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o-sachi · 6 months ago

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Every Single Thing I Have ₊⊹ One Shot

ଳ Character; Michael Kaiser (Bllk)

ଳ Tags; mostly fluff, a bit of angst (happy ending), soft mihya, gn reader, no y/n

ଳ Note; inspired by Two by Sleeping at Last!

Selfish. Manipulative. Cold.

Those were the words often associated to him. You were well aware of what he was like on the field or how he treated others. But you could never seem to agree with them.

To you, Michael Kaiser was the most selfless and loving person you've come across in your life.

Sweetheart, you look a little tired When did you last eat? Come in and make yourself right at home Stay as long as you need

You knew the hardships that came with dating a football star. Everything else you could stomach, but to be away from him for weeks on end was something you couldn't overcome. So, whenever he left the country, he'd tell you to stay at his place for the time being. It's not quite the same as having him around, but to live in his space was comforting enough.

You'd sleep in his bed, occasionally use his clothes, and even bathe with his shampoo at times—all just to feel that he's right here with you. Sometimes he wonders why you haven't moved in yet.

You'd always say that you want to be financially stable first, not wanting to freeload off of him. But he scoffs each time.

"Love, I don't give a shit about that. I just want you here in my home," he'd always say.

His place was as good as yours. Parts of the apartment were decorated how you'd want it. You even had more products in the bathroom than he did. He'd integrate you in every particle of his life if he could.

Whenever he was around, he made sure you lived like royalty. You aren't allowed to lift a finger on his watch.

"Mihya, can you please just sit down for a moment? You just came home from practice remember?"

As always, he'd ignore you. "I'm only making dinner. No big deal."

"We can have our food delivered, so you can rest. Y'know?"

"And have you eat junk like fast food? No thanks," he retorts. Truthfully, as much as he cared about your health, he actually wanted to cook because it would be faster than waiting for a delivery. It had been hours since his last meal. It was often like that when he had practice. Time flies and eating becomes an after thought. But he never tells you that; he never wants you to worry about him.

You grumble. "Please, Mihya? I'll order us some food and you come here and cuddle with me instead."

You drive a hard bargain, he thought. Food can wait. He shuffled towards you on the sofa and plopped right beside you. His tattooed arm drapes over you in an instant.

You smile, knowing the hold you had over him.

Even with the bags under his eyes, he was still so handsome. Cupping his face, you caressed his cheek with your thumb. "Have you been sleeping well? Look at these bags."

He offers a lopsided smile in return. "If you think I'm ugly just say so."

You giggle at his dramatics. "You are literally the most beautiful man I've laid eyes upon," you say while pinching his cheek. "But seriously, are you getting enough sleep? You work too hard sometimes." He sighs, leaning into your touch. He brings up his hand to hold yours. "I get to sleep beside you later no? That's all that matters to me, love."

Tell me, is something wrong? If something's wrong, you can count on me You know I'll take my heart clean apart If it helps yours beat

If there's one thing in the world he hates more than himself, it was to see you in pain. Your tears were his kryptonite. Part of him hated to see you cry because he loved you too much. But another hated it because it reminded him of all the times he would cry when he was younger.

Hot salty tears triggered him; it stirred unwanted emotions within him. But he had to suck it up whenever you needed a shoulder to cry on. One of you had to stay strong and he'd gladly be the one to fill in the role.

He'd hold you—cradle you until everything was alright again. "Shhh, it's alright I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Kaiser had you in his arms. His grasp was as gentle as his words. It soothed you. Even if your eyes were swollen and muddled with tears, you could still see the pain in his eyes. It tugged at your heart knowing he felt so deeply for you. You'd go on a tangent about how cruel and unfair the world is—and he would agree. He had many things to say as well, but he had to put you first.

You'd cry and cry until you can't anymore. Exhaustion takes over and you simply pass out on his bed, unaware of the inner turmoil brewing inside of him. Kaiser sat beside you, weary face buried in his calloused palms. He wanted to cry as well.

But he couldn't because then you'd wake up.

It's okay if you can't find the words Let me take your coat And this weight off of your shoulders

You were the luckiest person in the world. Kaiser was everything—handsome, talented, financially stable, loving, and secure. At least... that's what you thought.

It wasn't your fault that he had an ongoing battle in his mind. If you knew, no doubt that you would help him. But he made sure to leave you disillusioned with his well-crafted facade.

When he's with you, he's all smiles. He's always strong enough for the both of you. When you're down—he's there to lift you up. And when you're at your highest—he's just right behind you, cheering you on.

He only wallows in his self-pity when he's alone—when you're far away from him. He couldn't bear the idea of you finding out how weak he truly was. He was scared that one day you'll realize what piece of trash he is for lying to you all this time.

Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss I will love you with every Single thing I have

"Love, what do you want for your birthday?" You hum, tapping a finger on your chin as if to show him you were thinking hard. After a while, you come up with your answer.

"I just want you. That's all." His eyes widen for moment, but he quickly composes himself. He knew you were a simple person, but he expected something material... something of value. To think you'd settle for something so little was preposterous.

"That's all? You don't want a necklace or?"

Then your eyes light up. Ah... there it was. He got his hopes up too early. Of course, you want something expensive—something nice that actually had value and—

"How about we make those friendship bracelets? Y'know like we could DIY them with our own beads then make each other a bracelet? Can weeee?"

"For your birthday?" he asked quizzically. Kaiser was taken aback. What about the necklace? Were you really that easy to please? "Yes, for my birthday. I mean... we could go out to dinner or something. I'm fine with anything as long as you're there." He falls silent. Kaiser had never felt this before... the feeling of being needed. He knows he probably looks like an idiot, staring at you like he had seen a ghost. But he couldn't help it. His heart was throbbing and that was the only thing he could focus on.

Your expression drops as soon as you see his blank stare. "Hey... I mean, if bracelets aren't your thing then—" He cuts you off with a hug. It took you a while to reciprocate because it came out of nowhere. Sure, he hugs you all the time, but this hug in particular felt heavy—like it had some meaning behind it.

"Mihya? Are you okay?" you ask, wrapping your arms around him in response. And he'd hold you tighter. He'd screw his eyes shut, savoring your warmth as if it was only temporary. "Let's do those bracelets... just tell me where we can buy the beads."

He would gladly buy every single kind and more. He'd give you everything... everything that he could.

Like a tidal wave, we'll make a mess Or calm waters, if that serves you best I will love you without any strings attached

You liked to repay him in little ways. Of course, you weren't required to do so, but you wanted to. It felt like a crime to not give back to the overwhelming love that he offers up to you.

That's why you found yourself in his kitchen at 10 in the evening, hunched over on the counter and eyeing the sorry excuse of a cake you just made.

He had recently won a practice match. It wasn't anything major, but you made it a point to celebrate every single achievement of his. However, it was the first time you attempted to bake something for him. You had envisioned for him to come home from practice and be greeted by a freshly baked chocolate cake.

But you messed it up. Somehow, it ended up both undercooked and overcooked. It was impressive in its own right.

You wanted to start over from scratch, but he was already on his way home. In fact, you were so absorbed in your failure that you missed the sound of the door opening and closing.

"Love? Where are you? I smell something burnt..."

He pokes his head into the kitchen and finds you slumped over with a brown lump on a plate in front of you. He walks over to you and rubs your back comfortingly.

"I wanted to make a cake, but... it looks like shit."

He laughs. "What for?"

Your sad eyes met his amused expression, arms instinctively wrapping around him. You were embarrassed by your subpar baking skills that you had to hide your face from him. "The practice match you won yesterday." His chest booms with laughter and he brings a hand to gently caress your hair. "It's alright, love. I appreciate the gesture." Peeling away from him, you couldn't help but look at the cake with disdain. "Yeah, but it's inedible."

Kaiser raises an eyebrow at you. He picks up the fork nearby and takes a piece of the cake. It was gooier than what you expected. "Hey! Don't eat it!" But it was too late, he had shoved the piece in his mouth and was already chewing. You watched in horror as he swallowed what might be undercooked batter.

"Tastes like cake to me." Your jaw drops. "You could've eaten the cooked part you know?" "Heh, where is the cooked part you speak of?" You pretended to be offended. There probably wasn't any perfectly cooked parts on this cake, but he didn't have to rub it in your face like that.

But you both laughed it off. You spent that night with him chatting over your poor chocolate cake. Kaiser was just happy that you went out of your way to do something for him. Truly, he didn't need anything in return. He loved you because... that's what he thinks he was made for.

The cake was shit, but for some reason it tasted so good when he ate it with you.

It's okay if you can't catch your breath You can take the oxygen straight Out of my own chest

As perfect as you deem your relationship to be, of course, there were misunderstandings here and there. They were usually fixed with a simple "sorry" and a warm hug.

But this time was different. It was a full blown fight. Perhaps both of you were tired and frustrated. Neither of you even noticed it had turned into a shouting match—not until Kaiser felt a familiar and haunting pang in his chest.

Images of his father crossed his mind. He was reminded of the hurtful things the old man hurled at him. Suddenly, he lost the will to fight back. It wasn't long before you noticed the shift in the atmosphere.

Silence enveloped the both of you as you stood apart from each other. You had never seen this expression on his face before. As much as he hated vulnerability, he croaked out words faster than he could realize.

"Please don't leave me."

It was soft enough that if it were any lower, you probably would have missed it. You were frozen in place. You were fighting, but it had never occurred to you the desire to leave him. Why would he say such a thing?

"Mihya?" You cautiously walked towards him and took his hands in yours. "I never thought about leaving you." He focused on the way your thumbs brushed over his knuckles. It was foreign to him—how he could be shouted at and comforted right after.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to think that way," you apologized.

Then... a tear rolled down his cheek. You swore your heart fell to your stomach. Kaiser had never cried in front of you before.

"Mihya? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I promise I'm not going to leave you..."

Your hands let go of his to hold on to his arms instead. "Please talk to me..."

He tried to hide his frown by lowering his head, but his sorrow was palpable. "You promise?"

"I swear on my life."

Your promise only served to coax more tears out of him. As much as he hated his current display of emotions—he couldn't avoid it. The warmth, the happiness, and the security you offer up to him was too much to bear.

He used to think he wasn't deserving of anything close to love, but here you were—proving him wrong time and time again. Maybe... just maybe... he did actually deserve it.

His dream of being loved could become true after all.

I know exactly how the rule goes: Put my mask on first No, I don't want to talk about myself Tell me where it hurts

After that particular fight, you became more observant of him. You felt stupid that you didn't notice his pain sooner. He was too good at concealing his true feelings that you were fooled into thinking that he was okay. But he really wasn't.

However, you knew better than to force it out of him. Slowly but surely, you tried to help him open up to you. But your efforts were futile. He'd always wave it off and smile at you. It was the same smile that had tricked you in the past.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"What about you, love? Have you been taking care of yourself?"

"Don't mind me. I'm strong, right?"

But Kaiser was a liar and you knew. He wasn't fine and he wasn't as strong as he made himself out to be. You both had your own pains, but you wanted both of you to overcome them together.

A frown crossed your face whenever he dismissed your worries, but you knew better than to force it out of him. All you could do is wipe the frown off your face and etch a small smile instead.

One day... one day he'll tell it all to you—when he isn't scared anymore.

I just want to build you up, build you up 'Til you're good as new And maybe one day I will get Around to fixing myself too

Kaiser thought he was suffocating. But wasn't he asleep? Ah... he was dreaming. There were times when he applauded his mind for being so excellently vivid at imagining the field. He was a master of metavision after all. But this cursed ability made his dreams feel all too real.

The hands that gripped his neck felt far too tangible, like there were fingers constricting his air flow. And those eyes... those eyes that detested him like he was nothing more than trash. The hatred was so conspicuous that it made him sweat in a fully airconditioned room.

After struggling for what seemed like forever, Kaiser snapped out of it. He sat up in bed and looked around. As expected, he was met with darkness; the faint light filtering through the window barely illuminated his bedroom. Frantically, he looked to the side and was pacified momentarily by the sight of you sleeping peacefully next to him.

You had rolled over to the farthest side of the bed, unaware of what was happening to him. Kaiser pulled his knees towards him, resting his elbows on the peaks and burying his face in his palms. He desperately wanted to calm down his racing heartbeat.

Why did he have to infiltrate his dreams? Didn't he torment him enough already? What did he do in his past life that made him deserve this kind of torture? Why?

Why?

Too caught up in his thoughts, Kaiser hadn't noticed the way you stirred in your sleep or how you had noticed that he was awake. Before he knew it, arms had snaked around his waist.

"Why are you still awake?"

You were still groggy, so perhaps you didn't notice the distress written all over his face. But you squeezed him tighter. Your instincts told you that he needed it. And he needed it badly.

"Come back to bed. I'll hold you."

He does what he was told. You slowly pulled him back into bed with you, never letting him go. You scoot closer to him as humanly possible. Kaiser didn't mind that you left no space between the two of you. If he was going to be suffocated, it might as well be by your embrace.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

He felt your breath fan against the warm skin of his neck. Your lips lightly brushed the sensitive skin as you spoke. He reached up to caress your arm, trying to reciprocate the affection you were giving him.

He only hummed in response, not wanting to elaborate further. You were sleepy as it is; there was no need for him to snap you out of your rest for his sake.

"I'll be fine... I have you with me." That's right, he thought. He had you. Everything would be fine if he had you.

Kaiser still had lingering feelings of pain inflicted by the violent hands and the hateful scrutiny of his father. But he hoped that one day you'd wash those feelings away. Kaiser hoped that your gentle touches and loving gaze would make him anew.

Somehow, maybe, you could fix the disaster that was Michael Kaiser.

I don't even know where to start Already tired of trying to recall When it all fell apart

He knew it was wrong to rely solely on you. Happiness came from loving oneself—they say. But it was impossible. Every time he let himself alone with his thoughts it would always make him spiral.

Kaiser watched from the marble counter as you swayed your hips to the funky music that played in the kitchen. You were cooking some fancy dish that he forgot the name of.

As you observed every movement you made, he slowly started to entertain the idea of finally opening up to you. But, as always, the same thoughts hindered him.

What if you look at him differently? What if it pushes you away? What if you realize that maybe his father was right?

It was unlikely, but not impossible—at least that's what his mind would say. But then he was reminded of your face. He could melt whenever he recalled the soft expression on your face as you told him you'd always be there for him.

So... maybe...

"Hey."

You turn around at his call. "What's up?"

He gulps. This is it. "Can we talk after dinner? I have something I want to tell you."

You almost dropped your spatula. "Is it bad? Because if it's bad I won't be able to eat a bite of what I made."

He chuckled. Typical you.

"Don't worry. I just want to tell you a story."

I just want to love you, to love you To love you well just want to learn how, somehow To be loved myself

You were never this engrossed in a story before. No words escaped your mouth. Instead, you nodded along with every word he spoke. You could tell that he was trying his utmost best to keep a neutral face, but your heart broke knowing how caged he must have felt.

He poured his heart out. Kaiser was still scared, that much was true. But he was a point of no return. You already knew much of it, so what was the point of hiding any of his remaining emotions?

He bared it all for you, not missing a detail. He wanted you—desperately wanted you—to understand what he struggled with. He figured that if you did, maybe he'd finally find peace in himself knowing that the person he loves still accepts him despite his faults.

I will love you without any strings attached And what a privilege it is to love A great honor to hold you up

When he exhausted himself of every tidbit of his life, he stared at you and your dumbfounded expression. You had so much to say to him, but at the same time, you didn't know what to say. You wanted to mutter anything—literally anything to at least let him know that you were listening.

"I love you, Mihya."

You blurted out the first thing that came to mind. But really, it was the only thing on your mind. Everything that you wanted to say—the comforting words, the advice—everything boiled down to those 4 words.

He was a troubled man, that much you knew. You weren't ignorant of his attitude when you weren't around. And you knew that he was always keeping some part of himself hidden even from you. Just like him, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders.

Kaiser finally trusted you enough with this. And now you understood why he was such a selfless lover. He valued you so much to the point that he thought you were the best thing he would ever have in his lifetime and he would be a massive idiot to let you go.

He did everything in his power to make you happy and to make you feel loved.

So, wouldn't it be right for you to do the same?

You smile and take his shaking hands in yours. A beautiful promise falls from your lips:

"And I will love you with every single thing I have."

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #michael kaiser #kaiser x reader #kaiser blue lock

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vivwritesfics · 1 year ago

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Mr All American

Just cute moments between Logan and his not American girlfriend

Godamn I want him so bad - in something non fanfic that I've written one of my main characters is called Logan and, ugh, it's such a pretty name

1.3K

Y/N held her phone up towards Logan, giggling away as she filmed him. "Can you do your best British accent?" She asked him, phone shaking in her hands as she giggled.

He rolled his eyes, but Logan was unable to hide his smile. "What do you want me to say?" He asked, looking down at her.

If it was possible for a person to have heart eyes, Logan would have. His heart would have been beating out of his chest like a cartoon character. "What do you want me to say?" He asked as he leaned against the wall.

"Fancy a cuppa."

"Fancy a cupper?" He said in his usual American accent.

Her giggles grew into full blown laughter.

Logan let out a huff and rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. "Alright love," he began in an incredibly bad British accent. "D'you fancy a cuppa?" He asked, emphasising the A.

It was hard to see Logans face in the video, not with the way Y/N was laughing uncontrollably. Her tiktok was a goldmine of Logan videos, where most of the fans got their content.

