#Sam what have you done. I wanna sue you

[the-labyrinth-of-me]

*nudges alan wake 2 with my foot* go away from my stupid overthinking brain. go.

[hellverse]

wrote a little thing (emphasis on little) about dean trying to provoke cas and cas being, well, a little slow about it. check it out on ao3 or below the cut if you wanna, xo

Dean was bored. So. Very. Bored. He was convinced that if there was anything left to learn, they would have learnt it by now. Sam had already clocked himself out about an hour or so ago, which in his mind, served as a pretty good sign that they could be done for the night. They could just continue this tomorrow. Or later. Or simply at any other time but now. Because right now, Dean just wanted to drag Cas to their bedroom, and certainly not for sleeping purposes. It wasn't like he was touch starved, the two of them spent plenty of time passing up on some good night sleeps, trading them for early morning coffees and midday naps. But sometimes, Cas would get into one of those stubborn, help-the-world moods, where nothing else seemed to register. One could call it dedication, Dean, however, liked to think of it as the evil reverse viagra he had to defeat. 

And of course, as Dean’s luck would have it, they had been stuck in a bit of a loop recently. Although he was pretty sure Sam could handle it on his own, if he wanted, or passed it on to someone else, he and Cas were insistent on helping. At the end of the day, Dean knew he would’ve made the same decision, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. He felt somewhat normal for the first time in, well, a while, and wanted to stay in their little bubble just a little longer. Sue him. But...duty calls. 

Dean was sitting with his legs stretched, crossed at the ankles, staring at the ceiling, when he turned his head to take a peek at Cas. The angel was burning holes into some book, concentrating at such a level he almost looked like a statue - an immortalised bookworm. Cute. Hot, even. There was something about the way his face looked, how serious he was, how his brows were just a little furrowed, and how the line between them was starting to show itself. It certainly reminded me of Dean of something. 

“Cas," no answer, "Cas!” 

The angel lifted his head in Dean’s direction, keeping his eyes on the book for five seconds longer before eventually looking at him. Cas smiled, something small and sweet dancing at the corners of his mouth. It was making Dean even more antsy, just thinking about how different his smile could be if he were to just- 

“Did you want something?” Cas interrupted before he could even finish his thought. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I did. Um, are you gonna be, uh, done soon?” 

"You can go to bed if you're tired, Dean, I don't mind staying here on my own," he said almost matter-of-factly. 

If only that were the issue , Dean thought to himself. Admittedly, he could just tell Cas what he wants, it's not like the angel couldn't return to this later, after all, he's not the one who needs sleep. The issue, however, would be that Dean wouldn’t want him to leave. He never does. And although they haven’t ever discussed it, he has a feeling that Cas doesn’t like it either. Call it a hunch. 

As much as Dean couldn’t focus on the research, he also knew, believed really, that he had enough brain power left in him to come up with a plan. Okay, maybe less plan, more technique of how to turn Cas away from reading and more to, well, him. 

While the wheels were turning in his head, he must've been staring at Cas pretty intensely, as his blue eyes suddenly left the page again, locking with Dean's own. He could see the other glance down for just a second, where his thumb was resting on his lower lip, before speaking. 

"Is everything okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm wonderful," Dean quickly answered, smiling, purposefully dragging the thumb across his lip. 

Cas stared at him for a second, wheels of his own probably spinning in that pretty head of his. Eventually, however, much to Dean's dislike, he turned back to the book. 

The thing about Cas was that he could be a little...unaware sometimes. Especially when his mind was focused on something else. And what is there for Dean to do, if not have a little fun with it? He wasn't opposed to some light teasing, provoking, especially when he could watch Cas slowly get the point of what Dean was suggesting, watch the little light bulb go off behind his eyes. 

Even with the anticipation buzzing all the way down to his fingertips, Dean wanted to make sure he would see this through. It was already past midnight, but he was sure coffee could only do some good, considering the plans he had. And besides, Cas could have some too. Not that he needed it, of course, but it had become something of a habit for the angel. 

"I'm gonna go fetch some coffee, do you want some, sweetheart?" Dean let his voice go sweet, putting a certain weight behind the pet name. They weren't exactly big on those, but when the moment calls...

Cas stared at him again, head slightly titled. Dean couldn't quite tell if he was getting suspicious or just a little ticked off by all the interruptions. 

"Sure, I'll take some if you're going."

Dean beamed at him, as he got up from his chair. Before going to the kitchen, however, he decided to see exactly what Cas was reading. And by 'see', he really meant lean down and pretend like he had a reason as to why he's gone over to Cas' side of the table before getting the coffee. Dean positioned himself on the left of the angel, resting the palm of his hand on the table, and putting the other hand on Cas' back, lightly drawing circles on the skin with his middle finger, right above where his shirt that Cas was wearing began. 

