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kamaluhkhan · 2 months

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TIME TO PRETEND

pairing: luke castellan x gn!poseidon!reader word count: 5k chapter summary: you're the eldest child of poseidon and the hero of the last great prophecy. you left your demigod life behind after defeating kronos. now, years later, you find yourself back at camp half blood for the summer.....which means dealing with luke castellan, and all that history (tension?) left unresolved between you. warnings: some nicknames for reader are based on female characters (mermista, sailor neptune) but they're still written as gender neutral. reader has tattoos. mention of alcohol + death (post-titan war). spoilers for the entire pjo (book) series, mostly references to the last olympian. timeline is all over the place but set in the early 2000s for vibes. no betrayal (au where chris was the one who sided w kronos and led the titan army) so slightly ooc luke <3 author's note: welcome to another product of my pjo hyperfixation !!! i wanted to finish the nemesis!reader series first but it's summer and i felt like reworking my tsitp series in a camp half-blood setting with bb luke. so prepare for childhood friends to lovers drama! summertime vibes! nostalgia! angst! would love to know what y'all think about this and if you want a part 2 so feel free to scream at me in the comments. otherwise, enjoy and thanks 4 reading 💙

♪: time to pretend by mgmt

YOU’VE GOT MAIL!

1 new message

from: LukeNotSkywalker

to: Mermista86

subject: you are GETTING that record deal

Hey,

Your demo CD just came in the mail — and, Connor as my witness, I’ve already listened to it five times!!!

It’s amazing. You’re amazing. The label would totally lose out if they didn’t sign you.

Things have been pretty chaotic around here, with the summer term happening soon. Speaking of which: are you coming back? Chiron gave me the list of returning campers and counsellors this morning and said he hadn’t heard from you, so I thought I’d ask. I know you’ll be busy with the band, but if you get the chance, it’d be really great to see you.

Anyways, I’m leading the next Shield & Sword session, so I’d better go. Talk soon ;)

- L

FOUR YEARS LATER

TURBULENT WATERS? ALT-ROCK BAND MIDNIGHT SIRENS HIT ROUGH PATCH AFTER LEAD GUITARIST GETS INTO VIOLENT ALTERCATION

the cover is the nail in the coffin: a blurry picture of you, an electric blue guitar forgotten at your feet, lunging forward into a crowd, with your bandmates on stage behind you in shock.

you’d gone all this time without any major incidents, and one stupid chimera managed to burn down everything you worked for in one fell swoop.

“that’d be $8.50,” the cashier informs.

you tear your attention away from the magazine, instead fishing through your pocket for some change. meanwhile, the cashier furrows their brow, leans down slightly to get a better look at you underneath your sunglasses and baseball cap.

“hey, do i know you?”

“nope,” you say instantly, slapping a $10 bill onto the counter. “keep the change.” you gather your pile of necessary roadtrip supplies (slushies, m&m’s, and goldfish) before rushing out the door, your half-brother trailing behind you.

you slide into the driver’s seat, set each slushie in a cup holder, and hand the rest to percy once he’s slipped into the passenger side.

“seatbelt,” you remind him. you shake your hair out after removing your baseball cap disguise. “i promised your mom i’d be responsible.”

percy does as he’s told, though not without mumbling about how he’s practically an adult and a demigod who’s been in much more dangerous situations than a car ride up to long island. you just tell him to put on some music, even though he has a point. he’ll be 18 in august and you’re only five years older, but the fact is that you gave sally jackson your word.

plus — you’re his older sibling, so gods forbid you let him get hurt. a seatbelt seems like a band-aid solution for one of the most powerful demigods out there, but still.

percy flips through a few radio stations while he sips his blue raspberry slushie. when he doesn’t find anything good, he opens the glove compartment and surveys your music collection before sliding a cd into the stereo.

instantly, the familiar sound of david bowie’s voice eases the tension in your shoulders.

“good choice?”

you nod and percy smiles triumphantly. you reach over to steal a few goldfish from the bag he just opened and ruffle his hair playfully, for good measure.

you’re perfectly happy, driving along a long island highway while getting lost in the glam rock world of ziggy stardust, but it isn’t long until percy interrupts:

“are you finally gonna tell me what happened, or do i have to read it from some trashy gossip magazine like everyone else?”

“well, your dyslexic ass can barely read so….”

you look over at him briefly, and laugh when you see him stick his slightly-blue tongue out to you.

“at least my dyslexic ass is actually decent at ancient greek. luke told me you failed the reading test, like, a million times.”

your heart twinges at the mention of your old friend.

friend.

if you could still call him that.

thankfully, percy doesn’t give you much room to dwell on the past, too focused on your drama-filled present.

“so, what is it? you got kicked out of the band? lost everything? have nowhere else to go?”

you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “i did not get kicked out.”

“then, what happened?”

“just the usual.” you shrug. “monster attack, mortals who can’t see through the mist. i tried to explain it away after — something about how i saw someone in the crowd attack another person and i stepped in to help. most people bought it, but the media loves drama and the label’s worried i’m a flight risk now. apparently, everything will blow over if i just keep a low profile for the next few months. so….no. i didn’t lose everything.” you take a deep, like when anyone other than children of poseidon are about to go underwater and they’re not quite sure when they can come up for air.

“i just don’t really have anywhere else to go,” you finish.

“damn.” percy offers you a blue shark gummy (or whale - you and percy had already debated the shape of the candy that sally packed for the trip, and the jury’s still out). you gratefully accept. “well, i know it’s not the best reason, but i’m excited to spend the summer together.”

despite everything, you find yourself smiling.

“me too, kid.”

“it’d give me a chance to kick your ass in sword-fighting.”

“you wish!” you nudge his shoulder, both of you giggling. once the laughter’s died down, you glance at percy once more. “hey – did you tell anyone i was coming?”

percy shakes his head. “why?”

you take a long swig of your drink until you’re on the brink of brain freeze.

“no reason.”

it’s just after lunch when you arrive at camp half-blood.

you weren’t sure what you were expecting — maybe not some futuristic technological developments that had been discovered within the years you were gone, but definitely not for camp to look pretty much exactly the same as when you left.

instantly, you find comfort in the familiar scenes: a dragon, peleus, guarding the magical borders; dryads and satyrs picking strawberries in the fields next to the forest; chiron standing near the central guidepost, greeting and guiding every camper in the right direction.

chiron smiles down at percy and practically does a double take when his eyes land on you.

“mx. l/n! it has been a while. are you here to drop off your brother, or do you plan on staying for the summer?”

before you can answer, someone appears behind him.

“perce! hey!”

“hey, luke.”

luke gives him a side hug, and percy shoves him away with a laugh when he ruffles his hair. it’s then that luke acknowledges you, though he looks like that’s the last thing he wants to do.

“i thought i’d never see you again. what are you doing here? ”

chiron turns to you expectedly. “i believe you have yet to answer that question of mine as well.”

“staying for the summer…” you adjust the shoulder strap of your backpack, uneased by luke’s cold demeanor. “i hope that’s okay.”

“of course!” chiron’s smile grows wide, eyes crinkling. “you’ll resume your position as head counsellor of cabin 3.”

“so i’m dethroned? just like that?” percy guffaws.

you nudge percy’s shoulder. “fulfill the next great prophecy, and then we’ll talk.”

percy rolls his eyes playfully. luke, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to appreciate your tongue-in-cheek remark. his jaw tightens, and he suddenly finds a deep interest in the clipboard he’s holding.

chiron clears his throat, likely sensing the tension. “yes, well, i’m sure you remember how things work around here. if not, mr. castellan has been keeping this ship afloat. he's always here to help.”

“always.” luke smiles, but it’s elastic, threatening to snap at any moment. someone calls his name, and he walks away to deal with whatever chaos is waiting for him.

summer — age 15

you weren’t exactly conscious when you first arrived at camp half-blood.

apparently, coach hedge, a satyr and protector, found you just in time and had to practically drag you up half-blood hill after a particularly gruesome fury attack.

when you woke up and saw luke sleeping next to you in a chair, his curls overgrown and falling onto his eyes, you thought you had died and gone to elysium.

you took in your unfamiliar surroundings. some sort of infirmary, with only your best friend next to you, the one you hadn’t seen in almost a year since you’d parted ways.

then, you remembered what was happening before you passed out; it was more likely that you were being tricked into a false sense of security by that fury, who definitely planned on devouring you later.

with a newfound sense of urgency, you decided it was time to get out of there before it was too late. you were reaching for your knife when you felt a hand grab your shoulder. without losing a second, you twisted your body around, weapon at the ready.

whoever it was watching over you sure looked like luke. he was wearing a bright orange shirt and leather cord necklace with one clay bead. another point of difference was the jagged scar that cut across his left cheek.

“it’s just me,” he said, gently. “you’re fine here. you’re safe.”

you weren’t convinced, kept your knife in front of you to keep distance. “prove it.” you narrowed your eyes. “tell me something only luke would know.”

“you’re left-handed.”

“that’s a great observation,” you scoff.

“storm is your favourite x-men character.”

“that’s a very popular opinion.”

“your aunt would make us mango lassi after swim camp when she got home from work,” luke tries for the third time. “and, my mom - she used to call you ‘starfish.’”

your heart skipped a beat.

that was the confirmation you needed.

the knife dropped from your hand, clattered on the wooden floor, as you pulled luke in for a hug. you were greeted by a familiar scent, that pear shampoo luke loved because it made his hair so soft, mixed with the smell of fresh pine trees.

“it’s really you,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

despite sleeping for gods know how long, you were exhausted. you rested your weight into luke, but he didn’t seem to care.

“it’s really you. i thought i’d never see you again.”

“where are we?” you asked, breaking away to face luke. you ignored the wooziness you felt throughout your body; luke seemed to sense it, his grip around you tightening. “are annabeth and thalia here, too? how’d you get here?” your thumb traced the unfamiliar scar on his face. “what happened? are you okay —”

“i-i’ll answer all your questions, but you lost a lot of blood.” luke guided you to lay back down in bed. “we’ll explain everything. just get some rest.”

a third scenario entered your mind: this was all a dream. you’d close your eyes and when you opened them again, luke would be gone. you’d be alone again.

you couldn’t let go of luke’s hand, even as he tucked you back into bed. you tugged his wrist, silently urging him to join you.

“will you stay with me?” you finally croaked when he continued standing.

luke looked at you, and you nodded once as final confirmation. then, he removed his shoes and slipped into the bed next to you. it was luke, all sweet pear and soft curls and strong heartbeat, and you held on to him in fear that he might slip away.

“always,” he whispered.

during the orientation video you were later shown, you learned that camp half-blood’s motto is keeping young heroes safe (mostly) for over three millennia!

luke had used that word, too. safe.

chiron told you this was to be your new home as he walked you to the poseidon cabin. he told you that you were safe now, though you noticed how the word almost got caught in his throat. he gave you a sad smile you didn’t quite understand.

you did wonder, at first, if those words were true: this place, a home for you and other children of gods. somewhere safe.

and, well.

you came to understand chiron’s general melancholy a few weeks later, and every week after that. he was used to training and sending heroes off to their potential death, and you would be no different. stolen lightning bolts, deadly quests, cryptic prophecies. a pending war between divine forces you had been entangled with long before you knew. heartache and betrayal and loss beyond measure.

but, there were other things, too.

annabeth, fitting in perfectly at the athena cabin, continued being her genius self, leading her team to victory every capture the flag game. she was extra patient in helping you with ancient greek, especially after chiron had given up.

chris rodriguez, luke’s half-brother, would tell you jokes from across the dining pavilion, knowing that you hated sitting alone at the poseidon table. michael yew, son of apollo, taught you how to play guitar at the bonfire one week; you’d ask for more and more lessons until you could start playing on your own. charles beckendorf made you a celestial bronze sword that shone like that burst of light when the sun hits the ocean at sunset. it transformed into a ring that you would never take off, unless in battle. you might not have gotten along with mr. d, but you spent free time picking fresh strawberries with his son, castor. you made matching friendship bracelets with silena beauregard, who was really the only person you confided in, about how you maybe possibly felt something other than friendship when it came to luke. she told you about her crush on clarisse larue, the daughter of ares whom you would always partner with during sparring practice. you taught ethan nakamura, who didn’t have his own cabin as the child of nemesis, how to properly hold a sword. thalia’s tree stood tall at the top of the hill where you almost bled to death, protecting you and everyone inside the magical borders. you, annabeth, and luke would share a picnic there every thursday.

you had been on the run for so long, always looking over your shoulder for monsters, sleeping with one eye open to be one step ahead of death, jumping from one place to the next so quickly to avoid danger.

so, yes.

it was nice to stay in one place, where you knew you were as safe as demigods could be. it was nice to spend your time learning and training and laughing instead of just surviving.

it was nice to have a place to call home. and people to call it home with.

now

the first week passes in the blink of an eye, and it’s like you never left.

tie-dye, volleyball, strawberry picking, kitchen duty, and cabin inspection.

luke has everyone on a tight schedule — one, you notice, conveniently places the two of you at opposite ends of camp at all times.

still, you catch up with clarisse and the stoll brothers, spend time with annabeth and percy, say hi to pollux and katie gardner and others you vaguely recognize as five years older than what you remember. there are also a lot of faces you don’t recognize at all.

of course, you try not to think about the faces you wished you could see: friends you grew up with and would never have a laugh with again, younger campers you had trained who would never grow up. all lost because of the gods and the titans and a prophecy you never asked to be a part of.

it’s a side effect of being back here; their ghosts are harder to ignore.

again — trying not to think about it.

anyways.

climbing wall, armory, sword-fighting practice, archery field, and free time on the beach.

to conclude: capture-the-flag, a friday night camp-half blood tradition.

you’re praising annabeth for her latest strategy that led to blue team victory when you notice luke. he was also on the blue team, but instead of celebrating with the rest of you, he’s speaking to someone who’s wearing a red helmet. they seem to be in a heated discussion, one that luke is not wanting to continue. his tells are the same, after all these years: the impatient tapping of his foot, his eyes searching for an out.

you give it to him.

“sorry, i need to borrow this guy.” you say, grabbing luke’s wrist. “camp emergency.”

if the person said anything, you didn’t hear it, because you were already dragging luke away from the crowd, towards the armory shed.

“what’s the emergency?” luke wonders, brows furrowed in concern. he has deep shadows under his eyes, too. keeping the ship that is camp half-blood afloat has clearly taken a toll on him.

“you wanting to get out of that conversation. you’re welcome.” you wink at him; luke flushes, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s annoyed, or if he's just flustered. “so, are you gonna keep ignoring me the whole summer?”

you put your helmet on one of the shelves and turn back to luke. you expected him to start removing his armor as well, but he doesn’t. he just glares at you, arms crossed over his chest.

so, he’s annoyed, then.

“what do you expect?” luke hisses. “you can’t come back here and pretend that everything can be like it was when we were kids. things are different now, especially between us.”

you decide to take him up on his challenge.

“oh? tell me, luke, what exactly is different between us?”

luke shakes his head in disbelief. you remove your chest plate, and that’s when the tattoo on your waist becomes visible. it’s a magnolia, like one of the flowers that bloomed on the tree outside may castellan’s house.

something in luke softens, then. he sighs.

