#wrote this when sleep eluded me and thought

[starfallproject]

Tekken character vignette pt. 1

Characters: Kazumi, Kazuya.

Word count: 165.

Kazuya is asleep when Kazumi slips into his room in the middle of the night. Her child looks peaceful in sleep.

Kazumi kisses his forehead. She looks fondly at her son, tracing her fingertips on his face, her own bearing a brittle smile. Her fever spikes prevented her from seeing her little angel for the past few days.

As she goes to the door to make her leave, a quiet rustle stops her.

“Mom?” the question comes out uncertain, she looks back to see Kazuya sitting up, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Go back to sleep, dear. You need it for the morning training,” she hears herself say. Kazuya looks confused but nods drowsily, and lays back in his futon.

Her hands shake as she closes the shoji door, knowing that if she gives in to her desire to go back and gather him in her arms, she would waver.

Her fists tighten, she has a mission to complete. It was a long time coming.

[idkwhatever580]

Want to Want me

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader

Prompt: Nat can’t stay away from y/n in the night. Y/n wants something more than some midnight mayhem. Maybe Nat needs a push.

Warnings: smut, use of safe word, slight angst then happy ending, there is smut in the beginning but I’ll mark it off so that people who don’t want to read that stuff can still see the fluffiness

I will mark off where the details of intimacy cut in but there will be some things eluding to the smut before and after the set marking places

A/n: I’m using a lot of pictures in this one guys 😭 I’m sorry hope y’all like it though… also I wrote the smut while on a plane 😭

Natasha’s pov

It’s the middle of the night and I can’t sleep.

I’m so hot

My sheets are on the floor I have my fan on full blast and nothing is working. I’m about to take all of my clothes off which won’t do much since I’m already in a bra and shorts.

Why won’t this feeling go away?

It’s the feeling that I always get when I think of her. I can’t get her out of my head but nights are especially long when I feel this way.

I have to do something about it.

I grab my phone and pull up y/n’s number and send her a text.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Me

Are you awake?

Y/n

Yeah. Are you alright? It’s late you should be asleep

Me

Couldn’t sleep.

Y/n

Is there something on your mind that’s keeping you up?

Me

the only thing on my mind is you.

Y/n

Is there anything I can do to help?

Me

Can I come over?

Y/n

Of course. You’re always welcome here with me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second she says yes I jump out of bed. I almost forget to throw a shirt on before leaving.

Nobody’s pov

Nat is texting you again. She wants to come over and you don’t know what to do.

Of course you say yes. Why wouldn’t you say yes?

She’s amazing. Everything about her is perfect. But the only downside to this little fling you guys have going on is the fact that you have a heart. And you couldn’t help but to fall in love with her.

Of course you’d never tell her that.

Lately though, something about this has been bothering you. There’s this nagging feeling of dread every time you see her now.

And it only makes you feel worse. How can you dread seeing the girl you’ve fallen in love with?

She is on her way to your room as you are lost in your thoughts and the only thing you can think about is how she only wants you for your body.

At least that’s what it feels like in this moment. But you think back to all of the times after she had just given you mind blowing orgasms and every time she would look at you like you were the most important thing in her life. Then you’d fall asleep together and you’d wake up alone.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when there is a knock at the door.

The door cracks open and Natasha slips in.

“Hi”

She walks toward you and you say

“Hey Nat…”

She starts crawling on the bed towards you and says a simple but direct

“Want you.”

You smirk and say

“Yeah?”

She nods her head and says

“Mhmm. Couldn’t sleep.”

You pout at her in fake pity and say

“Aww did the tough Natasha Romanoff have a hard time sleeping because she’s all hot and bothered just from thinking of me?”

She rolls her eyes at you and says

“Shut it”

Smut starts about here

She leans in to kiss you and you let it happen.

She’s sucking you in. Again. And all you can think about in this moment is how she’s going to get her fill, clean up her mess, and leave.

Except she’s not really cleaning up her mess is she? She’s leaving you a wreck in your own mind.

“Hey. You alright there?”

You nod your head when Nat’s voice cuts through your head.

“Yeah”

She squints trying to analyze your body language, she knows something is off.

“Are you sure? You seem like you’re lost in space somewhere”

“I’m fine”

Your voice is soft and sweet. And the smile you shoot her is convincing. Her eyes are full of worry though. Soft and tender but caring and gentle.

“If you don’t want to do this you don’t have to you know that right?”

You furrow your eyebrows and says

“No I want this. I want you”

I want you to want me is more like it though

She continues with your consent and you two make out.

It’s sloppy and you can feel her heat radiating onto your skin making you feel hotter.

This heat is making you want to strip your clothes off.

So you tug at her shirt and she lets you take it off. Then she takes yours off while she’s at it.

Her lips immediately find your chest and she starts nipping and sucking your breasts.

It feels good so you think you might as well enjoy it.

Your hand finds home in her hair while the other holds her free hand.

After a bit more of this Nat decides that it’s time for her to move down. She starts kissing her way down your stomach and to your thighs. While she is moving down she is whispering into your skin.

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.”

This makes you try to hide from her by putting your hands over your face but she stops everything to pull them away saying

“Don’t hide your pretty face from me detka”

She kisses your hands softly and then moves back to her original place.

She looks to you for permission with a slight tug of your undies and when you nod she slowly pulls them off your legs.

Then she kisses her way back up and makes sure to stop at the scars that lie on your thighs from all those years ago. Making sure to give them extra attention along with your stretch marks.

It makes you swoon. But you’re horny now and you want her to hurry up so you move your hand back into her slightly sweaty hair and tug her softly to where you want her. She chuckles and says

“Eager now are we?”

You roll your eyes and say

“Hurry up you goof”

She smiles and says

“A masterpiece takes time honey bun. Be patient”

Her stupid poetry or whatever is a bit annoying but she doesn’t waste much more time.

She dive into your core and starts licking and sucking around your clit to tease you.

When she finally flicks her tongue over your bud it makes you moan softly.

The way she is eating you out is no different from all the other times. But something is different.

It doesn’t feel right. The things she’s doing to you are not making you feel like you normally would.

Smut ends about here

You start to overthink and the images of just now flow into your mind.

The way she looked at you when she asked if you were okay. Her eyes were full of caring. Not seeming anything like a fling would have ever done.

The way she whispers into your skin to remind you how pretty you are.

The way she kisses the scars and stretch marks so softly as if you are a piece of glass that could break any moment.

The way she called you a masterpiece

You snap back into the scene and you softly say

“Nat. Stop please”

She shakes her head while continuing her actions not realizing you’re actually wanting her to stop. Usually you beg her to stop when you’re getting overstimulated so she thinks that is the case. But you sigh and softly say your safe word

“Red”

She immediately stops everything she is doing and sits up.

“Are you okay? Did- did I do something wrong?”

Her tone is slightly shaky. As if she was terrified at the thought of hurting you or overstepping. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Natasha vulnerable in that way. Like a lost puppy. You shake your head a bit aggressively and say

“No no no it wasn’t you at all. I just.. I don’t think I’m in the right mindset right now for this. I’m sorry”

She shakes her head and touches your arm softly saying

“No don’t apologize. I’m glad you told me. That’s a good thing.”

Her demeanor switched back to being kind and stoic. There’s an awkward pause as you sit up and cover yourself with a sheet.

“Is there anything I can do for you in this moment?”

You think and say

“Um. You should- you should go. I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head and gathers her clothes and says

“No no. It’s okay I get it. You need some space. If you need anything I’ll be in my room”

You send her a tight lipped smile as you nod your head. She finishes dressing herself and then she slips out of the room but not without giving you a glance.

You’re not even looking at her since you’re spaced out.

Everything in her wants to reach out for you but she shakes her head to tell herself no silently and leaves to her room.

You huff out a heavy sigh and fall back onto your bed.

All of these thoughts are flooding your mind.

If she doesn’t love you then why does she do all of these things that make you think she does?

It’s just how she is. She doesn’t know anything other than this way of flirting. It’s how she gets what she wants.

That’s what you tell yourself at least.

You decide in this moment that you’re not going to let her have you anymore. She doesn’t deserve you if she doesn’t want all of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha leaves y/n’s room a mess. She ends up bumping into Thor on the way back to her room since he had just gotten back from his mission.

“Woah Lady Natasha, where are you going in such a hurry? Everything in order?”

She sighs and nods her head. He smiles and pats her shoulder not knowing what is troubling her. But they part ways and go to their respective rooms.

The second Nat is in her room she lets her walls down and fully processes what happened.

She was showing signs of not wanting to do it and she said yes regardless. Oh my god did I just hurt her? Is that sexual assault? She said yes. I double checked but she didn’t say no but that doesn’t mean she wanted it. Oh god. I sensed something was wrong but I let her say yes. I’m horrible.

I let her say yes because I wanted her to want me.

She’s never going to forgive me. I have to tell Clint. Wait. No. He’s not the right one for this situation. He would just go all dad on me, and I don’t need that right now.

Maybe I’ll tell Wanda. She’s a girl and gets things like this. But not right now she’s asleep. I’ll tell her instead of training. Y/n is supposed to train tomorrow so I don’t want her to get uncomfortable when she sees me.

The next day rolls around slowly. Natasha couldn’t get a wink of sleep that night. She finally fell asleep around 5 am though and woke up at 11 am.

Out of character for her. The team had Friday constantly checking her vitals just in case.

When she finally woke up she got slightly ready. But she didn’t care enough to make herself look presentable. Just brushing her teeth and changing into clean clothes.

All she could think during her time getting ready was y/n.

She’s like a drug and I can’t stop abusing it. But she must have noticed I love her. I just. I can’t imagine life without her. It’s like I am addicted to getting high off of her. Which is why I need Wanda’s advice. She knows y/n better than anyone.

Natasha walks into Wanda’s room to ask for her advice but unfortunately she’s nowhere to be found.

She looks around the room and checks the bathroom and closet for good measure. Still nothing. But as Nat is walking out of the bathroom to exit the room and search elsewhere she notices Wanda’s laptop screen.

What is on it makes her stop in her tracks and her feet change trajectory. Once she makes it to Wanda’s very cutely decorated laptop on the desk she takes a better look at the screen to make sure she saw it correctly.

It is a very noticeable picture of Nat and Y/n together.

Natasha tilts her head and decides a little snooping won’t hurt. After scrolling a tiny bit, she realizes that Wanda has a stockpile of pictures of Y/n and Nat together with little labels.

The head title of the file reads

They’re in love and here’s proof

Nat furrows her eyebrows and thinks outloud

“Y/n isn’t in love with me. Is she?”

After mulling it over with her own conscience (fighting with her conscience) she decides to send the file to her personal laptop and she leaves Wanda’s as it was.

She walks runs her happy ass back to her room and locks the door.

She opens her laptop and takes a deep dive down into this file.

Each photo has a little comment below them of Wanda expressing what she thinks about them.

It seems to be a lot of rage and vents…

(A/n: just wait 😭)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CAN NOBODY SEE HOW Y/N IS LOOKING AT NAT??? SHE’S HEAD OVER HEELS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wished I never promised y/n that I wouldn’t tell her secret to Nat. But I can’t break her trust. And she needs to do this on her own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once again. Y/n is googoo eyes for Nat and Nat is oblivious. Maybe I should devise a plan to tell Natasha without telling her. It’s not like I would break the promise if Nat happens to see a fake diary entry. Or maybe even the real thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What universe is Nat in??? She must be crazy to be a TRAINED SPY and not notice this woman’s love for her

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another day another reason to cry. Why can’t Natasha see how she looks at her? I swear Nat has a crush on her too. I definitely have less proof on that theory but I am like 80% sure because I’ve read her thoughts on accident and they were totally about y/n.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is the state of delulu I need to be in. If Nat can’t put two and two together now then she never will. But seriously. Y/n looks at her like she is the only girl in the world. It’s cute but Nat needs to open her eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Awwwww look at these two cuties. IF ONLY NAT WOULD OPEN HER FUCKING EYES AND SEE HOW CUTE THEY ARE TOGETHER

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ugh. I can’t tell anyone else so I guess this is just turning into my vent space. Y/n just came to me crying. She thinks that maybe she’s crazy. And she won’t let me convince her otherwise. She says that Natasha looks at her like she loves her but within an instant that look is gone and replaced with coldness. Idk what to do at this point.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now this… this is pure fluff. And the thing is. Y/n is head over heels. But she thinks Nat doesn’t even like her because Natalia won’t open her eyes to see the beauty she has right in front of her face! Ugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nat and braids go hand in hand. Y/n and Nat need to hold hands and JUST FUCKING KISS ALREADY

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Absolute total cuteness overload. This must be leprosy lice love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not them literally dancing to a love song. If only they knew. I hear both of their thoughts and someone needs to start praying for me because idk how much longer I can last. Some of the unholy ones are hard to handle. I try my best to block them out but I’m still learning how to control my powers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just friends my ass YOU’RE IN LOVE STUPID IDIOTS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last two entries throw Natasha for a loop though…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I just walked in on Y/n and Nat. I need bleach for my eyes but at least they’re together now. It took them long enough. Thank god they didn’t notice me though. That would have been an awkward convo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Update: I lied. Y/n just came into my room and told me how they have been friends with benefits for a few months. She said how she has fallen in love with Nat and she couldn’t do it anymore. So she broke it off with her and the look Natasha gave her broke her heart.

I wish Nat would open her eyes and get her shit together. Maybe none of this would have to be happening if she just got some balls and realized that she likes her too. I can see it in Natasha’s eyes.

Now I have to endure even more of this pain. Why am I hurting? It’s not even me whose heart got broken. I feel like I’m watching a movie and both of the characters are too stupid or blinded by their thoughts to realize that they could be together.

Maybe I should tell Natasha. What’s the worst that could happen? Natasha’s feelings aren’t returned and Y/n never forgives me for breaking her trust. Right. Nevermind on that thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last entry was from yesterday. When y/n broke it off.

There’s no way that it’s a coincidence that this file ended up in Natasha’s hands. Maybe a sign from whatever God is real.

Whatever it is. Natasha is grateful.

She knows that her feelings are returned and all she has to do now is get her girl.

But how?

Nat thinks and decides to just tell y/n rather than wait for some extravagant reason or plan to surface.

“Friday where is y/n?”

Friday responds with

“Y/n is just about to leave for a mission ma’am. You will find her at the loading docks for the quinjet.”

Natasha’s eyes widen. She has no time to lose.

She sprints out of her room in her messy clothes and almost plows through both Sam and Bucky on her way but she manages to avoid a crash.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She makes it to the loading dock right as you are about to board the jet and she runs up and yells

“Y/n wait!!!”

You look at her and quickly try to get on the jet faster. There is no way you’re about to face her right now. You can’t do it.

But the redhead is persistent. She hops into the jet before you can close the door and forces you to talk to her.

She is panting and slightly red from running which is weird. Her stamina is incredible. This run must have been rough or something.

Natasha approaches you with her beautiful green eyes piercing into your soul.

“What do you want Natasha? I have to go”

“I know! I know but please. Let me speak”

You sigh and nod your head to let her finish.

“I- I can’t let you go without telling you what you mean to me. You’re the one that I want to want me.”

Your eyebrows raise as she breaks her walls down completely, there are agents walking near so the thought of her being vulnerable indicates this is serious.

“And if- if you still want me then you have me because I love you Y/n and there is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do just to have you with me even for one more night.”

You roll your eyes and scoff saying

“You just want to get into my pants. That is what this is?”

She shakes her head aggressively and says

“No! No! Please I’ve been too scared to say it. I didn’t want to lose what we had. I thought that I’d be able to handle it. That having some of you was better than having none of you but you breaking it off made me realize that you mean more to me than I could have ever imagined”

The look on your face is shocked. You’re just so dumbfounded.

Your thoughts are running a thousand miles per minute and yet it took you forever to process her words. So while you’re processing her shoulders slump and she says

“I’m sorry. I thought you felt the same. But I shouldn’t have said anything. You can go on your mission now.”

She turns around and steps off the aircraft and gets about halfway back to the inside area when you finally click and run after her saying

“Nat!”

She barely has any time to turn around before you’re jumping into her arms. Thankfully though she is stable enough to catch you and not fall over.

