Summary: You get stood up and end up going on a date with someone else.
You looked down at the cream colored table cloth in embarrassment, as the snobby waiter looked down on you, “If your date doesn’t arrive soon, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.“
Your cheeks blazed in shame, "I’m sorry, I’ll just go.” Slowly you rose from the small table, knocking down a small vase that held a dainty tulip, catching the attention of the many others eating dinner at the elegant restaurant.
Shit. As you tried to prop the vase and flower up again you heard a powerful laugh sound from behind, quickly you spun around to look at the owner of the melodic voice. With a glint in his icy blue eyes, the man extended his hand out to you.
“Hello, I’m Luke, and I believe I was who you were waiting for.”
Glancing at his awaiting palm you looked down at the ground, rejecting his gesture of kindness.
“I’m sorry but I think you are mistaken, the man I supposed to be meeting is named Clarke, although it doesn’t seem as if he will be making an appearance tonight.” Your response bitter and clipped.
Your words didn’t seem to faze the tall man, as he sat down across from you, gesturing for you to join him at the table.
Hesitantly you sat back down, eyeing him cautiously.
Raising his hand, Luke flagged over the waiter, “Can we have two menus, and your finest bottle of red wine.” The snobby waiter from before scoffing as he heard the request, “I doubt you can afford that, maybe the Denny’s down the street would suit you better.”
As you sat appalled by the waiters bad attitude, Luke stood up, towering over the short waiter, “Maybe we should. I thought I saw a rat when I walked in, but then again it may have just been you.”
Luke reached a hand out towards you, ignoring the waiters red face and attempts to fire back a retort. Accepting his hand you walked past the observant diners, lifting your head to see the women staring at the man beside you in awe.
Walking out of the five star restaurant with your heads held high, you let out a giggle, “That was quite the experience, Luke. I hope we don’t get turned away at the Denny’s, I’m quite hungry.”
Luke awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, watching his muscles flex through his black tee shirt. You had to admit he didn’t look like he necessarily belonged in a restaurant like that, but that certainly didn’t excuse the waiter for his behavior.
He was dawned in all black, black tee shirt, black skinny jeans, and black heeled boots that only added to his tall stature. Despite the casual look, he looked nicer than half the business men that chose to eat there.
“That’s never happened to me before, but did it work?” he asked with a smirk on his face.
Puzzled you asked, “Did what work?”
Luke’s smirk grew bigger, revealing his dimples. His voice dropping an octave, “Did I impress you.”
Heat rose to your cheeks, letting out a scoff that sounded more like you were choking, “As if. Maybe I’d be impressed if we actually received the wine, but alas, we are walking towards a Denny’s instead.”
In reality you didn’t mind going to a Denny’s instead, the expensive restaurant didn’t even offer bread.
“I guess I’ll have to find a way to remedy that.” Your head snapped up to look at him, the smirk never leaving his face as he winked at you. Damn him.
You walked hand in hand down the street, a comfortable silence settling over you. The night sky was black and void of any stars, looking up into the abyss you felt at ease and confident, thinking of all the times you sought comfort in the dark.
As you approached your destination you saw the recognizable, yellow and red of the Denny’s. Luke walked in front and opened the door for you, his hand never leaving yours.
After being seated by a noticeably happier waiter than the last, you sat down across from each other, smiling softly at Luke as you sunk into the vinyl booth, taking in the smell of late night pancakes and steak.
“So, Luke, what do you do for a living?” queue the awkward yet necessary first date questions – that is if this could be considered a date.
Looking up from his menu he smiled, “I’m in a band, a rather popular one at that.”
Before you could respond your waiter returned asking for your orders. You ordered a chocolate milk shake, and chicken tenders. Luke ordered a tall stack of pancakes.
“Aren’t chicken tenders for kids?” You wrinkled your nose at his remark, you could eat whatever you want, despite whether it was typically for children or not.
“Well, I think chicken tenders are for everyone, I mean they taste amazing, and who are you to judge? You just ordered pancakes for dinner.”
The conversation flowed naturally between the two of you. You talked about his band, it was clear he enjoyed his job as he talked animatedly, the smile never leaving his lips.
“And then Calum came in the room with his phone, and get this, I wasn’t wearing pants.” You laughed in unison at Luke’s stories, sipping your milk shake occasionally.
“It seems like most of your stories end without pants, as if this a common occurrence for you.” Your eyes twinkled as you teased the man in front of you, despite how the night began you got along well and enjoyed his company.
“Well who knows, the night may end without pants again.” He stared intensely into you eyes, looking for any signs of rejection, finding none he causally raised his hand.