"Which book is this?" Dean asked, slightly turning his head in Cas' direction, but not looking at him. 

"The, um, it's about-"

"No," he chuckled, "I mean the number, how many have you read?" 

"Oh," Cas smiled, "I think this must be my fifth if I'm remembering correctly."

"Ah, well, haven't you just been such a hard worker today?" he placed a quick kiss on Cas' temple, before finally making his way to the kitchen. 

"Such hard work should be followed by a good reward," Dean whispered to himself. 

When he returned with the two coffees, Cas was still in the same position. Figures. He shuffled towards him, placing both of the mugs closer to the middle of the table, so as not to disturb the books placed in a half circle around the angel. 

"Hey," Dean muttered quietly, letting Cas know he was back, just in case he was too focused and didn't hear him come back. 

"Hi, Dean, thank you," he smiled.

It was moments like these, where it was just the two of them, the world quiet and calm like a field covered in snow, no wind and no footsteps, that convinced Dean he would never not feel the way he does now. Even before the confessions and first kisses, there was something about the way Cas would smile at him. It always went hand in hand with a pinch between his ribs, somewhat painful and warm. He kind of expected it to change, now that he knew the other felt the same, now that he had stopped telling himself it would never happen, now that the two of them were different. And yet it hadn't, not really. It knocks something in him loose every time, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't glad. 

Cas put his book down, interrupting Dean's thoughts once again, presumably to take a sip of his coffee, and Dean simply couldn't pass up that chance. He leant down, gently placing his hands on either side of the angel's face, and kissed him. The immediate jolt at the base of his spine served as a great reminder of what he was after. Cas kissed him back with no hesitation, something lazy and content in the way his lips were moving against Dean's own. That alone was enough for him to rethink his ways, thoughts of just grabbing Cas by the hand and dragging him to their bedroom flooding his mind. But again, where was the fun in that? More than anything, he was craving to see that light bulb moment, when Cas' eyes turned a darker shade of blue, knowing that the buzz in their stomachs and fingers matched each others. 

Dean decided to stay set in his ways, but that didn't mean his self-control was intact. He deepened the kiss, urgency colouring his own quiet sounds, tongue brushing against Cas' lower lip. He could feel one of the angel's hands, the one resting on his waist, softly grabbing at his shirt. 

He ended the kiss with a sharp inhale, eyes closed for a second longer, til the ground beneath his feet felt solid again. 

"Dean.." the rasp in Cas' voice almost made Dean lose his footing again. A beat of silence covered the room, letting Dean focus on the pulsating feeling in his cheeks. 

"What was that for?" Cas looked serious but only in a confused, have-I-missed-something kind of way. It took Dean everything he had not to jump him again. Instead, he just flashed a quick grin at Cas and winked. 

"Nothin', blue eyes, 's just because," he said, giving Cas one last peck on the lips.

He could feel Cas' eyes follow him, as he walked back to his side of the table, right across from Cas. When he looked up, he could see the slight twitch in the angel's eyebrow. For a celestial being, especially one that has seen a lot of what the world has to offer, he really couldn't be any more oblivious sometimes. 

Dean sat back in his chair, the warm coffee cup in his hands matching the warmth in the pit of his stomach. Cas was back to reading again, though Dean could tell he was a little more fidgety than before. He smiled to himself, as he lifted the cup to his lips. He could pretend he was reading, but even that seemed like too much work. After all, he was more than happy to just watch Cas. With the angel already slightly on edge, it was only a matter of time before he was glancing up at Dean every few minutes. 

"Dean...," Cas finally broke after about 30 minutes.

"What?" Dean answered, playing it up just a little bit to sound offended. 

"Why are you staring?"

"Can I not look at my very handsome boyfriend?" he smiled. If there was a gun to his head, he'd have to admit he even fluttered his eyelashes a little.  

The term 'boyfriend', similar to pet names, wasn't something that the pair used very often, but sometimes, well, there was just no way getting past it. Dean didn't necessarily mind the word, just needed some time to get used to it, he thought. 

He could see the slight blush forming in Cas' cheeks. The angel lowered his head, about to return to his task, before looking back up at Dean through his eyebrows for a split second. A look nearly bordering on 'knock it off', but not quite. 

The glances continued, almost like Cas was trying to catch him in the act, like something he did would give away whatever it was that he was thinking. Dean, of course, only saw that as an opportunity to continue his little show. 

By this point he had already finished his coffee, the ring finger of his right hand sliding in circles around the rim of the cup. It wasn't exactly a conscious action, not until he saw Cas glance at his hand. After that, he made it a point to look Cas up and down the next time his eyes wandered back to Dean. The angel only squinted at him.