It was rare for a video of Y/N to go viral. Her videos of Logan always blew up, and she was always seen liking the compilations fans made of them. But she never got herself in the videos, that wasn't her style.

But then she logged onto tiktok. Her phone was silent as Logan slept behind her, his arms wrapped around her and his face pressed into his neck.

They didn't spent the entire night cuddled up. As much as Logan wanted to, it was near impossible. He fell asleep holding her, but when Y/N woke up in the middle of the night Logan was almost always no longer holding her. But then she woke up and once again Logan was holding her.

She had a theory. She suspected that Logan would wake up at, like, 5am, just to wrap his arms around her and spend the next the next few hours asleep and holding her.

So, Y/N had her phone on silent as she watched Tiktok. There were a few Logan edits, too many clips of Lando Norris streaming and at least thirteen Charles Leclerc edits.

And then Y/N came across another video. It was from the live sky sports feed that played during the last grand prix, focusing in on the Williams garage before the race.

Logan was there, walking to his engineer. And Y/N was in front of him. He had his arms around her, swaying her from side to side as he spoke. It was subconscious, he didn't even realise he was doing it, but it was so cute.

At least the fans thought so. Careless Whisper by George Michael played in the background of the video as Logan put his chin on the top of her head.

Groaning, Logan slowly woke up. He kissed the back of her neck and sat up slightly, tired eyes looking at the screen over her shoulder. "What're you watching?" He asked as Y/N saved the video.

She showed him. In response, Logan kissed her shoulder and tightened his grip on her.

***

This is a couple who loved to tease each other. It could be about anything, but their main targets were spelling and pronunciation.

Well, it depended what grand prix they were at. If Logan was caught spelling 'colour' as 'color' during the Silverstone weekend, Y/N wasn't going to let it go.

But the same went for her at any of the US grand prix.

When she landed for Miami, the first thing she did was text Logan. 'God, I didn't realise I was so tired,' she texted him as she climbed into the taxi.

'Couldn't hear you, what was that?' Logan responded.

'Lo'

'You didn't realize you were so tired?'

There was no response for a good minute. He could see that she had seen the message, but she didn't reply.

And then...

'I hate you'

'I wanna marry you'

When they got dinner that night, Y/N wanted a burger, something stereotypically American, but with no tomato.

Logan sat opposite her in the restaurant, hand covering his mouth, hiding his laugh as she ordered. "Can I get a burger with..." She looked at Logan, the enthusiasm dropping from her voice. "With no tomayto."

Logan couldn't hold himself back. his sniggers turned into full blown laughs as she gently kicked him under the table. "You're adorable," he said as she glared at him.

***

Oscar had known Y/N just as long as Logan had. He loved her like an annoying little sister that he pretended he couldn't stand but actually couldn't live without her.

He, Lando and Logan stood together, talking before the first practice session. Y/N hadn't arrived yet, set to arrive on Saturday, and Oscar missed her.

Not as much as Logan missed her, though.

He hadn't stopped talking to her, managed to slide a mention of her into every conversation.

Lando hadn't had the pleasure of meeting Y/N yet. "How did you guys get together?" He asked him, and Oscar sighed. He audibly sighed and rolled his eyes.

They'd been friends for years, since Y/N's karting days. But she'd quit to focus on studying, focusing on getting into a good university and landing her dream job.

When Logan was in F3 and Y/N was completing her first year of university, he missed her. Oscar missed her too, but not as much as Logan. So, during the summer, after her first year of university, he invited her to Florida.

It was maybe the most incredible summer of her life. Not because anything in particular happened, but because she was spending time with Logan.

Y/N knew he liked her. She knew she liked him too. But Logan wasn't going to do anything about it.

Actually, he tried. He tried to do these ridiculously subtle things that she was never going to pick up on. So, she took matters into her own hands.

They were in the back of the truck she had rented out for the summer. They'd done maybe everything, from go karting to carnivals. They were underage so they couldn't really experience spring break at its best.

In the back of the truck they looked up at the stars. "This has been sick," she muttered as she laid against him. "Properly, properly sick." (Genuinely can't imagine an american person using sick to be cool, pls correct me if wrong)

"I can't believe you have to go home tomorrow," Logan replied as he wrapped his arms around her.

Y/N snuggled closer to him. It was warm, but she didn't care. Music played from her stereo, and Logan hummed along.

"I'm gonna miss you," he said as Y/N sat up and stretched her arms up.

She faced him, crossing her legs and getting comfortable in her new position. "Are you gonna miss me? Or are you gonna miss me?"

Logan didn't answer, and that told her all she needed to know. "Dude, just ask me out already," she said, emphasising the 'dude'.

Again, Logan didn't answer. His cheeks were red as he looked away from her face, looking back at the stars.

So, Y/N leaned forward and kissed him.

Once Logan finished his story, Oscar shook his head. "You forgot the most important bit," he said and continued the story. "So Rick Astley started playing on the stereo, so Y/N pulled him up from the bed of the truck and made him dance with her. It's disgustingly cute."

Logan was a grinning, blushing mess. Oscar was right, it was disgustingly cute.

Fuck, he couldn't wait for Y/N to get there.

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x female reader #logan sargeant smut #logan sargeant x reader smut #logan sargeant x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #ls2 #ls2 imagine #ls2 x reader

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wolverigrl · 3 months ago

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Trying to have a romantic night at home with Hugh but the kids and then Ryan who rings him keep runing the mood

😉

Romance and Unicorn Plushies

Hugh Jackman x f!reader

A/N: Thank you for this idea, and I hope y'all like it! xx

Warnings: fluff

Enjoy!

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Tonight was supposed to be our night. Hugh had finally finished his work, the kids were tucked in, and we were going to have that long-overdue, romantic evening we'd been craving for weeks.

I could already picture it - just the two of us, no interruptions, candlelight, soft music, and then maybe... well, more.

He was in the kitchen finishing up Dinner, and I couldn't take my eyes off him. The way he moved, so effortlessly casual, like he wasn't even aware of how ridiculously attractive he was.

His forearms flexed as he stirred the sauce, and I found my mind drifting to much less innocent thoughts.

"Careful." Hugh teased without even turning around, his voice a low mumble.

"If you keep looking at me ike that, dinner's going to end up burned."

I leaned back against the counter, niting my lip as I gave him a slow once-over.

"Maybe I like my food with a bit of heat."

He turned then, giving me thas boyish grin that always made my heart race.

"Is that so?" He walked over, eyes never leaving mine as he placed his hands on either side of me, caging me in against the counter.

"I can think of a few ways to turn up the heat."

His breath was warm against my neck, sending a shiver down my spine as he leaned in, just close enough for his lips to brush against my ear. The nearness of him, the smell of him, was making it hard to focus on anything other than how padly I wanted him to close the small gap between us.

"Like what?" I asked, my voice teasing as I tilted my head, giving him more access.

"Mmm.." he murmured, his lips grazing my skin in the softest, most frustrating way.

"I could show you.. but it's much more fun if I make you beg for it."

I let out a soft laugh, running a hand up his arm, feeling the muscles flex beneath my touch.

"Hugh Michael Jackman.. do you really think I'm going to beg?"

He smirked, that slow, dangerous smile that set my pulse racing.

"Oh, love, I know you will."

Before I could come up with a witty response, his lips captured mine, slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world to drive me insane. His hands slid around my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies were pressed flush against each other. The heat between us was immediate, electric, and I was suddenly not hungry for anything other than him.

He pulled back just slightly, his lips still hovering over mine, teasing me with every breath.

"Pasta's almost ready.."

I groaned, tugging him back toward me.

"I don't care about pasta!"

His laughter rumbled through his chest as he kissed me again, deeper this time, his hands slipping beneath my shirt to trace lazy patterns on my skin. I could feel every inch of him, the tension building between us like a coiled spring ready to snap.

"Are you sure?" he murmured against my lips. "I've been slaving over a hot stove for you."

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me as I pulled him even closer, our bodies flush.

"If you think pasta's more important than this right now, I'm gonna start questioning your priorities!"

"Fair point." he whispered with a grin and his hands wandering lower.

"But you haven't even tried it yet."

His lips trailed down my neck, and tilted my head back, completely giving in to the sensations he was pulling out of me. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how to get me to the point where I couldn't think about anything but him. And he was enjoying every second of it.

Just as his hands slipped a little lower, the sound of giggling echoed from upstairs.

We both froze.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Hugh groaned, dropping his head to my shoulder.

"They swore they were going to sleep." I said, exasperated.

But the laughter continued, and there was no use pretending they'd settle down on their own.

Hugh reluctantly let go of me and straightening up.

"I'Il go check on them."

"I'll come with you." I said with a sigh, and we both headed upstairs.

Sure enough, Ava and Oscar were wide awake, tangled up in sheets and pillows, whispering about something and clearly not planning to sleep anytime soon.

"Guys, come on.." Hugh said, rubbing is forehead.

"You promised you'd be asleep by now."

"Sorry, Dad.." Ava said, looking guilty but still too amused to be fully remorseful.

Oscar just grinned, as if this was all part of his master plan.

"We couldn't sleep."

I couldn't help but smile despite myself.

They were adorable, but right now, I wanted nothing more than to be back downstairs with Hugh, picking up where we'd left off.

"Alright.." Hugh sighed, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.

"But seriously, you need to go to bed. It's late."

"Can we have one more story? Pleeeease!" Ava asked, pulling out the big, puppy-dog eyes and Hugh, of course, melted immediately.

"One more." he agreed smiling. "But that's it! Then you sleep!"

I gave him a look, raising an eyebrow. He just shrugged sheepishly.

He managed to get them settled after one more short story, and by he time we made it back downstairs, I was ready to pick up exactly where we'd left off. Hugh, as if reading my mind, grabbed my hand, pulling me back into his arm: with that same fiery look in his eyes.

"Where were we?" he asked, his voice a low, seductive murmur. His iands slipped down my back, and I shivered under his touch.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in closer.

"I think you were about to make me forget my own name."

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against my neck.

"You make it very hard to keep track of time."

His lips brushed mine, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent. His hands slid under my shirt, fingertips grazing the skin of my waist, sending shivers through me. I pressed against him, feeling the solid warmth of his body, every muscle taut with restrained desire.

"Bedroom?" I breathed between kisses.

"Good idea." he muttered, lifting me slightly as we stumbled toward the stairs again without our lips parting.

Just as we reached the foot of the stairs, the doorbell rang.

We both stopped, frozen in place.

Hugh groaned loudly, resting his forehead against mine.

"This is some sort of cosmic joke!"

I couldn't help but laugh, even though I was equally annoyed.

"You should probably get that."

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated, but headed to the door. I leaned against the banister, trying to catch my breath and calm the frustration that was building as well.

We were so close.

Hugh opened the door, and there, standing in the doorway, was none other than Ryan.

"Ryan?" Hugh asked, exasperation clear in his voice. "It's almost ten o'clock at night!"

"Hey, mate!" Ryan grinned, strolling into the house like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I just remembered my daughter left her unicorn plushy at your place."

Hugh blinked, still confused. "And you remembered that now?"

Ryan nodded solemnly.

"Yeah, she can't sleep without it, so I couldn't wait till morning."

Suddenly he leaned in, whispering just loud enough for us to hear.

"She has superhuman ears for the sound of her teddy bear being touched by anyone but her!"

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me, and when Hugh glanced back at me with amusement, I shrugged.

"Unicorn plushies are serious business!"

"Yeah, see! She gets it!" Ryan said, smiling brightly. "You're the real MVP here!"

Hugh stepped aside, letting Ryan in with a sigh. "It should be somewhere in the living room. Try to be quiet. The kids just went to sleep."

As Ryan tiptoed through the house with exaggerated care, I couldn't stop giggling.

Hugh's frustration was palpable, but there was something so absurd about the situation, it was impossible to stay mad. Ryan, of course, found the plushy within minutes, triumphantly holding it up as though he had found some priceless artifact.

"I found it!" he whispered, glancing around dramatically, as if afraid the sound of his voice alone might wake the kids.

"Great. Now, out." Hugh said, trying to hide a grin, but failing miserably. He leaned against the doorframe crossing his arms in a way that would've looked intimidating to anyone who wasn't Ryan Reynolds.

"Leaving, leaving!" Ryan said, mock-saluting. "Sorry for the intrusion. Looks like you two were busy."

Hugh groaned playfully as Ryan winked at me before strolling out the door, whistling to himself like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Hugh closed the door behind him and turned to me, his face a mix of exhaustion and amusement.

"Why do I put up with him?"

"Because he's your best friend!" I teased, still laughing.

Hugh sighed, running a hand through his hair before walking back over to me, pulling me back into his arms.

"Now, if there are no more interruptions.

Where were we?" I asked, letting my hands wander across his chest feeling the tension still simmering between us.

"I think I was about to make you beg." he murmured, his voice low and teasing, lips brushing against mine.

"And what makes you think I'm going to beg?" I challenged, wrapping my arms around his neck.

His smile widened, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Oh, love, I'll have you begging before the night's over."

---------------------------------------------------

Tags: @angelofthorr @haytchee

#hugh jackman #wolverine #hugh jackman x you #marvel #x men #hugh #jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman imagines #fluff

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kjupchurch-xx · 5 months ago

Text

Oh, Baby!

This chapter contains a tiny bit of SMUT.

Hugh and I were expecting our first child, not something he'd planned at the age of 40 or me at the age of 26, but one thing led to another and we ended up finding out we were expecting. Though, that's the kind of thing that happens when you aren't exactly careful, if you know what I mean. Of course you do. Besides that, things were well, we'd just celebrated our second year of marriage, our third year together and he was just nominated People's Sexiest Man Alive.

Flashback to the night of conception:

I laid beneath him as he gazed down into my eyes, his tan skin glistening in the dimly lit room. His thrusts slow, steady and full of passion. With one hand, he was cupping my cheek as my soft moans filled our bedroom. His other hand keeping him atop of me without bearing too much of his weight on me. I could see his facial expressions through the dim lighting, he was letting out soft moans while continuing to make love to me. I could tell he was getting close by the expression on his face.

As he leaned down to kiss me softly, he mumbled against my lips, "I love you, gorgeous." as his thrusts continued. As I reached my orgasm, he climaxed with me, not pulling out as he pressed his forehead against mine, continuing to kiss me with so much emotion, so much love. He collapsed alongside me, pulling me into his embrace, pressing another kiss on my forehead as we slowly drifted off to sleep.

Present Day:

Hugh and I did not know the gender. After suffering a miscarriage last year, we didn't care about a gender, we cared about a healthy baby. However, we did have our names picked out. If Baby Jackman were a girl, her name would be Paisley Grace Jackman, if Baby Jackman were a boy, his name would be Christopher Michael Jackman, which was a nod to Hugh's father, Chris and Michael since it was Hugh's middle name. Grace came from Hugh's rekindled relationship with his mother, Grace.

I was 38 weeks pregnant and my baby bump has already made me double in size. Whenever Hugh wasn't filming, he'd sing, read or even talk to the bump. The baby always kicked at the sound of Hugh's voice, regardless of what he was doing. Hugh was ecstatic to be a father, he even cried when he found out we would be having a child. I spent most of the time wondering what our precious gift would look like, if they'd take Hugh's Australian accent or take on more of my Southern accent.

"Here Beautiful, I made you a brekkie. Pancakes don't cause your morning sickness anymore, right?" He asked with a soft gentle voice, bringing me a plate of the pancakes he'd made from scratch.

I smiled, "No, pancakes are fine now. I've been craving pancakes. Thank you, love." I said, grabbing the plate, devouring the food he'd brought me as he sat beside me.

He started caressing my upper thigh, "How're you feeling today, love?"

I yawned, "I'm okay today, but I've really got to pee. I'm so fat now, I can hardly waddle at this point." I snickered while struggling to get up.

He quickly stood up, taking both of my hands in his, helping me to my feet. "You're not fat, stop that. You're beautiful and you can tell by how much sex we have that I'm still very much attracted to you, bump and all." He chuckled.

I playfully rolled my eyes, heading in the direction of our bathroom to pee for the 50th time that morning. As I stepped into the doorway, I had this immediate urge and quickly realized I did not have to pee. In fact, my water had broken. All over the floor and all over the clothes I had on. The doctor had previously told us once I hit 38 weeks that Baby Jackman could come at any time, so knowing this, we'd planned ahead and had a bag packed just in case. Thank god.

I yelled for Hugh as I waddled my way into the bedroom to quickly change pants. He came rushing into our bedroom, "Are you okay? What happened?" He asked, his voice dripping with concern as he stepped close towards me.

"I um, my water... My water broke. It's happening." I stammered, a panicked look spread across my face. He quickly grabbed the bag we'd packed in one hand, and used his other to carefully usher me to the car outside. He threw the bag in the backseat before carefully helping me into the front seat, leaning down pulling my seatbelt across me. I could feel the contractions beginning at this point. The sharp waves of pain leaving me quivering, eager to get to the hospital to get relief.

He held my hand as he drove us towards the nearest hospital, bringing my hand up to his lips, letting them brush lightly across my knuckles, "We're about to see our baby. I can't wait." He spoke softly.

I wrapped my arm around my stomach as I felt another wave of pain getting ready to rush through my abdomen, "Holy shit, this is fucking painful." I winced.

He caressed my arm, "I know love, it'll be over soon. We're almost there, just hang on."