“you could have at least given me a warning.”

he storms off, and you’re left half-armored, wondering what he meant by that.

you figure it out once a few of you settle down for a late-night, underground poker game, and you’re trying not to stare at luke’s hands.

it starts with you telling yourself that you’re just trying to predict what cards he’s holding, figure out if he’s bluffing, and if he’s about to lose everything he’d so confidently bet on.

but then you notice the silver thumb ring that thalia got him for his 17th birthday. you notice an array of hair ties and elastic bands he keeps just in case a camper needs them, and woven bracelets given to him by his admirers. you notice how the tattoo on his wrist is covered. (it’s hidden well, but you know it’s there — you’d gotten one of a wing, the kind that might be found on a pair of magical red converse, at the same time)

you also notice the forest green painted on luke’s nails, the same shade worn by the person beside him.

van, the new head counsellor of the hephaestus cabin. you’d seen them at staff meetings, but you somehow did not notice that they were dating luke.

he moved on — is that why luke needed a warning? is that what's changed between you?

it’s fine. whatever. so what if luke has a new partner? it’s not like the two of you were anything, officially.

luke has a new partner. they’re wearing matching nail polish. they’re one of those couples.

well, van is also wearing a nickleback shirt and luke hates nickleback, unless that fundamental part of his personality changed, too.

“yo, sailor neptune. you in or not?” travis brings you out of your daze, by using a nickname luke once called you.

back before becoming heroes, when you and luke were just kids, you’d watch cartoons in his living room on saturday mornings — x-men, she-ra: princess of power, teenage mutant ninja turtles, sailor moon. a lifetime ago.

you look around the table and see that everyone has been waiting for you to take your turn. even luke raises an eyebrow at you.

“yeah.” you clear your throat and throw some chips into the centre. “i’m in.”

you have decent enough cards to keep you in the game, and you’re comfortable that you can play the odds in your favor. the stoll brothers are good liars, you know that, and so is luke. malcolm pace is good at strategy, but thankfully not as good as his half-sister annabeth. pollux, who had invited you to the game, already folded along with butch, the son of iris who has a rainbow tattoo on his bicep to prove it. beside you, lou ellen, daughter of the hecate, contemplates her next move. clovis has fallen asleep, true to their title as head counsellor of the hypnos cabin. you can’t get a read on van, but they keep raising the stakes so confidently, and you’ve always liked a good challenge.

soon enough, it’s only you and van in the bet. when it comes time to reveal your cards, you curse yourself for overplaying your hand.

“good game,” van says to you as they collect their winnings. “you really had me going there.”

“yeah.” your smile is strained, but it’s there nonetheless. “tried my best.”

“guess the curse of achilles doesn’t help as much in poker as it does in capture the flag.”

“excuse me?” you raise an eyebrow.

luke, who had one arm casually draped around van’s chair the entire game, pulls away. “van, maybe don’t —”

“it’s not like it’s a secret, luke. they’re the prophecy kid, everyone knows they bathed in the river styx to be able to fight kronos. it’s camp legend.”

other than you, luke, and van, everyone else is occupied with something else. connor busies himself shuffling the cards, while lou ellen, malcolm, and pollux get up for more drinks. it seems like butch and travis have their own bet going to see who can balance the most chips on clovis’ forehead without waking him up.

van waits for an answer. you’re a little queasy, and it’s not from the wine pollux managed to snag from his dad’s office. you’re suddenly faced with the reality that your life is reduced to a legend. you try your best to swallow that feeling, of being made into a greek tragic hero while your heart is still beating, and your life is still a mess.

“that’s relevant, why?”

“just that some people might consider the invulnerability thing an unfair advantage in physical competitions like capture the flag,” van explains. “increased strength and all that.”

“that would mean nothing without a good strategy,” you counter.

“that’s what i said,” luke grumbles.

you recognize van now as the person luke was arguing with earlier. it must have been about this.

about you.

“okay, y’all were best friends, so luke is obviously going to take your side.”

you’re not sure what stings more: friends or were.

“although, he never really talks about you, which is weird because you’re, like, famous in and outside camp.”

ouch. that definitely stings the most. luke winces slightly, almost like he feels it, too.

“alright, alright,” connor interjects, shuffling the cards in his hands. “another round?”

you’re the only one who decides to call it a night. everyone says goodbye; even van, who’s blissfully unaware of the effect their words had on you. luke avoids your gaze. the game continues without you.

percy’s snoring provides enough cover as you sneak into your shared cabin. you try to sleep, but it doesn’t come easy.

you feel the spot underneath your rib, the one spot you’re truly vulnerable, ache.

summer — age 17

for the first time in your life, you couldn’t breathe underwater. you were swimming in acid, and your skin was melting away.

at least, that’s what it felt like to bathe in the river styx. achilles could have mentioned that, but all he gave was a cryptic warning about anchoring yourself to what makes you mortal.

you really tried at first. you thought about your friends at camp. you thought about percy, about your aunt back when she was still around. you even thought about may castellan, burnt cookies and saturday mornings.

the pain was too much, though.

you were forgetting where you were, who you were. with every passing second, you were dissolving into nothing.

“if you wanted to go for a swim, you should have told me. i would have worn my swimsuit.”

luke’s voice echoed across the waves. you tilted your head up to see him sitting on the dock above you, his feet dangling into the water. he had rolled up his jeans to just above his ankles so they didn’t get wet, but his shoes were still on, which was a bit strange. the sun made his eyes look like burnt amber, his teeth sparkling as he smiled at you.

okay. cool.

you were at camp. it was mid-afternoon, free period. the two of you had been at the edge of the lake, until you became impatient and jumped in, fully clothed. behind him, you could see that annabeth, thalia, and percy were waiting for you on the shore. they were each wearing orange camp shirts, which was also strange; you couldn’t remember a time when you were all there together, as campers.

“we better go, sailor,” luke said, amusement laced throughout his words. “come on. those cabins aren’t gonna inspect themselves.”

luke extended his hand to you. when you hesitated, he added:

“i can’t do this without you. will you stay with me?”

you reached up and grabbed luke’s hand.

always.

you emerged from the water, catching your breath as you collapsed on the sand.

“oh gods. are you okay?”

your cousin, nico diangelo, son of hades, knelt down next to you. he tried to check your pulse, but you waved him away. your eyes searched for luke, but he wasn’t there, despite feeling the ghost of his hand in your own.

oh.

you weren’t at camp; you were in the underworld. it was nico’s idea for you to take on the curse of achilles so that you’d be strong enough to face kronos.

“did it work?”

you got up, a bit uneasy on your feet at first. nico helped steady you, his hands cold on your skin.

you felt….stronger wasn’t the right word. you felt adrenaline coursing through your veins, like you could swim across the biggest ocean without pausing once. like you could defeat an entire army and not break a sweat. maybe even take down a titan or two while you're at it.

you needed to see luke again, to meet him and the others in manhattan before it was too late.

“let’s hope so.”

now

you always loved mornings at camp half-blood. the beach was particularly beautiful at sunrise, the water peaceful.

the morning after that impromptu poker game, you need that peacefulness to wash over you. you’re awake after a rather sleepless night, deciding to go for a quick run before breakfast. you get dressed and grab your mp3 player, as quietly as you can to avoid waking up percy (who, truthfully, could probably sleep through a hurricane anyways).

you jog from one end of the beach to the other. you set a steady rhythm, somewhere between the beat of your music and the sound of waves gently washing over the shore. when you make your way back down to where you started, you notice someone sitting nearby.

luke doesn’t say anything when you first sit next to him. he’s wearing a dark blue hoodie over his usual orange shirt, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. you imagine that he confiscated it from a camper on the way here.

“morning,” he finally whispers, eyes fixed towards the ocean.

you shiver, and not just from the cool morning air. you’re reminded of the last time luke spoke to you so softly, the last time you’d caught an early morning sunrise together. such a contrast to where you are now.

“morning,” you finally reply.

as the sound of waves fills the silence between you, luke surprises you by taking a lighter out of his pocket. he lights the cigarette and takes a puff. then, he hands it to you.

it’s such an odd, though not unwelcomed, gesture. a peace offering, you figure, but it’s just so not luke that you can’t help yourself.

“is golden boy luke castellan, offering me contraband? what planet am i on?”

the hint of a smile creeps onto his face. “like i said: things are different now,” he echoes his words from the night before, but this time you don’t sense any hostility.

you take a drag of the cigarette. your fingers brush against his when you return it to him.

you decide to offer a peace offering as well, and present to him one of your earbuds — he accepts. you have to slide across the sand to move closer to him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

i’m feelin’ rough, i’m feeling raw / i’m in the prime of my life….

as the song plays, you glance to see luke nodding along, tapping a finger on his knee to the beat. he lets the cigarette smoulder in his other hand.

we’re fated to pretend / to pretend / yeah, yeah, yeah….

when the song is over, luke turns to you.

“new group?” he brings the cigarette to his lips, then gives it back to you.

“kinda.” you inhale, letting the smoke warm your lungs before explaining. “this is considered they’re breakthrough album. they’re from connecticut, actually.”

“oh, yeah? guess that’s where all the talent is from.”

luke bumps his shoulder against yours knowingly. you feel your cheeks heat up at his praise, his witty sincerity.

this is familiar — you and luke, at the beach, sharing music. it’s familiar, and for a few moments, you can act like there isn’t a wall between you, of unresolved feelings and harsh words. you can pretend that nothing has changed.

“you know, nickleback are from connecticut, too. which means you just called them talented.”

luke coughs on some smoke as he exhales with a laugh. “what? no i didn’t!”

“in a roundabout way. i always knew you were an undercover fan,” you tease.

“i have better taste than that.”

“do you?”

“you’re fucking with me,” luke deadpans.

you crack a smile. “yeah, i’m fucking with you.”

“gods, you scared me for a second,” he laughs, and you can’t help but follow. luke glances at you and the sunshine highlights his smile, his dark brown curls, the ever-changing color of his eyes. golden, radiant.

you shiver again, looking away. before you know it, you feel something draped across your shoulders.

“i’m not sure van would like it if i was wearing your hoodie.” you joke, but your words are laced with a bitterness you hope luke doesn’t catch. unlucky for you, luke still knows you too well, whether he likes it or not.

“you don’t get to do that.”

“do what?”

luke scoffs. “be jealous.”

“well, you don’t get to tell me how to feel.”

“so, you are jealous?”

you exhale sharply; you can practically feel the wall between you two reappear.

“it’s too early, lu. and i’m too hungover to deal with this.”

there’s nothing more left to say. you get up, throw his hoodie on the sand, and walk back towards your cabin, the beach and luke further away with every step you take.

it makes sense that way: you were always the one to leave first.

#feel free to comment + reblog <3 #saf writes #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo x reader #pjo fanfic #pjo series #luke castellan angst #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty

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ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes · 10 months

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"Do they end up together?"

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

genre: fluff

el's thoughts: it's a bit rough but super cute!! it's been wayyyyy too long since i've written for him haha

The sound of rain echoed through the windows into the Gryffindor common room while the warmth from the fire fought off the cold draft. Y/N lay on the couch in front of the bright flames with her blanket tossed over her outstretched legs, her mug of tea had long gone cold sitting on the table beside her.

“Whatcha reading there, Dove?”

Y/N jumped in her seat and stuffed the book behind the pillows on the couch. “Nothing,” she smiled up at the tall boy as he walked to stand in front of the fireplace. “Nothing.”

Remus eyed her suspiciously with a smirk and hummed. He threw himself on the couch beside her, moving his body to lay his head on her lap. He snatched the book from behind the pillows at his side and held it out of her reach. He chuckled when he saw the title, “It only took you how long?”

Y/N threw her head back and groaned while trying to shove him away from her. “I know I knooow, Rem. It really is a good book.” She could feel him roll his eyes. “Okay fine, you were right. You were right all along. Happy?” She looked back down at him only to find him already watching her.

He said nothing but smiled before he sat up and lifted her feet to place on his lap. “Very. Now, what part are you at?”

Y/N started explaining the scene, describing her favorite characters. Remus watched with a fond smile. “Who’s your favorite character?” she asked him when she finished her rant.

She stared at Remus, dazed while she listened to him talk about his favorite characters and explain why all the while carefully avoiding spoilers for her.

Her best friend since their first year and the only other sane person in their tight group of friends. Her fellow lover-of-books. Her confidant and shoulder to lean on. There isn’t a single problem she had had that Remus didn’t already know about. It would be a safe bet to assume that he knew more about her than she did.

“I guess in summary I really like her as a character ‘cause she reminds me of you.” He grinned up at her smugly.

“You cheeky bastard,” she muttered, trying to hide the blush crawling its way up her neck.

“Only for you, Dove.”

His eyes bore into hers, bearing nothing but his playful and teasing nature. The warm glow of the slowly dying fire reflected in his chocolate eyes. Y/N knew she had to look away soon, she’d been staring for a few seconds too long now and time only continued to make its way by, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

Remus slowly leaned closer to her, moving his hand to rest by her side to support his weight.

“Does she actually remind you of me?” Y/N asked almost breathlessly, referring back to his favorite character.

“I wouldn’t say so if the truth was otherwise,” he whispered back.

She leaned closer to him and time seemed to lay still, the background noises of the few students still awake instantly became muffled in her ears. The fire’s warmth seemed to grow tenfold as she felt her face heat up. “Tell me, do they end up together?”

She was mesmerized as his lips curled into a smirk. “Who are we talking about now? You’re gonna have to clarify.”

“Oh shut up.” Her hands came up to hold both sides of his face as she finally brought her lips to his. The kiss was soft like they were testing the waters, but when neither of them pulled away Remus placed his hand on his waist and pulled her closer. Their lips fit together like a puzzle.

Y/N hummed and moved her hands to the nape of his neck to pull gently at his baby hairs.

“Finally!”

The pair jumped apart as if they were burned by each other’s touch. They turned to see James, Sirius, and Lily standing there with wide smiles and proud smirks.

“I’d say it’s about time,” Lily laughed.

Y/N groaned and buried her head in the cushions. “Lily…” she dragged out her friend's name purely out of embarrassment.

Remus chuckled, “I’d have to agree with you, Lils.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #ellora.writes

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captain19cb97 · 1 year

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Practice Makes Perfect (A/F) :: k.sm

Synopsis: A night at dance practice ends wrong for both you and Seungmin.

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~4k

Genre: Angst with a fluffy ending. Idiots to Lovers.

Warnings: Slight yelling, crying, Softie Seungmin, hurt MC, hurt Seungmin.

You and Seungmin had been friends for years, but when he first started training to become an Idol, you guys lost contact for a little while. Then not too long before the survival show started, you had bumped into him at a convenience store one night and it felt like no time had passed at all, while you caught up over some food the next day- at his persistent insistence.

That little reunion also sparked the tiny crush you had found yourself harboring for your friend, from years before, that you’ve now been keeping to yourself in the years since the group’s debut.

He was busy a lot, and you knew that was something that you were going to have to learn to deal with and accept, being his friend, especially as time went on and the group became more and more popular. So you tended to hang out the most, late at night when he finished his schedules, or he’d call you and beg you to come to the company to spend some time with him while he practiced on your days off.

Which is currently where you found yourself- sitting with your back pressed up against the floor to ceiling mirror in one of the many practice rooms throughout the building, watching the incredibly focused faces of Stray Kids, while they ran through a dance practice over and over again, trying to make sure everything was perfect.

Every so often, you’d look up from your book, your eyes flitting from face to face as they moved here and there, fixing and adjusting the moves before you’d land on Seungmin’s slightly flushed face, taking in all the little details you already had memorized in your brain. Some time’s he’d catch you looking at him, and his focused façade would fall just enough for him to make a face at you, before he tuned back into whatever it was one of the guys was saying and you’d return to your book.

You’d been so engrossed in your book finally though, that you didn’t notice when Felix dropped to the ground next to you, and you jumped slightly when he nudged your side.