The embrace is tight and hope filled but nothing is said until you turn your face towards her ear and whisper

“Baby I’m yours”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: I hope y’all liked it!!! I didn’t know where to end this so I chose a line from the song because that’s how I roll lolll

Masterlist

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @symp4nat @ale-estrabao

[licorice-tea]

You Feel Right; Stay A Sec

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: pining, yearning, wanting, and needing <3 no smut just fluff! kissing and smooching, just one mention of “going further”! reader is a heart pirate and likes reading :)

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: it’s been a while since i wrote something for my man (Law <3) so i had fun with this😇☝️inspired by lyrics from the song “Hostage” by billie eilish… i love writing based on songs, it’s probably bc i have music playing 24/7 in either my headphones or on a speaker, and i just love music! so it’s easy to get inspo or create scenarios while listening to it, yk? anyway, hope you enjoy! <3

I wanna be alone

Danger around every corner, piles of work, tasks demanding his attention, and crew members in need of their captain’s opinion are all sources of constant stress for one Trafalgar Law. It’s not that he doesn’t love being a surgeon; it’s his passion, nor his crew; they’re the closest thing he has to a family now. It's just that his battery in all aspects- social, mental, physical- is constantly drained.

The only things keeping him going are steaming cups of black coffee and the rare moments of quiet before he passes out on top of his comforter. And, no matter what form the momentarily relief from life takes, it most always comes when Law is alone. He prefers it that way, anyway.

Alone with you, does that make sense?

He prefers being alone, really. Which is why nothing about you makes sense. Right off the bat, Law has felt differently around you than others. He made an effort not to show that difference in opinion no matter how strong it came to be at times.

Times like now, where sleep eludes Law despite how damn tired he is. For whatever reason, all he wants is to hold something- no, someone… you. Law wants to hold you. Or maybe you could hold him, who cares about the specifics?

Law flips on his stomach and groans into his pillow. This is new territory. He’s never wanted someone the way he wants you. A partner to hold close on nights like these, or to simply be alone with.

I wanna steal your soul

He has considered, on multiple occasions, telling you how he feels. But Law would never actually do such a thing. It would be a complicated and messy affair, surely, thanks to your positions. (His as your captain and yours as his subordinate.) And he wouldn’t want you to feel like you had to accept his confession, either.

Still… he wishes you were his, in every way a person could give themself to another.

And hide you in my treasure chest

At least you’re on his crew. You’re always nearby, should he need you, which he often does. Sometimes, Law likes to call you into his office for a made up reason. “Y/n-ya,” he’d say, “give me a rundown on tomorrow’s conditions at sea.” Though you’re not the navigator of the ship, you still know plenty about seafaring, so you’d comply. Then he’d find some other trivial matter to discuss, or offer you a new book so you could later exchange thoughts on it. Just something- anything to keep you around as long as possible. It’s so much more peaceful with you.

I don't know what to do

But how to make your role in his life a more permanent one? Law hasn’t a clue. Tonight, like many others, you sit on a couch in Law’s office. Neither of you speak, but the atmosphere is calm and comfortable.

Or it should be. Law discreetly looks your way every few minutes, then every few seconds. His eyes follow the way yours scan side to side over a page of your book. From the lines of your jaw and neck, to stray hairs falling over the curve of your cheek.

The usually undetectable tension seems to be coming to a point tonight, and Law doesn’t know how to resolve it. But he wants to, almost as much as he wants you.

So, for once in his life, he moves without much planning. Law rises from his desk and crosses the room to sit beside you. He (stiffly) puts his arm around the back of the couch. Naturally, you give him a perplexed look- it’s not like Law to suddenly reach out like this, physically or otherwise.

“Good book?”

“Yeah, thanks for recommending it.”

“For sure.”

“…Is that all?”

He nods, then pulls his hat lower over his eyes. Silently, he makes a plan to abort this failed mission.

Luckily, you stop him and take the initiative.

To do with your kiss on my neck

Law lifts his arm back off the couch and over you. But, you gently grab his wrist before he can go any farther. “Law, is there… You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Again, he simply nods. A moment of silently staring into each other’s eyes passes, and he leans forwards extremely hesitantly. Your hand moves from his wrist and tentatively rests on his shoulder. Still, Law doesn’t break eye contact (for once in his life), continuing to lean forward at a painfully slow pace. So you allow your hand to travel up to the side of his neck.

“You can kiss me.”

He nods again slightly, “I know. I- I will.”

I don't know what feels true

At long last, Law places a featherlight kiss on the corner of your lips. It’s an unsure, awkward action, but welcome nonetheless. His lips linger on yours, not quite aligned for a moment. Despite your breath being held, you allow your eyes to close and savor the feeling. You want more than this chaste kiss from him, of course, but you’d take your time with it. Law isn’t the kind of man you’d want to have a touch and go experience with. No, he’s the kind the one that you want to savor. The one that you want to take your relationship slow and steady with as he wants, and as a result get to spend even longer in his company.

When he pulls away, you can’t help but smile. Law’s parted lips close into the gentle curve of a smile as well, his usual smirk appearing much more bashful. The two of you lean back into each other. Your noses are nudged and warm breaths mingle before your lips can meet again.

But this feels right, so stay a sec

Law realizes he’s never done this before; kissing. But now, he’s hooked. He still doesn’t really know if he’s doing it correctly; if you’re enjoying the experience as much as he is, but it feels good. Therefore, he must be doing something right. Plus you only pull away from him to take breaths before immediately returning your lips to where they belong (on his), which confirms his hopes.

What started as a sweet and slow kiss ends up becoming a much hotter make out session. Months of pent up attraction and feelings for each other spill over, out of your mouth into his (and vice versa.) He’s the first to swipe his tongue across your bottom lip and get you to open up, and proceeds to groan into your mouth in a way that’s surprisingly communicative of how strongly he feels. It gets to the point where, besides your hands roaming over each others backs, you feel that your saliva must also be permanently entangled.

But all good things must come to an end. You pull back completely so that you and Law are properly facing each other, rather than within kissing range. “Law, I… We should talk about this. Before we go any farther.”

His face heats up at the implication; he hadn’t even thought that far ahead, too lost in your sweet taste, warm skin, and soft lips to do so. He nods and just murmurs, “Okay, let’s just keep doing this.”

You agree and kiss him without another word.

Yeah, you feel right, so stay a sec

When you do both finally wind down, and are left as nothing but half-sleep puddles in each other’s arms, Law murmurs something unintelligible into your hair.

Silence passes, though you can practically hear the gears in Law’s head turning. Finally, he speaks his mind. “Don’t go.”

A smile graces your features. How pleasantly surprising it is to have your captain- possibly the most closed off man you’d ever known- asking for you to stay. Of course, you hum in negation. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

His arms seem to tighten around you- though whether it’s reflexively or to keep you close, you’re unsure. “Good.” Then, Law murmurs something unintelligible against you.

“Hm?” He can feel the vibration on your lips against the side of his face more than he can hear it. That’s how closely you’re pressed into him.

Law clears his throat. “You feel right.”

“So do you.”

[tatumrileyslover]

You Do It For Her

Capital Don’t Cry (Part Two)

Summary: Sejanus is tasked with mentoring the District Two female tribute, but plot twist :0 they're childhood besties, but it’s part two (the games era)

Pairing: Sejanus Plinth x Fem!District Two!Reader Platonic!Lucy Gray Baird x Reader

Requested: very

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: it’s the games so murder and shit, Jessup rabies era :/, Angst baby, reader and Lucy gray are besties, I’m such a Lucy Gray girly so she’s super prevalent in this fic, murder, not a whole lot of Sejanus in this, mostly in readers pov with two small pov changes

a/n: I’m so glad so many of you loved the first part, I’m so happy you’ve all been enjoying it, honestly it makes me so happy (also thanks so much for almost 1k on part one), I’ve had to break it into three parts so I’m sorry for making you all wait longer. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (I also somehow wrote the second half of the entire fic listening to the Wonka soundtrack and it helped but was very worrying)

Part 1 / Part 3

The harsh plastic seat seemed to dig into Sejanus, leaving an uncomfortable impression against his restless form. His blazer, adorned with the emblem of the Capitol, clung to him, its material feeling constricting, almost suffocating. Sleep had eluded him since that haunting moment when he last saw (Y/n), and thoughts of her, intertwined with concerns for Marcus, haunted his every waking hour.

In the buzzing atmosphere of the mentor's area, Lucky Flickerman's enthusiastic attempts to coax smiles out of the mentors for the flashing cameras felt more like an intrusion. The relentless flashes of light assaulted Sejanus's sensitive eyes, forcing him to squint against the intrusive brightness. The whole spectacle seemed detached from the somber reality he was living.

As Coriolanus approached and took the seat beside him, a familiar face in the sea of unfamiliarity, Sejanus couldn't help but find a fragment of solace. The camaraderie, however, did little to dispel the heavy cloud of uncertainty and anxiety that hung over him. Each mentor's forced smile, every attempt to portray an air of confidence, serving to convince everyone that they were certain that their tribute was going to win.

And so, as the photographers continued to capture the glossy facade of Capitol mentorship, Sejanus remained caught between the stark plastic of his seat and the weight of his unresolved fears.

Dean Highbottom, with his sly smirk etched on his sunken face, intercepted Coriolanus, halting him in his tracks. Sejanus strained to catch the words exchanged between them, but the cacophony of the producers' urgent shouts about the imminent commencement of the Games drowned out their conversation. Despite the muffled noise, Sejanus couldn't shake the feeling that his name had been part of that brief exchange. His attention snapped back to the screen in front of him, anxiety intensifying as the countdown to the grim spectacle began.

A feed slowly began to channel through, projected onto the screen was the tributes standing in a circle around the rumble of the arena. Weapons glistened in the centre of the cornucopia, the cameras slowly panned across the tributes as they anxiously awaited the countdown to reach its end. The screen was showing a section of the tributes. Lucy Gray stood looking around with intensity, her eyes drifting around the arena. Sejanus could see her desperately shouting at someone by her side. Her voice was extremely muffled. The camera slowly drifted over to her left, (Y/n) was collapsed on the floor, tears flooding her eyes. Her hands were clasped over her mouth, attempting to stifle her screams, while her glazed eyes were fixed on an unseen point beyond the frame. Lucy Gray desperately tried to shake her out of the trance.

As the countdown reached its final digits, the screen transitioned to its final overview of all the tributes. In the distance, something caught Sejanus's eye, sandwiched between two giant flags of the Capitol. A massive pole protruded near the arena walls, and from it hung a vaguely human form. The sun that beamed into the arena shone what looked like a spotlight through the collapsed roof. Sejanus sprung from his seat, squinting his eyes, focusing on the figure that had distracted him completely from the carnage. The alarm blared as Lucy Gray grabbed (Y/n), rushing towards a tunnel where Jessup awaited them. As the camera angle changed, it showed more of the figure. Sejanus felt his heart drop, rage rushing through his body he threw the chair at the viewing screen. He could contain his anger as he shouted infuriated by the needless display of violence.

"You're monsters! All of you!" Sejanus's voice echoed in the room as he glanced around, faces mostly unfazed. Arachne sat with a sly grin, observing his crumbling exterior. The cameras captured the entire scene, revealing the crucified figure, badly beaten and strung up with no way to defend himself—Marcus.

The deafening ring in her ears competed with the grotesque scene before her as the final cannon fired. (Y/n) forced herself to avert her gaze from Marcus's battered body, only to be met with a horrifying display of brutality. The faces of those she had been forced to live with for a week were now contorted into expressions of ruthless aggression, chasing down anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path. The once-subdued tributes had become brutal beasts, a disturbing metamorphosis fueled by the Capitol's insatiable appetite for bloodsport.

Reeling from the shock, (Y/n) felt a pair of arms encircle her waist, lifting her back onto her feet. Lucy Gray's words were muffled by the persistent ringing in her ears. Shaking off the disorientation, she grasped Lucy Gray's hand, allowing her to guide them toward Jessup, who slumped near the entrance of the tunnels. With urgency, (Y/n) pulled Lucy Gray along, leading her to Jessup's hunched figure. In that moment, she was almost glad the bombs had went off, otherwise she had no idea how to escape the vicious few in the centre of the arena.

Jessup remained almost motionless, his weakened state evident as a consuming fever drained his energy. Glancing back, (Y/n) observed Coral and her group closing in on them, displaying signs of weariness. They most likely seemed like easy targets. Lucy Gray urgently attempted to capture Jessup's attention, guiding him gently toward the safety of the tunnel. Just moments ago, (Y/n) had been paralyzed by shock, saved only by Lucy Gray's presence. As the group closed in on them, panic set in. (Y/n) turned to Lucy Gray, who hadn't made any significant progress in moving Jessup to safety. Throwing his arm over her shoulder, (Y/n) yelled,

"Quickly, help me carry him!" Lucy Gray nodded, mirroring (Y/n)'s actions. Aware of Coral's approaching threat, "They're gaining on us."

The entire sprint through the tunnel was extremely tiring, the adrenaline of being hunted began to fade as the footsteps behind them quietly faded, along with carrying the weight of someone almost twice their size. Jessup was passing in and out of consciousness, and lifting the dead weight of him really slowed the three down. Finding a small passageway inside the tunnel they reached a small space with some water running through it.

"We should rest up here for a while, just while Jessup here come back to," (Y/n) nodded at Lucy Grays statement, helping the half conscious Jessup to the floor, resting his head on her shoulder. (Y/n) tried to scoop some of the water into the palm of her hands and took a sip, it definitely wasn't the cleanest but it would do. Repeating her action she moved over the Lucy Gray,

"Here have some," she softly sipped some out of her hands before urging Jessup to have some. He just pushed her hand away, muttering something. (Y/n) held her now wet hand to his burning forehead. She knew that she couldn't leave him here, but she couldn't see him getting any better. Jessup had been off since they arrived at the zoo, whatever he had come down with, she was afraid it would take him. She knew that Lucy Gray wouldn't dare leave his side, they were in it together, they all were.

She wasn't sure how many hour had passed by since they arrived in their safe place in the tunnel. Jessup had fallen asleep a while back. Both girls agreed someone should stay awake in case of an ambush, (Y/n) agreed to stay up for a while, so Lucy Gray could rest. Everything was silent, occasionally broken up by the soft noise of the trickling water. Jessup was just getting worse, he had broken out in sweat and would thrash around in his sleep. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his form, her heart ached just looking at him. She just hoped he would pass painlessly. A soft yawn broke her gaze, Lucy Gray rubbed her eyes, a soft smile coming across her face.

"Was I out long?" A soft yawn broke (Y/n) out of her intense gaze, Lucy Gray rubbed her eyes, a soft smile coming across her face, "you weren't too lonely with me?"

"Not really, the sound of the water is kind of comforting ya' know," both girls giggled together, "I'm just kidding, Lucy Gray, I don't know what I'd do without you,"

Lucy Gray smiled softly, taking (Y/n)'s hand into her own, squeezing it softly. The room fell silent for a moment, the comfort that Lucy Gray's presence provided helped calm her anxiety by a tenfold.

"Listen Lucy Gray, I just want to say thank you for what you did back there, you didn't need to risk your own life to save me but you did and I'm really grateful for that." Turning to see Lucy Gray already looking at her, she squeezed her hand in reassurance.

"We're allies now, you gave me that healing balm to help Jessup and besides I trust 'ya, that's what friends are for, right?"

The arena was heavily guarded by peacekeepers, probably Dr. Gauls doing. Ominous red lights lit up the facade, casting a shadow onto the high walls. It was different seeing the building at night, it almost made Sejanus rethink his plan entirely.

He sighed, his hand nestled in his pocket, fingers delicately brushing over the breadcrumbs nestled within. His decision was clear; he had to find a way inside. The rear of the Arena was shrouded in quietness, and under the cloak of night, he stealthily slipped through.

The entire arena was cloaked in darkness, setting his nerves on edge. Each occasional creak or shuffle made him freeze in place, fully aware of the danger that surrounded him. Despite the risks, he knew what he had to do. Perhaps he'd even catch a glimpse of her. As he emerged from one of the numerous corridors leading to the center of the ring, the sheer scale of the wreckage unfolded before him. The broadcast to the Capital paled in comparison to the vastness of the scene, making him feel like an ant in the middle of the arena. Lamina perched atop the structure where Marcus had previously hung, fast asleep. Surveying the arena, all other tributes remained hidden from sight, and Sejanus realized that Lamina might be the one to end his life as he lay beside Marcus.