As we arrived at the hospital, he helped me out of the car, grabbing the bag and slinging it over his shoulder, using his other arm to steady me as my contractions grew stronger. Once he got me inside and I was rushed back by medical staff, he ran out to park the car before coming back up to the room I was being wheeled to, in a wheelchair. Upon arriving to room 232, I was helped out of my clothes and into a hospital gown. The nurses came in with friendly, welcoming personalities and smile plastered their faces to get me prepped and check my dilation before allowing me to have my privacy.

I could feel the tears coming. I was now alone in the room, I was about to push my first kid out, I'm in pain. I'm terrified. I know he's just parking the car, but I'm petrified.

The door to my room swung open and in ran a panicked Hugh as he noticed the tears spilling down my cheeks. "Baby girl, are you okay? Is the baby okay?" He asked frantically, grabbing my face gently.

I nodded, "I'm scared." I swallowed the hard lump that felt stuck in my throat.

He began caressing my face, pressing a soft kiss on my forehead, "It's okay, my love. I'm here. There's nothing to be afraid of. Soon, we'll be holding the baby. Our baby." He said reassuringly as he wiped his fingers over the tears streaming my face.

I grimaced as that now familiar wave of contraction pain made its way through my insides. The feeling was getting more painful with each wave that hit.

Hours had went by. My dilation slowly, but surely getting closer. The discomfort and pain I felt has me second guessing if getting pregnant was the right choice. I just wanted the pain to stop. As a nurse walked in, Hugh stood up, standing beside me, holding my hand tightly.

"Mrs. Jackman, it's time to check your dilation. Hopefully we're at the point we can begin pushing." The nurse, who'd introduced herself as Nurse Jackie informed us as she moved the blanket, leaving me exposed to check my dilation. "I'm calling your obstetrician to come down. We'll be ready to begin pushing once he gets here, Mrs. Jackman." She said, removing her rubber gloves and discarding them, washing her hands then walking out of the room.

I looked over at Hugh, running my fingers down my pregnant belly. "I don't think I can do this..." I expressed, my voice laced with fear and doubt. "This pain is fucking unbearable." I shouted while clenching my fists as my body stiffened from another contraction.

He ran his fingers through my hair, "You've got this, love. It'll be all over soon. I promise."

I nodded at his words, slowly closing my eyes waiting for the obstetrician to enter the room. I'd already been given an epidural, but surprisingly, it didn't seem to numb the pain much. Neither did anything else the nurses offered me. About 3 minutes later, the obstetrician entered the room and I immediately felt as if I were going to be sick.

He walked over to me, "Alright Mrs. Jackman, you'll slip your feet in these stirrups here on the bed and we'll start pushing."

I nodded as he guided my feet into the stirrups and got into position to help me deliver my baby. I quickly looked at Hugh, who was standing beside me, at my head with a tight grip on my hand.

Dr. Whitin looked at me, "On the count of 3, I want you to push for me, okay?" He instructed me.

I nodded, closing my eyes as he began to count. Once he hit 3, I pushed hard, praying for relief. Praying for this pain to subside. He did another three count and a nod for me to push again. Still nothing.

After the third attempt at pushing, I looked at Hugh, completely out of breath, tears pouring down my face, "I can't do this. It hurts too bad."

He quickly grabbed both of my cheeks, looking me in the eyes, "You can do this, baby. You can do this. Just keep going."

I exhaled sharply as Dr. Whitin did another 3 count for me to push. I pushed, but nothing was happening. I felt myself slipping into a panic attack as the pain was at an all time high and nothing seemed to be working. Hugh continued running his fingers through my hair, his other hand holding mine. I'm sure I'd damn near been his hand during pushes.

"If the next push doesn't get the baby, we'll need to take you for an emergency c-section. Listen to me, I need you to push as hard as you can. I know it hurts, but we have to do this as quickly as possible, alright?" Dr. Whitin said, sounding a bit concerned.

He held his hand up and began another three count, "Push!" I heard him, the nurses and Hugh yell. I pushed as hard as my body would possibly let me, screaming at the top of my lungs.

I felt light headed. I didn't know if I were going to vomit or pass out at this point. I hear cries filling the room, but I'm too exhausted to move or try to look. Hugh looks at me with tears pooling in his eyes, as he leaned down kissing my head.

"Looks like it's a little girl!" Dr. Whitin exclaimed, holding the baby up and allowing Hugh to cut the cord before the nurses rushed our baby girl to be cleaned up.

"You did it, mama. She's here." Hugh cried, seeing the sight of his beautiful little girl.

Before I could react, Nurse Jackie came and laid her on my chest. "Look at that beautiful baby. She has a head full of hair!"

I wrapped my arms around the baby that was swaddled in a blanket and looked down at her. She had a head full of dark brown hair. She was the perfect mix of Hugh and I. Perfect in every way. I heard him sniffle beside me, looking down at her.

"She's perfect." He cooed, "Hi Paisley, it's your daddy." His smile was the biggest I'd ever seen it.

I looked up to him, "Hold her." I said, passing her towards him. As he grabbed her from me, his eyes had a glimmer in them that I'd never seen before. Not even from his films.

He peered down at the small 5lb newborn in his arms, smiling down at her. "She's so perfect." He looked back up at me, "Thank you." He said softly.

I cocked my head to the side, "For what?" I asked, furrowing my brows.

He sniffled, looking down at Paisley, "For her. She's everything I imagined she would be." He said softly as she looked up at him cooeing.

I closed my eyes, resting my back against the pillow. Paisley was perfect. He was the perfect husband, who I'd always known would be the perfect father. I'd fallen into a peaceful slumber overhearing him singing to our daughter as he cradled her.

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persephone1700 · 6 months ago

Text

Please me- Michael Gavey x Reader

Hello! I've been obsessed with all the smut stories I've been reading on this app about several characters… so I've written something I thought of.

Please be kind since English is not my first language and it's the first thing +18 I've ever written ( I kinda took advantage that I was ovulating to imagine the most dirty scenarios and write them hehe)

I plan to divide them in three parts.

I hope you like it.

Warning Tags: 18+ ONLY. Smut, Oral Sex (Reader receiving), Embarrasing himself.

Part 2

It was a Friday evening, and the campus was almost empty. Half the students were either at local pubs, attending parties, or had gone home for the weekend.

Almost everyone, except for Michael. He had stayed behind without any plans, as usual. As a "Norman no-mates" kind of student, he found himself without an invitation to any parties.

He decided the best use of his time was to begin working on the final list of problems he had due in a month.

He didn’t want to be with those wankers anyway.

He had no need to study or even try—math was just so obvious and simple. Yet, he made his way to the library, trying to escape his pristine bedroom for a while.

When he walked into the library, he didn’t expect to see you there, sitting at a table with your bare legs crossed, leaning into the table, focused on a paper you were working on.

Everybody at school seemed to gravitate towards you and your group of friends, thanks to Felix Catton.

Michael couldn’t begin to understand what was so interesting about that damn bloke.

Even his best mate and only friend, Oliver, had found himself enjoying the company of Felix and his superficial group of friends rather than his.

How can anyone be friends with someone who doesn’t even have an ounce of gray matter?

They must all be idiots.

Every one of them. Including you.

He had decided that the first time he met you during tutorial sessions with Professor Ware. He didn't even understand how you ended up paired with him for tutoring—your majors clearly displayed you were opposites, and he liked to think he was the smartest one.

On top of that, he believed people were a mere reflection of the friends they surrounded themselves with. So, what does it say about you if you are friends with the most superficial twat on campus?

No matter how pretty he thought you were, with those plump lips, big eyes and soft curves… You still were a vapid cunt.

...Or were you?

Michael Gavey wouldn't call himself your friend, but unlike everyone else, you never dismissed his presence. You were always quick to challenge his aggressive comments in the classes you shared, often proving him wrong.

Your friends, of course, found it amusing, but you never laughed. He considered you the smartest among them—not as smart as him, of course, but not sharing the same brain cell as your mates.

Sometimes, during lectures or in the halls, he caught himself watching you. Dressed in expensive clothes, you navigated the halls with an air of confidence.

He found your outfits too revealing, almost inappropriate for lectures, yet he was secretly grateful for the glimpse they offered him of your long legs and cleavage.

You were too pretty and nearly as smart as him. And you knew it, which only made things worse.

You seemed to be every guy's dream.

Every guy, including him.

Damn it.

"Michael? What are you doing here?" you asked, noticing him standing frozen in front of you, staring and holding some books.

"Uh… I'm here to finish some homework," he answered bluntly, attempting to head to a corner table.

"Sit with me. There's no one else in here, you know. You may as well just sit here, and we can keep each other company," you said, stopping him in his tracks. He hesitated, then made his way over and sat beside you, almost uncomfortably.

Opening his books, he tried to focus on the problems in front of him, his palms sweating as he feared you might notice the effect you had on him.

"Why aren't you at the party?" you asked, jotting down some notes on your paper, trying to make conversation and lighten the mood.

"Not fucking invited," he said simply, watching as the realization dawned on your face. You both sat there alone at the library, and continued working on your paper in silence.

"Why aren't you glued to your friends? How does studying alone work for your social life?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Just wanted some alone time. Needed to catch up on the activities, and I was getting bored with them. Plus, it gives me a break from Felix, so I don't murder him when he's a pain in the ass."

"He's been acting like an arse lately, hasn't he?" Michael commented as he picked up another math textbook, flipping through the pages. He wasn't sure if it was true; to him, Felix may have been an arse since he was born, certainly.

"Not more than usual—shagging some girls, getting drunk, and partying. The usual," you said, shrugging as if it were normal.

"And you don't seem to mind his stupid behavior?"

"Why would I?"

"I… I thought you were a thing. I heard a rumor you two were together…" He said, almost embarrassed to admit he paid attention to gossip and social life.

"What?" you snorted at his admission.

"Yes. I'd suppose anyone with a brain would be jealous if their boyfriend was sleeping around with other girls," he said, tightening his grip on his pencil and trying to sound nonchalant.

"Definitely not. We just enjoyed some benefits in the past," you dismissed his comment casually. "We've known each other since childhood; we're not a couple. Sex is a necessity, wouldn't you agree?"

"Uh… I…" Michael was stunned, to say the least. "I…" He tried to speak, to form a response, but he was too flustered and speechless.

"Oh my God," you turned towards him, looking surprised. "Michael, are you a virgin?" you asked in a low voice.

Michael's eyes widened at your words, a red blush instantly appearing on his face. He looked away, trying to avoid your gaze. He couldn’t even deny it.

How could he when it was so painfully obvious?

"N-No!" he lied, trying to keep his cool but failing miserably.

"Have you ever seen a woman naked, Michael?" you asked, smiling with a glint in your eyes at the discovery.

Michael wished he could die at that moment. The embarrassment he felt was so intense that just when he thought he couldn’t blush more, he grew even redder.

"Yes, of course I have!" he responded defensively, too fast as if trying to convince himself. Who was he kidding? He let out a huff and muttered, "No, I haven’t, okay?"

"Why not?"

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, there’s not exactly a line of women trying to get with me, obviously" he scoffed.

"I think you’re cute," you said, smiling at him. He obviously thought you were lying. "So… uh, what exactly do you do to relieve any urges?"

How else?!?

He let out a loud groan at that question, covering his face. He did not want to be having this conversation, yet here you were, asking him the most embarrassing questions.

He leaned back in his chair, avoiding your gaze, and couldn’t believe he was admitting this to you.

"I… have a few magazines and videos…" he mumbled, his face still red. "And I… use them, obviously."

"So… you take care of yourself then. It's perfectly normal and healthy." You smiled, noticing his red cheeks. "Nothing to be embarrassed about. I do it all the time when I'm stressed."

Of course, you knew how he took care of himself; you were not stupid. You had a feeling he was a virgin and a prude, and you just wanted to hear him admit it.

You had taken some interest in Michael since the beginning of the term. At first, he was just a lonely student who was too eager to prove himself better than anyone in classes, commenting on how useless non-math topics were.

It was when Farleigh told you how much Michael stared at you in classes and made fun of him, claiming that he had a silly crush on you, that you started to notice him more.

The way his sandy blonde hair framed his face, the big blue eyes behind the framed glasses, his thin lips always pouting unconsciously as he disregarded everyone else.

You were now too interested in him, and you started to wonder what it would be like to be with him and teach him. To make him eat all his words… and satisfy your curiosity.

"What’s it like…?" he asked suddenly, his voice slightly above a whisper, looking over at you.

"What?" you smiled at him. Michael’s cheeks turned a shade redder, and he cursed himself inwardly for even asking that question. Yet he was too far gone now, his curiosity having taken over.

"Touching a woman…" he mumbled, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Maybe you'll just have to find out for yourself," you shrugged.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" he turned towards you. "You asked me all these weird questions and now you can't answer mine?"

You were slightly taken back by his outburst, noticing the way his cheeks were red out of embarrassment and fury.

"What do you even ask them for? To make fun of me with those suckers?" he snarled.

"No. I asked because if you want to, maybe I can teach you," you said simply, staring into his eyes.

"How?" was all that came out of Michael's mouth as you stood up and quickly gathered your things.

"Come on, follow me." He watched as you walked over to a private study room at the end of the hallway, one of those reserved for group studies. It had a large meeting table and boards.

Understanding, he grabbed his things in a hurry and followed you to the room. He entered, locking the door behind him and glancing at where you were standing, at the center of the room, sitting at the edge of the table.

He walked over to you, trapping you against the table. He stood there for a moment, watching you, not knowing what to do next. So, you moved closer to him, taking him by surprise when your lips pressed against his in a slow kiss.

He closed his eyes, breathing in your scent, his lips kissing yours desperately. He felt it when you took his hand and carefully led it to your breast.

With your hand upon his, you gave it a squeeze and parted the kiss, watching his bewildered expression, the tint of red in his cheeks growing darker.

"Maybe you can finally explore the body of a woman," you whispered. He was too stunned for a moment, as if he was daydreaming, but then you looked into his eyes and nodded.

His gaze grew darker, and he carelessly pushed down your shirt, watching your breasts peek out.

His breath hitched, and you could see how his pupils dilated at the sight of them. His hands slid through your tits as he stared down at them with amusement.

Between his thumb and index, he reached for your nipple and noticed the way you let out a sigh out of pleasure, your nipples growing hard at his touch.

He bent down and started kissing and sucking your neck, leaving small bites here and there, where he thought people would be able to see them.

His tongue started lowering and lowering until he reached where his hands were formerly placed, and his lips started sucking on your nipple, with a free hand he cupped your other breast, moving his fingers in irregular circles.

He focused his gaze on you, and noticed the way a moan escaped your lips.

You were desperate for his touch; he could see it.

He could feel his heart throttling, as his mouth explored every inch of your breasts, the movement of his lips and tongue was a mix between inexperience and pure desire. Your fingers moved to his hair, encouraging him to continue.

"Michael…" - his name escaped your lips in a low voice. - "that feels good, do you want to keep going? "

He nodded desperately, eager to continue exploring the fullness of your body. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Without a word, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was urgent, his trembling hands sliding through the side of your legs until he gripped your ass.

When his fingers brushed the hem of your skirt, you felt a surge of anticipation.

Slowly, almost reverently, he began sliding your skirt upwards, exposing more of your thighs.

He leaned back to admire the view, your breasts on full display, your red cheeks, and the way the fabric of the skirt gathered up your hips.

His hands started exploring the flesh of your inner thighs, tracing circles in his path as his fingers ventured closer to your core, a soft moan escaping your lips as you tilted your head back.

Michael's eyes darkened with desire at the sound, and his hands stilled for a moment, savoring your reaction.

He knelt in front of you, and he watched with amusement the way his fingers traced a path at the edge of your panties, the fabric acting as a barrier between his touch and your core.

He ran a finger through the fabric and felt how wet it was, before he moved it aside and a moan escaped his lips at the sight of your pussy. His gaze met your eyes, almost shily with a question written on them of whether he could go further.

When you nodded, his fingers started touching you, moving his finger up and down slowly, trying to find the place that would give you more pleasure, when his finger met your clit, he noticed the way your body shivered and he focused his attention there.

He started moving his fingers slowly against your bud, and the quiet moans he heard and the way your breath hitched, made him think he was doing a good job, so he started to move his fingers faster, in a painful way.

A whimper left your mouth, and your hand grabbed his, stopping him.

"No. Not fast or it hurts. " - you said between breaths, when he nodded in understanding, you guided his fingers once again against your clit.

Guiding him through the right pace which makes your skin grow hotter.

His fingers started moving with more confidence, finding rhythms and patterns that made you moan.

His name erupted from your chest in a cry of pleasure, and suddenly his touch was not enough, with a hand placed against the table you leaned forward and watched the way his gaze was focused on your core.

His fingers were not enough, you needed more.

You needed him pressed against you, so with your other hand you grabbed his hair and pulled him closer to your pussy, a groan reverberated in your skin, and his lips started sucking on it.

His erection was hard since he entered the room, and as he watched you moaning and pulled him closer it grew painfully hard, the boxers restraining him and making his cock start to twitch.

He thought it would be more painful the embarrassment he would feel if he came on his boxers at the simple sight of her moaning while he ate her up, so he tried to focus solely on her.

He failed...

You started breathing heavily at the way his fingers slither inside you and his tongue moved against your pearl.

Fueled with pleasure your back arched, and your fingers tightened their grip on his hair, pulling him closer. His touch was electric, and your eyes opened, locking your gaze with him... hen he lost it.