“Good book?” He chuckled softly.

You let out a deep breath, trying to calm down your fast beating heart as you marked your place and shut the book. “Yeah, I wouldn’t read it otherwise, silly.” You joked.

He playfully rolled his eyes, taking the book from your lap and reading the title before giving you a look, “I think Seungmin has this book, too.”

You nodded slowly, “That’s because that is his book.” You told him, taking it back and dropping it into your lap again, “He told me that he thought I’d like it, so he’s letting me borrow it.”

Felix hummed, making a face at you, “And that jacket sure looks familiar, too.” He wiggled his eyebrow, gently tugging on the corner of the jacket adorning your body.

You tried to hide the blush rising on your cheeks as you rolled your eyes, “I was cold when I first got here. He’ll demand it back before we leave.”

Felix scoffed, looking across the room to where Seungmin was playfully arguing with Changbin about something again, “Bet you a cup of coffee he doesn’t.”

You pulled your eyes from Seungmin’s laughing face to Felix’s smirking one, “I already bought you coffee today.”

“And I thanked you for it!” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes again, shaking your head softly. “I always give his jackets back before I leave, anyway, so you’re wasting a bet.”

He shrugged, watching Seungmin finally making his way towards you both. “Humor me,” He mumbled to you before Seungmin got too close.

You scoffed a small laugh but shook your head, “Not tonight, Lix.”

Seungmin sighed heavily as he dropped down next to your other side, leaning his head back against the mirror.

“You did good, Min.” You smiled, nudging his shoulder with yours.

He hummed softly, “Bet you told Felix the same thing.”

“She didn’t, actually. Hasn’t mentioned anything about my dancing today.” Felix playfully grumbled from your other side, crossing his arms with a cute little pout. “Or anyone else’s.”

Seungmin picked his head up, looking from Felix to you, “Just me?”

You nodded, “Just you.”

A smile easily broke out on his lips, “How good did I do, then?”

You shoved his shoulder, letting out a soft giggle, “I give you one compliment and it goes straight to that big head of yours, huh?” You joked.

He pushed you back, laughing, “You never compliment me! I’ve got to try to get what I can out of you.”

You gasped, faking a hurt look, “I compliment you all the time, Kim Seungmin! How dare you.”

He rolled his eyes, and made the same face he always did before he was going to mock you, “ ‘Hey, Seungmin, that verse didn’t suck the third time.’ Isn’t a compliment, Y/n.”

You looked at him, “I have never told you a verse sucked. That was Minho!”

In the far corner of the practice room, Minho’s laugh echoed as you pointed at him. “Yeah, that was me, Seungminnie. She’d never say something like that to you. To me, yes, to you- never.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, watching Seungmin look from Minho back to you. “I’d never tell any of you that a verse you did sucks.”

“Yeah, she’s too nice.” Han piped up from the center of the floor. “She’s never said one mean thing to any of us.”

“That’s not true,” Changbin shook his head, a wide grin on his face as he met your eyes. “She’s been mean to me before.”

“You deserved it.” You shot at him, no real venom in your voice. “You were mean to me first.”

“All I said was that you’re clumsy!”

“And that was mean!”

“You are clumsy.” Seungmin looked at you. “You almost fell getting out of the elevator when you got here earlier.” He added, “If I hadn’t caught you, you would’ve.”

Han started laughing, sitting up enough to look at both of you. “Wow, Y/n, you finally fell for him, huh?” He joked, making the boys all laugh.

You felt you cheeks warming again and moved enough to push yourself from the floor, “Shut up, Han.” You mumbled, looking back at Seungmin, “Are you done for the night? You know that I have class in the morning, so I don’t want to stay up too late tonight and I’m excited about our movie night.”

Seungmin looked up at you, a guilty look over taking his features as the rest of the guys went back to their own conversations, all of them gathering their things to leave the room for the night. “I, uhm, forgot that I have vocal practice tonight.”

Your shoulders dropped just as the door shut behind the last of the boys, leaving you and Seungmin alone in the dance studio, “You told me you only had dance practice today.”

“I know,” He pushed himself from the floor, “I know, I’m sorry. I forgot it got scheduled at last minute.”

You sighed, reaching for your bag on the ground where you’d been sitting, dropping Seungmin’s jacket onto the rest of his things. “Then why did I come here tonight? I would’ve just stayed home to study more if I’d known, Seungmin.” You told him, heading for the door.

“Because I still wanted to hang out with you.” He said, quickly moving in front of you to stop you from going any further.

“By hang out did you mean, me sitting on the floor while you practiced again?” You questioned; a slightly irritated tone laced through the words.

“You’ve never had a problem with that before.” He shot back, taking the same tone you had. “What’s the problem now?”

“Because we always left and went to do something else when you were done!” You argued, “I’m either here for dance practice or vocal practice! When was the last time you asked me to come have lunch with you?” You asked, staring up at him. “I’ll tell you- it’s been months, Seungmin. And it’s been weeks since we’ve done a movie night, too."

“You knew this was what my life is like from the moment we started hanging out again!” He said, his voice raised enough that it made you take a step back.

He’s never yelled at you before. Neither of you have ever yelled at the other.

“I have vocal practices and dance practices, and schedules that I have to follow,” He continued, his voice still raised. “This is my job, Y/n. I don’t come to your job and complain that you have things you have to do, do I? No, because I understand you get busy.”

You could feel your eyes stinging as the tears began to well up, before you stepped around him and started heading for the door again, “You don’t come to my job at all, Seungmin, because you can’t. And I have never once complained about that, or that you get busy.” Your voice wavered as you pulled the door open. “Next time, don’t ask me to come here, when you know you don’t have time for me. I’d hate to interfere with your schedules anymore than I already do.”

He faltered at the hurt in your voice, blinking a couple times as he watched you go, the words he wanted were stuck in his throat as he watched you walk out of the studio, the door shutting loudly behind you.

He stared at the door for another few seconds, half expecting you to come back through them, apologizing for getting so upset- because that's what you’ve always done, even when you being upset was entirely justifiable- like tonight.

When the door opened, Seungmin felt himself relax slightly, thinking it was really you, only for his shoulders to drop at the sight of Han instead.

Han gave him a weird look, “Hey, I know it’s only been like 15 minutes, but you don’t have to look so upset about seeing me again.” He tried to joke, looking around the room slightly. “Where’s Y/n? Thought you guys were doing a movie night tonight.”

Seungmin felt himself deflating even more, “She left.” He mumbled, grabbing his things from the floor next to where you’d been sitting, and heading for the door.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Han grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from getting any further out the door. “Why’d she leave?”

“Because she’s mad at me.” Seungmin told him, brushing his hand off. “I forgot I have vocal practice in a half hour and because I forgot, I didn’t tell her about it, even though I’ve known about it all day.”

“I thought she liked sitting in on your vocal practice?”

Seungmin sighed deeply, finally looking back at Han and shrugged slightly, “So did I, but I guess not.”

Han frowned, “What did she say?”

He sighed again, moving away from Han and starting down the hall, “Enough.”

The rest of Seungmin’s night went slowly- almost crawling by. He went to his vocal practice but got sent home barely an hour in because his teacher could see he was distracted, and by the time he got back to the dorm, he wanted nothing more than to go to bed.

Your night, however, went completely differently than you’d been expecting it to go. The second you got out of the building, you realized that it was raining, and raining hard. You stood there for a moment, staring up at the sky like you could glare at the rain enough to stop it from falling.

After another long moment, you figured you were already wet, so there was no point in rushing home, or even in calling for a ride, so you trudged your way home, wiping your eyes every so often and trying to convince yourself it was just to get the rain out of them and not the tears that hadn’t stopped falling since you stepped out of the dance studio.

By the time you’d gotten back to your little apartment, you were well and truly soaked from the rain. Your roommate had been staying at her boyfriend’s a lot more lately, so you weren’t surprised when you walked into an empty apartment. You slowly made your way through your place and straight for your bathroom to take a hot shower, in an attempt to warm yourself up and to hopefully make you feel a little better before you went to bed.

You did everything you could to not think about what had happened in the dance studio, or about Seungmin, but you couldn’t help but feel hurt at how things had played out. You’d never expected Seungmin to yell at you, much less for him to have even let you leave when you were that upset. It was something completely unlike him and you knew that was part of the reason you were so upset.

Over the years, you and Seungmin had petty, little fights, or arguments, but nothing like tonight. It was unheard of for either of you to have gone this long without calling the other after a fight to apologize, too. After you’d gotten out of the shower and had changed, you’d pulled your phone out of your bag and when you realized that it had died, you hesitated in even going to plug it in because you didn’t want it to turn back on, and for there to be messages or missed calls from him, because you didn’t want to talk to him right now.

Except that you actually did. But you were mad at him, too. But you wanted him to come over, so you guys could talk things out, and for everything to be normal, and like it usually is. You hated it when you guys had even the small fights that you worked out only minutes later.

This was killing you.

And it didn’t get any better for the next few days, when neither of you reached out to the other.

It wasn’t any better for Seungmin either, though. He’d spent the few days constantly looking at his phone, your contact pulled up, like he was waiting for it to magically ring and be you, or that the phone would just call you on its own, for him. Neither happened, of course.

He went through his days the rest of the week, like he was half awake for everything. It was difficult for him to focus during any practices, and it got to the point that all the boys were beginning to worry about him and his well-being.

Finally, after 4 days of watching him act like a zombie, Felix and Han hatched a plan to get the two of you to work things out.

Felix texted you, asking if you wanted to come get coffee with him and Han at the company. When you’d finally answered him, saying you didn’t know if you wanted to even see Seungmin yet, he’d told you that Seungmin wasn’t even on property that day, so there was no chance you’d see him.

He’d gone so far as to call you, with Han right there to also reassure you that Seungmin and Changbin had both had off property schedules today and they wouldn’t be done until late into the night. You’d eventually agreed, but mostly because they both kept begging you to come see them.

You knew that all of them had some idea of what happened between you and Seungmin that night, because you’d passed Felix and Minho when you were leaving, and when they noticed you were crying, they’d only managed to get a few words from you.

“Seungmin….. Fight….. Let me leave.”

You loved the guys, but you knew that they couldn’t keep secrets amongst each other to save their lives.

And that was also why you currently found yourself in the dance studio again, staring wide-eyed at the man himself.

“Felix, let me out of the room. Now.” You demanded, spinning around to face the freckled boy.

Felix shook his head, “I’m sorry, Y/n, but that’s not happening. You guys are staying in here until you talk whatever this thing is, out.”

You sent him a stiff glare, that shifted to Han when he shuffled slightly behind Felix. “You both lied to me and now you’re going to essentially hold me hostage?” You questioned slowly, “I don’t have time for this, guys! Just let me leave.”

“Don’t you want to fix things?” Han asked softly.

You hesitated in answering, and when you opened your mouth, the words didn’t come from you.

“I do.” Seungmin mumbled quietly from behind you.

You slowly turned to look at him, a tense air settling between you both are you sighed. “Fine, but you two are leaving.” You said, turning to look back at Felix and Han.

Han scoffed playfully, “Like we were going to stay for this, anyway. We were gonna lock the door so you definitely couldn’t leave.”

Your glare was back, making him shut his mouth and shuffle even further behind Felix as Felix smiled at you sweetly.

“We mean well.”

“Just leave.” You sighed, shaking your head softly, already feeling drained. “One of us will text you, if we work things out.”

“When you work things out.” Felix grinned again, pushing Han out the door. “Good luck!”

“Yeah, good luck!”

And with that, the door was shut, and you faintly heard them lock it before you finally turned back to look at Seungmin.

Silence quickly filled the room as you looked at each other. It’s been almost a week since you’d been in this room, this close to him, since you’d first thought that maybe you guys being friends wasn’t a good idea until you got your feelings for him to go away.

Slowly, he pulled his jacket off and held it out to you, giving you a soft look. “You look cold. Please take it.”

Just as slowly, you stepped close enough to grab it from him and pulled it on as silence settled once again between you.

“Are you going to say anything?” He asked softly.

“Am I supposed to?” You shot back, “You’re the one who yelled at me, not the other way around, Seungmin.”

He sighed, “I know.”

More silence stretched on for almost a minute before you sighed deeply, moving to grab your phone from your bag to tell Felix this was pointless as you moved closer to the door.

“I just wanted you here.” He said softly. “I wanted to see you. Is that so wrong?”

You stopped, your hand still wrapped around the handle, but you didn’t try to pull it open, or turn around.

“Is it?” He asked. “Because you were right, we’ve barely gotten to hang out at all lately with everything that I’ve got going on. I missed you. And I thought you missed me, too.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before finally turning to look at him, “No, it’s not wrong.” You admitted softly. “And I do miss you, Seungmin, but sometimes I feel like I’m bothering you when you have so much to do and I’m just here. Like I’m in the way. And it sounded like you thought so, too, especially how you yelled at me.”

“I’m sorry for how I acted that night. But you could never be in the way, Y/n. Not when I want you here, and that’s literally all the time.” He told you, crossing the floor closer to you.

“All the time?” You asked quietly, your eyes moving around his face the closer he got to you.

He stopped barely a foot in front of you, looking down at you with a nervous look in his eyes, “All the time,” He repeated, taking another step closer.

You stared up at him, both of you falling silent for the moment until he sighed quietly.

“You don’t know, do you?” He asked.

Your brow furrowed as you shook your head softly, “Know what?”

“How much I like you.” He whispered, daring another small step towards you.

Your eyes widened as you stared up at him, “You what?”

He let out a quiet, nervous chuckle. “I have feelings for you, Y/n.”

You continued to stare up at him, a million thoughts whirling through your mind as you slowly stepped closer to him, until there was no space between you. “What kind of feelings?” You whispered.

He looked down at you, his eyes roaming your face as you slowly took his hand in yours. “The kind where I think about kissing you every time you smile or laugh. The kind where I just want to be around you whenever I can. The kind where I want to hold you in my arms all the time and let you wear my clothes because they look better on you. The kind where I call you my girlfriend and not just my friend. And I’ve been going crazy the last few days not talking to you.”

He slowly trailed off, his eyes still looking into yours as you took a deep breath and smiled, “I’m smiling now, how come you’re not kissing me yet?” You joked softly, leaning towards him a little.

He scoffed out a small laugh, tightening his hand around yours as he cupped your cheek with his other hand, “I’m sorry, let me fix that.” He whispered, leaning down towards you as you leaned towards him, too.

You felt his breath barely fan across your lips before he pressed his lips to yours, tightly holding your face in his hand to keep you close. He dropped your other hand, wrapping that hand around your waist and pulling you flush against him.

His lips were soft on yours, and all those times you’d watched him put chapstick on, wishing you could just immediately kiss it right back off flashed in your mind. The daydreaming you’d done each of those times couldn’t compare to the real thing, though.

The way his lips seemed to mold perfectly against yours, the gentle yet firm way he kissed you, holding you close to him like he was worried you’d disappear the second he let go of you, the way you could feel him tightening and loosening his grip on your waist every few seconds while your lips moved against his- it was all perfect.

You threaded your fingers through his hair at the back of his head, twirling the strands even as you both slowly pulled away. You kept your eyes closed for a moment longer, savoring the feeling of pure happiness that you could feel coursing through your body as he gently pressed his lips to your forehead before you both just stood there, letting the silence continue to surround you.

Finally, you slowly peeled your eyes open, and tilted your head up enough to look into his eyes and you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, taking in the redness of his now, kiss swollen lips.