With caution, he advanced toward Marcus's lifeless form, maintaining a vigilant watch on Lamina and the dark surroundings. Marcus lay sprawled unnaturally on the cold concrete, one arm trapped beneath him, and his left leg bearing the evidence of a mangled impact. Sejanus knelt beside the fallen tribute, his eyes filled with tears he hadn't noticed, gently repositioning Marcus into a more peaceful pose with crossed arms over his chest. A solemn touch closed the lifeless eyes. From his pocket, Sejanus retrieved a small velvet bag, its contents a collection of breadcrumbs—a District Two tradition, giving the departed with the luxury of bread for the arduous journey that lay ahead of them.

He knew it was selfish to want to see (Y/n) one last time, if he called out for her and she came, he was just going to endanger her life. He didn't want that, Sejanus just wished he could kiss her one last time. He lost track of time just staring at Marcus's body. The arena was so peaceful at night, just the faint whistles of wind, lulled Sejanus into a false sense of security. The quiet crunch of gravel behind him made him go stiff, a tribute had spotted him. There was a claustrophobic silence, Sejanus teared up , thinking of his life back in Two, his Ma and (Y/n). His sallow breaths picked up once he heard the footsteps drew closer, screwing his eyes shut tightly.

"Sejanus!"

Quickly turning around to the sound of the harsh voice, deep down he wished it was her but he knew better with its deep inflection. It was Coriolanus.

"Coryo, you can't be here, you'll get killed," Coryo let out a loud scoff at his words, rolling his eyes at him. He moved forward to stand next to Sejanus,

"We'll both be killed with whatever stunt you're pulling, Dr. Gaul sent me in here to get you and if you're not back out with me, she'll kill your family and mine"

Sejanus looked up at Coriolanus from his crouched position, the red lights that were outside shone through the small gaps in the wall. It gave Coriolanus a menacing stature, compelling him to go forward. Coriolanus sighed softly, pulling Sejanus to his feet.

"If your tribute finds you out here dead, based on her reaction before, I highly doubt she'll last." Sejanus looked away, he could feel the guilt eating away at him. He was going to leave (Y/n) fending for herself, if she needed food or water he wouldn't be there to give it. It was selfish of him to leave, he would be condemning her to death. Coriolanus caught his attention again.

"At least do it for her,"

Jessup's condition worsened by the second, fading in and out of consciousness with alarming speed. Lucy Gray's worried eyes scanned his trembling form, and he seemed plagued by nightmares, soaked in the sweat that clung to Lucy Gray's undershirt. Refusing their attempts to offer water, he shook uncontrollably. Lucy Gray, lips pursed with concern, wiped the dripping sweat from his forehead. (Y/n) sighed heavily, her mind drifting to the time her mother fell ill. She vividly remembered sitting by her mother's bedside, unable to leave her, and the painful decision when her aunt couldn't afford to care for both of them. Ma Plinth, the Plinth family matriarch, had taken her in like a second daughter. Every week, with a basket full of goodies, Ma Plinth would walk (Y/n) across town to her aunt's house, nestled amidst the mountains. Lucy Gray's gaze shifted to (Y/n), and in that moment, they shared unspoken understanding.

"When my ma was very sick, Sejanus's family took me in, his ma used to come with me to visit her." (Y/n) moved softly down on the ground, kneeling next to Lucy Gray and Jessup. She really cared for Jessup and in his state, dehydration was the last thing they needed. "She was in a comatose state, we desperately needed to get her some liquid, so Ma Plinth, the doll, showed me this little trick."

The bottom of her dress, a fragment of a life she once knew, lay in tatters—blackened by dust and despair. She stared down at the remnants, clutching the fabric tightly in her hand as if holding onto the last echoes of her mother's presence. The room, cold and unforgiving, bore witness to her silent turmoil. The decision she was about to make would likely lead to her demise, but in the grand scheme of things, it felt inconsequential. Her mother, wherever she was, would have access to a television to witness her rebellious act. As she mustered the courage, a resounding ripping noise filled the concrete room, prompting a gasp from Lucy Gray, who instinctively grasped her hand to intervene.

"Oh darling, you don't need to do that-" (Y/n) cut her off lifting her hand off.

"But I do, Lucy Gray, I hate to say it but I fear Jessup won't last much longer if we don't do anything, and it's not like she can do anything about it now." She grinned as she finished ripping the final piece of the dress. Submerging it in the small stream of water that was beside them, to clean off the dirt. Squeezing out the excess water, and softly placing it over his mouth, trying to hydrate him in anyway possible. His eyes fluttered slightly, his eyes filled with panic, snatching the wet rag off his mouth and throwing it across the room.

Lucy Gray concerned, moved beside (Y/n). What was wrong with him? He desperately wiped at his lips, trying to dry them of the water before pointing an accusatory finger at both of the girls.

"Are both of you trying t' poison me?"

"Of course not Jessup, we- you're just dehydrated, we're trying t' help you!" Lucy Gray spluttered out a response as Jessup neared the two threateningly. His hands met her chest as he pushed her to the ground. Her hands flew back to try to cushion her fall.

"I know the two of you have something planned." He turned his sights to (Y/n), who had reached down to help Lucy Gray to her feet.

"We got to go Lucy Gray," she whispered quietly as she examined Jessup again. In the corner of his lips a foamy substance began to show. Rabies. Those stupid fucking rats. (Y/n) grasped Lucy Grays hand tightly pulling her quickly out to the tunnel.

"Run!"

The tunnel felt never-ending, her lungs burning with each gasp of breath, and her feet aching as they harshly pushed against the concrete. Hand tightly holding onto Lucy Gray, she wasn't going to let her go, not after everything she had done for her. Pushing harder off the rubble as a small glimmer of light began to shine through. Jessup wasn't far behind them; his thundering footsteps echoed in her ear, he was gaining on them. Stepping out into the arena, the light burned her retinas; they hadn't seen the sun in god knows how long. Quickly scanning the arena, she spotted one of the Capitol flags laying on the ground, blood pooled out from underneath it. Panicked, she quickly dragged Lucy Gray across the arena.

Some of the stands had crumbled, leaving piles of rubble stacked upon them. If she could somehow lift Lucy Gray onto them, she could make her way over to the private boxes; she could climb up to safety. If (Y/n) could help her up before Jessup got to them, she could scale her way up. They would be safe in the box. (Y/n) had no doubt that Jessup was strong, but she doubted he could rock climb up to them. District Twelve was known for their coal mining, and she doubted he could climb up a wall. Not that District Two was either, but the countless hours she spent with Sejanus out in the mountains helped a lot.

As she lifted Lucy Gray up to grasp the railing of the stands, she glanced back at Jessup as he stalked behind her, he didn't look like himself. His complexion had turned grey, the sweat on his skin glowed as the sunlight beamed in through the arena, foam dripping down his chin. She forced herself to look away as Lucy Gray pulled herself into the stands, reaching her hands over the railing to pull (Y/n) up.

She dragged Lucy Gray to the back of the stands near the box, it sat high up on the wall but the large mound of rubble that lay beside it seemed scaleable, at least for (Y/n). Lucy Gray backed up against the wall, desperately searching around the stands for a way to escape Jessup, as he made his way up to them.

"There's nowhere to go, (Y/n)!" She clutched desperately at her hands, the skin of her hands were rough, she flinched slightly from the friction against the cuts on her palms.

"Listen, I'm going to give you a boost up this piece of concrete and just climb into that box above us, ok?" (Y/n) cupped her cheeks, her eyes filled with tears as she nodded softly, glancing back at Jessup who now stood menacingly at the bottom of the stands. Her eyes glanced back into (Y/n), as her tears fell down her face.

"What about you?" Lucy Gray's hand moved to cover the hand on her cheek, "it's too high for me to help you up!"

"I'll find a way up to you, darling," (Y/n) softly wiped her tears away, Lucy Gray pulled her into her embrace, just in case.

"Please come back to me."

"I will. Now quickly, he's on his way!" Lucy Gray lifted her foot into (Y/n)'s intertwined hands, placing her hands on her shoulder for balance, she nodded as (Y/n) boosted her up. She grasped the edge, pulling herself up onto its jagged surface. (Y/n) watched as she made her way into the box to her left. Jessup had reached the top of the stands, he stood opposite her. He looked like the capitals perfect victim, forced to play this demented game, transformed by the games into a paranoid, disease-ridden killer.

Turning around quickly to work on climbing up the concrete, fingertips grasping onto small ridges that were created by the collapse. Jessup realised what she was doing, she could hear him running towards her. She made quick work climbing up the block, her fingers were screaming in pain as she gripped the ridges trying to pull up her body weight. One hand reached the up towards the top edge of the concrete, her fingertips grazed the edge. The second (Y/n) got a proper grip on the ledge, she felt a hand grip around her ankle. She tried to shake her ankle from his grasp but he was too strong, he was unwilling to let her go.

One harsh tug sent her tumbling to the ground, hitting her head on a seat as she went down. He picked her up and threw her towards the edge of the stands. She struggled to raise her head, the blow she got to her head made her feel weak, maybe, just maybe this was her time. She’d done good deed by helping Lucy Gray escape him. She just hoped Sejanus wasn’t watching, she didn’t want him to see her go this way. Her eyes fluttered open. Jessup walked menacingly towards her, tears welled up in her eyes, this wasn’t him. Slowly she stood up, her balance was uneven, the ache in her head clouding her vision, but her eyes remained unwavering on Jessup. A soft thud averted her eyes, Lucy Gray had dropped down to try help her.

“No,” (Y/n) whispered softly, she shook her head to try to get her to stop whatever she had planned. Her eyes returned to Jessup who seemed to be looking at something in the distance. There was a faint whirring sound behind her, she turned her head slowly as to not alarm Jessup, her eyes didn’t leave him until he left her peripheral. By that time the whirring grew closer, (Y/n) got a quick glance of what looked to be a drone carrying something. It flew straight past her shoulder and crashed into the wall behind them. Water exploded across the stands. All three of them stood frozen, staring at the dark stain the water created on the concrete.

Lucy Grays head turned back to face the two, but her eyes were looking passed them, her eyes grew wide. More whirring noise came from behind them, it was louder than the first. Maybe it was Sejanus trying to help her out? She began to turn her head towards the sound, when she heard Lucy Gray cry out.

“DUCK!”

(Y/n) fell to the ground, they were a lot closer than she thought. Jessup was still facing the wall in shock. The drone crashed into the stand beside him, sending the water all over him. He started shaking uncontrollably, his eyes wide with terror as the water drenched him. The realization hit him that the very thing he feared the most was now inescapable, and he screamed, his voice a mix of fear and desperation echoing through the arena. (Y/n), paralysed by the unfolding scene, could only watch helplessly as Jessup's irrational fear became a harsh reality.

Most of the drones veered toward the wall, near where Lucy Gray had crouched behind some seats. A few strays hit Jessup as he attempted to flee, reaching the edge of the stands to clamber down. But the drones were quicker.

As (Y/n) lay on the floor with her eyes tightly scrunched, she heard a loud crash and a thud. Opening her eyes quickly, she saw Lucy Gray standing from behind the seats, a hand covering her mouth with tears falling. (Y/n) shakily got to her feet before slowly turning and glancing over the edge. She gasped – he had fallen from quite a height, but that wasn't what killed him. A blade from the drone had impaled his stomach, and blood pooled around him. She had to look away from him.

(Y/n) felt a soft pair of arms wrap around her waist; it was Lucy Gray. She buried her head into the crook of (Y/n)'s neck, and (Y/n) could feel the tears wetting her skin. Turning around, she embraced Lucy Gray tightly, offering any semblance of comfort she could provide. Lucy Gray sobbed harder into her chest, and (Y/n) couldn't help but let a few tears fall as well. She might not have known Jessup as well as Lucy Gray, but he had protected them with his life, even if it was unintentional.

“Thank you,” Lucy Gray whispered softly, they had made their way back to the box, it was safe for now. (Y/n) held her tightly to her, she was so still she had assumed she had fallen asleep. (Y/n) turned to her softly stroking her hair, confusion filed her face. “For what?”

“For keeping your promise.” Lucy Gray intertwined their fingers giving her a small smile.

“I’d do anything for you Lucy Gray, I mean it.” She squeeze her hand tighter at her words. “Now, you go get some rest, you deserve it.”

Lucy Gray rested her head on her shoulder, slowly falling into slumber in the safety of (Y/n)’s arms.

(Y/n) cared deeply for Lucy Gray, as if she were her sister. She proved that tenfold when she sacrificed herself to help Lucy Gray up to the box. She didn’t deserve to be here, but then again, none of them did. She knew if it was Sejanus in her place, he would had done the same.

Her mind began to wonder back to the drones, some part of her wished that Sejanus was the one to send them, that he was watching and wanted to protect her. But she knew better than that. The drones didn’t start coming until Lucy Gray stepped away from safety, until she jumped down the concrete block, until she was standing behind Jessup. Coriolanus was a passionate mentor, she could tell the moment she laid eyes on him. He stunk of desperation. He wanted to win, so he saved both their lives to save hers. Selfishly she wished Sejanus was watching, that he was sending her gifts. But she knew that seeing Marcus in that state most likely made him quit so he wouldn’t have to see her die the same way. Her eyes welled up, all she wanted to do was embrace him, seek comfort in his arms that she hadn’t gotten since she was in District Two.

She wanted him to do it for her

Taglist: @nolanbiigfishboi @0liveleaf @valterras @daisydark @writing-fanics @cdragons @anonoussy @deems-16 @prettysbliss @hollyskywalker @dilucpegg3r @ennycutie @mymadokamagica @kenj1sl0v3r @melodveis @paramorelvrr @gayandfairycore @huang-the-geek @evanpetersmood @teen-antisocial @just-a-blue-nerd @bigsimperika @ietss

[ju-vondy]

Into Jason's mind (Headcanon scene)

So, after the release of EP 4 I couldn't stop wondering the reason Jason prefer not commit to a long-term relationship and how he would react when he realize Candy was breaking that barriers down... So I wrote this for the chap. 20+- in my fic and I just HAD to share with you all. I didn't post the fanfic yet once I'm still waiting AO3 invite me LOL. But here you go, I hope you enjoy it:

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Jason was sitting on the sofa in his luxurious apartment, the dim light from the modern lamps casting soft shadows on the walls. He held a glass of whiskey, slowly swirling the amber liquid, lost in his thoughts. The night was silent, interrupted only by the occasional sound of distant traffic.

He glanced at the clock on the wall: 2:45 a.m. Sleep was something that had been eluding him lately, especially with Candy dominating his thoughts.

Jason ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. The goals, contracts and meetings that once occupied his mind so easily now seemed insignificant. His mind wandered incessantly to Candy, to her smiles, her expressions of determination, and even to the moments of vulnerability that she rarely let show.

Looking around, he realized how his personal space was carefully designed to reflect success and control. However, the emotional emptiness remained unchanged.

Jason picked up his phone and, on an impulse, opened Instagram. He looked at his recent posts: several photos of him at social events, with different women by his side. He recalled Thomas's words that he had overheard while the Devenementiel team gathered at the Cosy Bear Café: "Jason is a womanizer…" “He doesn’t seem to commit to his relationships…”

That was true. But why?

Releasing a deep sigh, he leaned back further on the sofa, closing his eyes. His mind drifted back in time, reliving memories of past relationships. Then he remembered the first time he decided not to commit: He was young, ambitious, and... In love with an older woman who had promised to be his partner in life and in business. But she betrayed him, both emotionally and professionally, ruining not just his heart but also an important business transaction.

After that, Jason vowed never to let anyone get that close again. Long-term commitments brought risks he couldn’t afford. He built a life where control and independence were paramount, and where women were only temporary distractions, never real threats to his heart or business.

Moreover, he didn’t have time to dedicate to a partner. His work consumed every second of his day, leaving little room for anything else. And children? The idea of being a father was a responsibility he couldn’t, and didn’t want to, assume. Kids are absurdly expensive and need time, patience—things he couldn’t offer in the phase of life he was in.