His cock started throbbing against his boxers, seizing as he came undone at the sight of you.

#ewan mitchell #ewan nation #michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #saltburn #saltburn posting #felix catton

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peachhcs · 7 months ago

Note

Hiii!!

I was wondering if you could write something for samy and will based on this article: https://www.nhl.com/canadiens/news/my-man-mireille-boutin-on-michael-pezzetta?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=post&utm_campaign=CHCcontent&utm_content=EN-0514-MyMan

Basically the nhl team’s media people asking the players’ significant other questions about them. Thanks so much :))

my girl: will smith on samy hughes

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

nhl elite prospects interviews will about samy & their relationship!

1k words

this was suppperr cute to write. i swear will’s a yapper when it comes to talking about samy. i switched it from the article so it was will talking about samy, hope u don’t mind, but i loved this request!!

au masterlist

"we've been best friends since we were kids. everything just makes more sense when i'm around her."

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN �� samy hughes is known for her tough offense on the soccer field.

but off the field, she's the "best person i've ever known," according to her boyfriend, will smith, a boston college forward.

while in san jose for a development camp, the nhl elite prospects were able to catch up with smith to ask him how he's been doing, including how his new relationship's been treating him.

TELL US ABOUT YOUR DYNAMIC GROWING UP.

it's funny because we never hung out by ourselves a lot when we were kids. i was pretty attached to her older brothers [quinn, jack, and luke] and she was attached to my sister [grace smith], so we never really hung out that much until we were older. although, we always got along. when we did hang out we enjoyed talking to one another and poking fun as if we were siblings. we really didn't get closer until i moved up to plymouth for the usntdp.

WHAT CHANGED YOUR RELATIONSHIP FROM FAMILIAL TO ROMANTIC?

at least for me, as i got older, my feelings started changing towards her. i started seeing her as an annoying sister less and less and the more we hung out when i was in michigan, the more attached i grew i guess. we started just..doing stupid stuff together and i just really liked hanging out with her. all the times where i thought the things we did together was just a sibling dynamic, i slowly realized it was a lot more than that.

WHAT DID YOU GUYS DO ON YOUR FIRST DATE?

i took her out to dinner in ann arbor and then we walked around for a bit before sitting on a bench and just talking for hours. it was definitely weird at first, but we eased into one another and it was fun getting to know her on a different level than what i've always known her as.

WHAT ATTRACTED YOU MOST TO HER?

her personality for sure. she's super outgoing, always knows what she wants, very independent, super caring. we're very similar in many aspects, hence why we're best friends. she looks up to her brothers a lot which i admire because i also look up to them. i also enjoy her extensive knowledge of hockey because of her family, so it's easy talking about the game with her. she's just always been someone i go to when i need a shoulder to lean on and it's just so easy with her, you know? i love getting to call her so we can talk about our days together.

OF COURSE, HOCKEY'S IN SAMY'S ROOTS. DO YOU GET HER ON THE ICE WITH YOU EVER?

oh yeah, 100%. whenever we're back at michigan or in boston, we're on the ice. she's the one dragging me outside sometimes so we can play 1v1 or something. she's always had that love for hockey even if she doesn't play competitively anymore. i also love seeing her out there because it's what bonded us when we were kids, so it's nice still getting to go out and do it with her. somehow she still beats me too. she doesn't play for 4 months and then we're back on the ice together she scores 3 goals before i can even get the puck in my possession. the guys chirp at me whenever that happens if they're around.

HOW OFTEN DO YOU WATCH HER SOCCER GAMES?

every single one of them are on my computer. it doesn't matter what i'm doing. as soon as the live stream starts, i'm booting it up to watch. the guys love watching her play, so i always get to turn it on the tv and then we scream at the stream for two hours together.

SPEAKING OF THE GUYS, WE HEARD SHE HAS A GREAT RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR LINEMATES AS WELL.

leno and perreault absolutely adore her which i think is really sweet. i was a little worried when i first introduced all of them back when we moved to mich, but the three of them grew close really quickly. sometimes i think they're more excited to see her than i am and that's saying a lot.

WE HEARD HUGHES IS A GREAT COOK. HAS SHE COOKED ANYTHING FOR YOU?

when we're at the lake house she loves cooking all of us breakfast. she makes a great omelette and french toast, like, the best i've ever had. we all go crazy for her breakfast in the mornings.

DO YOU GUYS EVER TRAIN TOGETHER DURING THE SUMMER LIKE RUNNING OR WORKING OUT?

i'm not a huge runner, but sometimes i will run with her when she goes out, or i'd bike along side her. our training schedules are pretty different, but when we're in the offseason we'd occasionally hit the gym together or do some casual workouts that won't kill us. she knows what the hockey training is like so it's no stranger to her when she does follow my lead. soccer, on the other hand, is a lot more sprints and footwork which is sometimes helpful for me.

CAN YOU TELL US ABOUT SOME OF SAMY'S BEST QUALITIES?

shes a huge team player. she's always looking out for those girls on her soccer team, helping them run drills, being someone to talk to—i really admire her for that. she's got a real big heart too. her love is so contagious. she's dependable, trustworthy, kind, beautiful—the list could go on coming from me.

ANY LAST WORDS YOU WANT US TO ADD?

i love her, haha. our parents knew way before us that we would end up together before we even knew. we've been best friends since we were kids. everything just makes more sense when i'm around her. this is probably corny, but i wanna spend the rest of my life with her. she's my rock.

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bigassmoonchild · 1 year ago

Text

Feral

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

The first three parts give context, but aren't required for this read.

Summary: You had your problems with your squad, no different than anyone else running their first. One Alpha, Michael, gave you the most problems, dragging you from leave to punish them all. It didn't take long for him to become your biggest problem, or for Simon to try and take care of him.

Content Tags: Shouting (not w/ between Ghost & Reader), A lot of Anger, Fluff, Protective Ghost, Violence, Fighting, Ghost shows his Face, Non-Sexual Punishments, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No use of Y/N

A/N: I woke up this morning with over 100 notifications from tumblr, and I've spent all morning trying to think of another part for Maple Syrup. As always, content is under the cut and my asks are wide open <3.

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

Ghost could watch you forever. Seeing how you flit around the soldiers, taking care of each of them, barking orders at your own little squad. After being removed from missions, you were able to convince whoever would listen to give you a squad to train, a group of hopeful combat medics.

Sometimes he would find himself watching what you were doing, and he would inch himself close enough to hear what you'd be telling them. Sometimes, it was nothing short of you screaming at them, other times it might be explaining how to stitch someone up. Most times, you sat back and watched as they worked through the exercise that you had created for them.

You were still off on leave, leaving your squad under the hands of Soap and Gaz to train them further on combat situations. Ghost had spoken with them a few times, listening to them rant about the soldiers you had to deal with. Especially one Alpha, who had been demoted from a regular soldier to being entrusted with saving others.

So when Ghost got the first hint of your scent, not the stale one, his head spun to the doors. Your leave was supposed to last another 6 days, not that Ghost was counting, and worry spiked through him. Had something happened? Was everything okay with your family, or did you merely forget one of the gifts you were giving to your nieces and nephews?

When the door slammed open, your eyes gazed across the mess hall. Your brows were furrowed and Ghost could smell the anger lacing your scent, alongside the musty smell of the rain that was coming down. The room had gone silent, everyone looking over at you. Your eyes locked on your squad, body tensed.

"Get the fuck outside," you growled, staring through your squad. They hesitated and your fist slammed into the wall. "Now!" You shouted, watching as they scrambled up and moved. All but the Alpha, who moved leisurely. Your eyes didn't leave his and you pointed. "You move any slower and I'll have you dishonorably discharged for insubordination," the man didn't flinch.

He gave a smile, looking at you. "You're not even a soldier, you have no say in what I do," your muscles relaxed, leaning your head back, eyes falling closed. Ghost stood, moving towards the two of you, opening his mouth to say something.

"You're on my squad, you do as I say, unless you want me to remove you. You want this to be your last strike?" The Alpha looked away, opening his mouth to make a remark.

"I'm sure there isn't going to be a problem, is there?" Ghost finally spoke up, moving beside the man and staring down at him. The Alpha scoffed and walked away, leaving you looking around.

You gave a soft smile. "Leave your stuff, it'll be cleaned up," and you turned and walked away, adjusting a hood onto your head. Ghost stared after you before walking back to Soap and Gaz, sitting beside them again.

"What the hell happened?"

You stood in the rain, having grabbed another jacket to protect you from the chill of the wind, alongside the rain beating against you. Your squad was running until they collapsed or someone admitted who caused the problems. You knew, though, that the stubborn Alpha in your squad was always the problem.

"You need to get back here," Soap said into the phone. "I honestly don't know what to do with them," and you booked a flight.

Now you were waiting, patiently. Someone would give in soon enough, someone always did. There would always be a weak link, and if it took running them until they threw up so be it. A hand fell on your shoulder and you looked back, eyes climbing to find Ghost standing behind you.

"I've never heard you scream," you laughed, looking back to your squad. The Alpha ran at the front of them, no reaction to the amount of running he was doing. You were pretty sure he had lapped everyone at some point, but you weren't paying close enough attention.

You looked back to Ghost. "You have most definitely heard me scream, just not angrily. Soap called, said that the squad was getting out of control and they didn't know what to do," you sighed. "I thought I taught them better, but I guess I haven't treated them exactly like soldiers," Ghost hummed behind you, eyes trailing the Alpha.

A shiver ran through you and Ghost pulled you back into him, letting you soak in his own warmth. "Does he always give you problems?" You nodded, letting him take on your weight as you leaned against him.

"There is rarely a day that goes by when he doesn't give some form of lip, but everyone's grown used to it, I guess," you whispered, sighing deeply. It bothered you, so much, that you couldn't get all of your squad to act like it. Like a pack. "He's just trying to take control back. He was kicked from his last squad because of similar problems, speaking down on Betas and Omegas," Ghosts scent changed a little, but you weren't able to decipher what it was before it had disappeared.

Neither of you spoke for some time, merely watching the group of wanna-be's run around and around. You wanted to be back home, with your family and watching the little ones run around, not some grown adults. You just wanted to be able to control the squad like other people, but you needed a break. So you went on leave, but came back too soon.

There wasn't much of choice, though. Either let Soap and Gaz keep getting eaten alive, or you come back and beat them back down, but maybe if you talked to Simon he would've been able to help. No, this was your squad, they were your responsibility. You'd have to be a Drill Sergeant, and it was already giving you a headache.

You pushed off Ghost, watching as one of the Omegas stumbled before righting herself. You gave a deep sigh. "Get over here!" You shouted over the rain and wind. As everyone gathered, you glared through them. "I am not your mother. I shouldn't be coming back from leave early because your senior officers are unable to control you," you huffed, looking away for a moment.

The rain still pattered down, and the Alpha was looking away. You couldn't decipher how you felt about him, but you knew it was heavy dislike. Something about the man made you uncomfortable.

"You'd expect a group of adults to behave better than a group of pups, but I suppose none of you have grown," the Alpha opened his mouth to speak and Ghost took a step forward, daring him to make a comment. "I haven't been treating you as soldiers, clearly, so from now on you'll be meeting up with Task Force 141 to being your morning training," a smile graced your features.

You'd spoken with Price briefly over the phone on your flight back. It didn't take much to convince him, and his tone gave you the chills once or twice as he described what he could do. You didn't mention anything to Ghost. You weren't entirely sure what he would do if he found out you were being dragged away from your family because of a problem child.

Everything was still in the air, what you would end up doing with them. As you gazed across, the only person not having any form of regret was the Alpha. Michael. If you could, you would have rejected him from being a part of your team. You'd read his file, it was nothing short of infraction after infraction.

You gave a deep breath. "You're going to go into the mess hall and clean it, if I come in there tomorrow and find even a crumb you'll be stuck cleaning it every day until you leave," no one moved. "What are you waiting for?" They scattered into the wind, Michael still taking everything at his own speed.

Ghost grabbed his soldier, eyes not leaving the mans. "You'll be with me," and you watched him get dragged away. You were finally free to take a warm shower, perhaps curl into your nest for some sleep you'd lost while traveling.

It was late in the evening when you heard from Simon. He had walked into your room, taking his boots off and crawling next to you in your nest. His balaclava scratched at your neck as he scented you, brushing his cheek against you.

You turned the page in your book, letting the large Alpha nearly curl around you. Your fingers found the top of his head, scratching at him over the balaclava. Yet to see his face, you never pushed it. It was none of your business to push him, even as his mate.

You could hear him chuffing softly, nose digging into your neck slightly. It was quiet for some time, outside of the chuffing of Simon and the pages turning from your book. His hands were around you, tugging you closer to him as your fingers continued scratching.

The chuffing quieted, a bothered grunt coming from him. "Want to feel your hand," he muttered, tugging at his balaclava before being able to pull it off entirely.

You didn't look, didn't move, just kept on reading as your fingers found hair. That made you pause, brows furrowed as you turned to look at him from where he returned to your neck, his chuffs returning.

Purring, you tugged him to look at you, book falling from your hand. Simon groaned softly, trying to pull his head out of your grip. A quiet be still, coming from you before he paused, eyes opening to glance down at you.

Scars littered his face, your fingers finding some of the larger ones to stroke at, trying to memorize every part of his face. You could see his cheeks growing a little red and you laughed softly, pressing your hands to his cheeks.

"Little embarrassed of being looked at so thoroughly?" Simon looked away, finally pulling out of your grip and hiding his face back against your neck. You could feel him lick you slightly, laying down a nip or two, his hands tugging you against him again.

It was a few moments later that either of you finally said anything. "What did you do with Michael?" Simon huffed against you, a quiet who?, coming from him. "The Alpha you pulled away from the rest of the squad," you added.

Simon pulled away to look at you fully. "Nothing illegal," you looked at him, smile dropping. He gave you a little grin. "Just gave him some things to do to get all of his energy out, he had a little too much to be acting that way," you laughed.

The next morning, you had a knock on your office door. "Come in," it wasn't anyone you would've expected. Not Ghost, nor Soap or Gaz. Michael.

He slammed his hands on your desk and leaned over it. "I want out," you raised your brows. "I'm not gonna let some little doctor think she can control me," you gave out a deep sigh. "And what about Ghost? You fuck him to get where you are?"

"My relationship with the Lieutenant is none of your business, soldier," you answered, crossing your legs. "You want out? You leave this squad and it's the last place you'll be. You know you can't join the military again if you get discharged. Too many infractions," you shrugged, pulling his file out of your desk. He looked at it.

Lunging for it, you pulled it out of his reach. "Who the hell gave that to you?" You laughed at him, his scent changing to something reeking of anger. God, why were you able to smell him? "Or, is it because you're an Omega?" He smiled shortly.

You stood. "You haven't been taking your suppressants as prescribed, have you?" There was no other answer for why he was so angry constantly. Without a consistent dosage, the androstenone in him would be too high to think properly. He could go feral.

Lunging for your phone, you were only able to get one number dialed before he threw it into the wall. "A little Omega bitch, fucking Ghost in order to get where she is," he snorted. The door was cracked open still, but Michael was in the way. There was no leaving.

Looking away, you blinked slowly. "I'm assuming this is how you were removed from your last squad," he threw your chair into the wall and you opened the file.

"You have no right to read that, you bitch," he growled, trying to grab it over your desk. You pulled it back, Michael growling deep in his chest. "You're gonna give me that, or I'm gonna fucking kill you," you could feel your heart in your stomach. Sure, you could fight but it was nothing with an almost feral Alpha trying to kill you.

Glancing around, you had to look for something to hopefully protect yourself with. A man like Michael could easily kill you, you didn't doubt it. One wrong punch and you'd be in the infirmary, another and you could be out of it. Forever.

"You touch her and you'll find out why I'm feared," Simon. You could feel the relief coursing through you. He wouldn't let anything happen to you, let alone allow another Alpha to hurt you. You looked between the two, seeing Michaels face slowly start to drop.

You dove under your desk the second either of them moved, a growl ripping through the area as you heard a body slam into the wall in front of you. You knew the fear on your scent would be pungent, especially to Ghost.

And it was. He could smell it from down the hall, causing a spark of fear to course through himself. The only other thing he could smell was another Alpha, and he hoped to god he wouldn't be too late. When he opened the door just a tad bit more, he heard the threats.

It set something off in him that he hadn't felt in a long, long time. He didn't hesitate before throwing the other Alpha into the wall, seeing you dive under your desk in his peripheral. His fists found the man, but it barely did anything. A feral Alpha would do anything to kill whoever he saw, and Ghost could hear shouts coming from the hall.

Michael charged at Ghost, who braced for impact, colliding with him and being dragged into the hall and on the wall across from your office. Ghosts knee found Michael gut, throwing him onto the ground and climbing over him.

Some MP's had come careening down the hall, guns up and shouting commands. Ghost tried holding the man down, but it didn't do too much before he was bucked off and climbing to his feet. The fear was still pungent on your scent and it set Ghost off.

He couldn't do anything before gunshots echoed down the hall and Michael collapsed. A few tranq darts scattered along his back.

Ghost was put on administrative leave, pending investigation. You'd used the rest of your leave to be able to stay with him and for the entire duration you weren't out of his eyesight.

Showering? He was standing against the far wall, staring through the doorway.

Trying to use the bathroom? The locks on your bathroom doors had never been used more, and when you left he would be standing in front of it.