“Waiter, can we get the bill.”
The taxi ride back to his house was clouded with lust, you could fell his eyes on you but despite the nagging feeling to return his glaces, you held back, simply staring out the taxi window, watching the houses pass by.
You felt Luke move closer to you, one arm going over your shoulders hugging you closer to him, the other resting on your thigh, his cold finger tips making you jump in your seat.
The thought of what his hands could do made heat rush to your core.
Leaning his head down he gently tugged on your ear lobe, “I haven’t even done anything yet and I can tell you’re already so wet for me, princess.”
Before you could even attempt to respond, Luke withdrew his hand from your thigh as the taxi approached his home, extending his hand to you for the third time that night.
Accepting, he pulled you out of the car, paying the fare, and leading you inside.
Luke’s house was dark, the only light coming from the moon that shone bright outside the windows. He led you around the apparent maze that was his house, eventually finding the right door and opening it.
Your jaw fell to the floor as you walked into his room, moonlight reflecting off the walls and creating a natural glow. It was magical. You practically tripped over yourself in an attempt to reach the large windows that took up the entirety of the front wall.
All thoughts of Luke were replaced with the moon until you felt his hands rest on your hips as he peppered kisses along your neck, his scruffy beard scratching you lightly.
Your hands moved to remove the straps of your dress, moving your hair to the side while Luke slowly undid the zipper, the dress dropping to the floor. Revealing dark blue lace.
Your back remained turned to him, head tilted up to allow him more access to your neck. You felt him suck harshly, a breathy moan escaping your lips.
Luke slowly unclasped your lacy bra, spinning you around to face him. His smirk has returned to his face, his eyes hooded with lust and passion.
“Oh for fucks sake, look at my princess now.”
His words gave you a burst of confidence, placing your index finger on his chest you pushed him back towards his bed, the backs of his legs hitting the plush mattress.
Pushing him down you straddled him, connecting your lips together. His hands roamed your body greedily, gripping and kneading at your barely clothed ass.
Luke flipped you over, his eyes shamelessly devoured you as he took in your appearance, his pants tightening even more at the sight you. Kissing you again he starting trailing his kisses down, getting sloppier as he went.
Leaving one last kiss before your navel he looked up at you with cloudy eyes, before slowly dragged your underwear down with his teeth. Your breath hitched in your throat at the action, getting wetter by the second.
He teasingly stroked between your folds, spreading your wetness around with the pad of his finger, before slipping it into you, pumping in and out as he watched you writhe under his touch.
Slowly Luke’s lowered his lips to your core, sucking lightly as he replaced his fingers with his tongue, rubbing your clit harshly.
You tangled your fingers in Luke’s long golden locks, gripping tightly at the roots, eliciting a deep grunt from him, the vibrations reaching your clit, your stomach tightening at the feeling.
Luke worked skillfully, his touches feather light and erotic. He looked up at you again, maintaining eye contact with you.
"Come for me, princess.”
With wide eyes and a shaky moan you let your orgasm wash over you, pleasure reaching the deepest depths inside you.
Recovering from your orgasm you looked over to see Luke palming himself through his tight jeans, drawing him closer by his belt loop you started to strip him of his shirt, your fingertips dancing along his skin.
Winking up at him your hands trailed down to remove his jeans - which proved to be quite the feat - his member straining against the confining fabric. Pushing you back lightly, Luke started to pump himself, his tip flushed and leaking precum.
“You ready to ride me, princess?” With a timid nod, you helped Luke back onto the bed his head resting lightly on his pillow, still pumping himself slowly. He reached over with his other hand to the nightstand, pulling out a silver wrapper.
Putting on the condom with ease Luke, motioning you to join him. His hands met your hips, lifting you up so you were hovering over his stiff member. Giving him a nod, his hands moved you down onto him.
Moans filled the room as his length stretched you out. Giving you a moment to adjust, Luke started to guide your hips, his nails digging into your soft skin. Your movements grew faster and more fluid as you progressed. Luke’s eyes never leaving your body. You lifted your body from his and dropped down on his member, repeating the action when you felt his tip brush over your g spot, moaning loudly.
His hand went to rub your clit as his he bit his lip in concentration and pleasure. You moaned even louder than before, “Fuck, Luke, I’m gonna come.” You knew he was close too, feeling him start to twitch inside you as you dropped down again.
With a swift motion he pulled you down to his lips, kissing you again before growling, “Be a good girl and come with me princess.”
Moaning again at his words you heard him start to count down lowly, three, two, one, come.
You felt him release inside the condom as you shook around him, your second orgasm leaving you light headed and numb.