“I have feelings for you, too, Min.” You whispered finally, watching his eyes turn into half- moons, disappearing under puffed up cheeks as he smiled.

“I’d hope so after that.” He replied softly.

You giggled quietly, dropping your forehead to his shoulder, letting him wrap his arms around you completely. “Does this mean you don’t want this jacket back?”

He chuckled, his chest vibrating as the sound echoed through the practice studio. “Were you hoping to win that bet against Felix?”

You laughed, nodding, “Too ambitious, huh?”

“A little, yeah. I want to keep my girlfriend warm,” He paused. “If she wants to be my girlfriend, that is.”

You finally picking your head up to look at him and grinned, “She does.”

#stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #kim seungmin skz #stray kids angst #seungmin angst #seungmin fluff #stray kids fluff #seungmin x reader #seungmin female reader

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thepremedthatwrites · 2 years

Text

Handle Yourself

Hey! Could you do a a fic about riding Edmund's thigh while he's studying??? Or A nsfw Alphabet for Edmund please? Thank you so much!

warning: smut below the cut

I let out a huff as the book fell from my hands and onto the bed. My eyes had started to hurt as I strained to read the small text and I felt the need to take a break. Edmund turned from his seat at the desk, a smirk on his face. “Need a break already, love?”

“And what if I do?” I asked, rolling onto my back and stretching my body. “I’ve already been reading for a good fifteen minutes, which is a lot for such a boring book.” He let out a chuckle as he turned back around, already starting to refocus on his own work. I stared at the book sitting next to me in disgust, not wanting to even think about picking it up again. Instead, I turned to look at Edmund who seemed to be deep in thought as he read from his chemistry textbook. I’d always admired his work ethic and how he was able to continue studying for long periods of time, no matter how tedious the subject may be.

His back muscles were tense as he hunched over the desk, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He rested his head in one hand, the other assigned to flip the pages of the textbook. I admired how his biceps flexed slightly underneath his t shirt, making the fabric wrap tightly around his skin. His lips were slightly apart as he read. I wanted to kiss them so badly but I knew he was too focused to do anything.

But what if I were to convince him otherwise? I wondered what it would take to break the spell of concentration Edmund was under. I imagined running my hands through his dark hair, letting my breath tickle his neck. Would that do the trick? Or would he need more stimulus? I doubted it. I knew just a look could send him into a frenzy if I tried hard enough. I walked over to him, resting my hands on his shoulders. I slowly started to move my hands, working his tense muscles. He let out a soft hum at this. I felt him started to relax. I leaned down so that my mouth was next to his ear. “Why don’t you take a break?” I suggested in a low voice. His took a deep breath before turning to me.

“You know I need to do well on this exam, (y/n),” he said.

“I know, but you also can’t tire yourself out.” I gave him a soft kiss on his neck, right behind the ear, and I felt him let out a shudder.

“You’re only saying that because you want something. Isn’t that right, love?” I let out a soft chuckle.

“Perhaps. But I have a feeling you want it as well.” He let out a strangled moan as I planted another kiss, this time near his jawline. I allowed my hand to rest on his thigh as I leaned over his shoulder to look at his textbook. “You can’t possibly be able to read this for such an extended amount of time.” Edmund placed his hand on top of mine, his thumb slowly rubbing circles on my hand.

“Look, I really need to at least finish this chapter. Why don’t you be a good girl and handle yourself until I can help.” I let out a dissatisfied noise before climbing into his lap. Edmund let out a chuckle as his hands grabbed onto my waist. “And what exactly are you doing?”

“I need your touch,” I whispered, already starting to grind onto his crotch where I could feel something start to grow.

“(Y/n),” he said in a half-moan. “I need to be able to focus. Could you please move? Just a bit.” I relented so that I was now straddling his right thigh instead of his lap. I let out a soft gasp at the friction as I moved. “That’s a good girl,” Edmund said in a low voice, giving me a soft kiss on my neck.

I started to move my hips, feeling the wetness between my thighs grow as I moved. I let soft moan escape my mouth, making sure they stayed quiet enough that they wouldn’t distract Edmund who continued to read his textbook. One of his hands rested on my waist, offering me some support, while his other hand remained designated to flip the pages. I started to move faster as the pleasure grew. Edmund had started to chew on his lip and although he seemed to be concentrated on the page his was reading, his face had started to turn a light pink. My moans had started to become slightly louder and my voice jumped an octave when he lifted his thigh, adding more pressure. A smirk grew on his face as he did this and I had to bury my face into his neck.

I savored his scent as I continued to grind on him. My moans had turned to desperate pants as I chased my high. It came to me in a wave, crashing over me and leaving me gasping for air. Edmund let out a low moan, his grip on my waist tightening as my body convulsed with pleasure. After a moment, I started to calm down and sat up right on his thigh. He didn’t wait to kiss me. It was rough and bruising and as he continued to kiss me, he lifted me up. I felt my back hit the soft material of our bed as he started to move his kisses from my lips to my neck. I barely had time to catch my breath.

“Damn you,” he said into my ear, his hands running up and down my body. “Now, after I fuck you, I’m going to have to reread my chapter.”

#king edmund the just #edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie imagine #edmund pevensie oneshot #edmund pevensie smut #edmund pevensie x y/n #edmund pevensie x reader #narnia imagine #narnia smut #narnia fanfiction #narnia #the chronicles of narnia

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deanbrainrotwritings · 7 months

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— THE LOVE LETTER COLLECTION : SAME BOOK BUT NEVER THE SAME PAGE

SUMMARY : part III of the love letter collection. still dreamwalking. chasing after someone who can destroy worlds. and dean is jealous of his variants. what could go wrong?

PAIRING : mario!dean winchester x peach!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : luigi!sam winchester, lush edryx (ofc), toad!castiel, jack kline

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, fluff, real physics, theoretical physics

WORD COUNT : 5.6k

A/N : a day to remember song title. this fills the dramatic death square for my @jacklesversebingo card. this was inspired by the second season of What if…? My siblings and I used to play Super Mario Sunshine on our GameCube so that’s what this is based on, too. And my physics degree is paying off! 😂 XXXXxx

It all started with Cas suddenly appearing within the Bunker, frantically searching for Sam, Dean, Jack, and Y/n.

To be fair, it was three in the morning and everyone was asleep, so Cas had only found Jack passed out on the kitchen table after another round of Krunch Cookie Brunch in the middle of the night.

The original plan for Jack was to try Y/n’s remedy for not being able to sleep. Warm milk. Of course, she’d meant in a glass. Then, he got hungry being there—surrounded by food, grabbed the blue box of sweet cereal and served himself once. After finishing his cereal, he still had some milk leftover, so he convinced himself easily that to finish the milk he needed one more serving.

He got that from Dean.

Cas sighed at the sight of him, but he was in a hurry. Like the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, that’s what he felt like at that moment. So he shook Jack—rather than being gentle—who abruptly sat up, “I didn’t eat it!” He shouted sleepily, his eyes wide and surprised. “Oh, Cas. I thought you were Sam,” he whispered, rubbing sleep from his eyes, much like Dean did.

“I need to find Sam, Dean, and Y/n,” Cas said distractedly.

“But… it’s late,” Jack stated, having flashbacks of Dean pointing a gun at him for waking him while he was deep asleep. “And Dean and Y/n-”

“I’m aware,” Cas interrupted Jack. “This is more important. They can have coffee.”

“Erm,” Jack hesitated, but Cas was already making his way out of the kitchen, his beige trench coat billowing behind him. It reminded Jack of Snape, but he shook his head from the distraction and quickly cleaned up before he got scolded by Sam for being ‘unhealthy’.

Meanwhile, Cas bursted through Sam’s bedroom, the door cracking loudly against the wall, that it alone woke Sam. The gun was quickly in Sam’s hands and the bullet that he’d sleepily fired grazed Cas’ shoulder. Cas pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored the messy nest that was Sam’s hair.

“Sam, I’ve got a case,” Cas declared bluntly.

“What the hell, man? It’s-” Sam looked towards his clock by the nightstand with squinted eyes, heavy with sleep. The time glared at him in green, made him groan and fall back into bed. “It’s three in the morning, couldn’t it wait?” Sam turned over onto his stomach, uninterested, and held his pillow to his face, knowing that Cas was not going to let him go back to sleep.

“This is important. Every second that goes by, catastrophic things can occur,” Cas attempted to explain.

“Yeah?” Sam asked sarcastically, at the end yawning. “That’s life. We’ll take care of it in the morning.” To emphasise that he was going back to sleep, he lifted his knee to the side and wiggled around until he was back in his original position.

“I know that,” Cas enunciated with irritation, “this is really complicated and I’d like for all of you to be awake to hear what I have to say so that I don’t have to repeat myself.” Sam groaned loudly into his pillow and then sat up swiftly to glare at Cas.

“Oh my god,” he complained, combing his fingers through his unkempt hair in an attempt to fix it. “You know what? Fine, but if Dean gives you the cold shoulder for a month—again, don’t expect any sympathy from me,” Sam warned grumpily, getting out of bed to get ready to meet Cas in the library.

Cas gave Sam a deadpan stare and walked out without a word to find Dean and Y/n.

When he made it to Dean’s room, Cas was far gentler with the door. He held it open rather than letting fly open and hit the wall, the way he let happen with Sam. He watched the two figures in Dean’s bed and tilted his head at the sight of Dean practically draped over his girlfriend’s back.

Cas let go of the door and stood there awkwardly trying to see better in the darkness. He could see that the sheets were a mess around them and Y/n was curled up slightly, nearly at the edge of the bed. Cas assumed Dean either pushed her all the way over there or that he was holding onto her so tightly so that she wouldn’t fall. Maybe both.

Dean was snoring softly, had one arm wrapped tightly around her front and his legs were tangled with hers. Cas didn’t think it looked very comfortable for Y/n, but she was in a deep sleep, completely undisturbed by both the sounds coming from Dean, the lack of coverage with a warm blanket in the cool room, and the lack of personal space Dean was giving her. What a hypocrite.

Cas knew though, it was different when the two of them invaded each other’s personal space, than if it were him or someone else being that close to them. Dean would go ballistic if anyone else stood that close to her, not that she’d ever allow that to happen, she gets irritated easily by other people.

Cas found that strange, too. The way she despised certain traits or habits in others—she made it very clear, verbally—but forgave them in Dean. Perhaps that is love. Compromise. Chaos. Irrationality…

The lights in the hallway turned on and Cas knew it was Sam who turned them on and was now up properly. The light allowed Cas to see much better into Dean’s room, with the light pouring in from the hallway.

Cas tried to think of something to wake them that would not make Dean and Y/n too angry. He looked around Dean’s room, clothes were strewn on the floor and Dean had his record player on, just static now that the needle was up. It didn’t take very long for Cas to deduct what had happened. Sex.

They were both naked, Cas could see now. He flushed and averted his gaze, then quickly made his way to the record player, dropped the needle, and put the volume as high as it would go. Led Zeppelin’s Baby Come on Home blared through the room causing Dean to jolt up sleepily, finally disturbing his peacefully asleep girlfriend.

She whined Dean’s name and Dean froze when he saw Cas standing by the record player. Cas stumbled and turned it off swiftly, smiling nervously at Dean who was now glaring at him. Part of Cas wanted to laugh at the state of Dean’s hair, one side was flat, the other side was a mess, and the top was just sticking up.

“Dude, what the hell?” Dean whispered aggressively, struggling to lift the tangled sheets to cover up Y/n’s naked body. She turned over onto her stomach and threw her arms around Dean’s waist, grumbling for him to sleep again and hold her. Instead, Dean dropped his hand over her head, buried his fingers into her sex hair, and gently massaged her scalp. She hummed appreciatively and squeezed her arms around him gently.

“Uh… I’m sorry,” Cas apologised slowly. “It’s an emergency and I need her help. It’s about a case, we’ve been working on it together,” Cas explained, then dropped his eyes hesitantly to the small body tangled in Dean’s sheets.

“What?” Dean asked, no longer playing with her hair. She groaned softly at the loss, so Dean started up again very slowly. “Since when? Why didn’t you guys tell me?” Cas sighed exasperatedly and Dean’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the sassiness exuding from his best friend.

“Okay, fine,” she finally spoke up, struggling adorably to get up, not caring that she was flashing Cas with her naked body when she turned to face him. “Go, I’ll be there with Dean.”

“Woah, hey,” Dean complained, grabbing her breasts in his hands. She laughed and Cas only became more flustered. “Dude,” Dean said, silently holding a conversation with Cas.

“Right,” Cas averted his gaze and stepped backwards out of their room. “Just, please don’t have sex like you guys always do when we have something important to do,” Cas pleaded. Dean glared at Cas halfheartedly, feigning offence, but knowing very well that it was usually Dean who initiated it and delayed their appearance.

Dean began to splutter a blush growing on his face. “We have never d-”

“Save it, Dean,” Y/n snorted softly with a laugh, “yes, we have.” Cas nodded—tried and failed to hold back a smile—and left them to get ready. “I’m so sleepy,” she whined, leaning into Dean’s side. He slipped out from the embrace he had her in and ignored her pout to settle between her thighs with a smug smirk.

He pushed her gently onto her back and leaned over her, giving her a big kiss on her forehead. She laughed, held his jaw gently in her hand to kiss him lazily, and pushed her fingers friskily into his already messy hair.

He moaned softly and pulled away, snickering.

“What?” She asked, brushing his hair with her hands and fingers to make it look better. Even if he looked adorable with it messy. She bit her lip and traced his cheekbone with her thumb.

“We should be late, y’know, just to keep up with our tradition,” he grinned boyishly. She looked away from his freckles cheek and the cute eye-bag that was more prominent on this side of his face. She raised a brow, opening her mouth to say her piece, except she could only laugh.

He scowled, leaning forward to press his face against her neck, and laid down on her to stop her laughter. Dean grabbed her thighs to lift them so she’d wrap them around his waist. He bit his lip and squeezed her tightly. She whined in protest, lazily and weakly attempting to push him off her.

Her heart began racing and heat grew between her legs. The way he moved his lips down her neck, placing wet kisses across her skin, didn’t help her fight between what she wanted from him, and what Cas wanted from her.

“You don’t look like you want me to stop,” he murmured with a smirk against her breasts.

“I don't want you to,” she agreed quietly, “that’s why… I’m hoping you'd be nice to me and get off before we waste sweet time doing awesome… stuff.”

He chuckled against her skin and lathed her nipple up in saliva, needily tugging at it before getting off her. He slid his hands down her sides and groaned at the sight of her, fighting with himself to get up and get changed.

“I was just trying to wake us up,” he pouted, reaching beneath her to cup her ass and squeeze. “I just need five minutes,” he offered, lifting her hips up suggestively. Her heart leapt excitedly, her stomach flipping when he started to shuffle forward on his knees, his cock nudging her folds.

“Nah, you can’t change your mind more than once,” she told him playfully, wagging a finger at him with a huge smile. She sat up to wrap her arms around his waist, trying to make him feel better, and pulled him with her as she got off the bed. He groaned and followed her reluctantly to get ready.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Dean chuckled dryly, leaning over the table with his palm on the surface, gazing at his girlfriend. “You’ve been working on the case the other me’s were talking about before we left?” She leaned forward and placed her hand over his, perfectly showcasing the ring he had given to her just three months ago.

She inhaled, then exhaled. Dean braced himself. He expected a lie, an explanation.

“Yes,” she told him bluntly. He appreciated the truth, but he scoffed, and gripped her hand—the one with the ring on it. He brushed his thumb gently over her knuckles, his verdant eyes wide, filled with confusion and hurt.