For some time you had also been far to shaken to let Simon leave your eyesight. There was nothing he would do that you weren't following him for, his showers left you sitting on the counter and talking to him, even without a response. You didn't go into the bathroom with him, but sat by the door as your eyes flittered around to each corner of the room, looking for feral Alphas.

Before either of you became more comfortable, Simon wouldn't even go into your nest. He would sit outside of it, never moving much at all. It took you panicking in the middle of the night for him to start going back inside of your nest.

Neither of you knew what the future would look like, but as long as you had each other, you figured you'd be alright.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #no use of y/n #canon typical violence #fights #Protective Ghost #cod mw2 #call of duty #ghost mw2 #modern warfare ii #reader insert #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #alpha/beta/omega verse #i got to season 4 #i hope you guys like it #Maple Syrup

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frolixkav · 2 months ago

Text

First meeting

Vash, after the space station crashed, began to undergo mutations as a result of which his size began to grow and, over time, he began to acquire the characteristics of a predator, teeth, protruding feathers, his pupils narrowed, which is more characteristic of dragons. His weight gain increased over 50-100? Years.

Vash found Nicholas near a canyon in Gunsmoke when he traveled on horseback to find the target he was supposed to capture when he signed the pact to free Nicholas from the reign of the Eye of Michael.

Nicholas did not expect to mess with something so huge, convinced that he would have to find a normal-sized human. The encounter was quite hectic, and he fell from his horse, which became frightened. when he shook off the daze, he saw the dragon already towering above him.

His pupils were narrowed and his gaze was predatory. He did nothing but watch him as his prey, nicholas noticed, however, that if he had wanted to kill him he would have done so at first. Vash approached him with his face and lightly smelled him as if trying to assess him, a slight grimace appeared on his face probably from the slight smell of cigarettes that was on nicholas' clothes, and he backed away slightly but was still interested in him.

He sat/crouched across from him watching him. Nicholas wanted to reach out his hand towards the punisher, but when he did so immediately Vash growled at him informing him not to do so… Nicholas felt like he was in a trap however he did not feel from Vash a mindless predator however he did not feel the typical threat from a dragon. he saw that the humanoid creature had intelligence.

After a moment of watching and gazing at each other, Vash moved his tail closer towards Nicholas and pushed the Punisher away from his body and came closer when he saw that Nicholas had become defenseless. Nicholas could only feel his heart pounding in his chest and his fear growing with each closer contact.

Vash let out a quiet growl coupled with a rumble, and his pupils dilated as if he saw something in him. Nicholas didn't understand what he meant, his eyes widened in fear as Vash grabbed his body in his fangs, yet he felt no pain, the dragon's embrace and pressing teeth were gentle despite Vash's size, which began to go somewhere with him.

After a time, Vash arrived at a cave that was hidden in a canyon, went down the cave and arrived at a place that looked like his refuge from the world. He leaned down and released Nicholas from his embrace, placing him delicately on the ground.

He looked at Nicholas assessing his condition, as if worried that something might have happened to him. Nicholas looked around at his surroundings, they were both in a hole(?) in the cave, so there was no way he could escape from there. He was left alone with a dragon that no one knew about and no one knew he existed at all.

Heyaa! I plan to complete it yet, bc I've been thinking for days how to expand this AU,, let me know what you think about it :33

#au dragon vash #trigun wolfwood #trigun #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #nicholas d wolfwood #vashwood #wolfwood #vash x wolfwood #giant/tiny

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bloodywickedvamp · 2 years ago

Text

Two's Company - What The Hell Is Six?

Poly!Lost Boys x GN Reader x Michael

Series Masterlist

Summary: Reader is dating Michael Emerson and they're fed up with his uncharacteristic behavior towards his family and them since moving to Santa Carla. They decided to finally confront Michael on the boardwalk with an audience of 4 in attendance.

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: angst, heated argument (?) more so the reader just yelling, maybe a little gaslighting if you look hard, cursing

Hi! This is my first fic so any notes or critiques on how I can improve my writing or any notes at all are greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy! This may or may not turn into a multi-part fic. I have a bigger idea for it but we'll see if i have it in me to do it lol. Also, let me know if I missed any warnings and i'll be sure to add them.

Dividers: @saradika & @firefly-graphics

Michael Fucking Emerson...

The man I love more than anything has become someone I don't even want to know.

After moving to Santa Carla from Phoenix he changed so drastically I still can't seem to wrap my head around it. We've been together for a few years now and I became so close to his mom and brother that it felt natural to accept when he offered for me to come with them and stay for the summer once the time came for the move.

After his first few nights on the boardwalk is when I noticed the shift. He went off on his own as I was hanging with Sam or Lucy and wouldn't come home till the very early hours of the morning. He was rude and snippy to the questioning from his mom. Harsh and mean to Sam, more so than the typical sibling bickering and teasing that they engaged in. He'd keep his distance from me, like he could barely stand to be around me at all and completely blow me off any time I tried to talk or spend time together. It's only gotten worse and I'm at my wits end with it.

After having a tearful heart to heart with Lucy about his 180 in behavior I decided to take matters into my own hands whether he likes it or not.

I start my journey to the place that I've begun to despise, associating it with the 'new Michael'.

Finally, I spot my elusive brunette exactly where I thought he'd be, on the boardwalk but to my surprise he's also surrounded by a group of intimidating looking bikers. Two rowdy blondes, one with an impressively long curly haired mullet and an eye catching custom patchwork jacket adorned his somewhat smaller, muscular stature. The other untamed boy, with wild hair to match and a dark fishnet top that leaves almost nothing to the imagination, is nearly bouncing around the others with glee at whatever they're discussing. Next I notice a tall, dark, and handsome brunette to their right who takes the cake at revealing outfits with the lack of shirt and wide open leather jacket. With the slightest of smiles he's leaning against presumably his own motorcycle observing the rest of his group and the crowd at large. Lastly, to the right of the brunette and the left of Michael, there's a bleach blonde mullet you couldn't miss for miles a top the most intimidating looking one, wearing a too-stuffy seeming trench coat for this Santa Carla summer heat.

In a normal circumstance I would have slight hesitation to approach the group alone so boldly, as I find myself doing now, but I couldn't care less who's around. At this moment the only person to be feared on the boardwalk is me. I'm on mission for some answers and god help the poor soul who fucks with me right now.

As I take my final few strides towards my boyfriend they all notice me. The four unknown boys go quiet as they take me in curiously, a determined walk, pissed off expression, heavy breathing, and clenched fists.

"Michael fucking Emerson!" I erupted, jabbing my finger in his chest, coming face to face with the wide eyed boy.

"Hey baby-" He tried cautiously.

"Oh good you actually do remember you have a partner"

"Look I know you're upset and rightfully so but-"

I hold my hand up to silence whatever bullshit was about to spill from his mouth. "No no no, I'm still talking and you're listening." He nods his head slowly, afraid to set me off even more, if that's possible. I hear rather than see snickers to my right from the others.

"I don't know what's been going on with you and why you've been treating everyone in your life like shit but I'm sick and tired of it and I want answers. Now." The words spill heatedly from my lips as my anger intensifies from the inevitable release pent up over the past few weeks. Michaels mouth opens whether in shock or to interject, I don't know but I cut him off before I can find out.

"It's one thing the way you've been treating me - and trust me we'll get to that" I accentuate with a pointed finger in the air and back down after. "but it's a whole other thing with Lucy and Sam. You barely talk to or see Sam anymore and he's devastated, you're his best friend and he misses you. Your mother does absolutely everything she can for you and Sam. She upended her entire life in Phoenix to give you both a fresh start - since the move you've done nothing but push her away every time she tries to talk. That woman is the sweetest person on this planet and I'll be damned if you think I'm going to let you walk all over her anymore." Huffing at the end of my tirade.

If Michael's eyes got any wider they would've popped out of his head. Maybe the middle of the boardwalk wasn't the best place to do this but I couldn't contain it anymore. The nice approach hasn't worked and he needed a good telling off.

"You're right, everything you're saying is right but maybe we could do this more privately" Michael offered while trying to gently grab my upper arm to pull me somewhere else. With a worried look in his eyes he glanced at the boys then back at me pleadingly.

"Oh I'm sorry, am I embarrassing you in front of your new friends? Who I've never met or heard anything about by the way." I argued back while also taking the time to look them over, up close now.

They all seem to be enjoying themselves watching Michael's berating. Smirks and giggles passing amongst the group as they share knowing glances between them and at me, like they're having a secret conversation only the leather clad bikers can understand.

Piercing blue eyes land on me as bleach-boy flirted "You're a fiery little thing aren't you? I can't believe it's taking this long for us to meet, Michael, how come you didn't introduce us sooner?" He jabbed, finally tearing his eyes away from mine towards the conflicted brunette in front of me.

"You know why David." Michael states matter of factly. His grip on my arm tightening ever so slightly, voice husky with something primal I've never heard from him before.

"Can't imagine why you'd want to hide a babe like this away, it just doesn't seem fair." The tallest blonde beamed at me starry eyed and grinning cheerfully. He moved closer to reach out and stroke my hair quicker than I could register, taking in a small almost imperceptible inhale from me if I wasn't paying close attention. Releasing a contented sigh before I was pulled back towards Michael.

"Don't touch them, don't even think about it." he sneered.

"Come on Mike, we aren't going to hurt 'em. Right Paul?"

"Right on Marko." Paul jested as Marko playfully elbowed him.

What the fuck is happening and who the hell are these guys? Jumping into the one-sided argument between me and my boyfriend to start flirting? Are they his friends? Last time I checked friends don't hit on their friends' significant others, especially right in front of them so shamelessly.

"You never mentioned you were dating someone." The other brunette tacked on to the conversation speaking for the first time. Giving me a once over with those alluring brown eyes, hungrily.

I stared daggers back at the boy holding me in a tight grip, ripping my arm away to mock "Wow, why am I not surprised." I desperately try to steal my emotions to keep the hurt and betrayal from coming to the forefront.

"You don't understand and I don't even know how to explain but you have to believe me it's for your own good." Michael again pleads for my compassion. It's too late for that.

"Of course I don't understand you don't tell me anything anymore! You blow me off, ignore me, and I assume these four are the reason for your revamp in personality." I fumed, gesturing to the group. Chuckles are heard again, at the end of my outburst.

"Are you cheating?" I suddenly asked

"What no-" Michael sputtered in surprise.

"Did you meet someone else?"

"No of course no-"

"Did you do something that could hurt Sam, Lucy, or I?"

"NO babe-"

"Then I don't see what could be so bad that you feel the need to push us all away and act like this. The only reason I'm still standing here putting up with this is because I deserve an explanation and I promised Lucy I'd get answers out of you. So start talking." I sassed.

With a defeated sigh he raised his hands in surrender "Okay Okay, walk with me to the beach and i'll explain everything to you, alone." Emphasizing his final word with a sneer towards David. David only found that amusing as he quirked an eyebrow and took out the cigarette resting behind his ear placing it between his lips and lighting it. He inhaled and blew out a cloud of smoke stating "You sure about that Michael? You're already on edge, we wouldn't want you to lose control and hurt our doll now would we?"

Our? I barely had time to register or retort back at the presumptuous claim before Michael grabbed my hand and stormed off to the beach, steam basically pouring out of his ears.

To be continued...

I feel alright about this so far. Again it's my first ever fic post so you know...it is what it is. :)

🖤 Taglist 🖤

@britany1997

#bloodywickedvamp #the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #michael emerson #michael emerson x reader #poly lost boys x reader #poly!lost boys x reader #tlb 1987 #lost boys x gn reader #david tlb #paul tlb #dwayne tlb #marko tlb #michael tlb #michael emerson x gn reader #x gn reader #the lost boys x gn reader

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soapymansuds · 7 months ago

Text

Eternity and counting

Pt 4

(Pt1, Pt2, Pt3)

(Ragggggh!! Actually remembered to post on a Tuesday this time lol.)

Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)

TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad.

MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.

~/\~

I catch a whiff of fresh lilies as I continue to the castle. Curious. The castle has always smelled like roses. They were never Lord Diavolo's favorite, but they reminded him of his mother. But the closer I get, the stronger the smell, until it finally comes into view. Bushes and vines covered top to bottom in every species of lily I've ever seen in the human realm run elegantly up the walkway, over the entrance, and across the windowsills. I can't help staring in awe as I approach the front doors, I've never seen the entryway so decorated, even for Diavolo's parties or festivals. I wonder what the occasion is.

Within thirty seconds of my knuckles connecting with the door, it's opened with a flourish. Barbatos grins that trained grin I learned to detest in my time here. Nobody ever understood how I did it, but I could always tell when Barbatos was simply smiling for his Lord's image and when he was smiling for his own enjoyment. Part of me was always nervous he could see the same in me, but if he ever noticed, he never brought it up.

"Welcome to The Demon Lord's Castle. Please, Come in." He bows, sweeping his arm to welcome me.

"Thank you." I nod, stepping inside the frame and to the side of the door. Before he can even close the door behind me, I'm offering him the paperwork I was tasked with bringing.

"Ah, actually, if you don't mind following me. Lord Diavolo has requested to meet you. When he heard that Michael was sending a new angel, he insisted on meeting you. I'm sure you know the importance of those papers. It is quite unlike Michael to entrust a task of this magnitude to an angel we've never even met." He explains as he leads me down the hall.

I nod. "Of course."

I shouldn't have nodded. Why would I agree to this? It was instinct, I'm sure. Babatos could ask me to follow him straight into wild seas and I would, without a second thought. And now I've agreed to follow him to my own torment.

He moves silently as he leads me upstairs and out onto the balcony. My heart squeezes itself shut as I see Lord Diavolo, leaning over the balcony to admire the flowers below. He doesn't turn to greet us immediately, but something about the sag in his shoulders and the tension in his knees begs me to hold his hand. Soothe his worried thoughts until he has no choice but to sleep it off and start anew the next day. Something must be horribly, horribly wrong with me.

But the feeling is fleeting as he turns to us, standing tall as ever with that cover photo smile.

"Ah! You must be Michael's new angel! He seems quite fond of you." He strides towards us, clasping my hand firmly in his own. "Though, I admit he never gave me your name."

He poses the question so simply, and I have to fight the gut instinct to answer him honestly. But it burns, bitter and angry in my stomach as I summon the name Michael had given me for the sake of my privacy in the Celestial realm.

"Well it's a pleasure to finally meet you." He nods, but his wording gives me pause.

"Finally?"

"Of course! Michael has brought you up nearly every time we've spoken in the last several months." He laughs. God that laugh. I've dreamt of it. It makes me wonder for a brief moment if the cloaking spell expresses my growing blush.

But I disregard the consideration for the thought of Michael and the absolute hell I'd be giving him when I return. He's been plotting this for months, that bastard.

"Well, I'm glad to hear he speaks so highly of me." I bow lightly, presenting the paperwork to him. He takes it quickly, tossing it onto the table next to him.

As I stand back up, I wonder what to do with the sudden silence.

"Well, It's been a pleasure to meet you." I grin, wings flicking quickly. A nervous habit I've picked up since sprouting them.

"Right! I'm sure you have some important business to attend to." He claps his hands together. "Give Michael my best." He turns back to the railing and Barbatos moves to usher me out. But before I go, a question was lingering in my mind. "If I may, why lilies? Michael always tells stories of your grand rose gardens."

The balcony grows cold with the fall of Diavolo's gaze. Something unsettling burrows itself in my skin, burning like ice in my mouth.

"Lilies were MC's favorite." He mumbles. Practically whispers it into the wind.

But the sound reaches me anyway, and despite the gentle tone, it feels like being punched through the chest. "What?" I heard him, he knows I did. And he's right. Lilies are my favorite. Always have been. But I ask the question anyway. Because I simply can't comprehend why that would matter. It's been over a year now, they should have gotten over it. And yet, here he is. Mourning, right in front of me.

Barbatos places a tentative hand on my shoulder, whispering to me. "MC was a dear friend of ours. They... passed, some time ago." There's a pitch in his voice I don't recognize. Regret?

"And so, we maintain the garden, to show to them when they are reborn." Diavolo adds, smiling softly at me over his shoulder.

Something in the view of it all chokes me. Like swallowing a cotton ball.

They're still waiting for me.

Are they all still waiting? Lord Diavolo is one thing, but the brothers? Do they expect me to come home? Do they want me to? Why would they want that? After all I've done.

Before I can even consider it, I feel the familiar warm slip of tears down my cheek. Emotions I haven't grappled with in some time burn in my throat, clawing at my vocal cords and squeezing my airway shut. I hate this. I hate this feeling so much my hands shake with it. I never should have come here. It's selfish to say, but I could have gone on not knowing this. Had I stayed in the Celestial realm, I could have gone on for eternity, selfishly unaware that I was still wanted.

I swipe pathetically at my tears, wings flicking as I straighten my posture. "I'm, uh, terribly sorry for your loss." It's barely above a whisper but I know they can hear it. "But I... I should be getting back now."

They can tell something is wrong, of course they can. But rather than stick around for questions, I take off, sprinting through the halls of the castle and out through the front door.

I'm running on instinct as I navigate the streets of the city. I don't remember where I'm going, all I know is I need to get there fast. I should just return to the courtyard and wait for Michael to send the portal back to get me. But something in the idea of going back to the celestial realm brings bile to my throat.