He had noticed Cas finish off his own coffee not too long ago, so after a few minutes of pretend daydreaming, he got up, hand under his shirt, the palm of his hand resting on his ribs. This time around it wasn't so unintentional, his shirt pulling up slightly, exposing the skin. If Cas could burn holes in him, he was sure he'd be all burnt up by now. But who was he to complain? 

He slowly made his way to the kitchen for a second time, washing up the cups, and sorting out a few other things while he was there. It was nearing 4 am, and as entertaining as it had been, Dean was ready to actually get things going. 

He walked back into the library with a purpose, heading straight to Cas. The angel didn't even have time to blink before Dean was already in front of him, arm stretched out as if he was asking him to dance. Cas put his hand in Dean's, suspicion in his eyes almost completely masked by the gentle amusement. 

Dean barely waited for him to get on his feet before grabbing Cas by the waist with one hand and dragging him closer. Cas just smiled, head tilted to the left ever so slightly.  Good , Dean thought,  better access . 

"I think you should be done now," Dean muttered before scattering light kisses on Cas' neck. 

"Oh, should I?" the angel said, amusement now clear in his voice, Dean humming against his neck.

Dean lifted his head only to give Cas a look that in his head couldn't have looked anything short of hungry. That must've finally filled the missing gap in the angel's mind, as Cas' face finally mirrored the expression that Dean had been thinking about for hours now. The split second of surprise bled into understanding, and his eyes darkened. Maybe it wasn't so much a light bulb going off, as it was a light bulb exploding.

"Oh," Cas whispered.

"Oh," Dean echoed, teasing, whilst it was still his turn. 

"I think you might be right," Cas said, as he stepped forward, hand resting on Dean's chest, softly pushing him back, "I've done enough work for today."

Dean let the angel guide him until he felt his back hit the pillar, the coldness of it seeping through his shirt, a nice distraction from the heat of his own body. Though that didn't last long, as Cas pressed against him, hands sneaking under his shirt, much like Dean himself had done earlier. Cas slid his hand up and down Dean's sides, his fingertips occasionally sinking into Dean's skin. 

He launched forward, only to have Cas swiftly pull back like he was already expecting it. As soon as Dean let his head fall back, resting against the pillar, Cas leaned closer to him again, lips almost touching and whispered:

"I understand you've had your fun, but what about me?" voice sweet, smiling, moving further back and then closer again in waves. 

"Cas..." Dean breathed just as quietly, his throat dry, "Cas, once we get to the bedroom you can have all the fun you want."

"Oh," Cas immediately pulled back, "well, if you say so, Dean." 

As soon as the sentence left Cas' lips, Dean knew. He knew that Cas wouldn't let up until Dean was bordering on incoherent, and, oh, he just couldn't wait. 

[egoludes]

satisfaction guaranteed.

summary: your super soldiers hear there’s a new contender in the bedroom; they intend to learn all about it.

pairing: stucky x reader.

notes: ok, i’ll admit it - this is so outrageously self-indulgent and fully inspired by a recent, um, purchase. i was hoping to get it out in time for valentine’s day, but then work kicked my ass - so consider it a delayed love letter to y’all heh. my apologies in advance to the manufacturers of the sex toy featured here; please don’t sue me? borders from deathlyrph!

warnings: nsfw / 18+, threesome, sex toy, implied & light overstimulation

He doesn’t mean to listen in - scout’s honor.

There just isn’t much that Bucky’s super soldier hearing misses and the raving of some very giddy --- and very drunk --- Avengers is nowhere near that list. He’s actually pleased to hear the way you, Natasha, and Wanda are carrying on when he rounds the corner. Missions have been taking a toll lately, keeping everyone on the team on edge and up late. You, in particular, have been distant, putting on a facade that never quite reaches your eyes, and he and Steve have been on wit’s end trying to perk you up.

The ladies, it seems, have it all figured out.  You’re laughing freely for the first time in weeks, and Bucky’s grateful that no one (particularly Sam) can see the way the sound makes him utterly lovesick. His adoration keeps him still a few seconds longer, basking in how free you seem, but he doesn’t intend to stay much past that. In fact, he’s a half-step into leaving when he hears it:

“So, wait -- have you tried it yet? The Satisfyer?” 

Confusion brings him to a full stop. Satisfyer? 

That feeling only grows, knitting his eyebrows, when you’re the one to answer with an emphatic, and damn near dreamy “Yes.”

Bucky’s an intelligent man and the name alone is a pretty effective context clue. Still, he doesn’t really put it together until Wanda squeals and Nat (who he can see in his mind’s eye, clear as day, leaning into you with that cheeky smirk) pushes you for more.

“It’s kind of...overwhelming,” you continue, pausing to refill your glass, “but in the best way. Like in a ‘How did I ever masturbate before this’ kind of way. My knees literally buckled when I got up after. Can you believe that? Buckled! I was fuckin’ woozy! ” He can tell you’re animated just by the way your volume starts to rise and whatever you’re doing must be endearing because even Natasha is chuckling.