“We’ve never had this problem before,” Dean frowned at her, it made her tilt her head in regret, “it’s why Sam, and Cas, and literally everyone keeps you out of plans if it involves lying to me…” Dean paused and released her hand gently, realisation dawned on him. “It was that other me, right? That’s why it’s different…”

Sam quickly began to escort Cas and Jack out of the library, the three of them moving out quietly to give them space. Neither of them said anything about their departure, instead Y/n took Dean’s hand again.

“Look,” she sighed, tugging him to stand between her legs. “No matter what reason I give for hiding this from you, you’re gonna poke holes into my logic, and I’m gonna realise you’re right…” She looked up at him, opened his palm, kissing the callouses there lovingly. “We’re in this together now, I should’ve thought about that before hiding this from you. I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean cupped her face with both of his hands, taking her words into consideration as he looked into her earnest, soft eyes. He’d never been lied to by her, which was exactly why he couldn't help the hurt in his chest. Still, he leaned forward and kissed her on her lips, slowly, barely feeling her response, before pulling away with his eyes closed.

“Don’t do it again,” he murmured, sliding his hand down her neck. He brushed his thumb against her collarbone, gazing down at the ashamed expression on her face. It didn’t make him feel better, he knew something was off the past month, but he thought it was the wedding plans that were distracting her.

She placed her hand over his and nodded wordlessly.

“I’m gonna go get them,” she told him quietly, squeezing his hand before getting out of his grasp and walking away to give Dean a few minutes to think and let the information sink in.

Dean watched her go and took the seat she got up from as he thought about what she’d done. It’s not like… she’d be unfaithful. He knew she would never do that. And she knew him so well she didn’t give an excuse, but he’d like to hear one now, just to understand why she didn’t let him know.

“Okay.. so, the Dean stuff was good to know,” Sam breathed in and then exhaled as he entered the room with Cas, Jack, and Y/n. “But… I mean… whatever Lush is doing is… kinda confusing. It’s Lush, right?” Sam asked, giving his brother a glance to make a quick assessment of his mood.

“Yes,” Cas answered.

“So, I can use jars of sand as a metaphor or the human body metaphor, which one?” Y/n asked Sam, then glanced at Dean with a tight smile. He gave her a soft one in response.

“Start with the sand, and if we don’t understand the first one, try the human body,” Sam answered for Dean. She excitedly clapped her hands together and stepped towards where both can see her.

“Well, let’s say one grain of sand is our current universe: all the stars, the galaxies, dimensions, y’know the makeups of one single universe,” she began, pinching her fingers together. “But if you have a jar of sand, that’s a multiverse. A second grain of sand would be the universe with Hunter Corp, and a third grain of sand would be the universe Micahel destroyed. Still with me?” She stopped waving her hands around, her eyes drifting away as she became engrossed with her explanation.

“Yeah, yeah… grains of sand as an alternate reality, universe, parallel or whatever…” Sam quickly replied, almost with the same enthusiasm as her. Dean wished he could join in, but part of him was still hung up on her omission.

“Yes, exactly,” she smiled at Sam. “Well, a whole shelf of jars would be the omniverse. Every multiverse-”

“Every multiverse? Like… what do you mean?” Sam interrupted, frowning. He was clearly overwhelmed with excitement as he ran his fingers through his long hair, hazel eyes adrift before focusing on her once more.

“Well, one jar of sand would be our multiverse. A second jar of sand would be… the Doctor Who Universe, ya know? And a third would be… a Hunger Games universe. Every jar of sand would be a movie, show, book. Oh, it’s so awesome,” she sighed, leaning over the table with both her hands flat on the wooden surface.

Cas and Jack stared between them, dumbfounded.

“Wow, yeah, that’s… a lot,” Sam sighed, pulling a chair out to sit down. He thought quietly to himself, chewing on his lip. “You said… every book, does that include maybe.. short stories?” He asked suddenly, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear. She lifted a brow.

“Yes..? You have something specific in mind?”

“You know… the stories people write about… me… and Dean?” He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in the chair. Y/n burst out laughing after hearing the question, almost ignoring the disgust on Sam and Dean’s faces.

“Gross, man,” Dean grimaced, crossing his arms over his chest, looking away.

“Okay, sorry,” Y/n brought herself to say between laughter. She wiped tears from her eyes and dried her fingers on her jeans. “No, yeah, that’s a good question,” she sighed with an amused expression, “anyway… no, those types of stories exist outside of the main multiverse, floating in the omniverse. They’re typically unstable—fleeting, and they collapse in on themselves,” she explained sincerely, an expression of relief while over Sam’s face.

“How come?” Sam inquired, leaning over the table with his fingers entwined together.

“Well, back to jars of sand. The jars are sealed; that makes it an isolated system—nothing gets in and nothing gets out. Nothing new can be created besides what’s already inside. The omniverse, however, is not an isolated system. When someone creates a book, movie, show, or whatever… if it’s… you know.. Popular and strong enough to not collapse in on itself in the omniverse-”

“If we could get to the main point…” Cas pleaded, interrupting their conversation. She looked over at Cas and pouted playfully—it almost made him laugh. She focused anyway, with a roll of her eyes.

“Right, well, Lush Edryx is breaking those ‘isolated system’ rules by hopping multiverse after multiverse. None of us knows what she's trying to find, but she keeps destroying everything in her quest—or almost destroying everything—which means we need to stop her,” Y/n got to the point, staring at Cas with a glint of mischief.

“How did she get so powerful?” Sam asked, gazing from her to Jack.

“Well, every multiverse has its own God, Darkness, Lucifer… and all that… Jack thinks that for Lush’s multiverse, the Darkness gave her the ability to travel from multiverse to multiverse. We just can’t find out what they’re looking for. We just know where she’s currently headed. Well, Cas and Jack know,” she started to ramble, carefully scratching the table with her nails mindlessly.

“How can we help if none of us has those kinds of powers?” Sam questioned, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, technically Quetzalcoatl is my descendant, which means Jack can make it so that I can hop multiverses too,” Y/n mumbled thoughtfully.

“Who now?” Dean finally spoke up.

“Please, no more questions,” Cas begged once more, his head tipping back in irritation.

Sam chuckled, leaning forward again. “How can we help?”

“Well, we can possess our multiverse variants and omniverse variants, and they already gave me permission so… what do you guys say?” Y/n asked, drumming the table with her fingers enthusiastically.

“Let’s do it,” Sam shrugged, looking over at Dean who nodded in agreement.

“I see why you were excited,” Dean grumbled, poking the green grass with a stick. Sam looked up at the bright blue sky with squinted eyes. Cas and Y/n looked ahead, eyes peeled for what they were searching for. For who they were searching for.

“Hmm?” She asked, looking down at Dean in his Mario outfit. She grinned once their gazes met and he rolled his eyes at her, a cute smile on his face. No words had to be spoken, she knew that he knew it amused her to finally be taller than him.

“So, he’s taller than you in your universe?” Cas asked, taking her attention from her quieter-than-usual boyfriend. Well, it wasn’t their Cas, it was this universe’s version of Cas, Toad. She smiled down at him brightly, it felt amazing to do so.

“Yup,” she said, putting emphasis on the ‘p’. “And you’re way cuter here. I could take a bite out of you,” she snickered, lifting her pink dress as she walked down the hill awkwardly with Dean, Sam, and Cas. Or should she say, Mario, Luigi, and Toad? That would be confusing because they look nothing like the originals, except for Toad, Cas, whatever.

“Please don’t,” Toad pleaded, frowning. Dean took her hand to help her down, it made her flush. He looked so cute.

“Of course not,” she murmured warmly, squeezing Dean’s hand. Before he could look at her, she spoke up. “So, how far until we get there?” She asked impatiently, looking around endless mushrooms of all colours, shapes, and sizes.

“Not too far,” Cas reassured her.

“How come we didn’t just come in our normal bodies?” Dean asked, jogging to catch up with her. “Wouldn’t it be easier? We’d have an advantage in our original bodies.” She slowed down, brushing her fingers with Dean’s for him to take if he wanted. He took her hand fully, holding it gently in his, a single touch making her breathless.

“Well, puppeteering or possession is less dangerous since it’s not a permanent link to the realities we go to. This way, there’s a smaller chance that we’ll cause destruction… y’know unlike Lush who’s actively invading what’s supposed to be an isolated system.” Dean mulled over her words silently, squeezing her hand.

“Well, we won’t have to fight Boswer or anything, right?” Sam asked, moving her attention away from Dean and to him.

“No fighting. We’re going in the opposite direction to find a Mega Mushroom,” Cas reassured him, still on high alert for any movement from sneaky mushrooms.

“Which is what Lush is after according to… Jack and Cas,” Y/n added, scoping the area with Dean.

They’d been searching for a while now. Long enough for her to have become bored with her surroundings, the thrill of feeling, seeing, smelling, tasting… all of everything amazing around her had died as the search for the Mega Mushroom began to take longer than she would’ve liked.

She even went back to thinking about wedding cake flavours. Dean’s so… adorable. He wants a confetti cake. She’d indulge him in any way possible, but she was torn between serious flavours such as honey, strawberry and rhubarb, and white chocolate raspberry.

And the colour scheme; Dean’s thinking of a soft pink, blush, watermelon, salmon… but all she can think of is matching everything to the green of his eyes, the gold of his freckles, the honey of his hair… completely ethereal colours that symbolise his beauty and her love for everything that he is.

The guest list wasn’t a problem at all, for obvious reasons, and neither was the music, but the location, the reception… If she could just stop being so worried about Lush, the omniverse, all the Deans, and everything else, she was sure she could help Dean out a little more. He was doing a fantastic job on his own—which wasn’t surprising. Of course he’d adapt perfectly to the situation-

“Oh, shit,” Dean whispered, tightening his grip on her hand to stop her from walking. She froze, her focus returning with the rustle in the tall green grass besides Dean.

“Princess, Mario has to capture it,” Toad explains, “erm, I mean, Dean,” he corrected himself quietly, prying the lovers’ intertwined hands apart as the rustle got further away.

Dean nodded, looking to his girlfriend who smiled at him encouragingly, before he quietly began sneaking through the grass, rapidly getting accustomed to his surroundings and his body.

“He’s shorter than me here, more than usual,” Sam joked from behind her. She giggled quietly, turning back to look at Sam dressed in a Luigi outfit. He was once more, taller than Dean, but not taller than her. He had a silly smile on his face, pleased with his joke—as any sibling would be.

“He could probably still beat us in a fight,” she teased, climbing mushrooms to get to the biggest one. Sam and Toad followed her to the highest point, trying to find the red of Dean’s cute little hat in the waves of long green blades.

“Good point,” Sam laughed once he stood beside her. “Over by that butt looking mushroom,” Sam pointed to where Dean was pouncing on something and jumping. She laughed at Sam’s accurate description of the mushroom, at Dean once she found him again running in circles.

To live far away from her world would be nice. This place seems nice. But the last thing she wanted was to kill innocent lives and destroy innocent worlds. Had she lost everything the way that other Dean did, she’d imagine she’d commit a billion atrocities to find her happiness—even if it was wrong. Is that what Lush was doing? Trying to find happiness?

This was not the way to go, but then, she’d be a hypocrite to argue against it out loud. She knows in her heart just what she’s willing to do for her family, for Dean, for those she loves… She has the power, the opportunity to take what she wants. It might be worse than what Lush is doing.

“Guys?” Sam asked to get hers and Toad’s attention. He got closer to the edge before jumping down and running towards Dean, calling his name multiple times.

It was only afterwards, when she looked away from Dean that she saw a much larger rustle within the grass. Large enough to be human-human rather than video-game-human. It was headed towards the same orange mushroom Dean was after, but Dean noticed the rustle, too.

Y/n quickly made her way quickly to help the two brothers, with Toad shouting some advice to her, which was pretty helpful in reminding her that she could use stuff from this world to help Dean and Sam. She slapped grass away from her face and lifted her pink dress so she wouldn't trip on it, running as fast as she could on heeled boots.

Dean abandoned the Mega Mushroom and Sam was close behind to catch what she figured could only be another Toad or Lush. A set of piercing blue eyes and a head of white hair rose from the green grass, removing a Toad as a suspect. It was Lush, who was focused on the Mega Mushroom while attempting to evade Dean, but when she noticed she’d been spotted, she tackled the Mushroom, gripping it by its leg before shoving it into her satchel aggressively.

Lush ran from Dean, towards the closest green pipe to escape from them, but before she could jump in, Y/n threw an ice ball at her from the pocket of her dress. The ice grew upwards, trapping her legs to the ground. She pulled something from her bag, a jar full of brown sludge and threw at Dean, the closest to her.

The glass broke at Dean’s feet. He stopped too late, causing the brown mud to splash over him. Y/n threw a second ice ball at her feet, watching it grow higher up Lush’s torso. Y/n was closer to Dean who started to grunt in pain, the brown mud sticking to him no matter how much he tried shaking it away.

While Toad finally caught up to them and tended to Dean by pouring water onto him, Y/n and Sam pried the bag away from Lush.

“Give it back!” She shouted, the ice cracking at her torso, but Y/n was quick to create a portal a few feet away, and threw the bag into it. It shut immediately after the bag fell through, which made all the fight slip from Lush.

It was as if she only now realised they were all there. She analysed them curiously, silently—confused more than anything. She didn’t recognize them, which was good. It’s why Jack and Cas didn’t come along, she’d recognise them.

“Why are you doing this?” Sam asked, stepping back as the ice cracked more and more, falling to the grass and dirt where it slowly melted. Instead of answering, she broke out of the ice and jumped into the pipe before Y/n or Sam could stop her.

“God dammit, that shit hurts!” Dean complained loudly. “I’m pretty sure it’s fiery, acidic shit! It’s brown!” He continued to whine, shoving away the bottle Toad kept using to squirt water on him, washing away the muck completely.

“Dammit,” Y/n muttered, but brushed it off to check on Dean who was still wincing dramatically, curled up on the ground while Toad searched his backpack. Was that thing bigger on the inside? She kneeled beside him and smiled down at him, taking his hand in hers. “You’re gonna be fine,” she reassured him, lifting his hand to her cheek.

“I forgive you. You know that?” Dean coughed, softening her smile. “I can’t stay mad at you, I love you so much. But I need to know why you hid it from me.” He groaned once more, clutching his stomach with his free hand, bringing her face down. She kissed his forehead rather than his lips, bumping the red hat off his head with a nudge of her nose.

She indulged him as she squirmed and wriggled on the ground. With a sigh and a thought sweep over his grimacing face, she responded: “Because… I know you, Dean. You’d throw yourself into the case and then blame yourself for every little bad thing that happens. You’d be unhappy and pressured, and… you’d sacrifice yourself for the whole damn world. I hate that. So I decided to hide it from you because… I’d rather you be stressed out by cake flavours and colour schemes… you know? Pressured by the guest list, the location, and the music… I just want you to be happy, but… I should have been honest, I know, Dean… I truly had your best interest at heart,” she apologised once more, partially amused by Dean who was now laying on his side, squirming despite the sludge being nowhere in sight, absorbed by the dirt.

He looked up at her lovingly, despite having a somewhat different face, it was cute. He was cute. Maybe cuter, with those giant green eyes full of admiration. A flush on his cheeks. She hadn’t looked at herself, but the way he looked at her, more animated, made her feel like a whole universe.