Jason also couldn’t ignore the fact that most of the women he met were shallow. They played hard to get, but as soon as he showed some sign of value, some symbol of status, they yielded instantly. Candy, however, was different. Candy never yielded. She challenged him and… That intrigued and attracted him in a way he couldn’t ignore.

She disarmed him with her intelligence, her strength, and paradoxically, with her vulnerability. He remembered how he felt when he saw her wearing glasses for the first time, how that unexpected sight affected him more than it should have. Jason stood up and walked to the window, looking at the illuminated city below. The view was something that always calmed him, but today, even that couldn’t soothe the restlessness within him. Candy’s presence in his life was starting to make him question his decisions.

What was most frightening wasn’t the desire he felt for her, but the fact that he wanted more than just a fleeting affair. He wanted to know her better, wanted to be by her side, wanted to hear her bad jokes, wanted… Commitment.

“Why does she affect me so much?” he murmured to himself, his thoughts returning to the last time he saw her.

They had met at the tennis club last weekend. He still remembered how his heart skipped a beat when he saw her with sunglasses and a hat, an unexpected and incredibly attractive sight. And then, during the match, the moment they bumped into each other and he offered his hand to help her up. The connection he felt at that moment still haunted him.

In fact, all the other moments haunted him. Even though he had shared a bed with several women in recent months, it was always Candy he found himself thinking about. The first time he kissed her in the garden, that night when the explosion finally happened and they released all the tension between them as their naked bodies engaged in heady movements. And then, at the Snake Room, the electricity between them was almost unbearable. The heat and urgency of that moment still made him shudder.

At the opera, the tension between them was so palpable that he could barely focus on the performance. And later that night in his apartment… their bodies fitting perfectly, the way she knew how to touch him in ways he didn't even know he needed. Every encounter with her was a whirlwind of emotions and sensations.

Jason closed his eyes, remembering the conversation with his mother he had earlier.

Since the moment their families reunited again she encouraged him to bring Candy closer, seeing something he tried to ignore. He accepted the mayor's proposal for a partnership with Devenementiel not only for strategy but also to keep Candy close. At first, he told himself it was to destabilize the competing company. But now, the truth was becoming increasingly clear: he wanted Candy by his side for much more personal reasons.

Jason walked to the desk in his bedroom, opening the drawer and taking out a small wooden box. Inside, there was a ring he had bought years ago, intended for a proposal that never happened. A reminder of his failures and fears.

“Candy…” he murmured, closing the box and putting it back in the drawer.

He needed to admit to himself that all this had started as a game. He wanted Candy to accept his job offer to screw up over Devenementiel again, but in the process, he ended up getting lost. She was not just a pawn in his corporate game anymore; she was someone who made his life more complete, more vibrant and his days became easier when she was around. She was someone he didn’t want to lose.

And he hated to admit it.

Jason stood up again, taking the glass of whiskey and heading to the terrace. The cool night air enveloped him, bringing a momentary sense of clarity. He looked at the stars, remembering how his life seemed simpler before Candy entered it. But now, he couldn’t imagine going back to that simplicity.

He knew he was at a turning point. Continuing with his usual behavior meant losing the chance at something real, something he hadn’t felt since… well, since forever. But opening up meant exposing himself again to pain, to risk, to vulnerability.

Jason took a long sip of the whiskey, feeling the warmth descend his throat. He needed a new approach, a new way of thinking. Maybe, just maybe, Candy was worth the risk. Maybe she was different. He just needed the courage to find out. Because, in the end, he was falling for her. And that was the truth he could no longer deny.

This realization hit him hard.

“Damn, Candy,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair. “What have you done to me?”

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PLEASE DO NOT POST IT ON OTHER PLATFORMS without giving credits! This is all my original writing and I would hate to see anyone use it without my permission. Thank u <3

[cnnmairoll]

PSPSPSPSPSPS MAI- could I request something very cute and fluffy about holding Dan Heng and Sampo for the first time (separately)? My boys deserve some cuddles and I would love to know how they'd react to being held 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hugging Them for the First Time

Character(s) : Dan Heng, Sampo Koski Genre : Fluff a/n : tysm vi for requesting, I'm gonna count this as my first request :')) I could not bring sampo to justice, I had an idea in mind but when I wrote it out is a bit eh,, you'll see for yourself. But I hope you liked it!!

In the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the windows of the Astral Express, you found yourself tossing and turning in bed. Sleep seemed to elude you, and as the minutes ticked by, you realized that tonight was going to be another one of those nights when rest was hard to come by. An idea struck you - maybe a book would help lull you into slumber. And where better to find an intriguing tome than Dan Heng's personal collection?

With careful steps, you padded down the corridor to Dan Heng's room. The train's gentle swaying seemed to rock you in sync with your heartbeat. You pushed open the door, revealing the sanctuary of knowledge he had meticulously gathered over time. The sight of your tall, enigmatic boyfriend sleeping soundly added a layer of warmth to your heart, even as you tried to suppress the fond smile tugging at your lips.

As your fingers brushed over the spines of his books, a subtle shift in the atmosphere alerted you to the fact that something was amiss. Your attention snapped back to Dan Heng, only to see his peaceful expression contorting into one of distress.His brows knitted together, and faint lines of distress etched across his features. It didn't take long to realize that he was trapped in the clutches of a nightmare.

With a pang of worry, you abandoned the book and approached his bedside, your heart aching at the sight of his inner turmoil. "Dan Heng," you whispered, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and giving it a slight shake. "Dan Heng, wake up."

His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he seemed disoriented, lost between the dream world and reality. As his gaze focused on you, his tense expression softened, but remnants of unease still lingered in his eyes.

"Hey," you murmured, your voice soothing as you continued to stroke his arm. 

He blinked a few times, his breathing gradually steadying. "Y/N?" he rasped, his voice rough with sleep.

"Yeah, I'm here," you assured him, offering a gentle smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Dan Heng's lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze dropping to his hands. "It's… it's nothing."

You knew better than to push him when he wasn't ready, so you simply nodded, letting him know that you were there whenever he was ready to share. Instead, you extended your hand, an unspoken invitation for him to take it. With a hesitant yet yearning look, he accepted, his fingers intertwining with yours as if seeking an anchor in the tempest of his thoughts.

Wordlessly, you guided him to sit up, allowing his gaze to meet yours fully. "Well, I was actually in here to borrow a book," you confessed, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

His lips quirked up ever so slightly, a small spark of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Couldn't sleep?"

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, you know me too well."

"Which book caught your interest?" He asks

You showed him the book you had chosen, and his eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Ah, that one. It's quite the adventure."

As you settled onto the edge of the bed, the two of you began to discuss the book. The initial tension from the nightmare seemed to dissipate in the comfort of your conversation. Dan Heng's reserved demeanor gave way to a more relaxed and animated side that only seemed to reveal itself when he was alone with you.

Hours slipped by as you delved into the story, trading insights and theories, your voices carrying through the quiet room. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Thank you for being here."

In that moment, you saw beyond the distant stars of his exterior, past the enigmatic aura he projected. You saw the wounded soul yearning for solace, for connection. Without further hesitation, you opened your arms, inviting him into an embrace that promised safety and comfort.

He hesitated for a heartbeat, his eyes searching yours for any signs of rejection. But what he found was acceptance, a fierce determination to stand by his side, no matter the darkness that sought to envelop him. With a shuddering breath, he folded himself into your embrace, his arms encircling you as if he feared you might vanish if he let go.

In that moment of rescuing embrace, you held him as he clung to you, as if he were an anchor in the stormy sea of his past. The minutes ticked by, the world outside fading into insignificance as you shared a space that was solely yours, a haven within the Astral Express where time held no sway.

In your established relationship, you had discovered the layers that made up Sampo – the mischievous twinkle in his eyes when he was concocting a new scheme, the genuine laughter that bubbled up when you shared an inside joke, and the way his gaze softened when he thought you weren't looking. It was a connection that defied the norms of the marketplace, a love that had bloomed amidst the trade negotiations and bustling crowds.

But there was one thing that intrigued you about Sampo, one challenge you couldn't resist: his penchant for surprises. Sampo thrived on keeping people on their toes, and he was a master at catching others off guard with his quick wit and unexpected revelations.

And so, the idea was born. You decided that you would surprise him with an embrace, a warm and loving hug that would leave him speechless. It was a challenge you eagerly accepted, knowing that it would take careful planning and impeccable timing.

The scene was set. You found yourselves in a quiet alley tucked away from the vibrant chaos of the marketplace. The occasional echo of distant haggling reached your ears, but here, you and Sampo were cocooned in your own world.

Sampo was in the midst of spinning a tale about a particularly cunning deal he'd closed last week, his eyes gleaming with that trademark mischief. As he laughed, you felt a warmth swell within you. 

You circled him, your steps soundless, until you were right behind him. With a sudden burst of courage, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into an embrace he hadn't seen coming. The world seemed to hold its breath as you held him, your heart racing as his voice caught in his throat. Time stood still for a moment, and then he chuckled, his laughter rich and melodious.

For a moment, the world stood still. Sampo froze, his animated storytelling coming to an abrupt halt. Then, slowly, his laughter transformed into a low chuckle, and he leaned into your embrace. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he exclaimed, his voice a delightful mixture of astonishment and amusement. "Is this how you plan to do business, my dear?"

You felt the rumble of his laughter against your chest, and you couldn't help but chuckle too. "Just thought I'd catch you off guard for once," you teased, holding him a little tighter.

Sampo turned within your embrace, his arms encircling you in return. His gaze held a mixture of affection and playfulness. "Ah, my heart," he said with mock seriousness.

Sampo turned in your arms, his gaze softer than you'd ever seen it. With a tender look, he brushed your cheek with his thumb. "You've managed what very few could. Congratulations on surprising the great Sampo Koski." he said, his tone a mixture of affection and admiration. "But do you know what this means?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What?"

He grinned, that wolfish smile that always sent shivers down your spine. "It means I'll have to up my game, of course."

And so began a delightful back-and-forth between you two, a dance of surprises and embraces that spanned days, weeks, and months. Sometimes it was you surprising Sampo with a hidden gift or a witty retort. Other times, it was him whisking you away to secret corners of the marketplace, unveiling hidden gems and forgotten stories.

But amidst the laughter and playful banter, there was one constant – the warmth of each other's arms. Often, in the quiet moments when the world faded away and it was just the two of you, Sampo would pull you close, his embrace a sanctuary of love and belonging.

"We should do this more often," he murmured, his voice a soft melody that resonated deep within you.

And in those arms, surrounded by the tapestry of a love that was as vibrant and unpredictable as the marketplace itself, you knew you had found your place of belonging. With Sampo, every surprise was a gift, and every embrace held the promise of forever.

nurtured with the silver-tongued merchant who had become your partner, your confidant, and your greatest surprise of all.

[in-search-of-a-fallen-star]

the choice of hercules

Pairing: Mainly Gojo/Reader, hints of Geto/Reader

WC: 6,361 (I have no explanation for myself)

Content Warnings: This does contain NSFT smut. There are no pronouns for the reader, but they are described to have breasts and a vagina during the smut. The reader is also hinted at losing their virginity during the smut. There are also themes of yandere behavior from both Geto and Gojo, but it gets pretty overt towards the end.

This is a part 2 of my piece The Fall of Icarus, that I wrote for @strawberrystepmom 's It Takes a Galaxy collab. You can find part 1 here. I do recommend reading it, as there will be lore and references in this that won't make sense if you haven't read part 1.

Speaking of lore, I really do play fast and loose with the canon for both Star Wars and JJK in this one, so I would not recommend reading this if you're looking for accuracy from either series.

Once again, thank you to the marvellous Miss Kendall for hosting such a fun collab, and encouraging me to take this from an outline to an actual finished piece. It really is an honor to participate in a collab with and hosted by such amazing and talented authors.

Minors and ageless blogs, DNI. If you don’t have an age in your bio or pinned I will block you.

In the darkest hours of the night, during the increasingly frequent evenings when sleep eludes you, you find yourself silently wishing that you had the strength to walk away. You can picture it; the weight of your saber leaving your hand as you surrender it to the masters, and the weight that would leave your shoulders as you walk away from the Temple for the last time. 

Those thoughts fade like frost in the warmth of the morning light. You take your time getting dressed, making sure that every layer sits perfectly. When you look in the mirror, you wonder who you would be without the armor of your robes and the title of Knight. You are willing to concede that the Order is not perfect, but for all its flaws it is your home and the only family you have ever known. The thought is a comfort in the wake of the despair of the night, and you know in your heart that no matter how deep the despair gets you will not walk away. 

Perhaps this is the attachment you have been warned about since you were a small child- the feeling of craving a home and the security that comes with it that you would do anything to keep it. You wonder if it makes you loyal, or just greedy. You reflexively reach for your comlink, preoccupied with the question you want to ask Geto.

Then you remember Geto left, and you let your arm fall limply to your side. 

You reach up to the phantom space where your pendant used to rest, the memories of your last meeting with Geto playing in your mind. Part of you wonders what would have happened, if you had taken the offer he had laid so temptingly before you. 

The details of Geto’s fall have become a closely guarded secret. Those files have a high enough security clearance that even you can’t access them. Gojo, who will normally tell you anything, just smiled when you asked and ruffled your hair, telling you not to worry your pretty little head. All you were told is that Geto was responsible for the death of an entire village, and you only have the confusing images left by your Force premonition to go on. 

You know something happened. Your premonition confirmed that much, and was further strengthened by the state Geto had been in when you saw him in that alley. The dark side leaves a mark on those who come into contact with it. You are still haunted by the sight of his eyes, glowing gold in the dark shadows of the alley. 

The only information that you’ve been able to glean in the months since is that Geto has been sighted with two young girls, and you’ve heard rumors that he’s started some sort of cult somewhere in the Outer Rim. For a moment you entertain the thought of getting in your ship and setting out to find him, but you are pulled from your thoughts by the sound of a knock at the door. You glance at the clock on your desk and realize that you’ve missed breakfast; someone must have come looking for you. You know it’s not Gojo, he would have just let himself in. You take a moment to recenter yourself, soothing your roiling emotions with the Force, then go to open the door. 

A young man with dark hair and white robes stands on the other side. You recognize him as Gojo’s new Padawan, and a new recruit to the Jedi. He had been discovered only a few months ago, and the overwhelming strength of his power made him dangerous to leave alone. Gojo had volunteered to take the young man under his wing and train him, much to the chagrin of the Council, but that was to be expected from Gojo. 

Yuuta pulls his hand back from where he had been about to knock again. “Ah, good morning! You weren’t at breakfast, so Master Gojo wanted to check on you- he would have come himself, but he was summoned to the Council, so he sent me instead,” he says, smiling and rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Good morning to you too, Yuuta. I’m sorry you had to come all this way. I merely lost track of time thinking about a case,” You pat him gently on the shoulder and move to step past him into the hallway. “Since I lost track of time, I’m afraid I’m late for my duties. Excuse me.” 

Before you can move past him, he grabs your wrist to stop you. “Master Gojo told me you’d say that. He also gave me specific instructions to make sure you went to the kitchens first and got something to eat before you go to the archives.” 

“Ah, that does sound like him,” you smile ruefully and gently pull your wrist out of Yuuta’s hold. “Well Yuuta, would you like to accompany me? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about our upcoming trip, and this is as good a time as any. I’m sure you must have questions.”

He brightens and falls into step alongside you. “I do have some that I’ve been hoping to ask before we leave. What is Dantooine like?” 

“The planet is mostly grasslands, so the view from the enclave there is like looking out onto a moving sea of green. The window from my old room there faced the sunrise, so I used to wake up before dawn to watch the sun come up and turn the clouds pink and the grasses gold,” you smile wistfully. “You can also see the brith playing in the clouds, and if you’re quiet you can get close and watch the piket graze the tops of the trees.”

“Oh, one thing you should be wary of when we go,” you turn to Yuuta. “The kath hounds on Dantooine are dangerous, and easily provoked. If you run into one, do not underestimate it.” 

He looks at you, puzzled. “I thought I was just going to study at the archives there?”

“You grew up in the underbelly here on Coruscant, didn’t you?” When he nods, looking confused, you explain. “It’s important for Jedi to explore many different types of environments, and Dantooine is about as different from Coruscant as you can get. The planet is peaceful, without the pollution and constant noise, but it can be just as dangerous. Part of your training while we’re there will be learning how to navigate an environment that is unfamiliar.” 