With a soft giggle you spoke, “I guess the night did end without pants, well done Hemmings, you’ve impressed me.
Hi! I saw that your requests were open and I really like (and thinks it's cool) your art. I know you just uploaded a lily, but I was wondering if you might draw lily reading or studying? I just think it would be really cute! You don't have to! ^-^
I have a softspot for Lily and her occasional pranks.
REQUEST: @beenfangirlingsince1997: “May I request an imagine where Peter Pan is really possessive over the reader and he gets jealous really easily and the reader has been badly mentally abused and is a really self conscious shy girl and is really scared of Pan because she’s seen the crueler side of Pan and she gets really fidgety around violence and make it really super angsty. Oh and Pan and the reader aren’t together yet.”
- Peter Pan x Reader
- Fandom: Once Upon A Time
- Warnings: light cussing, angst
- Length: long af
- Take Note: I’m not used to writing in the point of view of a shy, abused, timid girl because I personally am not any of those, but I tried my best! Also this is my first time writing in the “you” point of view ahhhh
You look up at the sound of your name to see Devin walking towards you.
“Want to go fishing with me?” he asks. “For dinner?”
“Uhm, sure.” You hesitantly nod. Though you weren’t very good at fishing, it would get you away from camp…away from Pan. It seemed he was always hovering over you. You had hardly any freedom, and his possessiveness over you was becoming suffocating lately. You wanted—no, needed—to get out. You saw Pan nowhere in sight, thank god. A rare and perfect chance to slip away for a little bit. Great timing, Devin.
“Great,” Devin smiles at you, and you smile back. He hands you one of the two fishing spears he’d been holding and you both head out of camp and onto one of the trails. You become more and more joyful with each step. What a great day you were about to have, away from Pan’s scorching eyes and demonic presence.
You and Devin walk side by side along a well-used path, leaving the camp farther and farther behind. You breathe in deeply, joy filling your chest as much as the air. You and Devin made small talk as you walked, until you neared the river, in which you stopped talking to listen to the sound of water rushing and splashing up ahead. Upon first sight, you halt and stare in awe at the sparkling water flowing smoothly, the sunlight reflecting off the water and making it shimmer like diamonds. It wasn’t very often you were able to come to this river.
Devin leads you to an outcrop of large, smooth gray boulders tumbling from the bank and into the river. “This is my favorite spot to fish,” he says as you carefully follow him onto the rocks, watching the water flow beneath you in amazement. Devin crouches low with his spear pointed at the water, posed and ready to strike. You copy his lead, but don’t stare into the river as intently as he does. Instead your gaze travels to the forest around you. So serene, beautiful, so peaceful. An amazing change in scenery compared to the same old camp you were in all day every day. You took it all in as much as you could, once again breathing in deeply and inhaling the wonderful earthy scents and the fresh, moist smell the river gave off. “This is nice,” you murmur.
Devin glances back at you, his lips curved in a teasing smile. “Not as nice as this juicy fish I’m about to catch,” he jokes. You laugh and he laughs, and you feel so much better than you have in a long while. You push away the thought of Pan’s anger that was sure to follow your little day out with Devin, which was very hard to do, but you refused to let it eat away at you and ruin this moment. You try your best to focus all your attention on the beauty around you instead.
“We should do this more often,” Devin comments. “You don’t leave camp much, but you seem to really enjoy being out here.”
“I know. I wish I could do this every day,” you reply, not bothering to hide the longing in your voice.
“Then why don’t you?”
“Pan.” You say bluntly. “He’ll, um, he’ll probably have my head on a spike just for being out here with you right now.”
Devin frowns, his spear lowering in lack of focus to it. “I know Pan is our leader and all, but surely you can’t let him keep you on such a tight leash like that? We have freedom, I don’t see why you can’t.”
“It’s easier said than done, confronting him.” You point out. “Pan…terrifies me. I’ve seen how cruel he can be. You have too.”
“Surely, if you just talk to Pan—”
“That’s not an option,” you interrupt, then immediately feel bad for cutting him off. But you hate how you’re talking about Pan on the one chance you get to be away from him.
“Why not?” Devin asks.
“You know Pan,” you let out a sigh.
“But you’re a girl,” Devin says. “And the only girl at that. Won’t that give you some benefits?”
Your face creases in disgust. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know, I-I just thought—”
“Devin,” you break him off again, “Have you heard about Wendy?”