Bucky still loves it, don’t get him wrong. In fact, he adores you excited like this, especially after all the darkness lately. But, there’s something genuinely puzzling about so much excitement around a sex toy. He hadn’t even known you’d bought something new. When had you tried it? Where were he and Steve?

His thoughts start to swirl, intrigue and curiosity mounting in a wave that he pushes past with a step, then another, as he reminds himself that he has somewhere to be.

No chance he’ll be forgetting about this, though. 

Steve hears about it from Bucky. 

Secondhand stories can be tricky; full of exaggerations and misunderstanding. But, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe it. He just doesn’t comprehend the implications of it until he experiences it for himself. 

That happens on a Saturday afternoon. 

You’d been tense in training, taking hits you’ve dodged a thousand times and fumbling moves you’ve done twice that. A bad bout typically doesn’t do you in, but Steve can tell by the way your attacks grow more and more stilted, that you’re overextending just to make blows meet. 

It gets so bad that he breaks one of his few cardinal rules -- never pulling rank with you or Bucky outside of missions -- to get you out of the spar, and your frustration with it is as clear as the exhaustion that sags your limbs. You’re out the door before he can apologize, or explain.

An hour later, he’s showered and changed, seeking you out in your corner of the compound with peace offerings at the ready. This time, they come in the form of your favorite snack and a promise to spar with you himself the next time you’re scheduled - no holds barred. 

But, when you pull open the door at his knock, he’s surprised to see that he may not need them.

You’re completely...sated. The tension you’d had in your shoulders when you left the gym is nowhere to be found and in its place is a sheen of satisfaction. It’s all over you: in a dopey smile, lidded eyes, and the faint whiff of your cunt he gets when he leans into you.

In an instant, he puts two and two together, and Steve feels his body warm at the realization that you’ve just finished touching yourself. And not just that: it had been so good that your entire mood’s flipped and you’re beaming at him, no walls or reservations.

He makes his apology all the same, though, and your smile widens as you reach for him and the snack in a tease: “Better not back out on that fight, Captain.”

He grins back, pleased you’re feeling better, but making a mental note to speak to Bucky as soon as you let him go.

I think we need to check out this ‘Satisfyer’.

They ask you about it on Valentine’s Day.

You’re running on the high of a beautiful evening: dinner in DUMBO and drinks in Brooklyn Heights. The latter -- a couple cocktails for you, white wine for your boys -- finds you buzzing as you let them into your room back at the compound. You feel eyes on your hips from behind, heavy gazes that sear the curves, and you sway pointedly, smiling at the sharp breaths that follow. 

You know where the night is going ---- know the way a good date makes them handsy. So the attention is no surprise. Neither is the cool press of metal to your back and the kiss to that spot under your ear. “Bed, pretty girl,” Bucky drawls against your skin, intent pressing -- and growing -- against your hip as he settles against you.

Steve rounds you from the other side, not touching but so close you can feel the rise of heat from his body. You look up just in time to catch him watching you back, blue eyes darkening with each step into your bedroom.

Your dress is easy work, pooling at your ankles with a few good pulls, But, Steve and Bucky take their time with everything else. You’re in something special, after all --- pretty lace and dewey colors that deserve an extra look, an extra touch. They’re on you the moment it’s revealed to them, thumbing the fabric with murmured praise through the lips all over your skin. 

The daze it sets follows you all the way to the mattress where you lay back against Steve’s chest (still clothed, to your chagrin) with his arms settled around you. His hands end up bracing your thighs, naturally at first, then deliberately as Bucky starts to kiss trails up and over your calf. With the latest string of missions, you can’t remember the last time you had their mouths on you and the anticipation as Bucky’s creeps closer is almost crippling. Your body tenses with each point of contact, eyes lidding as they watch him rise, inch by tortuous inch. 

“Sweetheart.” Steve’s voice pulls you out of your focus with a rumble you can feel in your back. “We wanna try something new with you tonight.” You turn just enough to watch him, answering with a hum to urge him on. “Can you tell Buck,” he continues, dipping to run his nose along yours. You feel tiny when he bears down on you like this, and he can see the way it affects you just in the flutter of your lashes. “--where you keep your ‘Satisfyer’?”

What?

In a split second, you’re sobered up, no hint of the lust or buzz that’d been following you for most of the night. Bringing toys to bed isn’t new by any means, but they have never, ever referred to one by name like that. Nor requested it specifically. It’s so startling that you don’t know what to say for a moment, mind utterly blank until you feel Bucky’s hand tighten around your thigh to bring you back.  “You -- my what?”

“Satisfyer,” Steve echoes, hand resting on your tummy. From below, you can feel Bucky’s eyes burning into the side of your face, expectant. “Buck’s heard you mention it before, and we’d like to know what all the fuss is about. ---- If you’re willing, that is.”