So I follow my subconscious blindly, feet slamming against pavement and heart nearly shaking with the effort of it all until I come to an abrupt stop. My eyes, bleary as they are, recognize the sight before me like I had last seen it yesterday. The House of Lamentation looms over me, glass eyes challenging me from within the gate. The elegant iron rods of the gate twist around themselves and each other like a den of snakes. And I feel the same warm comfort from them as I always have. I pointed out the striking serpentine similarities between this gate and himself to Levi once. He was offended at first, but was quickly struck dumb when I pointed out how much I liked snakes.

The urge to press the gate open burns like fire in my hand, but I know that if I do, I won't be able to go back. There's no way I'd leave on my own once granting myself entry, and there's no explanation for my presence if I'm caught.

But if I turn around now, I will never come back. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

(UGHHHH I hope y'all are still enjoying!! As always, comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist)

-Your friend, The Author <3

*tags*

@spffldlbrnf @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @seraphlies @averageradstudent @sasa-mya @ayshela @miracl3d

#obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me #mammon x reader #obey me angst #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #lord diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me lord diavolo

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yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen · 6 months ago

Note

"Keep your hands where they are or I'll tie them up." 😉- honestly any Charlie character that inspires you (Please &Thank you💞)

Thank you, love for sending a request! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Raymond Smith x Female Reader

Warnings: 18 + only for language, explicit smut, bondage.

"Keep your hands where they are, or I'll tie them up," you freeze, your hand resting on the butt of your gun.

Michael Pearson looks between the two of you and chuckles giving you a wink, "I'd listen to him sweetheart, unless you're into that kind of thing."

You hold eyes with Raymond Smith as the two kingpins argue over pennies before reaching out for a handshake. "I look forward to working with you Pearson," your boss tugs on his coat, "we're both going to get incredibly rich."

He makes for the door and you go to follow when he stops turning and raising a hand, "not you sweetheart."

"What?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"Weren't you listening to the deal?" he laughs, breathing a cloud of smoke into your face. "You're staying to join Pearson's crew, under his second," he points a fat finger to the figure behind you.

You turn, reaching for your gun on instinct when Raymond Smith grabs your wrist and tuts, "now, now, what did I say would happen if you tried to pull a gun on me?"

"Let go of me," you growl, hearing the door click behind you. He releases your wrist and you hold it to your chest, "what are you going to do to me?"

“Whatever you’d like me too,” his smile is dark and you feel your panties dampen.

“What if I don’t want you to do anything?”

He smiles, “then I’ll leave you be.” He hesitates, “but we both know that’s not true is it darling?” He steps closer, invading your space, he smells like leather and expensive whiskey, and you feel a little drunk sharing the same air with him.

"What do you want with me?" He cocks a brow and presses you completely into the wall, caging his body with yours. You can feel every part of him, every part. "Oh," you whisper, feeling him hard against your belly.

"I've been watching your work for some time," he gestures to the door behind you with a flick of his head, "that fuckhead didn't deserve you. Didn't even realize what he had."

"And you do?" you challenge pressing so close to him, space ceases to exist. His smile is the only answer as he leans closer, pressing his lips to your own, instantly opening his mouth to tangle with your own. The smoke lingers on his tongue and you moan, collapsing back against the wall and pulling on the lapels of his coat. He follows, leaning into you and kissing you with a passionate combination of tongue and teeth. It's animalistic and you want more.

"If you're going to fuck my new employee could you wait for me to get out of the room?" Mickey Pearson interrupts, taking a final sip from his glass of brandy.

"Sure thing boss," Ray pants, "we were just leaving."

"We were?" you ask, breathless.

"Yes," he grabs your hand almost dragging you from the room and towards his SUV. He opens the passenger door, putting you into the seat, and buckling you in, making sure to touch every inch of you he can reach.

"Don't forget we have that meeting in forty minutes," Michael shouts from the doorway leaning against it and watching you with a smile. "Welcome to the team, sweetheart."

Ray frowns mumbling to himself before taking off, his hand on your thigh, rubbing your clit through the fabric of your pants. "We don't have a lot of time," he mumbles, turning off the main road towards the woods on the property.

"Where are we going?" You unbuckle your pants, desperate to have his skin on yours. You shimmy them down your legs, smiling when he curses and frantically looks between your exposed cunt and the road.

"Somewhere with a little more privacy," he pulls into an alcove of trees and gets out, slamming the door behind him. He opens the trunk, tugging something out and your mouth goes dry when you see the rope. He glances up to see your blank expression and winks, "what did I tell you, darling?" He lifts one finger and gestures for you to come, and with shaky hands you open the door, shoving your pants further down your legs until they pool on the floor, your shoes following.

He comes around the side of the SUV and stops, eyeing you from top to bottom. Holding your gaze he unbuckles his belt, licking his lips as you shove off your top and stand before him naked. He pushes down his pants, freeing his cock and pumping it. "In the back," he orders, reaching a hand out for you to follow.

You grasp his hand, gasping when he tugs you to stand beside him, his hand moving down to grasp your ass and giving it a sharp slap. "Sit," he orders, and you do, "arms behind your back." In seconds he's got your hands tied behind your back and your feet tied together in the back of the SUV, standing back and admiring his work as he continues to pump his cock.

"That's a site," he groans, reaching for you and pulling you to the edge of the SUV, your whole ass out for anyone to see. "I'm going to fuck this pretty pussy," he tells you, running his finger along your slit, "and from how wet you are, I think you like that idea. Tell me," he leans closer, "tell me you want me to fuck this pretty pussy."

"Please," you clench tightly when he slides a finger inside, slowly pulling it back before inserting it again, "please," you rock your hips but he puts a hand on your hip stilling you. He looks at you expectantly, "please fuck me," the word ends on a gasp as he slides his cock inside you.

Each thrust is sharp and calculated like all the things in his life, and you are gasping, twisting against the restraints for more. "Desperate little thing, aren't you?" he taunts, "you want me to fuck you harder? Is that what you need?"

"Please," drool dribbles down your chin when he grabs both your arms and tugs them back, pounding into you. You scream with each precise piston of his hips, feeling his cock in your cervix with how deep he is. Deep and thick he fills you so fucking good, and when he releases on arm to rub quick circles on clit, you're a fucking goner.

"Ray," you moan brokenly, knowing this is it, no one on the planet could fuck you as good as Raymond Smith. He doesn't stop, allowing the tension and pressure to swell again and again until you're cumming again so hard, you swear you blacked out for a minute.

"Shit," he groans, pulling out at the last second and turning you over, arm still tied behind your back, it pushes your torso up and your tits bounce with the force as he spills himself all over you. He's breathing loudly, running his fingers through his cum and smearing it all over you. "Mine," he growls, pushing his glasses up with his middle finger.

He writes his name in the cum, smiling down and leaning forward to leave a soft kiss on your lips. "Are you okay?" he asks quietly, grabbing a hunting knife strapped to the wall and turning you gently to cut through the ropes. You're shivering, and you pull your hands to your chest to rub where the ropes burned. "Love?" he asks, taking your wrist and rubbing over them.

"I'm okay," you clear your throat, "more than okay. That was fucking fantastic." A smile splits across his face and he chuckles, running his cum stained finger over your cheek.

"Welcome to the crew."

"Do all of you, give such a warm welcome?" you chuckle, seeing his brow furrow and tighten a little line appearing between his eyes.

"No," he shakes his head firmly, "that is saved specifically for me."

"You tie up and fuck all the new recruits?" you tease, "that big bloke from back at the house, Bunny I think...he must have really fucking hurt your asshole."

"You're a little shit," he smiles, laughing and tickling your sides. Until you're both in a fit of laughter. "Just for the record, I don't usually fuck any of the crew, or anyone period."

He sits up, grabbing his clothes from the neatly folded pile beside you and gets dressed. "Ray," you ask, holding his jacket around your bare arms, and he pauses to look at you, "why me?"

He finishes tying his tie, checking the time on his watch and pulling the jacket further around your shoulders, "because, I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Because when I threatened you, you didn't back down. You're strong, confident, and after this meeting with Michael, I'd really like to take you out for dinner."

You pretend to contemplate his offer for just a moment before nodding, "Dinner sounds nice," you smirk, "as long as it's followed up by some dessert."

"Oh love," he sticks his fingers in your mouth, his cum salty on your tongue, "dessert is always the best course."

#Raymond Smith #Raymond Smith x Reader #Female Reader #The Gentleman #Autumn Writes #Charlie Hunnam #Thirsty Thursday

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jennysparksandtheauthority · 2 months ago

Note

I wish I could believe any Pricefield's criticisms in good faith, but this is the same fandom that harassed and abused Dontnod when Life is Strange 2 came out and it wasn't about Max and Chloe. The game got review bombed in the early days, and along with harassing the staff, the VAs and characters both received terrible racist comments. We also saw similar instances with True Colors. Harassment, review bombing, and racism.

Both Dontnod and Square/Deck Nine wanted to make this series into an anthology.

It was the Pricefield shippers who continually demanded the return of Max and Chloe.

Seeing how horrifically this fandom has treated so many people who worked on these games, many of whom are just as big of fans and passionate about it as they are, is it any wonder the latest entry is now a souless cash grab meant to bring in money banking on nostalgia while disrespecting the fans and hating on one half of a big ship?

And ever since the first two episodes of Double Exposure has come out, when the fandom isn't talking about Pricefield, I've seen nothing but transphobic comments about Gwen (constantly misgendering her and calling her a pedo because she's trans), racist comments towards Moses and Safi (accusing Moses of being the murderer just because he's black or being hoping Safi is going to die in both timelines because she's Arabic), bisexual erasure towards Max (which Michael confirmed was always supposed to happen, Square didn't influence her sexuality like so many of the fandom and the "former D9 employee" keep insisting), and attacking the VAs who are actually excited for this project and want to play the game on their youtube channels.

I used to love Pricefield when I was younger. I grew out of it as I got older because I saw all the flaws with the ship and figured out it wasn't for me. Any chance of enjoying the ship ever again was ruined by this fandom.

The Life is Strange fandom, and the Pricefield fandom especially, are incredibly entitled and bigoted. One of the worst fandoms I've ever had the displeasure to be a part of. And I'm not surprised at all that things ended up this way.

Big fandoms are always bound to be toxic at some point. The more people in a fandom, the higher the chances of having assholes among us. Unfortunately, it happens. And you’re right about all the fucked up shit that happened through the years, the LIS2 situation was especially heartbreaking.

But you’re also leaning into confirmation bias.

I’ve seen people on Twitter and TikTok and Instagram and here making fan cams of Gwen, saying she’s the best new character, arguing that she would have been a better love interest for Max than whatshisname and Amanda (and I echo that sentiment, Gwen rocks and I’ll fight the transphobes with my bare hands if I have to).

I’ve seen people hold dearly Sean and Daniel’s story, making the ‘squad’ sweatshirt sell out repeatedly in that website that has LIS stuff.

I’ve seen people saying they want to protect Moses at all costs, even calling for everyone to be respectful to the VA and to leave him out of the madness, just like with Hannah Tell.

If we’re having dinner in a restaurant with 100 well behaved people and there’s one or two or even ten assholes screaming and throwing things to other people, they’re going to ruin the experience for everyone else. They’re going to be loud and annoying and you could leave saying you’re never coming back to that restaurant. That’s fair. But the fault falls specifically on that group, not the other hundred people that were minding their own business and enjoying their dinners.

Nowadays, it’s impossible to enjoy any fandom if you don’t find the four/five weirdos that enjoy the thing as much as you and you create a nice little bubble of the stuff you like and the people you want to interact with. It’s sad, but it’s true.

This doesn’t mean people shouldn’t be held accountable and that we shouldn’t try to take out our own trash — I’ve been calling out an awful person on Twitter that’s been harassing and insulting the devs for the last few days. I reported them, I tried to reason, I did all the work until there was nothing left to do but to block them.

Sometimes you can make a difference. Other times, you can’t.

Now, are you suggesting that the whole pricefield fandom deserved this? That we all should be punished? That we’re all implicitly responsible for the misogyny, the homophobia and the greed of the capitalistic machine? Wow.

The simple truth is SE and D9 wanted to pander to casual gamers and gamebros cause they thought that would give them more money. The truth is that D9’s toxic work environment (reason enough to boycott everything they put out well before the pricefield fiasco) influenced this game to the point of being lead by people who didn’t understand the first game and that hated the themes at its core.

You think the pricefield fandom is bigoted and entitled? Oh boy, have a look at all the articles about D9’s internal affairs: N*ZI symbolism, misogyny, sexual harassment, homophobia…

You think the majority of the LIS fandom is toxic? Then take a look at what the casual cismale straight gamers are saying now. They’re the new LIS:DE fandom. I’m not going to reproduce the comments and the absolute vile things I’ve seen them say post-DE gameplay reveal and the break up confirmation, but I’ll show you a glimpse of the reactions:

So, in the bitter conclusion, you might be right: just like Chloe, we might deserve all of this because after all we’re loud, we’re queer, and we deserve to be punished.

Just like Nathan said to Chloe in the bathroom, the devs were asking this to the pricefield fandom… “Nobody would ever even miss your "punk ass" would they?”

Well, fuck around and find out.

#life is strange #pricefield #wlw #chloe price #max caulfield #life is strange double exposure #lis #life is strange spoilers #square enix #deck nine #asks open #anon ask

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 9 months ago

Text

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 9

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, some smut.

Word Count: 6,553

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Since I haven't posted anything on this series for the last two weeks, I thought I'd get this chapter out to you guys early, instead of waiting for Saturday. I hope you think it was worth the wait. The last chapter will be posted on Saturday, April 13. Thanks for all your support of this series! ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

3 weeks later

He’d lost them. They were gone.

Their screams echoed in his ears as he came awake with a start, breathing hard and fast.

Dean sat up and swung his legs over the side of the cot, feeling Y/N shifting beside him.

“Dean?” Her voice was squeaky and thick with sleep.

She sat up and began rubbing her hand across his back as she moved to sit beside him. He didn’t need to explain why he was awake and breathing as though he’d run a mile.

Y/N kissed his shoulder and he felt the heat of her lips through his thin cotton t-shirt. “It was just a dream.” She kissed him again. “Just a bad dream. Everything’s okay.”

Dean nodded absently and then turned towards her and cupped her cheek in his hand; he needed to touch her, feel she was real. He kissed her lips, soft and brief before he turned to look at Emma sleeping across the tent. She looked so tiny, dwarfed even by the small cot.

Dean stood up and crossed to her. Her little limbs were completely tangled up in the blankets and her head was nearly hanging off the side of the cot. Dean leaned down and adjusted her position to something comfier. He untangled her and tucked the blanket around her properly before reaching up and pushing back her messy brown curls from her forehead. He trailed his knuckles over her soft cheek and took comfort in the sleepy sigh that escaped her.

He stood staring at her a moment before he felt Y/N come up behind him and take hold of his bicep, pressing another kiss into the muscle there. He turned to look at her and the concern in her gaze was obvious, making him feel guilty. He bent to kiss her again, more lingering this time, as he buried his fingers in her soft, silky hair.

She kissed him back and wound her arms around his waist. When he pulled away, the warmth of their kisses had burned away some of the worry in her eyes and he was glad. He kissed her forehead and nodded towards the cot.

“Sorry I woke you. You should go back to sleep.”

She cocked her head and shot him a look with an arched brow. “So should you.”

Dean lifted one corner of his mouth in his best attempt at a smile.

“N’ah, I got my four hours. I’m good.” When Y/N opened her mouth to argue again he spoke before she could. “I have some stuff I gotta work on. So, you go back to bed.”

He pecked her lips once more and then stepped out of her arms, grabbing his jacket as he headed out; March may have been going out like a lamb, but there was still a brisk chill in the air outside the warm tent.

He knew he’d never be able to concentrate on any of the things that he actually should be doing so he just walked. He walked all through the camp, weaving between tents and nodding at the odd person who was out and about like him. He went to the garage and thought about working on Baby, but there really wasn’t any more he could do until they could go out and find her four new tires.

So he kept walking. He walked and walked until he came to the river. Most of its winter ice was broken up and within a couple weeks people would be able to come for cold baths once again which would be welcomed happily after months of unsatisfying basin baths.

It was probably dangerous for him to be so far from camp without another person, but he had his gun strapped to his thigh as always and the silence and wide open space around the edge of the river was soothing. He needed an escape from the relentless visions that swam in his mind’s eye. Horrific visions of Y/N and Emma being torn apart right in front of him.

He dropped to the ground to sit; his shoulders were bent and he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to gouge out the images.

Every night for weeks now he’d had the same kinds of dreams. There was never any specific situation in the dreams, at least nothing he could remember. But he just knew Y/N and Emma were being hurt and it was his fault.

Cas still hadn’t heard anything from the angels, no angel radio, and no contact from anyone. But his powers seemed to be mostly back. He still couldn’t teleport, but he could heal - they’d tested it again just to make sure it wasn’t a one time fluke. But Dean cut a long gash in his arm and the angel had mended it quickly and easily. Cas could also tap people to sleep, and he said he’d begun to “see like an angel” again. Dean wasn’t a hundred percent sure exactly what that meant, but it sounded important.

There was no doubt the angels were back on earth. And they’d be coming for him.

***

Later that afternoon Dean sat at their table, as Y/N planned out a lesson for the next day. But his mind was still miles away, desperately turning possibilities over and over in his mind. For the last couple of months, since they figured out the truth about Y/N, he, Y/N and Cas had been working on a game plan for how to track down other younger generation psychic kids, as well as figuring out how to go about searching for former scientists, doctors, researchers, or anyone who might know enough to try and create a vaccine.