“Wendy?” The mood instantly turns grimmer and he stares at you warily . “Um….why?” (photo)
“I’ve been told about Wendy before,” you tell him. “I don’t know any details, I hardly know anything about her at all, actually. Just that she was a girl who came to Neverland, and Pan…” you gulp, your heart starting to beat faster. Man, just thinking about Wendy can make you break out in a cold sweat. “…Pan kept her locked in a cage…” and he did things to her. You don’t know why but you left out that last part.
Devin’s eyes widen briefly, before he swiftly turns back to watching the river, purposely aiming his spear closer to the water. “Never heard of that before. The other boys are just trying to scare you.”
“Don’t play dumb,” you flash.
“I’m not,” he says. “If Pan kept a girl locked in a cage, wouldn’t he do the same to you? What makes you so special?”
You put your mind to work, rolling through all of the vague things the others have told you. “Well, I’ve been told that Wendy didn’t want to stay on Neverland, and that’s why Pan kept her locked up. That Wendy liked her home, her family, wanted to go back. You? Me? We came from bad situations. We were unloved, unwanted, lost…” you trail off, pushing away the awful memories of your life before you were taken to Neverland.
“I know all this,” Devin says. “We’re called the Lost Boys for a reason. But I’ve never heard about this Wendy girl in my life. It doesn’t even make sense. The only children that come here are those who are unloved, so why would Wendy come here in the first place if she was loved and wanted? It’s called logic.”
Devin was either a really good liar or he was telling the truth. You thought about confronting the boys who told you about Wendy, maybe see if you can get more out of them or get them to admit they were lying, but you were not sure you had the confidence to do it. You sure as hell didn’t have the courage to ask Pan about it.
“Okay,” you end the conversation with that, opting you’d rather cherish your precious time here than waste it arguing about Pan and this so-called Wendy, and your painfully low self-esteem.
You move away from Devin and onto a rock a few feet away, peering down at the water with your spear ready to strike. Anything to get your mind off what’s bothering you.
“You’ll never catch a fish like that.”
Your blood turns to ice in your veins. That was not Devin’s voice. Heart pounding, you turn around to see none other than Peter Pan standing on the rocks behind you, arms crossed, glaring at you in a way that was sinister.
“You were leaning too far over the edge,” he says simply, almost sounding bored yet criticizing at the same time. “The fish would’ve been able to see your shadow and never come near the rock.” (gif)
“Pan…” You gasp, standing up slowly. Dread and fear surged through you and your mind blanked in panic. Did he hear any of your conversation? If he did you were dead. That’d be the end of you.
“(Y/n) and I were just fishing,” Devin explains, sounding a little bit defensive. He moves over to your side, holding the spear over his shoulder with his hand resting on it.
“I can see that,” Pan growls, his eyes narrowing and chin lifting. “But what I don’t see is any fish. What have you been doing all this time?”
You take a step back, not liking the jealously that seemed to flow off him in waves. But as you do, you fall off the edge of the rock and into the water below. Cold waves splash over your shocked body as the water sucks you under and utter panic engulfs you. You drown and die.
Just kidding yall…okay resuming where I left off:
You’ve seen Pan when he was outraged, and it was not pretty. “I’m sorry,” you begin desperately. “Devin and I were just fishing, what else would we be doing? I’m sorry, Pan, I’m sorry.” You didn’t even have to wonder how he knew your exact location as you remembered Peter Pan knew everything that happened on his island. I’m so stupid! How could I forget? And I’m so dead…
“Stop it, (y/n),” Pan says. “Don’t you remember the first rule of being a Lost Boy? You never apologize.”
You stop yourself from saying you’re sorry again. As you grope for something else to say, Pan continues: “And do you remember the second rule?” His expression darkens menacingly. “You never disobey me.”
All the color left your face in pure fear. Oh shit. This was not good. You were in extremely deep trouble.
“What did (y/n) do to disobey you?” Devin asks boldly. You turn a pleading gaze on him; speaking out against Pan was sure too get him—you don’t want to think about it—killed.
“Oh, did I not make myself clear?” Pan growls. (gif)
He moves closer to you, the faintest of a smirk on one corner of his lips. Your breath hitches in your throat and you gulp, bringing your gaze down but without tilting your head. Pan lifts a hand up to your cheek and you almost flinch, except the movement was slow. His knuckles hover there without touching your skin. He looks over at Devin with a smug grin, slipping a strand of your hair through his fingers. As your hair falls back down, his piercing eyes land on you once more. “(Y/n)….” his breath feels warm on your nose, his voice sending tingles of fright down your spine.
Pan turns his back towards you as he steps away before spinning back around with a devilish, wide smile, his arms out as if presenting something. His voice is boisterous. “You’re mine, and mine alone.” (gif).