When his pale face gets even paler, you reach out and reassure him, both physically and through the Force. “Don’t worry, Yuuta. You won’t be alone while you’re doing this. I’ll be there to help, every step of the way. Think of it as a part research trip, part camping trip.” 

Some color returns to his cheeks, and you see him unclench one hand from the sleeve of his robe. “Ah, that’s good. Master Gojo likes to ‘let me figure things out for myself’, and I usually learn something, but I also usually end up seeing Master Shoko at the end of it.” 

Yuuta’s comlink buzzes. “Oh stars, I’m late for sparring. Maki’s gonna kill me,” he mutters to himself, reading the message. 

You shoo him off with a gesture. “Go, go. I’m sorry for keeping you. I’ll see you in a few days when we leave.” 

“Thank you!” he gives you a quick bow and turns to run down the hallway. 

“Good luck!” you call out after him. You watch him run for a moment, before turning back to your current mission of getting something to eat. The halls are quiet, with the comforting sounds of running water, murmuring voices from the classrooms, and the distant sounds of saber blades crashing providing a backdrop to your walk. 

You are startled out of your reverie by a voice. 

“It’s good to see you smiling again,” Gojo looms from the shadow of a nearby pillar, looking uncharacteristically serious. 

“I smile all the time,” you cross your arms defensively, watching Gojo warily as he approaches. Slowly, he walks you backwards, until you hit the smooth stone of a pillar. He plants a big hand on the pillar next to your head, while the other comes up to cup your chin, one thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip. 

“Those aren’t real,” he says dismissively. “I missed seeing your smile actually reach your eyes. What were you and my darling apprentice talking about that made you so happy, hmm?” 

You know he probably heard you, but you decide to indulge him in whatever game he seems interested in playing today. “He asked me about Dantooine. You know, the trip you asked me to take him on in a few days?” 

“Do you miss it that much? That just talking about it makes you glow like this?” he swipes a thumb over the ridge of your cheekbone. His eyes are covered by his blindfold right now, but you can still feel them on you, following every movement of your face. 

“It was my first home, Gojo. Of course I miss it,” you uncross your arms and make a conscious effort to relax. “My duties have kept me away for a long time, so it’ll be nice to go back, even if it is only for a few days.” 

Reaching out with the Force, you try to get a read on Gojo. He’s closed off at first, but when you make contact he opens himself up to you, just a bit. You get a taste of an anxiety so potent it makes your stomach churn, and the pieces click into place for you. 

The last time one of his friends had left on a mission, they didn’t come back.

Sighing, you reach up and thread your fingers through his silky white hair. You scratch gently at the nape of his neck, in the way that makes him practically purr when he seeks you out and throws himself down into your lap, demanding your attention after he gets back from a long mission. 

“I know where my duty is, Gojo. It’s just a few days, and then I’ll be back.” 

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll come back.” 

“I promise. I’ll make sure your Padawan comes back in one piece too,” you try a joke, attempting to lift the mood a little, but Gojo ignores it. He folds himself down even further, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his head into the crook of your neck. You feel more than hear him whisper something as he tightens his arms around you. 

You let him stay like that, his tall body folded down to wrap around your smaller one. It’s only when you hear the approaching voices of other Jedi that you begin to untangle yourself from him, pulling your fingers from his hair and pushing at him gently to try and persuade him to let go. He tightens his grip in response, and you swat at the back of his head. 

“Gojo! What if they see us?” you hiss at him, pushing more insistently. 

“Would that be so bad?” he pulls back a little, just far enough to see your face.

“This is crossing a line and you know it. It would risk both of our positions if someone saw.”

He finally pulls away from you, and the small window he’d opened for you in the Force shuts abruptly. He steps back, putting an appropriate amount of distance between you two, and reaches out to ruffle your hair. “Take care of yourself, starlight,” he says as he walks away, giving you a cheerful two fingered salute as the other Jedi come into view. 

You watch him leave for a moment, waiting until he turns a corner before you continue on your way to the kitchens. Your mind is racing, replaying the interaction in your head. It’s not out of the ordinary for Gojo to do this, but it is strange for him to be so clingy out where you could get caught. Normally he seeks you out either early in the morning or late at night, finding you in either your quarters or your small office in the archives, where he occupies as much of your personal space as he can and demands your attention for however much time he can hide away from his responsibilities. 

Your mind keeps circling back to the words he whispered into the crook of your neck: “If you don’t come back, I swear I’ll find you.” He’d left the door to his emotions open, but you didn’t need to look to know he’d been talking about you, and also Geto. His regret for not being able to save his best friend in time haunted his steps as closely as his own shadow. 

You could feel your own regret begin to creep closer, and you shook yourself physically and mentally. You’d spent enough time thinking about loss and regret today. You grabbed a quick meal from the kitchens and made it to your office, throwing yourself into your work.

That seemed to set the pattern for the week. Yuuta started seeking you out on his own, asking questions about the history of the Jedi enclave on Dantooine, and about the history of the Order in general. It seemed Gojo had taken a very hands on and practical approach to Yuuta’s training; his lightsaber forms and piloting skills had progressed far beyond anyone’s expectations. However, his education was a bit lacking, and you were happy to fill in the gaps and provide the young Padawan with anything he desired, whether it was information, guidance on Force techniques, or simply a quiet place to meditate. 

Gojo also began seeking you out more often, pulling you into dark corners just to hold you for a moment in between his meetings and assignments. He laughed off your questions, simply saying that he just wanted to spend time with you before you left. Even though he was demanding your attention in riskier and riskier places, and you knew he was hiding something, you found yourself unable to say no to him. Physical contact was rare amongst the Jedi, touch limited to a friendly hand on the shoulder or a brief touch in passing. 

There were moments that you found yourself craving the warmth of Gojo’s touch, the way the world narrowed to just the space of his arms. The more he touched you, the hungrier you felt- you knew you were walking a dangerous line but couldn’t find it in yourself to stop. You reasoned with yourself that it would just be for this week, you’d both get it out of your systems, and then things would go back to normal after you returned from Dantooine. So you let yourself indulge, ignoring the specter of Geto’s words from the last time you’d seen him. 

The night before you are set to leave for Dantooine, you wake up in a cold sweat. Your thoughts are a garbled mess, caught halfway between the waking world and dreaming. All you know is that Gojo needs you, right now. You’re still close enough to sleep that the world feels fuzzy at the edges, but you manage to throw a robe over your sleep tunic and make your way out into the dark and empty halls of the Temple. There’s no moon tonight, meaning that the halls are lit only by dim sconces, leaving you to fumble your way in the dark. You can feel Gojo’s presence drawing you in, like the crushing gravity of a black hole. 

You make it to his door, tapping out a code that you know so well it’s muscle memory. The door slides open and you practically fall into the room, looking frantically for Gojo. He’s in his bed, locked in the throes of a nightmare that has him convulsing in the thin sheets of his bed. The dim lights of the hallway shine on his sweat-slicked skin, making it gleam like alabaster before the door slides shut again, leaving you in blackness. You let the pull draw you to him, catching yourself on the edge of his bed. You almost fall forward, planting a knee on the edge of the mattress and resting your hands on Gojo’s chest. 

“Gojo, wake up,” you call, voice hushed but urgent. When he doesn’t respond, you push harder, shaking him as gently as you can. You open the Force connection between you two, and are rapidly overwhelmed by a deluge of images and sounds. You push through it, using your ability to try and calm the storm that is raging in Gojo’s mind. You catch some flashes of his dream before he wakes, coming to consciousness with a jerk. His eyes snap open, glowing electric blue in the darkness as he activates his powers in a self defense reflex. Your eyes meet for a second, his wide and wild as he begins to register where he is. 

He reaches a shaking hand up to you, trembling fingertips tracing the curve of your jaw, the line of your neck, and the delicate wings of your collarbone left exposed by the skewed collar of your sleep tunic. “You’re here,” he breathes, the panicked fight bleeding out of his body. You don’t respond, letting him calm down and also trying to sort through the fragmented flashes of his nightmare you’d seen before he’d woken up. 

Your attention is immediately drawn back to him when he sits up, a flash of movement and a blur of motion before you feel your back hit his mattress. His fingers are entwined with yours, pinning one of your hands to the pillow above your head. You can feel his other hand slip beneath your robe, the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of your sleep tunic as he runs his hand up and down your side. He leans down, and his hot breath on the sensitive skin of your neck sends a shiver down your spine. 

Gojo nuzzles your neck, tracing the line of it with the tip of his nose. He’s babbling something, but his voice is low enough that even in the quiet of his room you can’t quite hear what he’s saying. He seems to realize this when you stay silent, and he drags his head from the crook of your neck. “Please, let me have you, starlight. I need to feel that you’re alive,” he begs, eyes blown so wide that the luminous blue of his eyes is pushed to a thin ring around the cavernous black of his pupils. A thought echoes in the back of your mind; this is the first time you’ve seen Gojo without his blindfold since Geto fell.

Whatever had pulled you to his room has worn off, leaving you slightly dazed but aware of where you are. You cannot blame it for the feelings welling up under your skin, threatening to burst with each brush of Gojo’s skin. You know that the Code dictates that you should push him off, go back to your room, and meditate to drive this attachment away. You move to do so, and your leg brushes up against him. He makes a punched out sound, caught somewhere in between a filthy moan and a sob. You freeze, hands on his chest. 

“Don’t go,” he pleads, voice thick with an emotion you are afraid to put a name to. “Please, starlight, I need you. Let me take care of you.” He drops his head to yours and reaches for one of your hands, pressing it further against his chest. You can feel his heart pounding, racing like the engines of the speeders he loves to fly so much. “Please, stay.”

There are two thoughts at war in your mind. One is the Code, a creed you have had memorized for so long recalling the words is as easy as breathing. You know what the Code dictates, what it demands from you. From both of you. You also know what it has taken from you. 

The other is the fact that you are getting a second chance at something you’ve wanted more than anything- a chance to be close to someone you love. That thought stuns you for a second. Geto was your first love, a secret that you buried deep after he fell and swore to never dig up. You’ve been scared to face your feelings for Gojo because of that. You know what your feelings are, but have hidden from them out of fear, fear that they will lead you astray from your duty, from the oath that you swore when you became a Knight. 

In the face of Gojo’s desperation, you feel ready to voice those feelings. The closed door and the darkness around you makes you feel bold, finally ready to face a truth you’ve been hiding from for months now. Mind made up, you lean up, closing the scant few inches between the two of you to press your mouth to Gojo’s. He makes a broken sound, his hand moving to cradle your head as he presses closer to devour your mouth. He wastes no time pulling you as close as possible, tongue plundering your mouth. 

He sinks his teeth into your bottom lip before pulling away, resting his forehead against yours. He nestles himself between your thighs, hips making small, jerky movements against you, as if he can’t control himself. “It’s been unbearable, starlight,” he moans. “To have you so close and not be able to do anything. If only you knew how often my last thoughts at night are of you. I see signs of you everywhere, and each one makes me crave you in a way I can’t endure.” 

Gojo trails kisses from your lips down to your jaw, nipping at the corner of it and tugging at your earlobe with his teeth. His mouth keeps travelling down, biting and sucking at your neck. A soft moan stutters its way out of your mouth, and he shivers against you. “That’s it, starlight. Let me know how good I make you feel,” you feel his breath, cool now against the sheen of saliva on your skin. You feel him bite down, hard enough to leave a mark, just below where the collar of your robes sits against your throat. “There we go,” he murmurs, kissing the mark. “A secret for just us.” 

He retreats just far enough to give you space to shed your robe and sleep tunic. He touches every inch of exposed skin, hands and mouth on you like he cannot bear to be separated from you for more than a moment. He moans low in his throat when your breasts are revealed, pushing you back down into the mattress to bury his face in the soft mounds. You moan again as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, the sound high and sweet in the quiet of his room. The vibrations against your nipple of his answering moan make you squirm against him, and you thread a hand in his hair, unsure if you’re trying to keep him close or push him away. 

He releases your nipple with a pop, blowing teasingly against the spit slicked peak and laughing low in his throat when you squirm against him again. “You taste so good, starlight. I can’t think about anything else,” he moans against you. He slides a hand down, teasingly dragging his fingers down your skin to your folds, where he swipes a finger through the wetness that he finds at the apex of your thighs. He teases your clit with a finger, tracing nonsensical shapes over it until you’re panting breathlessly underneath him. He slides a finger in, and you cling to him at the sensation of him inside you. He adds a second finger, slowly working you open, moving his fingers and rubbing his thumb over your clit. You can feel something twisting in your gut, a molten heat that spreads from your center to the rest of your body. 

“I wish I could do this for longer, but I need to be inside you, starlight,” he murmurs. He brings his hand, still slicked with your wetness, to his shaft. He strokes himself a few times, before lining himself up at your entrance. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes, Gojo, please,” you beg, dragging your nails gently down his back. 

“Say my name,” he growls, pushing into you slowly. There’s a prick of pain as he enters you, but he reaches down to rub your clit and lets you slowly adjust. Once you open your eyes again, he grabs your hand and twines your fingers together, pressing into the pillow next to your head as he starts to move. 

“S-satoru!” you cry out, arching your back at the sensation of him inside you. 

“That’s it,” he encourages you, using his free hand to hike one of your legs further up on his back, opening you up to him. You can’t control the noises you’re making anymore, clinging onto him as he pounds into you. Gojo doesn’t  seem to be faring much better, squeezing your hand and scattering mindless kisses wherever he can reach as he sinks into you. “Come on, cum for me starlight.” He bites at your neck, and with a twist of his thumb on your clit you find yourself coming apart at the seams. Your back arches and you clamp down on him, pulling a deep stuttering groan from his chest. You feel him twitch inside you, and as your body relaxes you feel a rush of warmth inside you. He finishes with a long moan, dropping his head to rest in the crook of your neck. 

Gojo loops his arms around you and rolls over, letting you rest on his chest. You feel him press a kiss to your hair as he rubs a soothing hand up and down your spine. You move to get up, but his arms stay fixed around you. “Don’t leave,” he begs softly, his wide blue eyes staring up at you from his mussed sheets. You’ve gone this far, you decide. What’s a little further? 

“Okay,” you whisper, nestling back down against his chest. He hums happily and pulls you closer, and between the gentle caress of his fingers, the warmth of his skin, and the beat of his heart you find yourself drifting back to sleep. This time, your rest is peaceful, unmarred by dreams of any kind. 

You wake early, before the sun has risen. Gojo is still asleep, one arm loosely  around your waist. You take in your state of undress, and spend a moment thinking about what to do next. There’s no future for the two of you together. You know this. For that to happen, you would both have to abandon your duty, and you know Gojo is as unlikely to waver in his duty as you are to walk away from yours. However, you can’t bring yourself to regret anything. Slowly, as to not disturb him, you climb out of bed and grab your clothes. You dress quietly and turn back to Gojo before you leave, coming over to stand next to his bed. 

“Goodbye, Satoru,” you whisper, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. Then, you walk away, shutting the door quietly behind you. You are quiet as you return to your room. There’s not much to do to prep for your trip, but you find what you can do to keep your hands and mind busy in the short time between now and your departure. 

Yuuta greets you in the hangar, but seems to sense that you’re not up for conversation this morning. You finish your flight prep together, and take off a little before you’re scheduled to leave. As you leave the hangar, you see a flash of white hair on the ground. You know he’s down there, but you choose not to look, focusing on the sky above you and the stars beyond.

One hyperspace jump later, you and your temporary apprentice land in the Dantooine enclave. Once you step out of the ship, you are greeted by the familiar sights and smells of the first home you can remember. The enclave smells like sunlight on warm grass, and old parchment and ink. It feels like coming home.

You are greeted by Knights you remember from your days in the creche, and introduce Yuuta to them. They are instantly taken by the young boy’s earnest charm, and you leave them to exchange pleasantries for a moment as you walk, taking in the familiar sights. Your comlink buzzes, but you choose to ignore it. 

The both of you settle into your new environment quickly. Yuuta blooms like a flower under the doting care of the older archivists who are overseeing your work for the week, and spends every moment he can outside. After the first day, you introduce him to the wonders of the sunburn ointment the archivists of the enclave make for people who spend as much time out in the sun as he has. Your comlink has been buzzing regularly since you arrived, and you’ve taken to leaving it in your quarters, trusting the enclave masters to let you know if any important messages come through for you while you’re in the archives. 