They knew it would be incredibly hard and time consuming, but they were determined. Or at least Cas and Y/N were determined. Lately Dean had begun considering another possibility.

As he sat worrying and contemplating things, Emma surprised him out of his stupor, climbing into his lap and putting her little hand on his cheek.

Dean worked up a small smile for her sake, but it obviously wasn’t enough because she spoke in a solemn voice.

“Are you sad?”

Dean shook his head and forced his smile wider. “No, of course not.”

“You look sad.”

Dean marveled at the little girl’s intuition (she was her mother's daughter) but he shook his head again. “N’ah, I’m fine, kiddo. Just thinking.”

“Bout what?”

“Nothing important, just some boring grownup things.” He tugged her braid and changed the subject. “How was school?”

Her eyes lit up and lost their look of worry. “It was good! Mommy read us a book about a dog. He was red and really huge!”

Dean chuckled. “Ah, yeah. Clifford.”

“Yeah!” Emma exclaimed excitedly. “Did you read that book before?”

He nodded. “Oh sure, there are a bunch of Clifford books. I used to read them all the time to…” He stumbled over his words for a moment, but cleared his throat and continued. “I used to read them to my little brother all the time when we were kids.”

As always, thoughts of Sam and who he used to be, sliced a deep cut into his heart, but he was used to how it bled so he could mostly ignore it. Emma’s bright blue eyes turned pleading.

“I want a dog like Clifford. Can we get one?”

Dean smiled. “Don’t think there’s too many dogs like Clifford out there. He’s pretty big and red.”

Emma shrugged. “K, just a normal dog then? Please?”

Dean chuckled and shook his head. Before he could say anything though, Emma was quick to explain herself.

“He doesn’t have to live in the tent, he could just live in the camp. He could be our camp dog, like Lily is our camp cow.”

Dean sighed as Emma stared up at him, her little face imploring. “Pleeeease.” She repeated. He saw Y/N smirking out of the corner of his eye, but she said nothing.

“We’ll have to see kiddo, okay?” He said with a kiss to the top of Emma's head. Her face fell a little but she shrugged.

“M’kay.” She mumbled.

Y/N stood up and reached for Emma’s hand to help her hop down off of Dean’s lap. “Okay, baby, go outside and run off some energy before supper.” She helped Emma into her jacket and the little girl bounded towards the exit.

“Stay close to the tent.” Y/N called to her.

Emma gave a pout. “Can’t I go see Julianne and Keisha?”

“Fine, but no further.”

Emma took off quickly just in case Y/N changed her mind.

Y/N chuckled lightly and then walked over to where Dean sat. When she got there she lowered herself to her knees in front of him and laid her fingertips against his jaw.

“Wanna talk about some of those boring grown up thoughts swirling around in your head and keeping you so distracted.”

Dean gave a half smile. “They’re pretty boring.”

“Try me.”

He shrugged and Y/N sighed. “Is this about the dream you had this morning?”

He shook his head. “Dreams. Every night. For weeks.”

Y/N’s brow crinkled. “Why didn’t you tell me about them sooner?”

“What’s to tell? They’re horrific and confusing.”

Dean felt his fear bubbling up in his chest, acidic and almost painful in its intensity. He couldn’t keep Y/N’s earnest gaze; he took the hand she held against his jaw and squeezed it between his own as he lowered his head and stared at the floor.

“What if we…me, you and Emma, what if we just left?”

Y/N’s voice was incredulous. “What are you talking about?”

He finally looked back at her and he knew his expression was probably desperate, but he couldn’t help it. He was desperate.

“The camp would be fine with Cas in charge. And I’d get him to brand you and Emma and they wouldn’t be able to find us.”

“What are y-? Brand us?” Y/N asked, interrupting her own question.

Dean shook his head dismissively. “Just your ribs. It doesn’t hurt. I mean, not bad anyway. And it keeps them away, keeps them from tracking us.”

“Keeps who away?” Y/N asked, confusion clear on her face and in her voice.

“The angels.” Dean said low and quiet, feeling as though they might be listening in.

Y/N frowned. “Why would you want to hide from angels?”

Dean shook his head. “Look, Cas is an outlier, okay. Most angels are dicks, and some are downright sadistic.”

Y/N’s eyes were round now. “How…how can that be? Aren’t they…I mean I didn’t really go to Sunday School much as a kid, but aren’t angels supposed to be righteous? Aren’t they supposed to protect us?”

Dean scoffed. “In theory. But a lot of them can’t stand humans. And if they’re back now…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“Okay but,” Y/N was obviously still confused, “even if that’s true, why would that make you want to run from the camp?”

He stared at her a long time, debating telling her everything, the danger they were all in if the angels found him, but in the end he just shook his head. Why should she have to carry around this same awful fear?

“No, it was just a stupid idea. I don’t like the angels, so I’m not anxious to see them again, but you’re right. Running is dumb.”

They’d find us somehow anyway. Dean thought to himself.

“Dean,” Y/N began, obviously not convinced by his dismissive answer. But before she could say more, he cut her off with a kiss. It might have started as a distraction, but that purpose immediately fell away as he delved his tongue into her mouth and devoured her. The soft sounds issuing from the back of her throat drove him crazy and suddenly it was as though he couldn’t get close enough.

He pulled away and they were both panting. Y/N’s smile turned mischievous and she dropped her hands from the open sides of his flannel to his belt buckle.

“Emma won't be back for a while. Think I’ve got time to put a smile on your face?” She said as she slid his belt open. But Dean put his hands on hers, halting her.

“No, I wanna…” He trailed off and then stood up abruptly, grabbing Y/N’s wrist and pulling her along behind him. He could feel her confusion and he threw a wink over his shoulder as they left the tent.

“Trust me.”

Y/N’s brow smoothed out and she grinned. “Okay.”

They left the tent and walked east, meeting Johnston along the way. Dean called out to him as they passed, but didn’t really slow down.

“Emma’s over at Monique's. Go tell her to stay there till we come pick her up.”

“Yes sir!” Johnston called back and he ran off to follow the order.

They walked briskly all the way to the garage. If anyone wondered about why the Boss was speeding across the camp with a dangling belt and Y/N in tow, no one stopped them to ask. Dean assumed they could figure it out.

They reached Baby and Dean wrenched open the back door. Y/N’s face was beet red as she looked around surreptitiously and whispered in a scandalized voice.

“Dean it’s the middle of the day, there are people around.”

Dean shrugged. “So?” He paused a beat and then gave a sideways nod towards the door. “Get in.” He watched the fiery heat bloom in Y/N’s red-ringed eyes and his whole body hardened as it always did when he knew she was thinking lustful thoughts.

With a girlish giggle that made his heart happy and hurt in equal measure, Y/N climbed into the back seat. Dean followed her and closed the door behind him. The curtains were all still drawn, so he simply locked the doors before turning to Y/N and immediately capturing her lips again. He gently pushed her down on the leather seat beneath him.

He spread kisses across her chest, and she sighed. “I’m gonna have to try and be quiet.” She whispered.

Dean shook his head and spoke against her skin. “Don’t bother. You won't be.”

She let out a surprised laugh. “Wow, someone’s sure of themselves.”

Dean slid his hand into the waistband of her leggings and pushed aside her panties to slide two fingers through her wet heat and rub them against her clit. Y/N gasped loudly and Dean arched a brow as he watched the pleasure ripple across her face.

“Do you doubt my abilities to make you scream?”

Y/N shook her head back and forth, letting out a keening moan as he pushed his fingers into her body, his jaw clenching at the way her cunt tightened around them.

She reached for his waistband again, trying to open the button on his jeans, but Dean stopped her once again.

“No, I just wanna touch you, just wanna watch you while I stroke you and pleasure you.” He found the spongy spot deep inside her, and swept across it teasingly. Y/N let out a cry of pleasure, clapping a hand over her mouth when she realized that she was indeed failing to be quiet.

He pulled out of her body and raised his fingers to his mouth, sucking her essence from his fingertips. “You’re so fucking delicious, sweetheart.” He put his fingers to her lips, pushing them into her mouth and against her tongue to give her a taste before dragging them down over her chin and the long column of her neck as she arched her back.

He made quick work of stripping her so that she laid beneath him covered only in goosebumps. She reached up to pull off his shirts and he let her, so that she could pet her hands down his torso, and press her nails into his back as he dipped his head to suck on her pulse. He worked his way down her body, letting his tongue explore her, memorize her.

He refused to try and dissect why he had such a thrumming need to burn every inch of her skin into his memory, to learn her sighs and moans like they were lyrics to his favorite song.

In the back of his mind he knew why, but he shied away from the truth. He only wanted to feel her move beneath him, only wanted to taste her, only wanted to concentrate on the way her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she tried to hold in a moan and the way the sound burst out of her anyway when he speared her with his tongue.

He spent the next hour pulling her apart over and over until the sound of his name on her lips was a refrain he knew he’d never be able to forget.

***

A few more days passed and Dean did his best to avoid Y/N’s questioning glances. He didn’t want to talk about the fears that grew stronger inside him every day.

One night as he laid beside Y/N on the small cot, her arm around his waist and her face buried in his chest, he heard rustling outside the tent that sounded like footsteps. It was the middle of the night. There would be no reason for someone to be walking around their tent unless there was some kind of trouble.

He gently disentangled Y/N’s arms from around him and got up, grabbing his gun from just under the cot. As he was leaving he glanced at Emma to make sure she was sleeping peacefully, moving outside the tent when he could see that she was.

He couldn’t see anyone in the immediate area, so he moved stealthily through the tents. Finally he came out into the clear open area between the tents and the spring vegetable plots. He looked towards the big cabin, and couldn’t see anything amiss. Still, something felt off and he decided he’d go talk to the soldiers he had stationed at the southern post for the night.

But before he could move he heard a voice behind him that made his blood run cold.

“Dean! Long time no see!”

He turned slowly, his gun raised, to see the angel Zachariah standing barely six feet away. The angel’s smug round face was exactly the same, same watery gray eyes, same phony smile.

And then Dean realized why everything felt off and strange. He lowered his gun and dropped his arms back to his sides.

“I’m dreaming.”

Zachariah continued to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were cold and calculating, just as they’d always been. “That’s right. Only way I could talk to you. We’ve been away so long.”

He looked around the camp and his lip curled. “Can’t say I was very anxious to come back to this smelly, cold rock.”

“Well,” Dean said, his voice hard and quiet, “don’t let me keep you here.”

Zachariah waved at him. “Oh no, the uh boss man, Michael,” he thumbed towards the sky, “he said the time was right for us to strike, finally. At first I thought he was crazy. I mean, once Sam said the big yes and we lost him as a catalyst to make you say yes, I must admit, most of us just gave up. No apocalypse this go round.”

He shrugged. “Then Lucifer leveled the planet with his little virus and you all became very, very boring. And the prayers! Ugh, god! They were nonstop.”

His voice took on a mocking whine. “‘Oh save us, heavenly hosts.’, ‘Help us god!’, ‘Save us from these monsters!’ It just went on and on!” He shuddered. “It was so loud all the time, so we just had to get away from the whining.”

Dean’s jaw was clenched so tight it was almost painful. He nodded and sneered. “Away from the helpless, dying people that you set up to be killed, you mean?”

Zachariah shrugged. “We tried to tell you that Michael had to be around to fight the adversary. But no, your stubborn independence was more important.”

Dean tried to keep his voice level. “What are you doing here now?”

The angel rolled his eyes. “You’re joking right? Come on Dean, your brother may have been the brains of your little operation, but surely you’re at least smart enough to figure this one out.”

Dean stayed silent, refusing to acknowledge the terror he could feel in the pit of his stomach.

Zachariah sighed deeply. “Come on Dean,” he encouraged, “I’ll help you out. So, if we left because you were so broken and useless when you found out your brother said yes, if we left because we knew we had nothing left to tempt you or force you to say yes…why do you think we’re back now?”

He paused as though he was a teacher waiting for a particularly dull student to answer an easy question.

Dean felt like he might throw up. “You think you can coerce me again now.”

Zachariah shot a finger gun at him. “Bingo! Except we don’t think we can, we know we can.” His voice became cold and lost its fake joviality. “You’ve got things to lose again.”

Dean felt like panic might be choking him and he desperately wanted to wake up and run. He shook his head at the angel superior. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zachariah rolled his eyes again. “Dean, don’t be ridiculous. We may have been away, but we’ve still been keeping an eye on you. We know all about your little camp of misfit toys, including your pretty, near-monster girlfriend and her pink-cheeked little brat. You care for them, all of them.” He nodded slowly. “We can work with that.”

Dean’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he felt the walls of his nightmares closing in. “You can’t find us. You don’t know where we are, and Cas and I put up as much angel warding as he could take. You won’t locate us.”

Zachariah shrugged. “But you know we will. It’s just a matter of time. Unless you want to save us all some time and just tell me right now?”

Dean’s eyes were blazing with hate as he just stared silently.

“No?” The angel sighed deeply. “Well in that case, I’ll just say, see you real soon.”

Dean came awake slowly, but panic set in quickly.

He jumped out of bed, calling to Y/N. “Sweetheart, get up. Now!”

Y/N rubbed her hand across her eyes and sat up. “Dean. What’s going on?” She asked in extreme confusion.

But Dean didn’t answer her. Instead he was shaking Emma awake. “Get up, baby. Emma!” The little girl grumbled sleepily, but Dean forced her to sit up. “I’m sorry kiddo, but you need to put on really warm pants and a shirt. Dress warm, we might be outside for a while, okay? Your big boots and your scarf too.”

“Dean, stop.” Y/N was standing up now and moved over to grab his arm. “What is this? What?”

Before Dean could answer Cas walked into the still dark tent, bringing a lantern with him. Dean turned to him and Cas’ usually stoic, solemn face showed fear.

“They’re coming.”

Dean closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I know. Zachariah came to me in a dream.” He gritted his teeth. “Piece of shit.”

“What’s the plan?” Cas asked.

Dean nodded and answered as he was rushing around, pulling on a flannel over his t-shirt. He’d worn his jeans to bed, so he simply shrugged into his green jacket and started loading up his duffle bag.

“So, we gotta go.” He told Cas. “You need to brand them, so they’re off angel radar too.” He said, rubbing a hand across his ribs. “I figure if we head out within the hour, we might be able to get a decent head start on them.”

Cas was shaking his head as Dean finished. “You can’t just leave the camp. Zachariah will torch the whole thing just to draw you back.”

Dean refused to admit the truth in Cas’ words. “No, that’s…look if I’m not around he’d have nothing to gain from burning the camp. It wouldn’t -”

Cas cut him off. “I told you, he’d burn it to bring you back, or just out of sheer spite and you know it.”

Dean opened his mouth to continue the argument when Y/N’s shout interrupted them.

“Enough. Stop talking right this instant and explain to me exactly what it is that you’re talking about, or I swear I’m going to lose my mind.”

Silence reigned for a few moments as Emma stared up at them all as though she was in the middle of a very vivid and kind of scary dream.

Dean stared into Y/N’s eyes for a moment before he decided she deserved to know the whole truth even if it was messy and painful. He’d just have to try and tell her quickly.

He reached forward to squeeze her hand and then dropped it as he paced around the tent continuing to fill his duffle bag with supplies they’d need.

“You remember me telling you about my brother Sam?” Y/N nodded, but Dean was just barreling on. “Well, I let it seem as though Sam died, but he didn’t, not really.”

Y/N was watching him roam around the room and he glanced at her quickly before continuing. “He’s uh, he’s Lucifer’s vessel. He’s…Lucifer took him over.”

Y/N’s eyes almost bulged out of her head. “Like…the devil? Are you telling me your brother is the devil?”

Dean shook his head and glanced at Emma, but she seemed to be half asleep as she watched them. “No, not really. Lucifer is just using his body, walking around in it. See angels don’t have form on earth, they’re just a bright white light. So, they have to possess a human, a vessel.”

Y/N looked over at Cas. “Wait, this isn’t what you really look like?”

Cas shrugged. “Well, my vessel, Jimmy Novak, his soul is in heaven. His body was exploded into oblivion, by an archangel, which also should have destroyed me. But God brought me back, and fashioned me this vessel. But it’s only me in here now.”

Y/N stared at him, blinking slowly for a moment before tilting her head. “Um…what?”

“Look, that doesn’t matter right now.” Dean said dismissively before continuing with his rapid fire explanation.

“Unlike demons, an angel needs permission to enter a human body, they need the person’s consent. So, at some point, Sam said yes to the devil. I don’t know why. I wasn’t…I wasn’t around when he said yes.”

He looked back at Y/N and he could tell she was desperately trying to take in all he was saying; her voice was contemplative as she spoke.

“Okay, that’s…I’m so sorry, Dean. That must have been horrible for you. But I’m still unclear about why we’re running away. You said the other day you wanted to hide from the angels? Why?”

Dean took in a deep breath, straightening up and finally dropping his duffle bag to the floor before crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because I’m a vessel too.”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide again. “For Lucifer?”

Dean shook his head and resumed his movements, no longer packing, just pacing. “No, for Michael, another archangel. The angels all believed Sam and I were destined to be their vessels on earth, allowing them to fight some epic battle that would bring on the apocalypse.” His voice was harsh with anger.