“I-I’m…” yours? You can’t finish the sentence. Your heart is hammering against your chest so hard you’re sure that’s why you’re trembling.
“Don’t be afraid,” Pan purrs (gif). “Be flattered.”
Later that evening, you were sitting in your tent, reliving the events of that day over and over in your head. After Pan had claimed you as his, he sent you back to camp ahead of him and Devin. You were scared for Devin, and had anxiously waited for his return. When he finally came back with Pan he seemed fine but hardly spoke a word to you. After that you’d gone into your tent and stayed there, even more afraid to see Pan again. More so of being conflicted and confused than the fear of him as a person.
You’re mine and mine alone. What did that mean exactly? Don’t be afraid, be flattered. You take a deep breath. Don’t be afraid. Most of all, that’s what circles round and round in your head. Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid. Did that mean he wouldn’t hurt you; do things to you that he might’ve done to Wendy?
The tent flap zips open unexpectedly, making you jump with a start. Joseph sticks his head in. “You hungry?” he asks. “Dinner’s been ready for a while now. If you don’t get your butt out here there’ll be nothing left.” Then he leaves, leaving your tent open.
Reluctantly, you crawl out and stand up, your eyes darting around nervously for any sight of Pan. He’s there, sitting by the fire in the midst of the Lost Boys. He’s holding his infamous panpipes, fiddling with them in his hands as if contemplating whether he wants to play them or not. He looks up at you (gif), as if you’d made a big announcement emerging from your tent even though he couldn’t have possibly have heard you come out. Your breath catches in your throat and you avert your gaze.
You see Devin sitting on a log, eating. He’s sitting with Marcus, Kane, and Millard, laughing and chatting. You walk over to them and as you near Devin looks up at you, forces himself to swallow, and wipes his arm over his mouth, smearing some of the dark meat juice onto his cheek. It looked eerily like blood in the dim lighting. Maybe it was. “Uh, hey, (y/n),” he says rather awkwardly.
“Um, hi. Mind if I join?” you ask.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
You whip around at the Pan’s voice. Damn, what’s up with him doing that? He’s standing right behind you, his jaw taut. “As you can see, there’s no room on that log anyways,”
“Pan,” you stammer, fizzing with anxiety. “I, uh, I um…” you trail off as you see Pan’s body stiffen. His muscles tense, his eyes loose their irritation as they glaze over, as if he were staring at something we cannot see.
“Pirates,” he growls a few moments later, his gaze clearing. Of course: Pan had just sensed someone arriving in Neverland. He grins—a grin you know all too well. It sends shivers down your spine. “Looks like we have some guests. Lost Boys, get over here!”
At his call, everyone stops what they’re doing and gathers around you and Pan, looking at their leader expectantly. You try to inch away, not comfortable with the way all the boys are closing in around you, tightly packing you in.
“What is it, Pan?” Felix asks.
“Pirates have just arrived,” Pan explains, his eyes shining in a wicked delight. “Ready for some fun, boys?”
They hoot and holler, whilst you cower away at all their excitement for bloodshed. Even Devin joins in, his arm pumping the air in a circular motion as he whoops. You, however, stay quiet. You just can’t understand how everyone finds fighting fun. It terrifies you, in fact. Just the thought of battling ruthless, vicious, grown men with sharp swords makes your heart start to pound.
“Sharpen your knives, boys, we’ve got no time to waste!” Pan declares. “We attack at first light!”
As your campmates disperse, gathering their weapons, you hurry back towards your tent, eager to get away from all this upheaval.
“(Y/n)!” You freeze in your tracks as your name is barked, and turn around to meet Pan’s tyrannizing stare. “Will you be a lad and dip the arrows in dreamshade?”
It was an order disguised as a question. “Yes, Pan,” You obey, not daring to look him in the eye. You leave quickly, afraid to linger around him.
You climb up the handmade ladder to Pan’s tree house, where he keeps the dreamshade poison. Once up, you give the door a slight push and it slowly swings open with a prolonged creak. It’s quiet and dark inside. You walk across the bare room, scanning for the jar of the deadly, thick liquid bound to be on one of the shelves. You don’t like being inside Pan’s den; it gives off a dark feeling. Peter Pan owns the entire island, yes, and everything is his, yes, but this…this, this is his most personal space. Being inside it makes you feel the most vulnerable, if that were even possible. You’re just thankful he isn’t in here with you. You see the dreamshade, but just as you reach out for it, the door behind you shuts.
Your heart skips a beat in surprise and you turn around to see Pan standing there, his eyes focused on you with such intensity you can almost feel it.