Four days into your trip, the enclave gets a ping from a distress beacon deep into the plains. You volunteer to investigate, bringing Yuuta along to help him with his field experience goals. In the interest of urgency, the two of you share one of the enclave’s speeder bikes, and you track the beacon to a grove of blba trees far to the north of the enclave. You leave the speeder bike a safe distance away, and reach out with the Force to try and assess the situation. Strangely, nothing appears when you cast your net, which sends a cold feeling trickling down your spine. Making a sign to Yuuta to be quiet, you approach the grove. 

The beacon is embedded in the ground, flashing and beeping in intervals. There are no bodies around it, and after further investigation, not even signs of conflict. Your feeling of dread intensifies; either this is a simple prank or a trap, and your instincts are telling you it’s the latter. 

“Hello, little light,” comes a smooth, deep voice from behind you. You straighten, and turn. Geto stands behind you, dappled in light and shadow underneath one of the trees. His hair is longer, and he’s clad in unfamiliar robes. A strange saber hilt is strapped to his waist, though he makes no move to draw it. “I have been waiting for this reunion for a long time. But before we can be properly reacquainted, I must speak to your young friend here.” 

Geto turns to Yuuta. “Greetings, young Padawan,” he calls from across the glade. “I am glad to finally meet you. The rumors I have heard about you are simply fascinating.” 

You step in between them. “Stay back, Geto,” you warn, hand on your saber. 

“I came simply to talk,” he raises his hands in a placating gesture. He looks over your shoulder, where Yuuta is watching warily. “My name is Suguru Geto, young one. My goal is to liberate those blessed by the Force in our wide universe. Those blessed with gifts like ours should have people at our beck and call, instead of being at someone else’s disposal, don’t you agree?”

“We have our gifts to defend the weak,” Yuuta recites, taking a step back. 

Geto clicks his tongue. “So new to the Order, and already reciting their scripture. Think, young Padawan, how many more people would we be able to help, to save, if things were different? Don’t you wish Rika could have been saved?” 

You hear Yuuta’s gasp, though he tries to hide it. “That’s enough, Geto.” You draw your saber, finger on the ignition. “Don’t make me fight you.” 

Geto ignores you, continuing to look at Yuuta. “Will you join me, Yuuta Okkotsu? All I want is to make the galaxy a safer place, one where young ones like you don’t have to become soldiers, and one where girls like Rika simply get to live.”

You hear Yuuta waver. You refuse to sway his emotions- you know this is a choice he must make on his own. He takes a step forward and your heart drops for a moment, before you hear the sound of his saber leaving his belt.

 “I’ve heard stories about you too, Suguru Geto,” Yuuta says, leveling his saber at the man. “I’m not sure that your vision for the galaxy is not one that Rika would have wanted to live in.”

“What a shame,” Geto shakes his head. “If you will not join me, then take a message back to your Masters. Either they bring you to Malachor within a month’s time, or I will unleash what I have learned in my time in the shadows on both this enclave and the Temple on Coruscant.”

Your blade ignites with a hiss. “That won’t  happen,” you level your blade, the tip pointing steadily at Geto. “Yuuta,” you call the Padawan’s name without breaking eye contact with your former friend. “Take the bike back to the enclave. Tell the Knights there what happened.” 

“I can’t leave-” Yuuta begins, but you cut him off.

“Go, Yuuta. It is my duty to protect you and the rest of the enclave. Tell them what happened, and return with reinforcements.” You feel the boy’s emotional conflict, and you use your abilities to bolster his resolve. He hesitates for another moment, before nodding and clipping his saber to his belt. 

“I’ll be back for you!” he calls over his shoulder as he darts to the bike. The engine roars to life and you hear him take off over the plains. 

The only sounds in the glade now is the wind rustling through the tall grass, and the hum of your lightsaber, still ignited and leveled at one whom you had once sworn never to raise a blade against.  

“What a loyal dog,” Geto shakes his head. “This is not quite what I had in mind for our reunion. Though if you insist we come to blows, I will indulge you.” He unclips his strange looking saber from his belt, and the scarlet blade roars to life with a crackle. You set your feet in your stance, lifting your blade to meet his as Geto comes flying at you. There is a sizzle and crackle as the blades cross, sparks flying in your vision as you stop his swing. 

You push back, using a blast of Force energy to break his guard and swing at his weak spot. He manages to leap out of the way of your blow, his robes fluttering on the wind. Your blades crash together, his scarlet saber crackling with a strange energy. It shoots off sparks that burn your hands and face, and you find yourself on your back foot, trying to guard against his powerful swings. 

In an attempt to regain some ground, you take a risk and drop under one of his swings, the sparking blade flying just past the top of your head. As you stand up, you position your saber in the path of his momentum, hoping that you’ll at least be able to wound him.  

Geto chuckles. In a flash, he’s caught your saber hand, twisting your sword arm off to the side as his momentum carries you both to the ground. “I taught you that move, little light. I appreciate your resolve, but I will not be felled by such a trick.” 

You watch his gaze drift lower, to where the collar of your robes has loosened. “Oh, what’s this, little light?” his free hand nudges aside your collar, revealing the shadow of the mark Gojo had left on you several nights before. “Who could have left this on you, little light?”

Geto powers off the saber he has held to your throat so he has clear access to your neck. He leans down, delicately sniffing along the skin that still bears the marks from your night of passion. “It was our dear friend Satoru, wasn’t it? I can practically smell him on you,” Geto purrs. “I did tell you to indulge, I suppose. I wish you would have waited, I wanted to indulge in you first.” 

“What’s your game, Geto?” you ask. You wiggle your fingers, trying to subtly get a grasp on the hilt of your saber.

 He clucks his tongue at you. “Now now, none of that,” he grabs your saber and clips it to his own belt, out of your reach. “I told you my plan- I want the boy. I’ve given those fools at the Temple everything they need: a reason to doubt a boy they already fear, and now I have you. You think Satoru wouldn’t give up that little apprentice of his to get you back?” Geto strokes a hand down your neck, pressing his thumb into the healing bruise just under your collar. 

“I suppose the question now is, would I give you back for one apprentice?” he muses, looking down at you. He slides his hand up, grasping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “There’s something about you that just makes me want to keep you, my plan be damned. I doubt you’d mind, you’d just be trading one pretty tower for another. Either way, you’re very important to what happens next, and I can’t have you trying anything that would only end up hurting you. So, sleep, little light. You’ll want the energy for what comes next.”

Geto’s smile is the last thing you see before your eyes close, the power of the Force command dragging you under. You feel him lifting you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin, and then the darkness takes you.

[songbird-of-eden]

A CLUE?! The Missing Death Theory

Good Omens S2 SPOILERS below!!!

Okay, it has been the nocturnal habit of mine over the last 3 days to suddenly dwell on the Good Omens finale and scrutinise every detail in a sleep-deprived thought soup.

And apparently, tonight, my last two remaining braincells fired up their little engines and decided to put something rather interesting together.

One thing that got me when I watched the finale was the book that Muriel was reading. "The Crow Road."

So I decided to give it a quick Google, and realised the opening line of the book is one that Gabriel, or Jim, stumbled across earlier in the season. It goes like this:

"It was the day my grandmother exploded. I sat in the crematorium, listening to my Uncle Hamish quietly snoring in harmony to Bach's Mass in B Minor, and I reflected that it always seemed to be death that drew me back to Gallanach."

Now, you may be thinking, okay, but what does this have to do with anything? And you would be right to be confused, but hear me out.

Death has a major, reoccurring influence in S2.

Yes, we have the obvious coffee shop "give me coffee or give me death" reference (this has a major point that I will get to a little later, but please, bear with me). But that is not the only one.

Throughout each episode, Death has been raised and eluded by numerous characters. In ep2, Jobe's family were saved by our ineffable duo. In ep3, we have the incident with the graverobber and stopping her from calling it a day. In ep4, we have the rise of the nazi zombies. In ep5, our unfortunate fellow from the ball gets thrown to the demons and appears to die, only to make a reappearance later on in ep6, albiet looking a little nibbled on.

And then there's the fact that miracles, as Crowley points out, are measured in "the power required to raise people from the dead."

Still with me? Okay good. Because its gonna get a little more crazy from here. Time to break out the funky tinfoil hats.

So, yes, many of the characters seemingly ellude death, right? Not a big point at first glance, considering the upbeat nature of the show... until you consider this.

Whilst in the coffee shop, the Metatron asks whether anyone ever chooses death instead of coffee. A weird line to be sure - perhaps an awkward statement of an angel unsure of how to interact with mortals. Totally plausible, right? Well, what if it was a test?

Nina claimed to remember everyone by what they order, and replied that no one has ever chosen death. I mean, I would hope so, but what if Death was no longer a thing that happened?

What if our devious Metatron wrote Death out of the Book of Life, considering that Death is a being instead of a simple concept as shown in S1 - and so the Metratron was asking as a test to gauge Nina's response. To figure out if his alteration had taken effect?

Okay, yes. It sounds a little wild, but if that is not the case, it does not mean that something is not going on with Death.

Going back to The Raven Road book, the plot follows a boy in pursuit of uncovering the mystery around his missing uncle. So perhaps, it is not so crazy after all to believe that something, or rather, someone is missing.

Which leads me to another missing creature.

Remember that heartbreaking line from Crowley? "You hear that? No nightingales?"

It was the dagger in many fan's hearts, but potentially held another meaning. Because in the poem: "Ode to a nightingale", the bird is used to represent, to an extent, death. As well as the concept of immortality.

Which means it's disappearance may be signalling a strange shift in the world.

Which brings me to my final point. We are in the home stretch now kiddos!

The second coming. The Metatron's grand plan.

In biblical text, it states that the Second Coming will be a sudden and unmistakable incident, like "a flash of lightning".

Now, where else did we see lightning? Hmmm. What about Crowley's enraged outburst that sealed poor Maggie and Nina in the coffee shop?

Which makes their line an episode or two later even more interesting...

Maggie: "Did it all start with the lightning?"

Crowley: "No, way before that."

Does this mean that events were starting to be influenced and set in motion way earlier as the Metatron began to tinker in the book?

We also have the name of S2 ep1 being called "The Arrival" - a name the Second Coming is sometimes referred to as, along with the text: "For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel's call and with the sound of God's trumpet, will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise."

So, just take a moment to digest that.

An archangel's call. Well, we've had two of those - Gabriel calling on Aziraphale as well as Aziraphale being called to heaven. Then we have the trumpet that plays whenever Micheal and co descend from Heaven, a sound Aziraphale actually asks whether Maggie could hear.

Which leads to the final part: the dead in Christ will rise.

People are not dying as they should, be it from the influence of our ineffable duo, or perhaps, it is the Metatron's plan after all. A way to start the second coming.

Even the opening credits alludes to this with Crowley and Aziraphale seemingly leading a crowd of humans out of hell and through various time periods, but perhaps I really am getting ahead of myself.

So yep. Something is very up with Death.

Anyway. I need to be up in 5 hours for work. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk before the incoherent babbling begins.

[weirdkpopgirl]

By My Side | Haechan Imagine #7

Title: By My Side

Genre: Angst

Warnings: reader has a poor self-image and has a little breakdown

Word Count: 486

Author's Note: This little story is something I felt like I needed in the moment. I also realized it's been a while since I wrote something for Haechan, so here you go. As loud and chaotic as he can be, I feel like he'd be great at comforting his loved ones. Hope you guys like it and thank you for reading ^ ^

─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─

A heavy sigh escaped as you lay in bed, staring hopelessly at the ceiling. Sleep had eluded you for days, and the weight of those restless nights slowly began to take a toll on you. Despite your efforts to shift positions and keep your eyes shut tight, sleep did not come. Your mind remained stubbornly active, unwilling to dial down on the overwhelming thoughts that only visited at night.

As you were starting to accept that you wouldn’t be sleeping tonight (again), the phone on your nightstand lit up. You looked to see you had received a text from your boyfriend, asking if you were still awake. When you replied with a yes, Haechan wasted no time saying he was coming over. 

Minutes later, you heard the sounds of your door being unlocked and the padding of his steps down the hallway. Once he entered the room, he silently crawled into bed beside you and pulled you into his arms, without a word.

“Hyuck, you didn’t have to come,” you frowned.

In response, he nuzzled his nose against your neck. “You know you sleep better with me,” he murmured.

That was true. You always slept better when he was around. Something about his arms wrapped around your waist was more comforting than words could express. Even on your darkest days, Haechan never failed to make you feel loved.

Usually, you were able to hold your emotions together. But for some reason, you couldn’t tonight. As he held you close, tears welled up in your eyes and cascaded down your cheeks before you could stop them. Haechan felt the first tear fall onto the back of his hand.

“Baby,” he cooed gently in concern. Turning you around to face him, he cupped the left side of your face. “Talk to me, (Y/n).”

“I just…I want to stop hating myself,” you cried, burying your face into his chest.

But you meant it. You wanted to stop hating yourself. You wanted to stop blaming yourself for things that were out of your control. You wanted to stop thinking about all the things you could’ve done differently in the past. You wanted to stop pushing away the people you loved, just because you hated being vulnerable.

Haechan’s heart ached when you uttered those words. He knew your struggle better than anyone. The casual self-deprecation and persistent self-doubt he constantly witnessed always made him feel so sad. 

He found himself at a loss of words to console you. All he could do was tighten his embrace, and gently rub your back as you sobbed into his shirt. He understood that at this moment, you simply needed to release the emotions you’ve been bottling up. 

Being by your side felt like exactly where he needed to be.

─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─

[mrsgrimshawe]

Soo I wrote my first ever fan fiction. I’ve had this idea for some time and thought hey, why not try to write this down. Please be nice, English isn’t my first language!! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Sirius Black (after Azkaban) x female reader (fluff mostly)

Warnings: slight smut, talking about death

Word count: 1.2k

- MINORS DNI -

Summary: After you and Sirius wake up randomly almost every night for weeks, not being able to ever sleep through, you made a habit of meeting up in the kitchen drinking some tea and sharing lighthearted conversations. One fateful night, you have something to confess to the man.

Title: Midnight Tea and Confessions

The dimly lit kitchen of Grimmauld Place was a sanctuary for those restless souls who sought solace in the quiet of the night. For the newest member of the Order of the Phoenix, it became a refuge from the haunting memories of the day and the uncertainty of tomorrow.

Y/N, a young woman in her twenties with an air of resilience about her, found herself often in the company of her dear friend, Nymphadora Tonks. Their laughter echoed through the old house, bringing life to its somber corridors. But it was in the quiet moments, when the clock struck midnight and sleep eluded them, that she found herself drawn to another.

Sirius Black, once the prisoner of Azkaban, now roamed the halls of his ancestral home with a freedom tinged with the weight of his past. His eyes held the wisdom of someone who had seen too much, yet there was a spark of mischief that refused to be extinguished.

Their encounters in the kitchen began innocently enough, a shared pot of tea and idle chatter to fill the silence. But as the nights stretched on, their conversations grew deeper, touching on topics both trivial and profound. It was in these moments that Y/N found herself opening up to Sirius in ways she never thought possible.

As the night draped its veil over Grimmauld Place, the heavy silence enveloped her like a suffocating shroud. Sitting across from Sirius Black in the dimly lit kitchen, she found herself unable to shake the weight of her troubled thoughts.

"Sirius," she began, her voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the room, "I need to tell you something."

He turned to her, his eyes filled with concern. "Of course, love. What's on your mind?"

She hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. "I've been having these nightmares," she confessed, her voice trembling with emotion. "About... about our friends. About them dying."

Sirius's expression softened, his hand reaching out to gently grasp hers. "I'm so sorry, darling," he murmured, his voice thick with sympathy. "It must be terrifying."

"It is," she admitted, her eyes brimming with tears. "But there's one dream in particular that haunts me. It's... it's about you, Sirius. It feels so real."

His breath caught in his throat, a flicker of sadness crossing his features. "Me?" he echoed, his voice barely a whisper.

She nodded, her throat tightening with emotion. "Yes. In the dream, something happens to you, and... and I wake up crying, feeling like I've lost a piece of my heart."