“Fuck Lush,” he whispered, “fuck the Monument, and the omniverse, and heaven, and the monsters, and everything else that tries to get in my way. In our way. I don’t care about the job. Or the mission, or whatever the hell else there is. I don’t care that I’m afraid all the time. I don’t even care that you’ll outlive me. All I know is that right now—as I exist in the same time and space as you, right now and forever, I want to be with you-”

“Don’t tell me all of this when you’re dying,” she interrupted his emotional speech, which made him pout. Toad, or Cas, gave her a heart from his backpack after a few minutes of digging through it, and she interrupted Dean halfway through his speech by shoving it into his mouth. Dean’s brows furrowed, he chewed slowly, and gulped down the heart.

“That’s one way to shut me up,” Dean chuckled after swallowing. Dean slowly sat up, looking at Toad, Sam, the love of his life, then scooped her up in his arms.

“You’re wet,” she giggled, hugging him back. He buried his face in her neck, laughing with her.

“I usually say that to you.” Dean kissed her neck, then pulled away as Sam groaned in disgust.

“You’re right,” she murmured, burying her fingers in his soft hair. “Everything that you said… I feel that way, too. I’ve got all this information in my head that I didn’t have before and I’m ancient in ways that I just don’t feel like I am anymore and.. I know what I want, I know what I need… and I’m not gonna let this, Lush, or anyone else stop me from trying to get it.” She pulled away and smiled at him, remembering they were in different bodies. “Well, I mean… I’d like your consent… but I already know how you feel, so really, I just need you to trust me.”

Instead of answering her, he leaned forward and kissed her glossy, pink lips. One chaste, long kiss that made her smile, fluttery, warm, and breathless.

“Feels weird kissin’ you here,” she mumbled against his mouth.

“You’re still a great kisser,” Dean pulled away with a smirk.

“We didn’t get to stop Lush, or even get to talk to her, but at least we’ve intercepted her satchel…” Sam interrupted their moment. They smiled at each other before turning to Sam. Dean stood up, then helped Y/n up off the wet ground.

“Jack will make sure she can’t come back here…” She reassured Sam, taking Dean’s hand, she took one last look around. Toad smiled at her, a silent goodbye. “Let’s go home.”

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flowersandbigteeth · 2 years

Text

Your alien husband sleeps with you

General Plot: Your alien husband wants to try sleeping in the same bed as you and you explore the building a bit.

Kherae alien (Idreod) x female reader with glasses

Word Count: 3k

🌶️ NSFW MASTERPOST 🌶️

W: very brief sa in the form of a kiss, angst, but otherwise sfw alien fluff, mention of breeding and forced marriage.

You woke to some fresh clothes and a warm meal. After dressing and eating you straightened up the office from your passion. Idreod had knocked over a chair and dumped everything on your desk onto the floor. You were busy repotting the plants when he returned.

He moved tightly, his fists clenching.

“Something on your mind?” you asked.

He looked at you, his expression shuttered.

“There’s something I would like to discuss with you,” he said.

You leaned against your desk, crossing one leg lazily in front of the other. Your earlier romp had put you in a good mood.

“Sure, ask me anything,” you said.

His cheeks darkened and he suddenly looked shy. After a moment he seemed to gather his resolve and straightened his back.

“I’d like to sleep together,” he said.

You blinked up at him.

“Already? You don’t need to recover?” you asked.

His cheeks got even darker.

“No…that’s not what I mean…I meant in bed. I thought we should sleep in the same bed at night,” he went on.

“Oh,” you gasped, your fist going to your throat. That was something different all together. You weren’t sure you were ready for that level of intimacy. Up to that point you’d enjoyed having the privacy of your own room except for when Dessin showed up. It somehow kept the boundaries of your relationship clear. This was a contract marriage. You were your own person.

“Nevermind, it was a silly notion…” he said, stiffly.

“Just wait a minute,” you heard yourself say and you chewed your thumbnail, “I’m not saying no. It’s just…why do you want to sleep with me?”

He drew his brow.

“Dessin keeps showing up in your room. I can keep him away if I’m nearby,” he said.

Your lip twisted.

“Is that the only reason?” you asked.

He flinched, seemingly taken aback by your question.

“I…also thought…it might be nice to be closer to you,” he said quietly.

Your heart fluttered.

“Okay,” you said, “we can try it for one night and if we both like it then we can keep doing it.”

He nodded.

“I have some meetings to attend, I’ll meet you in your suite at 10. If there’s anything you need, just ask Airies.”

He gave you a quick bow before fleeing the room. You finished straightening up and glanced at the documents Idreod wanted you to review. You wrinkled your nose at them and decided instead you wanted to explore the building. So far you’d only really seen your residence level and his study.

“Do you need anything my lady?” Airies asked, as you passed his desk on your way out.

“No,” you said, feeling a bit naughty, “I was just going to look around the tower a bit, if that’s okay.”

He smiled at you.

“Every inch of this tower is accessible to you, my lady,” he said, “the master had all of the locks keyed to your bio-signature. You can go wherever you like.”

That surprised you. You’d expected to be treated like a prisoner, not given the keys to the castle.

“Oh, well thank you Airies,” you said before hustling off.

You started with the floor you were on, poking your head into Idreod’s library of human books. There were some airy meeting spaces, as well as the small kitchen and utility rooms used by the maids.

The next floor down were lush guest bedrooms. You were heading to the elevator to go to the next floor when your vision went dark.

“What the-”

“Guess who?” a voice said in your ear.

You jumped and whirled around to find Dessin standing behind you. His face was still bruised, but he looked otherwise okay.

“Dessin!” you exclaimed, “how are you feeling?”

He gave you a lopsided smile.

“It warms my heart that you were worried about me,” he said.

You blushed and took a step back.

“Well I watched you get beat up, of course I was worried about you,” you said.

“I feel better,” he said, “we Kherae are durable and heal quickly. My brother didn’t do any permanent damage. I’m more worried about you.”

You shook your head and held up your hands.

“Don’t be worried about me. I’m completely fine,” he explained.

He pinched your chin between his fingers.

“I can tell you’re like Idreod,” he said, frowning, “you take everything on your shoulders. It’s okay to share the burden sometimes.”

You took a step out of his grasp and looked at your shoes.

“Dessin, if you continue on like this you’re going to get really hurt,” you said.

He made a noise in the back of his throat and advanced on you. You stumbled back into the wall behind you and his hand hit it, caging you in.

“Do you think I care if my big brother bullies me?” he hissed. You felt his tail wind around your calf, the tip gliding eagerly up and down your skin.

“Um…” you gulped, “I just mean. I want you two to get along. You are brothers and you shouldn’t fight.”

His other hand drifted to your face and his finger grazed your cheek. His ink, black eyes studied you. He smirked.

“Maybe…for you,” he said, “I can be persuaded.”

You put your hands on his chest and pushed him away.

“Dessin, you are too close,” you protested.

He sighed, stepping back.

“You are like my brother in that way, too. Too responsible,” he grumbled, “he’s taking advantage of your sense of duty and manipulating you.”

You shrugged.

“It’s a simple transaction. I know what I agreed to,” you argued.

He chuckled darkly.

“You have no idea what it’s like living with my brother for years. He will make you feel so small just with his presence,” he muttered, “I don’t wish that future for you.”

You put your hand on his arm.

“You two have all of these ideas about each other, but if you just talked…” you said.

He shook his head.

“Talked? Talked about what? Talking only gives him a chance to belittle me,” he said, his eyes wet.

You bit your lip. Maybe you didn’t know Idreod well. The side he’d shown you was completely different than how he treated his brother. There was a massive chasm between the two of them you weren’t sure how to bridge.

“He and my father always thought I was useless,” he went on, wiping his eye with the back of his hand, “nothing I did was ever good enough for them. My father only ever cared about Idreod. He was the model child. He told me he even looks like my mother, that’s why he liked looking at his face. Mine offended him. He sent me away to school. He didn’t even visit me on vacations and Idreod just ate it all up. He loved being father’s favorite.”

“It sounds like your father was a hard man,” you said, “I wonder if Idreod was as happy as you think he was.”

He looked somewhere over your shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s just like him now,” he said, “he’s always looking down on me. He wont even let me help with the family business. He wants to control everything so everyone is beholden to him. It’s the only way he can keep anyone around with his horrible personality. He couldn’t even find a wife on his own, he had to buy you to get a female to even spend time in his presence.”

“That seems really lonely,” you commented, “it doesn’t seem like he had a lot of opportunities for social interaction as a child.”

His eyes flicked to you.

“You are too reasonable,” he said, smiling through damp eyes, “Idreod really doesn’t deserve you.”

He seemed to be thinking about something before he came to a resolution.

“I’m going to fix this for you,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“Wha…Wait a second!” you shook your head quickly and raised your hands, “you really don’t have to do that Dessin. Everything is fine!”

He grabbed you by the waist and leaned down pressing his lips against yours. His kiss was nothing like Idreod’s and it was not welcome, but it was over before you had a moment to push him away.

“Don’t worry about it (Y/N), I’ll protect you,” he said, “I have a plan.”

“Listen to me,” you argued, “I really don’t need any help, Dessin.”

He shook his head and pushed your hair out of your face.

“You’re so innocent-”

Someone cleared their throat and you looked over Idreod’s shoulder to find Airies standing there, looking annoyed.

“Master Dessin,” he said, tapping his foot. “I’m sure you have other things to do than assault the lady.”

“Nobody asked-”

You quickly slid around Dessin’s wide body.

“Oh good Airies,” you said, trying to thank him with your eyes, “I was just looking for you. We should review some carpet samples for this floor. I don’t like the color of this one. In fact, let’s remodel the entire floor. The whole thing needs to be redone. I’m sure it will take us all day, so let’s start now!”

“Of course, my lady,” he said, holding out his hand, “please come with me. There’s a pretty conservatory on the roof. I’ll have some samples and tea arranged. Access to the top three floors is strictly monitored, so you can enjoy your privacy.”

You almost tripped over yourself rushing out of there.

“(Y/N)!” Dessin called after you.

You glanced over your shoulder as Airies hustled you into the elevator.

“Wait for me!” he called as the doors closed.

When he was out of sight, you leaned against the wall and rubbed your eyes, groaning.

“Are you feeling alright, my lady?” he asked.

You sighed.

“Yes, just a little light headed. Tea will help…Tell me, how long have the two of them been at odds with one another?” you asked.

“I’ve never seen the master and his brother get along,” he said, “the only interaction they have is when the master hands out his monthly stipend.”

He paused.

“But I will say, the master always insists on giving it to Master Dessin personally. He calls him to his office every time. I used to think it was because he liked to hold it over the young Master’s head, but sometimes I wonder if maybe it is the only opportunity he has to see him.”

You nodded. Family was important to you and if you was going to be part of this family, you wanted it to be whole. There had to be a way to bring Dessin and Idreod together.

–

Idreod stood outside of your bedroom staring at the door. Maybe he should have had you meet him in his room, he wondered. Would I be more comfortable with you in his space? He shook his head. It was about your comfort. You would be more comfortable in your own bed.

He’d spent 45 minutes deciding on pajamas, finally choosing some gray sweatpants at Airies recommendation. He thought they were a little casual, but he insisted that human women unilaterally appreciated this simple garment. He hoped his bare chest didn’t repulse you.

In battle, he overcame his nerves by imagining my victory, but what was victory in this battle? He didn’t know what he expected from sleeping next to you…He just knew for some reason he wanted to.

Are you going to stand here all night?

Idreod took a deep breath and turned the knob, forcing one foot in front of the other.

“Oh Idreod, you came!” you said, looking up from your book.

Your eyes immediately dropped to his crotch and he realized why Airies recommended these pants.

“Are you okay?” you asked, hurriedly finding somewhere that was not the massive log imprinted in his sweatpants or his tantalizingly sculpted bare chest to look, “you look flushed. Come sit down. Did you have a tiring day?”

You dropped your book and rose to your knees. As Idreod watched your ruffled hair brush your bare cheeks and the sleepy glitter in your eyes when you looked up at him his mouth fell open.

He realized all at once he didn’t deserve this. He was trying to cheat and buy something that didn’t rightfully belong to him. This was some other male’s wife, dressed in a chaste white nightgown in your bed. Someone who’d fallen in love with you honestly. Someone who had bought you flowers, read you poetry, and charmed his way into your heart over years. Someone who had asked your permission. Maybe he was a childhood friend, who’d pined for you from afar. Maybe he’d have met you in a cafe and bought you a drink. Whoever he was, Idreod stole this moment from him.

He crossed the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He was a greedy bastard. He wasn’t going to let that male have you.

“I’m just glad to see you,” Idreod said, honestly.

You smiled and your cheeks warmed, while you sank back down into the fluffy comforter. A big yawn overtook you and he laughed.

“Did you have a productive afternoon?” he asked you.

You made a noise in the back of your throat and gathered yourself. For the sake of the entire household and Dessin’s life you were not mentioning his kiss from earlier, though he deserved to get roughed up for jumping you.

“Yes. I’ve decided to remodel the guest level so I looked at carpet samples with Airies,” you said, “but I ended up going with warm wood floors instead of carpet after all. I’ll pick out some nice rugs to soften it up.”

“Redecorate the whole building,” he told you, “I just had the architect copy our office on Akhet and add the residential floors. I’ve always thought it was a little ugly.”

He rubbed his chin.

“Or maybe we should build a new building with an architect of your choice, it is your home. It should represent the archduchess’ taste,” he went on.

You held up your hands and shook your head.

“Oh no!” you said, “I think one floor is plenty. Inspiration just struck me when I was there. Heh. Heh.”

You rubbed your neck, nervously and Idreod didn’t want to make you feel pushed so he backed off.

“Of course, you don’t have to do it all at once,” he said.

You cocked her head at him.

“Why are you sitting like that?” you asked, “aren’t you going to get in bed?”

“Yes,” he said, stiffly, his eyes a bit wide.

You looked at me for a moment while he failed to move, staring at you, before pulling back the covers for him.

“Come on, get in,” you said.

He blinked at you and his eyes looked a bit wet for a moment. She welcomed me into her bed, he thought, his mind drifting.

He stiffly climbed into the bed next to you.

“Do you like to read before bed?” you asked, holding up a small tablet and your book, “I have the one I’m reading in hard copy, so you can borrow my e-reader if you want. I have an unlimited subscription.”

He took the little device and flipped through the bestseller list without absorbing the titles. Beside him you settled in. It was nice sitting next to him, reading. You’d thought you would be uncomfortable and feel put upon, but it actually felt nice, domestic. You could see yourself doing this every night.

You thought you would have trouble sleeping, but soon the words of your book ran together and your head bobbed a few times and then you toppled over onto Idreod’s shoulder, snoring lightly.

He gently slipped the book out of your hand and glanced at the page you were on.

“There was no light in this world before you, darling. It was a cold, barren desert crawling with twisted souls. You brought the sun. You brought the dawn...”

He wished he had pretty words for you. Would his petty words even bear any weight on your heart?

He pulled your glasses off of your nose and folded them, placing them on the bedside table. Careful not to wake you, he pulled you into his chest. You moaned lightly and shifted, burying your face in his bare skin.

His heart pounded and he worried it would disturb you with how loud it was rapping at the inside of his ribcage. He barely slept the entire night. He dozed, waking to watch you sleep only to fall asleep again. Maybe he was worried you were a dream and would slip out of his fingers.