“Pan!” you stutter. You take the jar off the shelf and grip it tightly, trying to suppress your fear. “I was just getting the dreamshade, like you asked.”
“Of course, (y/n),” Pan drawls, walking towards you.
Your breathing becomes labored. You wish you were anywhere else right now, anywhere but here.
“Do you believe it?” he says quietly.
“Believe what?” you ask timidly.
“The story about Wendy.”
You almost drop the jar in your fear and surprise. “H-how did you know?”
“I know everything,” he answers.
Did he overhear you and Devin? “I…I don’t know,” you admit.
Pan is silent, staring at you. You shift uncomfortably, your hands clammy with foreboding.
“I would never do anything like that to you,” he says finally.
You jerk your gaze to him in surprise. You can feel your pulse pounding in your temples.
His eyes are dark in the shadows. “Do you trust me?”
You inhale a shaky breath. “There’s something I see in you. It might kill me.”
Pan’s face lifts in a twisted smile, which scares the shit out of you. When you say that to someone, their response shouldn’t be a crazed smile, right? Right? “I-is it true?”
His smirk never falters. “You’ll figure that one out on your own.”
You desperately try to hide how fearful you are. You can hardly control the tremor in your voice as you say, “Do I want to find out?”
“I won’t hurt you, (y/n).” Pan murmurs. “Have I ever hurt you? Answer the question, (y/n).”
You swallow, your throat dry. “N-no.”
“I know where you come from,” he begins. “I know how unloved you were. You withered away, neglected, unwanted, unvalued, lost to everything. It was the same for all my Lost Boys. That’s why they’re here. And since being here, they’ve changed. Came out of their shells. Expressed who they really are. And do you see them? They’re happy. Wild. Free. But here you are, you’re still scared and lonely.”
You close your eyes tight, fighting back the anguish rising in your throat. Ever since you were brought here you’ve buried your past, you’ve tried to burn it to ashes, to wipe it from existence. And now Pan was bringing it all back up again. But you can’t deny that what he’s saying is true.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” Pan says, and of all things, he’s smiling mischievously. “I can make you forget about it all. I can make you feel things you’ve never felt before. I promise.”
You can’t believe this is happening. It feels like you can’t get enough air. “Promise is a strong word,” you remark.
“I may not be the most well-behaved boy on the island, but I always keep my promises.”
You push down the fear, forcing it away. You had no need to be scared anymore. He won’t hurt me. “I trust you.” You say it so quietly you aren’t sure he heard, but of course he did.
Pan takes the jar of poison from your hands, his piercing green stare never leaving yours. “I’ll take this off of you now.” He sets it back on the shelf, but as his hand comes back down it touches your shoulder, his finger trailing along the hem of your shirt. He arches an eyebrow, smirking. “And this too.”
Submitted by: @mamapeterson (I really hope it’s not shit and that y’all like it…personal shit and what not…)
*Warning!!! *Depression and mentions of attempted suicide* Do not read if this might upset you!*
Dean was home early. Earlier than you had originally expected.
‘Great.’ You thought to yourself as you heard his loud hurried footsteps on the stairs. He must have read your note that you left him on the kitchen counter.
Not a moment later he kicked down the bathroom door, small wooden splinters flying in the air at the force he used, which also caused you to jump and drop the large white pill bottle out of your hand.
Slowly you turned around and faced Dean. His face held numerous emotions. Fear, panic, relief, and now you could see slight anger growing in his eyes as tears cascaded down them, “What the hell are you doing Y/N?!”
“I-I…you aren’t supposed to be home yet…”
“Well it’s a good thing I came home when I did! I was going to surprise you but…I come home to that note downstairs instead.” He sighed out your name as he carefully reached out to grab your hand, moving to seat you on the side of the tub while he takes the floor. “Baby…what’s-what’s going on? Why do you feel the need to do this? You know this isn’t an option, right? We can work this out…together. You just have to let me help you.”
You had started to cry while he gently spoke to you and stroked your hand with his thumb, “I’m t-too broken D-Dean…you don’t really love me, you say you do but I know it’s all just pity for the poor girl who has no one. I’m just broken.” You repeated that phrase like it was your life’s mantra.
“I don’t care.” Dean’s teary eyes were trained on you as his voice cracked under the heavy weight of emotion. “I don’t care if you’re broken, do you think I’m the most stable person on this planet? Cause I sure the hell ain’t sweetheart.” He moved to sit up on his knees so that his face could be closer to yours, “And Y/N don’t you dare for one second think that I don’t really love you. You’re more important than anything else to me. I love you with my whole being and if only you could see how much you mean to me through my eyes you would understand. It’s not pity, baby, it’s true love.”