Sirius's eyes softened, his hand moving to gently brush away her tears. "Oh, love," he murmured, pulling her into a comforting embrace. "I promise you, I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be by your side. Besides, you can always knock on my door at any time of the night, if you need me. I barely sleep anyway. And I’ll be glad to help you.”

Y/N buried her face in his chest, his words a balm to her wounded soul. "Thank you, Sirius" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Their embrace lingered for a moment longer, a silent exchange of comfort and reassurance. Then, with a tender smile, Y/N leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Sirius's cheek.

He returned the gesture with a loving smile, his eyes meeting hers in a silent understanding. And as she rose to her feet, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks, she knew that no matter what the future held, she would always find solace in the unwavering presence of Sirius Black.

Y/N returns to her room, lying down not able to shake her thoughts about the handsome gentleman that was Sirius Black. She knew there had been feelings for him, but oh boy were they growing strong. Nevertheless she was finally able to sleep with a smile for once this time. Dreaming about her secret love interest, wondering if he might find her to be too young to be a serious option for him.

One fateful night, another restless one at that, as they sat side by side at the worn wooden table, she felt a stirring in her heart that she couldn't ignore. With a courage born of desperation, she turned to Sirius, her voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the night.

"Sirius, there's something I need to tell you," she began, her words hanging in the air between them like a delicate thread.

He turned to her, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat. "What is it, love?" he asked softly, his hand reaching out to brush against hers.

"I... I think I've developed feelings for you," she confessed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “No… I know I grew feelings for you. I’m sorry. I had to let you know. It’s okay if you can’t return them. I would understand.”

For a moment, there was silence as Sirius processed her words. Then, with a tenderness that took her by surprise, he reached out and cupped her face in his hands.

"I've been feeling the same way," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.

In that moment, all pretense was cast aside as they leaned into each other, their lips meeting in a fiery kiss that ignited a passion neither could deny. His lips felt soft against her own, still warm from the tea he was drinking before their little conversation. He kissed her with so much love, gentle but still passionate. Their hands roamed eagerly, exploring each other's bodies with a hunger that bordered on desperation. “Sirius,” she broke the kiss for a moment - “not here” she breathed against his lips.

Eventually, they stumbled to their feet, their desire leading them up the darkened hallway to Sirius's bedroom. There, they shed their inhibitions and gave in to the undeniable pull of their attraction.

In the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains, they made love with a fierceness that left them breathless and spent. And as they lay tangled together in the aftermath, Y/N knew that she had found something truly special in the arms of Sirius Black.

For the first time in months, they both fell asleep peacefully, in each other’s arms, wondering if this was even real.

The next morning, Y/N woke up first, still finding herself in his bed. It was very early, no need to get up just yet. Her eyes lingered on his peaceful looking face, he was sound asleep. Breathing slowly, steady. She couldn’t help but smile, thinking about last night. He treated her gently, lovingly, still full of passion and lust. It was everything she longed for in such a long time.

She started caressing his hair, then his cheeks. Then looking at his bare chest which was exposed, thinking about what the meaning behind those appealing tattoos might be. He started smiling, eyes still closed.

“Good morning beautiful” he said in a raspy voice. “Good morning handsome. It’s still early. We can stay here a bit longer, if you’d like.” she answered. Sirius opened his eyes, looking deeply into her big Y/E/C eyes. “There’s nothing I’d love more.” He pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead then taking her chin between his fingers to lift it up, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

“Rest some more, my love. I will still be here when you wake up. Let this be the end of your nightmares. And even if they return, I will be here to distract you from them.” he said, pulling the blanket over your bodies, you both drifting back to sleep.

They had no idea she would be the reason the Black Family wouldn’t die with Sirius.

[sassykattery]

Elusive Slumber

Welcome to a short one-shot smut. I wrote this a while ago, and I thought why not throw this in for my readers. Basically you'll probably see a lot of Lucifer content this month from me.

synopsis: You're having trouble falling asleep, and what better way to find comfort than the eldest brother?

CW: no pronouns mentioned, no explicit genitals mentioned. this was written with an afab body in mind, but i do think anyone could enjoy the scene.

Pairing: LuciferxMC

Minors and Ageless blogs DNI

18+ only

Enjoy

-----

It was late, one of the latest nights Lucifer's had in a long while, but Lord Diavolo had business to attend to, and he left his trusted right-hand to take care of some of his duties while he was gone for a few days. He could see the end of his work in sight, and it wouldn't be long before he could finally go to bed.

Meanwhile, it was also one of those nights where you couldn't sleep. Though you tried and tried, sweet slumber eluded you. Your thoughts kept drifting to those of Lucifer, and how he grabbed your waist earlier to move behind you after the student council meeting. Distinctly, you could remember feeling his pelvis brush your ass, and it made you freeze as his deep voice penetrated your ears to say, "Excuse me."

It was as if your legs were moving on their own, because suddenly, you were up and still in your pajamas, closing your bedroom door behind you to make your way to the eldest's office. You rationalized that maybe just being near him would quell your thoughts and you could eventually go to sleep.

After knocking, you heard a very quiet sigh followed by "Enter."

Slipping in silently, you closed the door behind you and approached the working demon. It was only when you were in front of his desk that Lucifer finally looked up at you, with slight surprise.

"MC, it's rather late for you to be awake," he commented, going back to his work.

"I can't sleep," you replied in a hushed tone.

Without looking up from his paper, he held up his free hand and did the "come hither" motion with his finger. Wordlessly, you came around his desk. He moved back slightly from his desk and patted his leg for you to sit on. Though you were a little surprised, you did as told and straddled his thigh, with one of your knees now in-between his legs and the other knee on the outer side of his leg you sat on. Carefully, you looped your arms down low around his waist and leaned into his torso, resting your head on his shoulder, almost like a koala to a tree. This allowed him to scoot back to his desk as he wrapped his arm around your back and continued working.

"I appreciate the company, MC. I'm sorry you can't sleep," he murmured to you, flipping another page. His chest vibrating against your torso as he spoke did wonders for you.

"Mm," is all you mumbled. It was to keep you from saying anything embarrassing, because coming here, you now realized, did nothing but stir up more of the feelings you had felt while thinking about him. To hear his gentle breathing, inhaling his intoxicating scent, feeling him all around you, it drove these thoughts and desires so much higher. It was all you could do just to stay still.

But, unfortunately, that wasn't to be in your favor, because Lucifer then shifted to put some of his papers away into a desk drawer, and his thigh was moving around between your legs, giving you the slightest friction against your crotch. It was just enough to cause you to sharply inhale, just a little, but that little bit was enough to get his attention. He continued what he was doing, but now his focus was divided, between his work and to see why exactly it was you couldn't sleep.

Returning to his original position, he only had two more documents to look through, but he was going to make them last just a touch longer while he toyed with you.

He leaned forward, as if he was trying to look at something, causing you to slide your hips back, creating more friction between the two of you at your burning center. Your body tensed up, and Lucifer fought to contain the smirk that threatened to smear his lips. Leaning himself back, you slipped into your original position, and again, your crotch was drug up his thigh. You seemed to have been holding on to him tighter now, as if you desperately wanted to stay still, but oh no, you were part of a little game he was trying to win.

He stopped moving then, giving you a little reprieve. Though, your body was betraying you to him: he could easily read how your breathing had become shallow, you were warm, oh you were burning up in-between your thighs, and now he could feel your thrumming heartbeat in your chest and down below.

After turning to the very last page, he then bounced the leg that you sat upon. It was just once, as if he were adjusting his foot position, but that one time forced the most adorable squeak from you. Now he definitely couldn't hide the smirk that graced his face. His thigh had bounced into your aching core, the one begging for any kind of stimulation. This vocalization made you freeze, and you waited for him to say something but it never came. Instead, he simply signed the last document, put his pen down, and relaxed back into his chair.

You started to wonder if maybe he didn't hear you, but then you felt his gloved hands sneak around to your hips. Gently, his fingers pressed into your plush flesh. This didn't help the ache that formed deep within your abdomen as the pressure built inside of you, begging you to relieve it. Your cheeks were burning, and you were glad that you kept your face glued to his shoulder, lest he see how embarrassed and turned on you were.

To your surprise, his hands squeezed your hips, and started to push them back, making your crotch slide back against his thigh again, and then he pulled your hips back in. The littlest gasp escaped your lips as it struck your nerves like tiny lightning bolts across your core to feel the drag of contact between you two. It was also because you realized he was now doing this on purpose, as he pushed your hips back and forth, moving you across his leg. Though you fought as hard as you could to contain it, when he bounced his leg again as your crotch drug across his thigh, you let out a little moan of surprise. You felt his head turn, his jaw now rubbing against your temple, as if to encourage you.

It took only a moment for you to consider what you wanted to do, before your hips decided for you, and they slowly rolled back and forth with the guiding motions of Lucifer's strong hands. Your breathing became ragged and the only noises in the office were your stifled moans and the rustling of fabrics. Wanting to hold on, your hands found their way to the front of his waist coat and curled into the fabric.

His hands guided you into a faster rhythm, and your sweet little whimpers increased in volume, like music to Lucifer's ears. Needing to feel closer to the demon, you moved your face to nuzzle his neck, your hot shaky breaths gracing his cool skin. He bounced his leg again, causing you to let out another surprised moan. The heat pooling in your core starting trickling out to the rest of your body, and instinctively you rocked your hips faster, pressing yourself down into his thigh as you ground out your sexual frustration.

Keeping one hand on your hip, he placed his other hand on the back of your neck and pressing the rest of his forearm into your shoulders and back, as if to hold you tight. He knew you were close, you just needed a little more. Seeing as you found your rhythm, his hand left your hip in favor of squeezing your ass, causing you to let out a more desperate whine. Turning his head again, he whispered to you,

"Cum for me."

This ignited your internal inferno, and involuntarily your thighs squeezed tightly the one of his you were riding on. Your eyes screwed shut as the coil that was tightening in your core finally sprung. With your release, your hips stuttered, grinding as hard as you could into one spot.

"L-Lucifer," you cried out to him, like a prayer. Small, light sobs racked through you as the grips of your orgasm sank deeper into you, the pleasure seeping into every nerve in your body. Your whole body was tense in this moment, and you froze except for the little twitches your hips gave.

It seemed like it was forever before your climax finally released its hold on you, and when it did, you slumped into the embrace of the demon that held you during the entire ordeal. Your body was exhausted from finally releasing all that sexual tension that had built up within you all day, and it was when you let out a content sigh that Lucifer relaxed his arms, and started stroking small circles into your back. It didn't take long for your sleep deprivation to start causing you to drift off.

Silently, Lucifer wrapped his arms around you, very tightly, and stood. Barely awake, you clung to him as he whisked you away to his room, where he gently laid you into his bed, changed into his sleeping robe, and returned to wrap himself around your sleeping frame.

There was no need for words, he was just happy he could help you fulfill a need you clearly had, and he was honored that you found a release through him. Though he didn't anticipate such a thing happening that night, he was secretly proud that just little things he did to you stirred up such feelings within yourself. Yes, he knew he riled you up earlier that day when he brushed behind you. He should like to do that again in the future, just maybe with less clothes and you grinding on something else of his.

----

Thanks for reading!

Tags:

@delphi-dreamin @leavesandflowers

Post made by sassykattery. Do not repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated.

[bikananjarrus]

anchor.

sw: the high republic | elzar mann x stellan gios | 1100 words | rated g

summary:

elzar and stellan find comfort in each other in the aftermath of the attacks on valo and grizal (set immediately after the rising storm).

note:

the rising storm gave me SO many elzar and stellan feelings. and just feelings about the firebrands in general. so i wrote this in a blur at work today.

this is set right after the rising storm (so spoilers for phase 1 books up to that point. Though spoilers are minimal). i’m still reading my way through the books, so this likely doesn't fit super well into canon but oh well! (but please no spoilers for future books thx <3)

Elzar couldn’t sleep.

His ribs (badly cracked, according to the med droid; one more good compression from Stellan and they would’ve broken completely) ached. Well—everything ached. Crashing a Vector will do that to a person.

More than that, he couldn’t focus, his center within the Force eluding him. Just when he thought he’d grasped onto it and could finally reach that meditative place he needed to rest, recuperate—and to shake the horrifying visions that had returned to his mind’s eye—it slipped away from him again.

Turmoil permeated the Force in the Temple on Valo.

After the attack on Grizal, after Loden—

They’d chosen to regroup at the outpost, the Jedi survivors and their Nihil prisoners, rejoining the survivors and workers from Valo that were still stationed at the Temple-turned-temporary-base-of-operations.

Many of them had gone straight to the medical wing, Elzar included. Padawan Bell, too, who they’d managed to pull from his fear-induced stupor enough to walk (mostly) on his own. But the young man was still in shock—silent, staring at the wall, his loyal charhound never once leaving his side.

Bell didn’t need to speak, though. Anguish rolled off him in waves through the Force. Fear, grief, confusion. The air in the Temple was thick with it all. Jedi seeking answers and finding none.

Likely, they wouldn’t find any tonight.

Night settled over the planet and the Temple quieted.

Elzar had spent a couple hours helping where he could after being cleared, despite the protests of his body and the anxious medical droids telling him he needed rest. Only after Ty threatened to knock him out did he finally relent and move to one of the rooms where bunks had been set up.

But despite his exhaustion, sleep never came.

Meditation kept failing, and even the steady breathing of others sleeping around him couldn’t lull him into that same sleep.

Unable to find his own center in the Force, he reached out in search of something else. Someone else, who had always served as a compass when Elzar felt lost in the storm.

Wearing nothing but light sleep pants, he threw on the outer cloak of his Jedi robes, pulling it around his bruised and aching torso. He almost smiled thinking how Stellan would teasingly scold him for walking around a Jedi Temple in something so un-Jedi-like. Almost. But circumstances kept his features drawn as he padded quietly through the Temple, following the tug of Stellan through the Force.

Elzar found him in what appeared to be a converted closet. As one of the few intact buildings leftover from the attack, every available space in the Temple was being used. The small room was wide enough for the two flimsy mattresses laid out and shoved against opposite walls. One mattress was empty; Stellan occupied the other. His was on his side, eyes closed, but Elzar knew he wasn’t asleep.

As the door slid shut behind him, Elzar found himself wondering who had finally gotten Stellan to rest for the night. Given the chance, Stellan would have stayed up all night seeking answers to the terror that had found them on Grizal.

Elzar knew Stellan had heard—or rather, felt—him come in. Wordlessly, Stellan shifted over on the mattress. Equally without sound, he tossed off his outer robe and settled down onto the bed next to Stellan. They tucked together in a way they hadn’t done since they were Padawans.

It was different with Stellan, than it was with Avar. Just as Elzar knew Stellan’s connection to him and Avar differed, as did Avar’s connection to them. The three of them experiencing gravity, its push and pull, just a little bit differently. But the three of them—always in the same orbit. Always Firebrands.

With Stellan, Elzar didn’t have to say anything; Stell had always just been that good at reading him. It was the same the other way around. Without words, they could say all they needed to.

Though he and Stellan had never shared a bed, fully, in the way that he and Avar had, as Padawans they had still sought comfort in the heat of each other’s bodies. Skin to skin, occasionally mouth to mouth. But never more than that. Stellan always pulling back with a self-restraint Elzar never had, and doubted he ever would.

But it was enough. Just to lay with each other, be near each other, until their breaths timed together. Until the Force recognized them as one being, instead of two.

They breathed together now—Elzar’s back pressed against Stellan’s chest, the soft material of Stell’s light tunic sliding against his bare skin. Inhale. Stellan’s arms slid around him gently, and Elzar pulled one of his hands into his own. Exhale.

Still, Stellan was tense behind him. Elzar could feel his thoughts racing, the tangle of emotions that was making it hard to find equilibrium in the Force.

Inhale. Exhale.

Elzar shifted—wondering, maybe, if Stellan was the one who needed to be held. But Stellan held firm. He shifted again, ribs twinging painfully for just a moment. Even as he winced, he ran his free hand across Stellan’s forearm soothingly, knowing he could feel his pain through their Force-connection.

Inhale. Exhale.

They were silent a while longer, breaths becoming more and more even.

Stellan’s nose pressed in between Elzar’s shoulder blades, breath hot against his skin. There was the slight scratch of beard as his mouth moved, whispering in the dark, “I thought I’d lost you.”