#alien fluff #sfw alien fluff #monster fluff #yandere fluff #yandere male #alien x reader #x reader #monster x reader #yandere x reader #exophelia

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lyculuscaelus · 4 days

Text

End of Nostoi

ἔνθ᾽ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες, ὅσοι φύγον αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον, οἴκοι ἔσαν, πόλεμόν τε πεφευγότες ἠδὲ θάλασσαν: Now all the others, as many as fled from utter destruction, were at home, having escaped from war and waves. (Odyssey, book 1, line 11–12)

Just a little reminder that Homer put this here for a reason—first of all, to emphasize that the other Achaeans’ toils had been done—their war finished, their home returned, to contrast with Odysseus, a man still trapped on Ogygia, still yearning to return to his home and wife, as the following lines (13–15) point out:

τὸν δ᾽ οἶον νόστου κεχρημένον ἠδὲ γυναικὸς νύμφη πότνι᾽ ἔρυκε Καλυψὼ δῖα θεάων ἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι, λιλαιομένη πόσιν εἶναι. But him (Odysseus) alone yearning for his return and his wife, The powerful nymph Calypso, heavenly goddess, still restrained him In her hollow caves, longing for him to be her husband.

This is to incite pathos in the narrative: all of his friends who didn’t die along the way had made it back, but he alone was still suffering. This is again proven by Nestor’s speech in book 3, in which he stated that Diomedes, Neoptolemus, Philoctetes, Idomeneus—the very heroes who would otherwise be wandering around in Italy or in Epirus as other later traditions mentioned—had returned home safely.

Another thing to think about is Dios boulē (Διὸς βουλή), roughly speaking, “Zeus’s plan/will”. It’s quite a dominant theme in Homeric poems, but here I just wanted to point out that it was Zeus who devised the mournful return for Achaeans (and executed by Athena—destruction for others, assistance for Odysseus when he got to Ithaca), as mentioned by Nestor:

καὶ τότε δὴ Ζεὺς λυγρὸν ἐνὶ φρεσὶ μήδετο νόστον Ἀργείοις, ἐπεὶ οὔ τι νοήμονες οὐδὲ δίκαιοι πάντες ἔσαν: τῶ σφεων πολέες κακὸν οἶτον ἐπέσπον μήνιος ἐξ ὀλοῆς* γλαυκώπιδος ὀβριμοπάτρης. And then indeed Zeus in his mind planned a mournful return For Argives, since we all were in no wise prudent or just— Thus many of them met an evil fate Through the destructive wrath of the bright-eyed daughter of that mighty father. (Odyssey, book 3, line 132–135) * “destructive wrath of Athena” or “wrath of destructive Athena”…technically the latter fits the word sequence of the original text better, but considering this ἐξ is moved behind μήνιος due to fit the dactylic structure, I’d say it works for both, and the former one seems more plausible.

The entire point of nostoi was then to punish the Achaeans for their crimes during the sack of Troy; on the other hand, their punishment was already fulfilled during the time of their homecoming. And this would also be the fulfillment Zeus’s plan: for them to return to sing the tales of his plan, from the start of the war to the end of the return.

Thus, in the Homeric context, by the time Odysseus went home, the other Achaeans must have either perished along the way or arrived home safe and sound, with no more trials awaiting. It is the will of Zeus. It is the end of their tribulations. It is the closing of a full cycle—an Epic Cycle.

#my translation #tagamemnon #greek mythology #the odyssey #odysseus #posthomerica #nostoi #zeus #homer’s odyssey #the epic cycle #trojan war #classics tag #ancient greek #Lyculī sermōnēs

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sil-te-plait-tue-moi · 8 months

Text

You're killin' me!

Quick summary: Phantom and Maverick have had their fair share of head-butting – competition, ego and feelings don't mix well, apparently. Finally, however, they seem to reach a peace after a day on the beach.

Word count: 3K (getting into writing these shorter fits woo!)

Warnings: Kind of angsty but also you make out so like is it really that bad; allusions to smut; lots of swear words; yeah, not much for this, it's pretty PG.

A/N: YAYYY, I'm back, sort of but also not really but also ENJOY THIS FIC. Yes, technically it is an extract from an unfinished chapter of the mav x reader Wattpad story I'm halfway through writing (yes, I have a wattpad, it's called nonoitsnina), and maybe (BIIIIG emphasis on MAYBE) I will do a second part where y'all actually fuck and stuff but for now just take this. If anyone's still slinking around the Top Gun stuff, that is. Also, Bee is your RIO here. Just to preface. And Phantom (YOUR CALL-SIGN) shortens to Tommy or Tom from time to time but like if you read the Wattpad book (YES I KNOW I SOUND LIKE A SCARY 14 YEAR OLD) it makes more sense. OKAY ENJOY COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED HAVE A LOVELY JUBBLY DAY

***

Stupid smiles plastered bright across their faces, Bee and Goose are already dashing down the road, speed-walking like a couple of suburban mothers, one swathed in a beach towel and picnic blanket, the other lopsided with a half-empty cooler grasped in one hand.

I watch them go, brow furrowed, over my shoulder, slightly disconcerted.

“I guess they—” Mav pauses, then huffs, equally as confused, “—really wanted those ice-creams.”

Sure. That’s why they keep glancing back at us and giggling like idiots: ice-creams.

Maverick and I are strolling along the boardwalk back home – despite washing my feet at the tap, there’s still sand between my toes that tickles my skin with every step, but I could care less. He’d asked if I wanted us to take the bus—but I’d said no. Call me a loon (Bee certainly would), but, even after a full day of work—or play—nothing beats sitting outside in the quiet. Except sleep, I guess. But, when I can keep my eyes open, looking out a good view—and, boy, is this watercolour sunset some view—is perfect. After growing up in a city full of dust and cracks, I’ve embraced it: I’m gonna be one of those old ladies in a rocking chair on her porch, day and night, night and day.

Having just finished my own crêpe, I eat Maverick’s. When I ask him if he’s bothered by it, he tells me he’d bought them both for me in the first place.

Sweet. Y’know, I really thought I was a good judge of character. I had to be, to be fair, growing up, pursuing this career – you must always assume the worst until proven otherwise. That’s the safe way, and it’s served me well. Until it had me screaming and yelling at everyone. That’s not—right. It makes me absolutely nauseous.

So, all of these estimated traits, good and bad, have either been tossed or been filtered out.

It boils down to Maverick and his easy grin. He walks along the edge of the sidewalk, just looking at me with that goddamn easy grin. I’ve half a mind to slap him, just to give me a break from his attention. It makes me horribly self-conscious, forces a little thrill on me, like when you’re at the apex of a rollercoaster, just about to tip over. It feels like that, but it also feels like light streaming through a half-blinded window, so the warmth just collects there on the sill so that, when you touch it, you wish you could roll under it like a blanket. Of course, that warmth accumulates. I’m sweating. Like—a—pig.

Jesus, I want to scream into my hands with how good he looks. His dark hair is still slightly damp with seawater, stiff in some places and criminally soft in others. Every now and then, he’ll pull at the white button-up that sticks just a little to his chest, to the contours of his stomach, and fan the skin there. Jesus Christ. My hands are basically twitching to touch him there, to feel the heat of him beneath my palm, solid and beating gently with his heartbeat. I clasp my fingers very tightly around my fork, my crêpe slip, concentrating it all into one point.

I can’t tell if feeling like this is the best or the worst. Jesus, imagine if the other guys knew. They’d never shut up about it. Christ, they’d never take me seriously again. I don’t want to be the “girlfriend” – I want to be a formidable pilot. So many people just don’t think those two things can ever coexist.

Not that I want to be a girlfriend. I couldn’t say that word out loud without feeling wrong. I’m a lot of things, but I don’t know if I could be that.

A bike passes with an urgent ring of its bell, and Maverick twists his body in towards mine, hand hovering over my back, to push me out of the way from it.

I go blank, scrambling to remember where we were in the conversation, mouth dry.

“So, you’re telling me,” I begin, grinning, “going into Return of the Jedi, you hoped that Luke and Leia would end up together?”

Mav sighs and rolls his eyes, tearing off a little of what remains of the crêpe. ‘Well, at the time, I didn’t know they we’re fuckin’ siblings—”

“Maverick, that is incest.”

“Come on!” he laughs, and it’s the best sound in the world. “Goose thought so, too! Luke’s the main guy, so, like, it’s not not logical to think he’d get the main girl, right—?”

“But it’s Han Solo!” I exclaim, throwing my head back with a snort. He smiles down at me, eyes warm, in a way that I’m probably misinterpreting and will replay over and over in my head when I’m trying to sleep in bed tonight. “I thought you’d be a Han Solo kind of guy.”

“What, I remind you of him?” He tosses his head back and smoulders. I fake a gag.

“Well, he’s just—he’s just—” I trail off into laughter. “He’s really—I can’t explain it! If you ask any girl, she’ll know what I mean. Han Solo is so—” I giggle again, remembering how stunned and attracted to him I was when I first watched A New Hope in the theatre. “He’s just a lot of things.”

“Oh, yeah?—like what?”

Gosh, I can feel myself burning up – does he have to lower his voice like that? Does he have to try and catch my eye? God, it’s almost easier to hate him, to be honest – at least then I wouldn’t be acting like such a puddle.

“Like, charming and daring and, um—and clever, and—I don’t know. It’s just the way he speaks or something.”

He hums, hands in his pockets, his dad’s jacket draped over his forearm – I don’t think I’ve seen him go anywhere without that leather jacket. “And you like those things?” he pushes.

I bark out a laugh. “C’mon, Maverick, everyone like those things.” True enough – I could be blind and still fall in love with Han Solo and his smooth-talking. “And why Luke? Even if they weren’t siblings, why him? He had zero chemistry with—”

“Because he’s the chosen one!”

“—yeah, well, he—”

“He’s cool! Luke is objectively cool. He’s a pilot, he’s a Jedi, he’s a leader, he’s—”

“What-ever!” I exclaim, scrunching up my nose at him, and we giggle into quiet. “I’m not saying I didn’t like him as a character – I think he’s an amazing character. I just wouldn’t fuck ‘im.” I cackle at the absurdity of it all.

We continue walking.

Maybe all of this will fade in a couple hours. Maybe it’s the magic of Top Gun, this beach, this dusk that settles in fast around us, the lights that illuminate the darkening boardwalk. It’ll all be over in a couple more weeks, anyway. Bee ‘n’ I’ll go back to the carrier and be on with things, and Maverick will do whatever it is that he does. I know Goose says we should make plans to meet after school’s out, but who really has the time to spare? So, thank God Mav didn’t ride in on his motorcycle, ‘cause, if he’d insisted I hop on and wrap my arms around him and rest my head on his shoulder and la-la-la, I’d be in great danger of sleeping with him.

“D’you wanna head straight back?”

I look up at him. “Hmm?”

Jesus, he needs to tone down his looks or something – it’s disarming, a hazard, really. Those green eyes are givin’ me some mean butterflies, alright. Nowadays, I’ll see him fresh out of the sky, hair spiky and dishevelled with sweat – he doesn’t wear helmet hair as well as others, that’s for certain – and I’ll have to bury my face in my locker. I’ll see him absentmindedly chewing on his dog-tags, and it’ll have me air-headed for the rest of a lecture. I can’t classify it as a distraction, but it’s—certainly not intended. My head isn’t screwed on so tight, and I can’t keep tipping up in the cockpit – I know my ambition to win and these thoughts about Maverick have no correlation, but, good God, maybe if I could just focus more in classes—

“There’s—” he starts, then swallows. “We could go to the pier. Not really a view anymore, but we could see some lights. Boats, maybe.”

“Yeah,” I reply, excitement jolting through my body.

“Yeah?” I nod. He smiles. “Okay.”

When he asks me if I’m cold, he readjusts his jacket on his arm, like he’s already made his mind up to lend it to me. Of course, I shake my head – I’d probably end up stinking up the damn thing with how much I seem to be sweatin’.

We take our time to the end of the pier. When we reach the railing, we step up onto the bar and lean out to look down at the softly lapping water.

“You—erm—”

I turn to look at him, and the stutter of his words stops abruptly, his eyes wide. He looks at me dumbly, like I’m one of the seven fuckin’ wonders. Now, I’ve seen Maverick drunk, stupid, and downright embarrassing himself—just think of the time she lost that fuckin’ lovin’ feeling—but, even when he doesn’t know something, he always keeps face. He always has something to say. Now?—now, here, he looks hopeless.

“You—”

“I what, Mitchell?” I grin, shoving my hair behind my ear in light of the strong breeze that suddenly billows in from across the sea. “Watching the ships, right?” There they are: little dots on the horizon.

He flushes, snapping his attention away. “Right.”

I know what’s coming – I pick up on all of it: the fidgeting of his hands, the downcast dart of his eyes, the way he bites down on the inside of his cheek. Though it kinda perks me up to begin with, I just end up wilting again at the reminder of a certain instructor who I am evidently not.

Still, it’s nice to hear him say: “It’s just—” I tilt my head towards him, “—I think you’ve got great eyes. Great everything really. I dunno. I think—you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

I snort. “That 4% really got to you, hey, Mav?”

He doesn’t laugh, just pauses, takes a second to think about what he’s going to say. “I—don’t know—how to say it.”

My heart drops—in the bad way. “What?"

“That I think about you—a lot.”

Oh, Christ. I let out a deep sigh, and, immediately, his face drops like a stone. “Oh, don’t do that, Maverick.”

“Do what?” he protests through a weak smile.

I recoil just a little bit: he’s a flirt, yes, but I didn’t take him for a dirtbag. “Do what?” my ass. He knows what. Blonde-hair-and-bright-eyes, who’s what. Think of how smart she is, how accomplished she is, how beautiful she is, how level and respected she is – all of these things and a man can still write Charlie of as not that big a deal? That’s fuckin’ low.

“You’re being mean,” I tell him firmly, trying to force down the disgust that pushes under my tongue and the embarrassment that burns over my cheeks.

Maybe Carole and Goose really weren’t exaggerating. Maybe he has got eight women all lined up for him, just waiting for him to call.

His hand makes to touch my shoulder but doesn’t end up making contact – it just hovers, unsure. Either way, I wasn’t going to let it happen. Either way, I find myself scurrying back, away.

Mav has the audacity to look confused. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to—”

“So, what?” I snap, hopping down from the railing and scowling unabashedly at him once more. “I’m one of those girls you string along?”

He laughs – only, it’s not cute anymore; it’s fucking annoying. “No—!”

The wind blows strongly, warm, still, but with the promise of a storm. I have to raise my voice in order to get myself across, I tell myself: “What?—you wanna challenge yourself, or something? Me and Charlie—?”

This?—this seems to piss him off. Mav’s expression crumples into indigence as he protests strongly again, “No—!"

“But—”

“Phantom,” he presses desperately, eyes pleading for me to listen – I’ve seen that expression on him before; every time I’ve ignored it, I’ve ended up regretting it, yelling myself silly over a misunderstanding. So, I pause. I listen. The urgent haze fades away within the span of three deep breaths.

“I wanted Charlie’s advice on how to speak to you. I was nervous—am nervous—and I don’t want to say the wrong thing. She’s very—to-the-point. And Goose and Bee fluff like their lives depend on it.”

Nice one. Nice going, Tommy: do what you do best and throw a fuckin’ rage, why don’t you?

“I thought you didn’t like me—” I say to him dumbly, “—after what I said to you.”

We don’t talk about that argument in the locker rom. We don’t talk about the one after volleyball either, or the one in the air. It’s no excuse – that Viper is breathing down my neck, that I know Skipper expects highly of me – to act like a dick to all the competitors that block my way to that damn trophy. I need to climb this hill.

And here Maverick is, thinking about me—a lot.