You look back and forth between them, mouth gaping for a second before you swallow your shock down whole. Two super soldiers can be a lot to manage on their own -- adding a toy that’s knocked you on your ass a few times over now seems like a very dangerous game. But, you can feel Steve hardening against your back and can’t deny the slick that’s seeping through your panties at the thought alone. So you nod, lip pulled between your teeth, and direct Bucky to the left side of your bottom drawer. 

When he’s back between your legs, it’s with the rose gold toy in hand. The mere sight of it makes you clench; something he doesn’t miss when he’s that close to your core. “Someone’s excited,” Bucky muses, brow arching before his gaze returns to his hand. The Satisfyer is unlike any toy he’s ever seen, shaped more like some alien gadget than a vibrator, and no amount of Google sleuthing could’ve prepared him for what it feels like in person. The smoothness of it in his hand, the unique curves along his palm. You bite back a giggle at how intently he inspects it, turning it over this way and that to get used to its weight.

“Hmm.. that’s definitely different,” Steve chimes in, as focused on the toy as Bucky is. It isn’t hard to work out how it’s used from the design alone, but what they’re still itching to know is what it does. How it unravels you so well, until your knees buckle even. And it doesn’t take long for that anticipation to trump their curiosity and you’re brought back to the moment when Steve ducks his head to your shoulder, pressing kisses to the skin there as he smooths hands down your inner thighs. He draws his palms back and forth a few times until they suddenly still, and he’s holding your legs -- and you -- wide open. “How about we give it a go, pal?” 

Bucky says nothing in return, but he probably doesn’t have to. The toy clicking to life is enough, a rhythm that fills the room with anticipation. Your tummy tightens at the sound -- another reaction neither man misses -- and the tension stays put, coiled tight until the Satisfyer closes over your clit.

The first pulse knocks air out of you that you hadn’t realized you were holding. The ones that follow unfurl you, melting your anticipation in favor of a soft, thrumming pleasure that coats you head to toe. It’s odd, having someone else use it on you, but in a good way. The best way. 

You surrender to it, relaxing into Steve’s hold as Bucky holds you open with two fingers.  So far, that’s no different than normal --- you’re always this pliant for them, putty beneath their fingers once they get to work. But, tonight, they’re greedy. Tonight, they want more from you; want whatever this toy has been able to draw out in their absence.

Bucky kicks things up a notch, turning the pulse up two speeds. The change is subtle to them, clicks coming just a smidgen faster and louder. For you, it seems to make all the difference. Immediately, you react, back arching up from its place against Steve’s chest with a sound that makes the Captain purr behind you.

“Mm...must feel good,” he notes, a hand gliding along your tummy until he can palm your breast. “Can you tell us, sweetheart?” He punctuates the question with fingers around your nipple, tweaking lightly.

Your lips part, but no words follow; not at first. It’s like your body and mind are disconnected, static in the places where they usually go together. The fuzziness is welcome, but hard to speak through, and it’s all you can do just to whine when Steve gives your nipple an urgent pinch. Bucky joins in with a cool finger pressing at your cunt, the light whirring from his arm giving you something concrete enough to focus on. ‘S good,” you finally pant, twisting to tuck your head into Steve, “so good.”

Bucky huffs out a chuckle and your entire body goes tight; with his face so close, you can feel every breath. “That mean you’re gonna let us finish you up, just like this?”

It’s a rhetorical question --- has to be, the way he presses the toy tighter to your clit. Still, you answer with an eager nod, legs widening some as if to give him the go ahead. “Please, Buck, ‘m close already, it -- right there, I-I’ll--” Your pleas are pretty, a desperate melody, and they appease every base instinct Bucky has. He’d wanted to keep you on edge a little longer to explore the toy more, but he’s a sucker for his girl; always has been. You win him over without even trying. 

Steve isn’t far behind, cock leaking in his dress pants seeing you so desperate. He hasn’t gotten his hand on the toy yet, but even he seems to feel its effect. The hand that isn’t cupping your breast spreads over your tummy, delighting in the way the flesh underneath tightens and spreads. You’re certainly close --- he knows your body as well as you do. And the thought of it makes him hungry, makes him press teeth into the skin behind your ear as he urges you on: “Go on, honey -- make a mess for us.”

Your peak comes fast after that, punching you in the gut with its intensity. The first wave of orgasm runs right through you, leaving a tremble in its wake, and your hips twist instinctively to escape the toy. Bucky, however, isn’t so forgiving, metal curling around your hip in a vice. Ride it out, he seems to say with a dark, lidded glance from between your legs. 

You whimper in response, head tipping back against Steve’s chest as you fumble for purchase in the warmth of Bucky’s free hand. 

Something tells you this will be a long night. 

Forty minutes later, you can’t see straight.