And there it was, Elzar realized. The tightly knotted mess at the center of Stellan’s tangled feelings. That fear that still lingered, like smoke in the air. A fear of loss he could feel his dear friend trying to accept—and let go of. As they were taught.

Elzar thought—for the briefest moment—that he would use the dark again if it meant he could take away that fear. If it meant Stellan—or Avar—would never have to feel that kind of hopelessness ever again—

He shuddered in Stellan’s arms, banishing that line of thinking. Stellan held him tighter, and he sank into the embrace. Anchoring himself to Stellan, and Stellan to him.

Elzar’s ribs ached, almost agonizingly so. But this time he relished in the pain, facing the bald truth of what it was—a reminder that his heart had stopped. Stopped; until Stellan forced it into beating once more. A reminder that he had lived; that he had been given a second chance to make amends for using that darkness in him once, and never again.

“I’m here,” Elzar murmured back, gripping Stellan’s fingers. “I’m still here.”

He reached for Stellan through the Force again, seeking that indomitable light within his friend. Like sunlight on the surface of water, Elzar pushed through the endless ocean that was the Force, kicking up towards that light. Grasping onto the hand that Stellan held out to him through the Force.

Inhale. Exhale.

They held onto each other, and Elzar knew they would get through this. They would rise above the darkness of these times.

As one, together. Always.

[end]

[wammyhoe]

how about a posessive mello or beyond birthday? 👀 the thought has been tormenting me

Sure! I wrote BB cause I miss him T.T / Possessive!BB HC

Beyond Birthday 🔪

He's always attuned to the subtleties, the nuances that differ from the usual – whether it's the strands of your hair, modifications in your clothes, or the arrangement of items in your apartment. If something deviates from the ordinary, anticipate that he will inquire about it.

More often than not, his desire for your attention exceeds your boundaries. Whether through text, phone calls, or in person. Beyond expects to have your perpetual availability. He's easily upset if you take too long to answer texts or calls.

Quality time together is his love elixir, and dates effortlessly transition into sleepovers. There's an insatiable hunger for your company, an appetite that only intensifies with each passing moment. What do you mean you had other compromises? No, please stay just a bit longer…

B enfolds you in his embrace as you slumber. Even in his sleep, he somehow senses when you attempt to slip away from his grasp, and his hold tightens ever so slightly.

Voicing your wish to readjust is enough for him to comply, loosening his hold. However, should you dare to rise from the bed, it won't be long before he seeks out your whereabouts. Sleep eludes him in your absence. He needs your warmth.

A switch flips down whenever someone harms you or if he perceives there's a chance they'll tear you from him. BB doesn't do jealousy. He deals with it by eliminating those who encroach too closely. If they are audacious enough to lay a finger on a single strand of your hair, they had it coming.

[dc-and-arfrona]

When I couldn’t sleep at night, I wrote stories.

Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Based off this prompt

In the stillness of sleepless nights, my refuge was always the written word. My pen danced across the paper, stitching together stories and dreams. It was through writing that I found solace, a conduit to express the thoughts that echoed within me. And amidst the blank pages, he was always there—Jason Todd, my inspiration, my muse.

My words painted him vividly, breathing life into his every nuance and shade. I poured my heart into each sentence, weaving tales of love and adventure, mirroring the bittersweet symphony of our own journey. It was as if the ink on the page carried a piece of his soul, an imprint of his presence in my life.

But when Jason abruptly left, the inkwell of my creativity ran dry. The stories that once flowed effortlessly were silenced, the characters retreating into the shadows of my imagination. The absence of his presence left me staring at empty pages, yearning for the return of my inspiration.

I sat at my desk, the weight of his absence heavy in my heart, my pen poised with longing. But the words refused to come, caught in the web of grief and loss. The vibrant tapestry of storytelling had been torn apart, the threads of our shared dreams unraveling before my eyes.

Night after night, I found myself entangled in a struggle between sleep and solitude. I sought refuge in the embrace of dreams, yearning for the solace they once provided. But sleep evaded me, the void in my heart casting a haunting shadow over my nights.

In the depths of this creative abyss, a glimmer of hope emerged—a chance encounter in the chaos of the city. There, amid the darkness, was Jason, donning the mantle of the Red Hood. His presence ignited a spark within me, a reminder of the power of resilience and the strength that lies within.

Inspired by the enigmatic vigilante, I returned to my desk with renewed determination. I poured my heart onto the pages, seeking to mend the fragments of shattered dreams. Through my words, I yearned to find solace once again, to bridge the gap between the world I created and the reality I faced.

With each stroke of the pen, I discovered the strength to embrace vulnerability, to delve into the complexities of human emotion. The characters found their voice, their journeys intertwined with my own. The ink flowed, breathing life into the narratives that pulsed through my veins.

As the nights unfolded, sleep finally found me. In my dreams, I no longer longed for Jason's presence. Instead, I sought solace in the stories I crafted, weaving tales of love and redemption, of brokenness and healing. The dreams were no longer about him, but about the intricate tapestry of life itself.

With Jason as my muse, I unearthed the courage to confront the shattered fragments of my own dreams. The characters on the page reflected the resilience and determination that burned within me, mirroring the journey of my own fractured heart.

So, when sleep eluded me at night, I no longer stared at the ceiling in despair. Instead, I surrendered to the call of the page, knowing that through writing, I could mend the broken fragments of my dreams. And within the realms of my imagination, I found a sanctuary where new stories unfolded, waiting to be told and cherished.

Masterlist

[50calmadeuce]

Ch. 6: Mandolin Rain

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I also do not own the rights or copyrights of Mandolin Rain by Bruce Hornsby and the Range. I just happen to really like this song.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

Note: When I wrote this chapter, Mandolin Rain by Bruce Hornsby just happened to play on my Spotify account just as I was thinking of what to write next for this story. Listening to it while reading this chapter may help you to see it more or it may not. It's your choice.

Moonlight poured into your bedroom, granting you some visibility as you sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Glancing to your right, you found Sean nestled in peaceful slumber in your bed. Sleep eluded you completely, the memory of Jake's pained expression when you mentioned "fiancé" still haunting your thoughts, tearing at your heart.

You carefully lifted the comforter and slipped out of bed, retrieving your cell phone and earbuds from the nightstand with hushed movements. Passing by the dresser, a glimmer drew your attention. You reached out, finding an old CD of Bruce Hornsby and the Range.

Stealthily, you made your way to the bedroom door, opening it with care, and gently shutting it behind you. Descending the stairs, you entered the living room. There, you seized the Aztec-style blanket from the couch and made your way to the outdoor living area.

The night air was perfect, hovering around a comfortable 65 degrees. Nestling onto the outdoor couch, you draped the blanket over yourself. Plugging in your earbuds, you accessed your Spotify account on your phone and searched for "Mandolin Rain."

You laid back and closed your eyes as a memory enveloped you:

The night enveloped the surroundings in darkness, but the carnival lights illuminated the area, casting a vibrant glow. You indulged in some cotton candy, savoring the sugary delight, when a distant rumble reached your ears.

"I think it might be time to head home," sixteen-year-old Jake suggested.

"It's just a bit of thunder, Jake," you reassured.

"Yeah, but you know how storms can get around here."

Just as he spoke, rain began to descend, first in a slow drizzle, then picking up speed. Jake gently took hold of your hand, guiding you under the shelter of one of the game canopies and into his embrace. The two of you locked eyes, a silent understanding passing between you.

"Why Jake Seresin. What would people say?" you teased.

"I don't give a shit what they say," he said as he leaned in and kissed you. Gently. Lovingly.

As you separated, you discarded the remnants of your cotton candy into a nearby garbage can. Then, you slowly began to step backwards, separating yourself from Jake, from under the game canopy, and allowing the rain to embrace you.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Jake inquired, a smile playing at his lips.

"Something I haven't done in a long time." The rain started to drench your light blue floral dress as you twirled and let it wash over you.

Jake couldn't help but grin and chuckle. "You're crazy!"

You extended your hand. "Come on, Jake! It's just a little water."

He placed his hand in yours, and you pulled him close, the rain cascading down on you.

"You're crazy, but I love you," Jake declared.

You froze, meeting his gaze. "What did you say?"

He drew you nearer, his eyes locked onto your crystal-blue ones. "I said I love you."

In the next instant, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss, rain pouring around you both.

You drifted into sleep, a contented smile lingering on your lips, courtesy of that cherished memory.

The gentle caress of light and warmth greeted your face as you shifted on the outdoor couch. Suddenly, something soft collided with your face, prompting you to sit up, eyes wide.

"What the fuck?!" you exclaimed, turning to find James chuckling. "You ass."

"Your fiance is on the lookout for you."

You flung the blanket off of you. "Shit. I completely forgot he was here."

"Could be worse. I didn't even know he existed."

You held a finger up to him. "I'll fill you in later." You stood up.

Just then, the door creaked open, and Sean emerged. "Y/N. How did you end up out here?" he asked, his blue eyes concerned.

"I couldn't sleep last night, so I came out here. I didn't want to bother you."

"I'll let you two be," James said as he walked back into the house.

Sean placed both of his hands on your arms and tried looking at you, but you couldn't look at him. "Are you okay?"

You pushed them off, grabbed the blanket off of the couch and went into the house. "I'm fine," you responded as you placed the blanket on the living room couch.

Just then, Griff came into the room. "Breakfast is ready."

"Thank you, Griff. We'll be right there." You said to him and then turned back to Sean. "I have to go shower and get dressed. We'll talk later."

You headed up the stairs, leaving Sean staring at you.

"She'll be alright. I think all of this is just getting to her," James said to Sean as he emerged from the kitchen.

Sean sat on the couch, looking at the floor in front of him. "She's been different since she's been here. No wonder she never goes home."

"As I said, she's got a lot on her mind."

Sean looked at James. "Well, I wish she'd talk to me about them."

"Tell me. How long have you known Y/N?"

"Since she's been in Alaska. Ten years. We've only been dating the last year. She was engaged to one of my friends who was a helicopter pilot, but they ended it. It took a bit for me to get the courage to ask her out. She's different."

"That she is," James agreed and then nodded towards the kitchen. "Come on. Let's get some breakfast."

[e-dubbc11]

Just a Dream

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of a gun, angst, alludes to abuse, mentions of abandonment, nightmares.

Word Count: 1.2k-ish

Summary: Billy is scared, his dreams haunt him and the very thought of anything happening to you frightens him so he feels the need to do whatever it takes to protect you, protect you from his dreams. You comfort him and calm him down.

A/N: I know I’ve written about Billy having nightmares before but I had a thought yesterday and I just ran with it. He’s a combat veteran, and he’s been through a lot of trauma, he’s going to have more than one nightmare. I wrote this quickly so if there are mistakes, oh well. And I realized a few minutes ago that a few of my titles start with the word “Just” but again, oh well!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

A light breeze coming from the open window brushed over your bare shoulder. Goosebumps immediately covered your exposed skin and suddenly the bedsheet pulled up to your chest wasn’t enough to keep you warm. You began to shiver, your teeth were chattering, so you pulled the sheet up higher to cover your shoulders, hoping it would warm you up.

But you didn’t get warmer, something was missing. Slowly, you opened your eyes and extended your arm over to his side of the bed even though you really didn’t need to, he wasn’t there.

The heat radiating off of his body always kept you warm, he held you close to his chest while you slept, and you always felt safe next to him. As long as he was with you, there was no reason for you to be afraid…of anything. He protected you at all costs, with his own life if necessary. You only wished you could protect him the same way, protect him from his demons, his nightmares, and even himself.

Sleep eluded him. It was as if he was afraid to go to sleep, afraid of what he would find once he closed his eyes. What did he see when he finally fell asleep? Who did he see? He didn’t talk about it much, what he saw overseas, what he did over there, but you knew it would wake him at night because you were lying next to him.

The large beads of sweat would form on his forehead, his t-shirt would be damp, and his heart was racing. In between your shoulders, you could feel it beating out of his chest against your back, he pulled you in closer so his chest was flush with your back.

“Sssshhh…it’s ok, baby. I’m right here. You’re ok.” You would tell him, squeezing his hands tightly so he would know you were there, comforting him. The little circles you drew on the tops of his hands were done with the lightest touch as to not scare him awake, he knew you were there, gently brushing his knuckles with your fingertips, calming him, soothing him so he could go back to sleep.

“I love you.” He would whisper in your ear.

But this time, the nightmare must have been different, you don’t know how you knew, you just did.

The bedroom door was cracked open, a dim light shone from the living room so you softly called out for him.

“Billy? Are you out there?”

Pulling his sweatshirt on over your shoulders, you tip toed across the bedroom floor towards the door. You called out for him again.

“Billy?”

You opened the door, walked out into the living room, and found him sitting on the end of the couch. He was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, and you saw his gun sitting on the coffee table.

Strands of his raven colored hair grazed the tops of his eyebrows, his deep brown eyes just staring down at the gun resting on the table, his skin was pale and his lips were tense.

You watched him brush his beard with his fingertips then he slowly reach for the gun. He held it in his hand, raising his head to have his eyes meet yours, they looked sad and yours were full of concern for him. What was his nightmare about? What happened that he felt he needed to get out of bed, to sit there with his gun at the ready, like he was on one of his missions.

“Hey sweet girl.” He tried to smile at you because he could tell you were worried about him.

“Did you have a nightmare, baby?” You asked him.

He nodded.

“Ok, so why do you have your gun out, my love?” You asked.

With glassy eyes, he only said one word. “Arthur.”

“Arthur? Arthur isn’t here, Billy.” You said in a confused tone.

Arthur visited the group home where Billy grew up, he tried to take advantage of him and ended up breaking Billy’s arm, not before he tried to protect himself by hitting Arthur with a baseball bat.

Carefully, you moved closer to him.

“I won’t let him hurt you.” He said angrily, his lip curled over his gnashed teeth.

Suddenly you were very cold, his words cut through you like a hot knife through butter and sent shivers down your spine.

“Billy, what are you talking about? You’re not making any sense, baby.” You told him.

You could feel his anger and the hate all around him, escaping his body. He wanted to let it go, the shame of it all, and no matter how many times you told him that it wasn’t his fault, that he didn’t need to feel ashamed about what happened, it didn’t help despite your best efforts.

Billy wanted it to be enough, he tried his best to let your words and comforts overpower Arthur’s words in his head but he couldn’t shake them “When a grown man tells you that you're pretty, you know nothing good is coming.”

“Was Arthur in your nightmare, Billy?”

He made a fist with his other hand, the muscles in his arm flexed as he brought his fist up to rest against his forehead.

“He took you away from me, said he was going to hurt you and he—he taunted me and laughed while he did it. I couldn’t stop him.”

His words broke you, the tightness in your chest felt like a knot had formed over your heart, crushing it so you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You moved a little closer so you could kneel in front of him and then cupped his cheeks in your hands.

“Billy, look at me please.” You said.

The look in his eyes silently told you he was terrified and furious. The painful memories from his childhood weren’t talked about much but he did share them with you.

Billy Russo was a marine, he was brave, strong, and extremely proud to serve his country. But sometimes he was still that scared little boy in that group home alone with Arthur, or wondering what he did wrong for his mother to abandon him like she did. All he had ever wanted was to be loved, for someone to care enough to ask how his day was, someone to make him smile, and finally he had that…he did have someone now—you.

He still shut you out sometimes, not wanting to talk about things or express his feelings but you never left. You let him come to you, never forcing him to talk or pressuring him in any way which is just one of the reasons he loved you so much. The thought of anyone hurting you, burned like wildfire in his veins.

“It was just a dream, Billy…just a dream. He’s not here. I’m safe, baby.” You paused to keep your voice from cracking, he relaxed, opened his hand and rested his palm against your cheek. “He—Arthur—he can’t hurt you anymore. No one else is here, it’s just you and me. Put the gun down, Billy. Please?”

Slowly, he lowered the gun and set it back onto the table and pulled you into a tight embrace. You both exhaled sharply, and tears streamed down your cheeks. “It’s ok, my love.” You said.

Billy kissed the top of your head. “I would never let anything happen to you.”

You pulled away to look into his eyes, the corners of his mouth turned up into a slight smile. “I know, Billy. And I won’t let anyone hurt you…ever again.”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @munsonownsmyass @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