He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and kissed you on the forehead, “It’s just your mind telling you shit and you can’t always listen to what it has to say. I’ll always be here to talk it out so you don’t think you have to resort to this-” Dean points to the white tiled floor with the multi-colored pills lying across it, “-ever again. Okay? Are you gonna let me help you?”
At that point you were trying your hardest to keep your cool while he spoke but right after he finished, it’s like the whole dam broke. You threw yourself into his arms and started sobbing, “I’m s-sorry…I-I’m so sorry!”
Dean held you tight against him and let you cry it all out, he was even crying himself. “Sshhh it’s okay, just don’t ever scare me like that again. I don’t know what I would have done if I found yo-” Dean shook his head and tried to level out his breathing, he had to stay strong for you, “But I didn’t and we’re going to get you the help that you need. Come on now, let’s go lie down in bed.”
He felt you nod against his shoulder and then picked you up, walking you over to the bed. Ever so gently laying you down, he got in beside you and never let you out of his sight or his grasp for the rest of the night. Well except to go get the pizza from the delivery boy and to also flush all of those pills down the toilet; that inevitable circumstance to what you were planning still looming over his head as he crawled back into the bed with you.
You had quite the challenge ahead of you but as long as you worked through it together, with him, you knew you were going to be okay.
there are only two possible explanations for why Lee no longer has sleeves in the Boruto-era: either he was out with baby Metal one day and didn’t realize he was out of diapers, and they were sacrificed for Metal’s baby poop - or something like this post happened. let’s explore the latter.
Lee did not want to get out of bed.
Popular though the desire to stay wrapped inside a blanket burrito may be, it was relatively foreign to Lee. Usually he had to be persuaded to stay in bed or still… and unconsciousness didn’t guarantee either of the two. Truly, the best way to lure him into aching to inhabit a sleep cocoon is to put a cozy, sleeping, sex-drunk Kazekage in the bed next to him.
Gaara looked so snoodly when he slept. He always curled into Lee, with his hands grabbing for any bit of his boyfriend that he could get - an arm, another hand, a nipple - anything to keep them connected. Lee didn’t make cuddling easy, since his body naturally assumed a jazz-hands star fish pose the deeper into sleep he fell, but Gaara always found some bit of skin and held on.
MORE FUTABA AND AKECHI SPECULATION FOR YOUR PURPOSES
BECAUSE I NEVER GIVE THE FUCK UP
Okay let’s actually look at this in a more genuine light. Specifically I want to look at something I noticed about halfway through the game: that there is a weird parallel between Akechi and Futaba that’s never really brought to attention. I mean, you know, outside of the ‘he’s actually like us’ line.
Both are highly intelligent but have a severe issue with socialization. They both rely on their abilities to sustain the idea of them being around because they don’t feel they have a place among a social society (and are attempted to be drawn out of this shell, with differing levels of success, by the protagonist character). Both have a non-existent father figure who ditched them, and a mother figure who struggled to raise a single child and eventually died when they were young. Both seem to blame their own existence for the death of said mother figure.
Futaba is the introvert version of Akechi.
Akechi is the extrovert version of Futaba.
Both are isolating themselves from society out of an innate fear of stigma and rejection, they just do it in different ways – Futaba by leaving society as much as she can, and Akechi by being an omnipresent celebrity without actually making any meaningful social connections.
None of this actually means my theory of them being half siblings is true but I feel like these parallels are an interesting thing to think about. But that does bring me to one final point that I would like to discuss REGARDING the half siblings theory: the mother resemblance. While we never see Akechi’s mother in the game, its basically all but stated that he strongly resembles his mother over any resemblance to his father (which is true, he looks NOTHING like Shido aside from that I think they have the same eye color). But…that brings up something interesting too.
Who does FUTABA most look like?
I don’t know if its just me but Futaba seems to resemble her mother a lot. She has the same sharp chin, a very similar lip structure, and a similar neck and shoulder build to Wakaba. And while her eyes are bigger than Wakaba’s, I could argue that that’s more due to age and that there’s a slight similarity in the eyes too. Where she got the eye color and red hair from, I couldn’t imagine, but this all stands to reason that like Akechi….Futaba has far more physically in common with her mother than her father. So this is another minute parallel that seems to exist between the two.
Again, none of this directly says that Futaba could be Shido’s child but the parallels between these two characters are so thick that I can’t be brought to believe that its a coincidence of some sort.
Because I have nothing else of value to say, here’s the promotional art that used red as Akechi’s hair color for the purpose of color parallels with Joker. Because while it has nothing to do with this, I still think its funny that there’s a picture of redhead Akechi when there’s a potential of him having a redhead half sister. Again, nothing for certain, just for fun.