Your first orgasm had been gradual, as tentative as the men watching this new toy work you. But, after that, it’s like a flip switches in Bucky and Steve, making them greedy for as many more as they can get.

The second one isn’t long after the first. Bucky turns the Satisfyer up to the highest setting, the other end of the spectrum that you hadn’t even gotten a chance to try on your own yet. The first contact lights fire through your sensitive body and you’re on the brink in just minutes.  Toes stretching and curling into the sheets by Bucky’s hips, you’re practically squirming with need and it only takes one good twist of the toy for you to crumble all over again. They give you a break after that, but most of it is spent kissing you too long for you to catch your breath.

You don’t mind that too much, though.

The third orgasm is Steve’s fault. Ever the strategist, he starts thinking through the ways they can play with frequency and angle to make you cum again. You don’t notice it in your foggy comedown, but he’s fished his phone out and flicked through to a page he’s looked over more times that he cares to admit. And when Bucky settles between your legs to get you going again, he finally speaks up. “Buck, I found this review online---” Both you and Bucky turn to him, curiosity in the way you gape, but he’s making a face back that’s loud and clear:  ‘do not ask’. “---that said they were able to cum in a couple minutes with this alone. Had some interestin’ suggestions about how, too.” He grins around a Brooklyn drawl, that handsome face stirring something in you when it looks so devious. “You think we can get our girl finished faster than that?”

They pull it off -- embarrassingly easily at that -- and it’s in the pale of that third climax that they finally, finally press inside you. 

Your cunt is soaked, supple and warm around Steve as he sits you down over his cock. After so much play, the stretch is nothing, a pleasant burn in the pit of your belly that makes your eyes flutter closed. 

“Tell us how you feel,” Steve asks for the second time that night, his voice strained around the effort to keep from fucking you. Even if you’re taking him well -- easier than ever before, in fact -- he’s cautious not to lose his head, no matter how much he wants to. 

No matter how much the urge to plow you into your mattress dizzies him.

Your eyes are still closed when you respond, tongue over your dry lips as you part them with a needy sound. “S-Still good…,” you sigh, mind swimming. You want to move, start to move in a mindless search for some friction. But, the rocking doesn’t last long, stuttering to a stop when you hear the toy click to life  and try to focus through the haze of your pleasure with eyes darting for answers.

You find them in the smug grin on Bucky’s face as he palms the Satisfyer in one hand and works his cock out of his pants with the other. “What,” he purrs, voice lilted in a taunt, “you didn’t think we were done with this yet, did you?”

Oh yeah --- this’ll definitely be a long night.

[phoebe-delia]

West Wing Women. Ainsley Hayes and Joey Lucas are the BEST representation of women. They have their own voice and say what they mean. They have power and are yet compassionate. Ainsley's speech on why she is a Republican actually is what Republicans are MEANT to be. Brilliant writing and fantastic acting. Joey oozing confidence and accepting no crap. Just class.

This is really exciting for me because I think I've gotten...one other ask about the west wing before? So for that, I very much thank you because I am literally ALWAYS down to talk about my favorite tv show.

The women of the west wing are amazing. I totally agree about both Joey and Ainsley; I love them both so much. I LOVED Ainsley's dynamic with Sam and her introduction as a character is fucking iconic. I'm sad she left, but I would just LOVE to talk politics with her. She and I would disagree on some things, but her discussion of the ERA is what made me obsessed with the 14th amendment. (Also, Ainsley, Joe Quincy, and Arnold Vinnick are what republicans should be.)

And Joey, my love and my heart (also I just wanna mention Kenny, who is a gem). But Joey is just so smart and funny and insightful. She's always just like ahead of the game and knows what Josh needs before he's fully done asking for it. She's so smart and I love her and I wish she'd been on more often.

Okay I'm gonna talk about the other WW women for a sec.

No discussion of the WW women can take place without mentioning the inimitable CJ Cregg. She is smart, savvy and strategic and so caring. She's not perfect, and she's not meant to be, and I just really appreciate that she's not a Mary Sue. When she becomes CoS, she handles every challenge with grace and smarts, and hard work. As a woman in the workplace—and, frankly, in an Aaron Sorkin show—she deals with some sexism and harassment, and part of me is torn about it because while obviously, I hate that shit, it's also kinda realistic. I've experienced that kind of shit in a work environment, too, and watching her navigate it is really interesting, seeing which battles she picks and which she overcomes just by being better than the man who insulted her.

Now for Donna. She is so awesome, and watching her journey over time as she just BLOSSOMS and becomes confident and takes what she WANTS and gets away from Josh's office, she finally comes into her own. That scene at the end when she gets shown her new office makes me so emotional because she went from working at a tiny lil cubicle to having a gorgeous, large office of her own and working with the first lady. She's humbly brilliant and I adore her.