“Your opinion matters to me more than you’d think,” he admits with a snarky, little snort. “You’re—” he trails off; the gale dies down. “You’re just—I don’t know how to put it. I’m—not great at the serious-talking stuff.”

“Embarrassed?” I tease. God, I know I am.

He grins. “A little bit.”

We make our way back to the dorms, talking. He tells me he’s liked me ever since this one lecture at the beginning of Top Gun—after the induction, after the bar, after the first exercise—when he’d said something dumb in response to Charlie’s criticism. According to him: “You turned back and looked at me and—and you just smiled. God, I dunno – I just couldn’t look away from you. Even—even after you, y’know, y’turned back around, I—I was just staring at the back of your head, hoping you’d do it again. That you’d look at me again, smile at me again.”

I don’t even remember that day.

He walks me to the door of my dorm, where the windows are all dark and the blinds all flat shut.

No way to make it up to him. No time, either. Should’ve kissed him right then and there at the bar that first night when he came over to the jukebox. Bee saw it in my face – I know that now. I should’ve let him win that bet with himself.

I might be about to do him that favour now, I guess. All flushed, all pretty, all nervous—he gets nervous?—Maverick is so close to me that the heat of his body radiates onto mine, far too dangerous for my liking. This is not what I intended. This is so far off my plan of how this program was gonna go.

But his nose is brushing mine, and his hands are so warm and gentle as they press over my arms.

“Can—?”

I nod softly. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

The kiss, when it comes, is this soft, tentative sink into a brittle release. The gentle press of his nose into my warm cheek elicits a quiet sigh from the both of us – the break from silence must render me into this here embarrassing mess, melting like the ice-cream we shared earlier in the hot sun, because Mav gets that shit-eating grin on his face like he’s watching me lose to him at volleyball all over again. Whatever – he’s the one that probably had to take a cold shower over how I looked.

I cup my hand over the back of his neck, drawing him closer still to me.

Maverick kisses like he’s paying attention to every single detail of it – his eyes are slanted just slightly open, watching my face, and one of his hands rests kindly over my neck, his fingers pressing just a little into the pulse point which I’m sure is racing like a damn horse by now.

Of course, he’s beautiful at this. Just my fuckin’ luck. Technically, yes, it is prohibited to have sexual relations on work premises. Even a man and a woman behind a locked door is assumed to be inappropriate – I’ve heard that one too many a time by the air boss back on the carrier. I’m far from a goody-two-shoes, but rules are rules for a reason. So, of course, it’s just my luck that I meet an unfairly handsome pilot with pretty eyes and entirely too destabilising a kiss. He trails his nose down along my jaw before burying it there in my neck; I hold him tight to me, fingers curling around the thick muscle of his shoulders.

When we kiss again, it’s different: searing, crushing, slow, breathless. The chorus of crickets and cicadas and other night-things is drowned out by the roaring of blood in my ears and the soft noise that slips past Mav’s lips as he pauses for breath, to pant hotly over my cheek.

“You’re gonna have to help me out here, stud,” I mumble helplessly against him, to which he nods fiercely, reaching out blind for the door-knob and guiding me stumbling into my room.

Bee isn’t here – upon the side table, there’s a little, folded note that reads in chicken-scratch handwriting: Staying with Goose for the night. Have fun!

#pete mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell x reader #pete mitchell #top gun #top gun maverick #goose bradshaw #tom cruise x reader #im back on my bullshit #i feel the need for speed #i need him in me

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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Royal Pain Part 9

Hello! Thank you so much for the out pouring of support last time. I love that everyone loved the tattoo idea. If you want to see a basic idea of what it would look like, check the reblogs of part 8 (though if I had the energy I would throw into an editing program I’d skinny up the sword a bit and make the wings wider).

We meet the candidates for the apprenticeship and we learn the history of Jeff’s tattoo (warning for racism and bad cops) and Eddie’s reason for the wings.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Steve walked back to the front the little paper in his shaking hands.

“I’ve already had a couple people this morning asking about the apprentice gig,” Robin told him. “When should I have them come in?”

Steve rubbed him bottom lip thoughtfully. “I don’t have to go to Dustin’s until 5pm on Sunday, so have them all come at 10am then.”

Robin nodded. “He choose a design then?” she asked, nodded to the paper in his hand.

Steve nodded back his lips pressed together as he handed it to her to scan.

She looked down at it in shock. “He picked this one?”

Steve nodded again, unsure if he could trust himself to speak.

“This is going to take a long time and a lot of money,” Robin whispered. “He’s aware of that, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve croaked. “He knows. He was very insistent and is able to pay for it. All of it.”

Robin nodded. “Then let’s get this bad boy printed for him then.”

She printed it into three pieces. One for each wing and one for the sword.

When he came back into the room, Eddie was laying on his chest with his shirt off. Steve licked his lips as his eyes trailed down the plains of Eddie’s back to where it dipped into the man’s jeans.

This was going to be a lot harder than he thought it was going to be.

“Okay,” Steve said after taking a moment to compose himself. “What we are going to do is trace the outlines and then we’ll spend two to three hours each week, working on it. It will probably take about ten to twelve weeks, doing it once a week. So if you want to move it up two days a week, I would recommend that.”

Eddie twisted to face him. “Yeah, I figured it was going to take some time. When I set up my appointments with Robin, I’ll make sure to do twice a week.”

“Sounds good,” Steve said, pulling on the latex gloves and sitting down. He scooted as close to Eddie as he could and picked his gun.

“You know,” he murmured over the sound of the gun. “I don’t think you ever said why you wanted the tattoo so badly you waited to find the right person to do it for you. And thanks for trusting me with it by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” Eddie said. “The work you did on Jeff’s tattoo was phenomenal. It was a very personal tattoo for him and you made it special. Did he tell you how got the scar he wanted you to cover up?”

Steve hummed, placing the first stencil down. “Yeah, something about how when Miranda and him first starting dating, someone called the cops on him, thinking he was kidnapping her. And how despite both of them saying they were on a date and Jeff having his hands up, the cop still fired, hitting his right arm.”

Eddie nodded. “It was messed up. He thought for sure Miranda was going to book it, but they stayed together and it’s been five years now.”

“So he got it for the fifth anniversary?” Steve asked, concentrating on the outline.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “It was Miranda’s suggestion, actually.”

“They seem like great people.”

Eddie smiled fondly. “The best. I think he’s still working up the courage to ask her to marry him.”

Steve laughed. “He better hurry up otherwise Robin might try and steal her from him.”

Eddie laughed too. “Well considering they both swing for both teams, she might actually have a chance.”

“Oh god,” Steve said as he finished the first wing. “Don’t tell Robin that. She might actually try. And I don’t want to mess up a good thing, you know?”

“Fair.”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip a moment. “But, yeah, the tattoo. It’s to commemorate a poor boy from the trailer park making it in the big city to play music for a living. Actually fucking making it.”

Steve smiled. “And the bat wings were for the aesthetic?”

“Hell yeah they are,” Eddie replied with a grin. “But, holy shit, Stevie. The sword of fucking Kas...it’s like you read my mind or some shit.”

Steve lifted the gun as he laughed. “Nah, I just listened when you and Dustin talked about it.”

Eddie adjusted himself in the chair and loosened the muscles in his shoulders a bit. He settled and nodded. “You did really good, sweetheart. I love it.”

They just fell into conversation as easy as breathing and far too soon Steve was done with the outline.

Steve pulled off his gloves, having set aside the gun already. “Go on, it’s not much to look at right now, but the bare bones are pretty fucking all right.’’

Eddie immediately bounced to his feet to go look in the mirror. He turned every direction and after a moment of watching him Steve stood up with a large hand mirror and tilted it until Eddie could see his back.

Eddie let out a gasp. “Holy fucking shit. This is going to be so epic. I can’t wait!”

Steve smiled fondly. “I’m glad it’s starting out okay, at least.”

Eddie grinned at him through the mirror. “It’s absolutely wicked.”

“Do you have someone who can rub the lotion on your back?” Steve asked, biting his bottom lip.

Eddie nodded. “The guys have offered to take turns helping me with it until it’s done.”

Steve hummed. He was a little disappointed. He was going to offer to do it for him. But it was a bit of a relief, knowing Eddie had such good friends that were willing to take care of him.

“That’s sweet of them,” he murmured, taking the time to gently wrap the tattoo the best he could in Saran wrap to protect it on the way home.

Eddie scoffed. “They only offered because they’re excitable children who want a sneak peak at the tattoo before anyone else.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, okay. That sounds like what I’d seen of them.”

Eddie turned around once Steve was done and grinned at him. “Am I going to see you at Nightmare Holes again this weekend?”

Steve winced. “I want to but I can’t this weekend. I’m meeting a couple people on Sunday morning morning and I cannot be hungover for that.’

Eddie huffed out a small chuckle. “Maybe.”

Steve shoved at him playfully. “I’ll make it up to you. Why don’t you come over again next Monday and I’ll make dinner for us again.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up. “That sounds great, wha’cha making?”

“What do you like?” Steve asked as he cleaned up. “Italian, Chinese, Mexican? Something else? I’m sure I could find a good recipe in time.”

Eddie tapped his lip with his index finger thoughtfully. “Can you do sesame chicken?”

Steve grinned. “Oh, I knew there was a reason I liked you. I love sesame chicken and have a kick ass recipe, I think you’ll love.”

Eddie grinned back. “Can’t wait pretty boy.”

Steve flicked his cleaning rag at Eddie’s ass. “Now go on, some of us poor schlubs have to work hard for our living, rock star.”

Eddie laughed in delight as he skipped away from Steve’s deadly aim with his rag. He got to the door and saluted, before turning on his heel and walking back to the front desk, shirt in hand.

Steve picked up a dozen donuts and coffees for him and Robin. Robin had already gone in to open the shop for the interviewees so he felt he owed it to her to at least get her coffee and donuts.

When he got to the shop he was a little surprised how many cars were out front. They couldn’t all be there for the apprenticeship, could they? He walked into see the entire waiting room filled with applicants.

He turned to Robin and she looked as shocked as he was. He set the donuts in front Robin’s desk and handed her the coffee.

“Hello,” he said turning around to greet the...he quickly counted, the six hopefuls. “I’m Steve Harrington and welcome to Royal Pain. You’re all welcome to have a donut and we have water and paper cups over to the side.” He gestured to where it was and most head turned to see where he meant.

“Is this really a tattoo parlor, man?” one of the applicants asked. He was what Steve would have stereotyped a California surfer boy. Bleach blond hair that fell to his shoulders, tanned skin, dark blue eyes that were currently glaring at Steve.

Steve let his shoulders roll back as he regarded the man in question. “What? The bright, colorful design precludes it from being a place people come to get tattoos, how?”

The guy leveled another glare at Steve and then leapt to his feet. “Whatever, this blows. I’m out of here.” He stormed out, pushing the door so hard it clanged against the wall harshly.

Steve looked at the remaining five. “Anyone else have a problem with the aesthetics?”

There were people that exchanged glances, but they ended up all shaking their heads no.

“Good.”

A pretty blonde girl with bright green eyes and a sparkling smile raised her hand.

“Yes?” Steve asked pointing at her.

“Not to be lumped in with the asshole that just left,” she began shyly, “but I really don’t see any tattoos on you and, well...”

Steve grinned. “And it makes it a little hard to trust me as a tattoo artist, right?”

She nodded, her high pony tail bouncing as she did.

Robin rolled her eyes, but wisely said nothing. Steve showed her his right forearm. “I didn’t do this one, this is the first tattoo I got though.” It was of a small vanilla ice cream cone. “I got this after my first real job at an ice cream shop that burned down.”

A lot of eyebrows shot up at that, but no one uttered a word.

He pulled at his collar showing a female robin on his shoulder right below the clavicle. “Got this one when my best friend turned twenty-one. She has a matching tattoo in the same place.”

He pulled up his shirt to show a lion devouring a bloody heart on his right side. “My friends called my lion-hearted, my detractors called me a bleeding heart, so I got this.”

Steve put his shirt down. “Yeah, I don’t look like your stereotypical tattoo artist that has their whole body covered in tats. But I’m one of those weirdos that only gets a tattoo if it means something to me. But make no mistake I’m good. I have had this shop for three years and only been a tattooist for five. And I’m taking on apprentices because this shop is so busy I need the help to lighten the load.”

The girl blushed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, heaving a heavy sigh. “People who look like me don’t usually become tattoo artists and I think that’s stupid. It shouldn’t just be a certain kind of person that has dyed black hair, piercings, and their body of work all over their body.”

She nodded. “I get what you mean.”

Steve smiled at her. “I figured you would.” He knew that if she was any good, he was going to pick her, hands down.

“Right,” he said turning his attention back to everyone. “I wasn’t expecting so many of you and I realize that isn’t fair to you. If you have somewhere else to be today, make an appointment with Robin,” he cocked his head her direction, “and I’ll meet with you personally at another time. But otherwise, I’ll have Robin call you in the order you arrived and we’ll talk in my room.”

He clapped his hands. “First, let’s give you a tour of the place and if you decide it’s not for you. No hard feelings. Except that guy.” He winked at them and they laughed.

He showed them his room and the other rooms that would be for the apprentices to practice in or once they got their own chair if they stayed, it would become their room.

One of the other guys decided that it wasn’t for him and Steve was left with four remaining hopefuls.

And what a strange bunch they were, too. He had the prep girl, but he also had a native boy that while he didn’t look the part of the surfer dude, embodied it with his very soul. If the guy got brought on, Steve would have to pull him aside and make sure he didn’t do marijuana at work, because the guy looked a little baked at the moment. He also had a Goth chick complete with the tattoos and piercings, and dyed black hair. She stuck out like a sore thumb, if Steve was honest. And the final hopeful was this squirrely looking guy with dark wavy brown hair.

All of them had more tattoos than Steve did.

He sighed to himself. He wasn’t sure this was going to work out. He knew he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, better than most, but still as he looked at the remaining applicants he felt a little disappointed.

He sighed and went back to the office to wait for Robin to call the first one in. It was going to be a long day.

***

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Look, I love Robin with all my heart, but we all know the reason she didn’t ask Vickie out wasn’t that she had a boyfriend, but that her partner was a boy. She would 100% back off if told to, but she would so go for it if she thought had a chance. (Looking at you Ronance shippers, if you think that Robin was flirting with Nancy in the Upside Down, Nancy was still with Jonathan at the time.)

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tattoo artist steve

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you-remind-me-of-the-babe · 9 months

Text

Another lovely year in this wonderful fandom. Here’s a little recap of how my year went:

My Writing:

Depth of Reason - Mature - 70k

How to Avoid a Scandal - Teen - 43k

Episode 3: The Diplomat, A Star Trek Redemption story - Teen - 13.5k

This list is much shorter than my list of fics written in 2022, but my fics last year were much shorter. Also, this word count is deceptive, because I wrote about 22k of Depth of Reason last year and about 20k of How to Avoid a Scandal last year as well. But! My writing goals this year were to finish these two WIPs and not take on any other projects until they were finished and I very nearly did that! Took on two projects (and more below), but I still finished these before the year finished, so pretty good!

Total words:

About 83k. Last year was more like 120k.

Other works:

Podfic of Petrichor - Teen - 34 minutes

Themes:

Finishing long works apparently! One was for my 2022 COBB and the other for my 2022 CORB. Even though these were started last year, they are the longest things I wrote since my first fic (49k) back in the second half of 2021.

Also, trying new things! Writing sci-if and recording a podfic felt very outside my wheelhouse at the time, but ultimately, I’m glad I went for it.