Edit: pfft whoops I forgot to tag this as spoilers sorry, I’m not used to blogging about shit that’s actually NEW
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Summary: Dean doesn’t agree that the reader should cast a celibacy spell. Warnings: Mentions of sex, swearing, explicit language. Word Count: 2.061 A/N: Thank you for the amazing feedback everyone! I hope you’ll like this part too, and please make sure to tell me what you think! I love feedback, it makes me so happy! Kisses, Dream :* Gif’s not mine!
you’re being ridiculous.” A low whisper woke you up and made you stop drooling
on a book, your hair covering your face as you realized you must’ve dozed off
while researching and the brothers were still researching.
“I’m not!” Dean
whispered “I’m just saying, like… how does that work?”
“I don’t know if
it has escaped your notice, but I’m not a witch, Dean. I have no idea.”
“But think about
“I’m not gonna
think about what virginity of a witch includes, Jesus Christ, what is wrong
Height: 1,50 cm - 1,55 cm (with shoes) / 4'11 ft. (Pfffff)
Weight: 37 kg.
Eye color: Green-Blue colour.
Skin tone: Very pale.
His cheeks are always blushed.
Has a sleepy face all the time.
// Personality. ♡ //
He’s innocent, But not pure.
He doesn’t know what’s the difference between good and bad either.
Actually acts like he’s bad and evil (When he’s not) just for you to hate him. But it’s hard with Freddy-
Does not like to become fond with somebody, Because wouldn’t like to be hurted again. (still, Loves his boyfriend-)
Insecure and deppresed child, Lonely.
He feels sorry for all the shit he did before, Even if it’s not his fault.
Childres scares him so bad-
Actually are scared of Foxy someway, that’s why he’s bad at him.
Hates when ppl calls him “Child” or “Smol”, He didn’t wantes to be small and adorable, y'know- (??
Actually, Acts like he doesn’t care when people insult him and replies, but ends up crying alone.
Best friends with Puppet! He loves him so much (As a friend way), And doesn’t realize that Puppet likes him in a different way-
Lets Bonnie hurt him cuz he understands what Bonn feels like… He’s too good for this world. >:^(
Probably he just eats Honey(?) and sweets. Thanks to god that he can’t die for diabetes-
Gets mad easily-
He can float, and also make other things float too.
Has a Stuffed Yellow Bunny and hugs it all the time.
Please do not give him much sugar, He gets hyperactive-
// E x t r a. ♥✨ //
- Doesn’t sleep cuz can’t handle more nightmares.
- Loves his boyfriend too fucking much, 200%.
- My god, He’s too cute.
- It’s funny when he’s hyperactive bc too much sugar x"D
Since it is not going away, and I was forced to unfollow several who would not shut up about it (Don’t worry, it was all disgustingly negative), I decided to go ahead and post my opinion on it.
The Chainsmokers are disgusting, yes. They are little boys who need to grow up. We don’t know their intentions with BTS, and honestly that is NOT our mission to debunk. BTS are obviously fans of theirs, and we need to respect their decision and hope for the best instead of going around with the following:
“I wonder if I can cancel my preorder?”
“The album is tarnished now”
“BTS is going to get played”
“Great, I am never going to enjoy this album now”
“I will never support this song or the album”
And I’ve seen much more and worse going around.
Yes, it is good to have your own opinion, but there is a point where your opinion is not respectful anymore and just plain rude and irritating. BTS are full grown men capable of their own choices. They are not babies, who you need to babysit. If something happens with the Chainsmokers, I am sure they will have it well in hand. They have taken care of everything when it came to them getting played. Quit acting like you are their management. You are a fan, and it is a privilege to be a fan. Know your boundaries. If you don’t like the song, then fine so be it. But don’t take it up with them, just let things be.
Now another thing I saw, that horrified me and pissed me off to no end was several comments a tumblr made. I will not name this tumblr, as I do not want to start shit. That is not what I am trying to do here. Several comments were about the Chainsmokers being white… I do not remember the full comment, so I will not quote it verbatim, but here is the jist.
“Most boys that cause problems are white….So they are trashy white boys”
This is offensive. To continuously (she did it over and over again) call them out on their skin color, and that makes them even worse? They are trashy because they are white? Sorry, honey, that is a form of racism. The Chainsmokers are a lot of things, but their skin color shouldn’t be a factor EVER. Be them black or Asian.
If you guys want this collab and this song to be a negative experience, then you all are doing a bang up job.