And Abbey Bartlet. She's also so smart and savvy, though I have a little gripe with her sometimes when she makes Jed's job harder. Ultimately, she wasn't elected, and while I'm fine with her having legislative priorities and pushing for policy, I think there are times she goes too far. But at the same time, I like that she's not perfect. I like that she pushes Jed to prioritize women more, and she's generally really supportive. And she's a great mother. And also, the staff can be kinda disrespectful of her. She's DR. Bartlet, and they call her Mrs. so often; she'd deserve that kind of respect even as an ordinary doctor, but Jed says she's a world-class surgeon. She's just as smart as Jed, and if she'd had political ambitions of her own I bet she'd have gotten really far if not been president herself.

I love all of the Bartlet daughters, but Ellie is my favorite. She's so smart and humble and relatable and her relationship with Jed is so interesting. I like Zoey, but I got frustrated with her for being with Jean-Paul, because fuck that guy. Also, I cringe so hard during that scene when Jean-Paul is debating the economy with Jed and she says "I love seeing my two men sparring." Like, *gags*

And Liz, oh poor Liz deserves so much better than Doug. Honestly, at first I thought people were too hard on him, but then when we found out he cheated I was like "oh FUCK that."

And Amy Gardner is so fun. She's also gorgeous and witty and smart and I love her dynamic with Josh. She knows what she wants and she goes for it, and I love when she fights for her goals.

Oh and you know who doesn't get nearly enough credit? Angela Blake. She gets such little time on the show and honestly, it sucks that she only comes on when Josh is slapped on the wrist before the shutdown. I wish she'd been brought back more or they'd found some other position for her so that she and Josh could do different but still important jobs.

Basically, the WW women are amazing and I love them.

[marvelousstevetony]

Okay but those ways to say I love you prompts are all so cute 🥺 what about on a post-it note for Steve and tony if you’re feeling inspired? Thank you! 💖

Ahh, they are! Thank you for this prompt, friend, it is so sweet. I hope you enjoy this small thing 💖

~ ~ ~

“Please don’t leave me in this hellhole.”

Steve bites the inside of his cheeks to stop the laughter from bubbling out of him as he lets his eyes wander over to the bed where Tony lies, face smushed into his pillow.

His arm hangs limply over the edge of the bed, the blanket pulled up so it covers most of his naked back, apart from his shoulders. His skin has that sleep-warm glow to it, and judging by the soft, relaxed expression on his face, Tony is only about fifty percent awake as he lets out a small whine.

Now Steve is unable to keep the smile from gliding over his lips. “You’ll do great, Tony. And you know I’d much rather get back into bed,” Steve responds as he zips his bag and places it by the door.

“There’s nobody stopping you…”

“There kinda is, though,” Steve says, walking towards the bed, then sits down after nudging Tony’s leg to make space on the edge of the bed. “Besides, I’ll be back tonight. You won’t even have time to miss me.”

He threads his fingers through the mess of dark curls, softly untangling the knots that always come as a result of Tony nuzzling his head against Steve’s shoulder, chest or back, depending on whose turn it is to be the small spoon. It looks a little like a bird’s nest, Steve notes, all disheveled and mussed, but definitely the most adorable bird’s nest Steve has ever seen.

“’s not true,” Tony mumbles into the pillow. “I always miss you when you’re not here.”

Steve knows the hoarseness to Tony’s voice is probably from sleeping, but he can’t help but feel like it’s from emotion, too, and just the thought of Tony missing him even when they don’t see each other for mere hours makes something in his chest catch. Because Steve feels it, too; the constant want and need to be with Tony, as if Tony’s presence is the oxygen Steve breathes to keep him alive.

Steve clears his throat to prevent an emotional voice crack. “I won’t be away for long, okay? I love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, smiling even though Tony can’t see it with his eyes closed.

Tony hums, leaning into the palm Steve rests on his cheek. It’s only for a quick second though, because then he sighs heavily and feigns a pout. “Apparently not enough, since you’re leaving me to go to a stupid meeting. In D.C.”

Steve chuckles softly as he brushes his thumb over Tony’s cheekbone. “I’ll make it up to,” Steve promises and leans down to press a gentle kiss the corner of Tony’s lips. “You’re going to smash that presentation like you always do, and those investors are going to be every bit as smitten by you as I am.”

“I know,” Tony says, smirking even in his sleep-hazy state. “Still don’t wanna do it, though.”

“You’re gonna be great.” Steve gives his cheek another quick kiss before he stands and heads for the door, grabbing his bag on his way. “I’ll see you tonight. Love you.”

“Mm, love you too,” Tony mumbles, already falling back into the warmth of the blankets and the comfortable unconsciousness.