“When we found out about these supposed destinies, we both swore we wouldn’t do it, that they couldn’t make us. But I…well, I abandoned Sam, so I have no idea what they did to make him say yes. I was hurt and angry, and I truly thought we’d do better apart. So, I left my little brother to deal with the devil by himself.”

He stopped pacing and turned away from Y/N completely. “I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Dean.” Y/N’s voice was soft but he turned back to her and waved away her sympathy.

“None of that is the point though. The point is that they could never get me to say yes, but they were desperate to. And now they’re coming back because…well according to the asshole angel who was just in my dream, I have -” he closed his eyes. “I have something to lose now.”

Y/N’s face was scared, but he could see she was fighting to keep her voice level. “Okay, can I ask, maybe…I mean, if you said yes, then wouldn’t that make you powerful, maybe you could try to fight the devil, maybe you could push him out of your brother. Or maybe, I mean if angels can heal, think of all the good you could do in this sick world with that kind of power.”

Dean was shaking his head. “No, Y/N you don’t understand. If I say yes and Michael takes over, I’ll be…I’ll be gone. I’ll have no power inside my own body. I won’t be able to make any decisions or do anything to change Michael's course. And his only course would be to end Lucifer and end my little brother in the process.”

“And,” Cas interjected, “Archangels rarely leave a vessel alive.”

Dean wished Cas had left out that little tidbit as Y/N’s face became more and more horrified. She took deep steadying breaths as Emma finally climbed out of her cot and walked over to Dean to wrap her arms around his forearm.

“You’re going?” She asked in a sleepy voice. Dean shook his head but before he could answer her they heard a loud scream and Cas stiffened.

“It’s too late. They’re here.”

Dean's stomach clenched so tightly it felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. Within seconds they could smell smoke and hear the crackle of flames. Dean grabbed Emma up in his arms and ran out towards the noise. As they emerged from the tents they could see the big cabin burning in the distance, flames shooting high.

Standing barely ten feet in front of them was Zachariah and four other angels.

As they stood staring at the angels, Johnston and Risa joined them, seeming to understand instinctively that this ominous, incongruous group of men in suits were a bigger problem than the fire.

They all looked to where the campers were gathering and scrambling forward with buckets of water from the rain barrels that sat beside the school and storage shed. They quickly formed an assembly line and began moving the buckets back and forth to the cabin.

But Dean could see they wouldn’t be able to save it. The best they could do was keep the fire from spreading to the surrounding trees.

He looked at Zachariah with hatred dripping from his pores. “Stop this, right now, you son of a bitch.”

Zachariah pretended offense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. A lightning bolt struck it. Just an unlikely act of God.”

Dean didn’t say anything, but when the angel’s gaze fell on Emma as she clung to Dean’s neck, he turned to Y/N who pulled her daughter away and then set her on the ground behind her. Instantly Johnston, Risa and Cas closed ranks in front of Y/N and Emma.

Zachariah just smiled. “Aw, that’s really adorable.” He looked back at Dean. “But you know the strength I wield. Do you really think your little wall of protectors is gonna stop me?”

Dean’s mind was reeling, terrified and racing for solutions to this utterly inescapable situation.

When he didn’t immediately answer, Zachariah’s face became thunderous. “We are NOT playing this game again, Dean Winchester!” He barked out before snapping his fingers.

Suddenly Johnston fell to his knees, clutching his throat as blood bubbled over his fingers. Y/N and Emma screamed in horror and Risa shouted out a denial as her friend and brother-in-arms fell at her feet. Cas turned, reaching out to touch the soldier to try and heal him, but two angels bolted forward to hold him back.

Dean scrambled to Johnston’s side, across from where Risa knelt. The young soldier was deathly pale as Dean held his head in his hands.

“It’s okay, soldier. You hear me? Stay, stay with us now.” He ordered him, even though he knew he was asking for the impossible. Red blood stained the young soldier’s neck and his shirt as his life's blood spilled into the muddy, wet ground beneath him.

“Eric.” Dean called to him softly as he gripped his shoulder. “Eric.” The young man looked up at him and it was the first time he’d ever looked at Dean without fear or trepidation of some kind in his eyes. A soft smile graced his lips and Dean wished he knew what he was seeing as he closed his eyes and let his last breath rattle from his chest. Risa pressed her forehead to his, crying quietly.

Dean’s gaze was scorchingly hot as he stood back up and looked across at the uncaring monster in front of him.

Zachariah shrugged. “Just a little reminder of how quick I can make everything change.” Again he looked at Emma where she was crying in Y/N’s arms, and raised his arm to snap his fingers again.

“No!” Dean screamed out, leaping in front of Y/N and Emma as though he could possibly save them if that snap came. “Okay, yes! Yes!” He shouted.

His breathing was ragged and tears clogged his throat. “Yes. Please. Please don't hurt them.” He hated that he was begging, but he’d do whatever it took to keep Y/N and Emma breathing and safe.

Zachariah slowly lowered his hand, a smug smile on his sneering face. “Glad negotiations went better this time around. So, let’s call Micheal down shall we?”

Dean held up a hand. “Yes, but just…put out that fire.” He said pointing at the still blazing inferno. Some people seemed to realize that something was happening across the camp, but they were all quite occupied putting out the fire. Zachariah shrugged and nodded and the blaze was suddenly out, black smoke rising from the ruins of the big cabin.

Dean took a deep breath. “And let me…say goodbye to them.”

Zachariah rolled his eyes but waved at him to hurry up. Dean turned to Cas, ignoring the asshole angels who were no longer holding him, but were still close behind. He called Risa over and she finally left her friend’s side to join them. He put a hand on each of their shoulders.

“The camp’s gonna need you both to help get past all of this. I know you won’t let them down.” They nodded and Dean pulled them into a three way hug, before clapping a hand to Cas’ neck. “You take care of Emma and Y/N, you promise?”

Cas nodded. “Yes. I will.” The angel’s bright blue eyes were dull, but his voice was strong and Dean knew he meant it with his whole angelic being.

Finally he turned to Y/N and Emma and his heart lurched at their tear stained faces, both so alike. As he approached them, Emma ran out of Y/N’s arms and he dropped to a knee so he could wrap his arms around her as she launched herself at him.

Her hot tears soaked into his jacket as sobs shuddered through her small frame. “Don’t go.” She whispered brokenly. Dean squeezed her tighter before he pulled her back so he could look at her. He brushed back her always unruly curls from her forehead and kissed her there.

“I gotta go, kiddo. I’m so sorry.”

Emma took big hiccuping breaths as she responded. “Because of the bad man?” She said looking across the clearing at Zachariah.

Dean forced her to look away from the sadistic angel. “Yeah, baby, because of the bad man. But I…” He brushed away her tears from her cheeks. “Need you to know that I’d stay if I could. If I could, I’d never walk away from you. I swear.”

Emma nodded and he prayed she would remember that and be reassured that another father hadn’t just walked away from her.

He tried to smile, but worried she saw through it. He pulled her close again, and spoke quietly. “I love you bigger than big.”

Emma sniffed and spoke into the front of his shirt. “And taller than tall?”

He pulled away and managed a real smile as he cupped her cheeks. “And taller than tall.”

He stood up and took Emma’s hand, ushering her over to Risa who picked her up and rubbed the little girl's back as she sobbed.

He moved towards Y/N, and stared at her for a moment, completely incapable of saying goodbye.

Y/N shook her head, her tears falling fat and fast. She looked slightly shell-shocked by everything that had happened in barely an hour. Her voice was shaky and thick.

“I don’t know what to…” She shook her head again. “This can’t possibly be happening.”

Zachariah’s bored tone cut between them. “Oh, it’s happening. And it better happen faster if we don’t want any more acts of God to occur.”

Dean closed his eyes briefly and then opened them to pull Y/N into his embrace. He lowered his voice so only she could hear, murmuring the words against her temple.

“Don’t think about this. Don’t think about what’s happening. Instead imagine we’re still just lying in bed. I have my arms wrapped tightly around you and we’re both safe. We can hear Emma talking in her sleep across the room. Close your eyes and stay there, in that moment.” He pulled back to lean his forehead against hers. “Visit me there from time to time, okay?”

Y/N was nodding, and her breathing was ragged. But she reached up and kissed him gently. “This isn't goodbye. It can't be. I won’t believe it. So, as far as I’m concerned, we’ll be back there, in that moment soon.”

Dean gave her a tilted smile. “I love you, you know? I should have said it so much sooner, cause it’s been true for a long time.”

Y/N closed her eyes as though she was in pain. Maybe she was, he was; it felt like a ton of bricks was crushing his chest.

But he concentrated on her bright, red-ringed eyes as she spoke. “I love you too. So much.” Y/N’s tight smile crumpled and she fell back into his arms sobbing.

As Dean crushed her against him one last time, he could hear Zachariah groan in frustration and then begin chanting words in Enochian. The atmosphere began to change around them as the earth rumbled. Dean felt himself being pulled out of Y/N’s arms as Zachariah’s patience ran out and he yanked him away.

“Don’t look at the light!” Dean called to Y/N as a blinding white light enveloped them all. He heard a kind of whispering in his mind, it wasn’t exactly words, but he understood it. It was a question.

He looked back at Y/N and Emma and gave the only answer that would keep them safe.

“Yes.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#dean winchester #endverse!dean #endverse!dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester angst #endverse!dean fan fic series #dean winchester fan fic series #endverse

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greenthena · 1 year ago

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Metatron's Tie

**Update: check the reblogs. There's a clear picture that shows the tie pattern as flowers. So, there goes my theory. Whomp whomp. Easy come, easy go, as Freddie says. @archangelween @drconstellation

People, I have been trying to get a good look at the Metatron's ding dang neck tie since September to determine what those little blue symbols are. Because, like everything in the Good Omens universe, I believe it's been put there for a reason. I also believe that God has no idea what she's doing, which is why she hired Neil Gaiman to run things for a few decades.

Despite being a so-called agent of Heaven, the Metatron's costume is coded as demonic, from his dark topcoat to the black stripes on his white shirt. The item I find most fascinating, however, is his tie. And this is probably in large part because I've had so much difficulty seeing the subtle blue pattern upon it and that has made my brain itch and made me hyperfixate. As one does.

I think I may have figured out the design, and it complicates all my Metatron theories, but here we go. The Metatron's tie is black, featuring a repeated small bright blue symbol throughout. I've guessed it could be a star or a planet. A cryptic sigil or maybe something to do with the coffee (I'm not a coffee-theory person, though, for the record.) I don't know what it is (well, maybe I do now, and I promise we'll get there in time...I'm a demon of my word), but I do know that it's important.

All the angels have references to their angelic status concealed within their costumes.

Michael is the watcher. She is the one who, in Saturday Morning Funtime, delivers surveillance photos to Gabriel. To reflect this, Michael wears a gold ring featuring several small pearls that symbolize eyes. She is ever-vigilant (hyper-vigilant, ya might say), and even has a contact in Hell (Dagon) to broaden her scope of observation. The placement of the ring in the pinky is also significant. A good watcher mustn't themselves be observed, so Michael, in her role as observer must slip under the radar. This corresponds to the pinky finger being small and quite literally underhanded, as in at the bottom of the hand.

Uriel's ring is a silver star, worn on her/their index finger, the digit associated with authority. (We call it the index finger because we use it to sort and catalog, creating meaning and order.) Uriel certainly commands authority, both in their overall calm and assured demeanor, and also in their actions. It is she who physically confronts Aziraphale prior to the S1 No-pocalypse, easily inspiring fear in the Principality. As for the symbol of the star, I believe it is a reference to modern Angelography (I might have made up that word, but I think you know what I'm talking about) which usually describes Uriel as a sun, star, or the flame of the Almighty.

Sandalphon's symbology is two-fold: a thick gold pinky ring featuring a pair of circles (kind of looks like a lego brick, to be perfectly fair) and that small gold grill he wears on his front teeth. Both these items are the most elaborate pieces of angelic adornment that we see. Sandalphon's overall aesthetic is much warmer than the other angels', leaning toward caramel and tan rather than dove gray. He's a bit of an odd ball in the host of Archangels and stands out based on his wardrobe choices alone. He's also the only Archangel not to return in S2. I don't want to make too much of this, because there are many in-universe reasons why we may not see Sandalphon again. However, in Judeo-Christian scripture, Sandalphon is closely joined with...wait for it...the Metatron, with apocryphal texts describing him as Enoch's (the Metatron's pre-angelic human name) twin brother. I take this with a hefty spoon of salt, though, since Neil definitely plays loosey-goosey with these dogmas and even the scriptures themselves are a veritable soup of contradiction. (The Bible is not a static or universally canonical text, and Hebrew scriptures, outside the Tanakh are a web of activity and debate as to what is accurate. I'm not here for the arguments today; this is not my Bat Mitzvah.)

Finally, we have Gabriel, the only Archangel who doesn't wear a ring. He does, however, wear a watch. I have two thoughts about the watch. First, clocks are thematically relevant in the Good Omens universe. From the grandfather clock in the bookshop to Crowley's elaborate wristwatch (which he has in both show and book) to the opening sequence of S1, which has far too many clock faces to count. So there's that. But holding time in one's hand (or on one's wrist) is a powerful metaphor that illustrates control and higher power. To possess a clock is to command time and space which are essentially inseparable. As the Supreme Archangel, Gabriel is nearly the top-ranking being in the universe (for a time, at least...see what I did there? pathetic laughter) and his wristwatch demonstrates this point.

If you're still with me, you're doing great. Good job.

We've got to see how important the Archangels' symbology is to their characters, I think, to really understand why the sigils on the Metatron's tie matter. So, finally to the point. Dolphins. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

To move forward, we'll need to call upon my old friend, the Tarot deck. Cards, in general, and Tarot, in particular, play a marked role in the GO universe. The Almighty Herself addresses the viewer in the opening lines of the show, "God does not play dice with the universe; I play an ineffable game of my own devising. For everyone else, it's like playing poker in a pitch-dark room, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time." As God speaks, cards appear on screen, and some of those are from the Rider Waite Tarot deck. One specific card that caught my eye in this montage is "Judgement."

This card features an angel blasting a trumpet and waking the dead from their graves on the Day of Judgement. The angel on the card is not named, as such. It's usually assumed to be Raphael, as he is the angel who is prophesied to call and raise all souls on this day. However, I've found other references naming the angel as either Gabriel or the Metatron. Now, I don't want to get overly carried away here, but in the context of Good Omens, reading the Judgement card with the Metatron as the angel pictured may actually make a lot of sense, and clarify the sigils on the Metabutt's tie. The Metatron postures himself as the Voice of God--the Mouthpiece of the Almighty. Kinda like a trumpet, yes?

Now look at the flag on the angel's trumpet. That's called St. George's Cross and it's a very prevalent European Christian symbol dating back to the Middle Ages. Like many images in the Tarot, it's a heraldic emblem that has meaning outside the deck, often associated with bravery and military might. It continues to be used in military iconography into the present day. The Judgement that the angel heralds is not peaceful. It's a call to war. The righteous will be gathered to Heaven and the wicked will be destroyed--a repeat of the first Great War in which Satan and the demons were cast into Hell. In the narrative of Good Omens, this war will bring about the end of time, the end of the world, and the beginning of eternity (hope ya'll like The Sound of Music.)

Kids (human and goat, alike) I think those little blue sigils on the Metatron's tie are Saint George's Cross. (I'm so sorry this is so small and hard to see. Now you know my pain.)

In the Final Fifteen, the Metatron speaks briefly about the Second Coming, which is a reference to Saint John of Patmos' prophecies--you might know them as the Book of Revelation. Some Christians interpret Revelation as an upcoming final judgement for humanity. And it seems, based on in-universe exposition, certain characters view these prophecies in a similar light. In the reverse body-swap at the end of S1, Crowley suggests that the averted Apocalypse was not the end of the conflict. "If you ask me," he says, "Both sides are gonna' use this as breathing space before the Big One. [...] For my money, the really Big One is all of us against all of them." And with the Metatron acting as the Mouthpiece of God, that "Big One," that Day of Judgement, if you will, may well be nigh.

I think the Metatron sees himself as the angel who rings out the Final Judgement. He is the Voice of God, after all. But here is a worrying thought. How little he would need to shift perspective to view himself as the Word of God, as well. The Gospel of John opens, "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. The Same was in the beginning with God." The Word of God is an epithet for Jesus. The same Jesus whose Second Coming the angel of judgement is meant to announce. So what if the Metatron just plans to consolidate these roles for himself: the heralding angel and the Second Coming rolled into one. He would become Judgement Incarnate, supplanting the Almighty once and for all. And for my money, that sounds just like what a demon would like to do.

***I'm updating because several readers have pointed out that it seems like I'm saying Metatron=Demon because Demon=Bad. Thank you for bringing this to my attention--it makes me a better communicator. I can see where it's coming from. It's not my intention. Consider this meta sort of an extension of my "Metatron is the Murder Hornet" meta, which I'll link with the tags if you're interested.

Just wanted to clarify that I think at its heart, Good Omens is thematically about rejecting the dichotomy of good and evil and embracing the messy gray space that is reality.

When I call Metaboob a demon, it's not because I think demons are evil, it's because I think he's the hornet in the beehive and we've seen that demons need an angelic escort (Crowley and Muriel) to access Heaven.

TL;DR Angels are not the good guys. Demons are not the bad guys. Good Omens is NOT about that at all.

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