***

Tony curses under his breath as he woken up by the ear-splitting sound of his alarm going off, and for a few seconds he wonders who he is going to have to sue for making such a vile, atrocious sound. It doesn’t take much longer for his sleep fogged brain to register that he isn’t woken up by the ticklish feeling of Steve’s breath behind his ear that he’s used to.

Steve usually comes to rouse him from his slumber with that low, fond voice whispering good morning in his ear, and a steaming mug of coffee. Today, he gets neither, and it feels like a bad start to what Tony can only imagine is going to be a bad day overall.

He stretches out on the bed, joints clicking, and gives a jaw-crackling yawn that’s followed by an equally dramatic sigh. He lets himself revel in the softness of the mattress and warmth of the blanket before draping one hand over his eyes and reaching for his phone with the other.

He frowns when his hand identifies a piece of paper on the screen of his phone, then rubs at his tired eyes with a fist to clear away the blurry vision. He has to narrow his eyes to make out the words on the post-it, and god he feels old doing so, but the feeling is quickly replaced by the affection that pools in his chest when he reads the note.

Good morning, my love. Hope you slept well.

- S ♡

Steve might not physically be in the Tower, but Tony knows that he left his heart right here.

His heart is apparently not the only thing Steve has left in New York, because throughout the routine of showering, brushing his teeth and getting dressed, Tony finds another few colorful notes with small, sweet messages and cute little drawings on them.

Wish I could join you, the one on the shower cabinet had said, and, well… Tony definitely agrees.

When Tony had showered, sadly all by himself, and finished up in the bathroom, he’d gone to choose what to wear for the meeting with the investors. What screams genius, billionaire, philanthropist and a damn good businessman? he had thought, staring into a closet full of suits.

That’s when he’d noticed another post-it, a red one that said: You look amazing in all of these. Those investors are so lucky. Love you. Steve had added a small smiley face with hearts as eyes. Tony rolled his eyes fondly before settling on a dark grey suit and the maroon-colored tie Steve had bought him.

Now, as he enters he kitchen, he feels a little better, a little less like this day is pure agony.

Because he is Tony Stark, a caffeine-addict, he heads straight for the coffeemaker, his most treasured item, and he can almost hear the birds chirping and angels singing the closer he gets. His focus quickly switches to the piece of paper that’s stuck to it though, and the fact that he reads the note before starting the machine is truly a testament to how much he loves Steve.

Please drink a glass of water and eat something too. Coffee is not a real breakfast!

Tony laughs out loud. He can imagine the look on Steve’s face and the sound of his voice so clearly in his mind as he reads it. Normally he’d argue this point, just because he can and because coffee deserves to be acknowledged as a necessity in his diet, but he doesn’t have it in himself to disregard Steve’s request, so he fills a glass with water and puts a bagel in the toaster while the coffee brews.

When it’s done, Tony goes to grab his favorite mug from the cupboard and is not surprised to find another post-it stuck on it.

From the day I realized I love you, it says and Steve has drawn a tiny ferris wheel on there, too.

Tony smiles reminiscently, thinking back to the day Steve had gotten him the mug. He had bought it in the gift shop in Coney Island when the team had gone there on a day off. Steve had told him how he and Bucky used to go there, he even told him about the time he had thrown up after Bucky made him ride the Cyclone. Neither of them had been able to stop blushing and smiling that day.

He snaps out of his absorption of memories when the toaster chimes, fills his mug and takes a seat a the breakfast bar, scrolling through his phone as he eats. He contemplates calling Steve but remembers that he and Sam are going to be in and out of meetings all day, so he settles on texting him a single red heart emoji.

For the next hour, as he gets ready for the investor meeting, Tony finds several other post-its. Some are messages saying stuff like I love you more than Nat loves knives, others are small drawings with cute texts like the one of them with grey hair and wrinkles that reads Growing old together. Tony may or may not have teared up at a few of them, and if he does, no one will know.

He imagines this is what it would’ve been like if he had ever been hunting for easter-eggs as a child. However, notes from Steve are a lot more rewarding than those cheap, poor quality chocolates.

With each one he finds, Tony’s chest tightens and his heart squeezes. Most people believe Tony is the one who’s always super over the top when is comes to romantic gestures, which, to be completely honest, is true. He does the grand, romantic gestures because he likes to spoil Steve whenever he gets the chance to. He likes watching Steve’s cheeks turn pink and that shy smile that crosses his face when Tony’s done something outrageously extravagant.

But… Steve has always been good at the small details. Things that seem insignificant but really aren’t, because they’re intimate and heartfelt and the most Steve things to do. Like leaving a million post-its around the penthouse to make up for being away.

As the collection of vibrant-colored paper notes grows, Tony finds a small box to gather the messages and drawings. The last one he finds is inside the elevator as he goes to meet Pepper before the meeting with the investors.

Good luck, baby. I love you.

***

Tony can’t recall when the last time a presentation went this well; everything went smoothly and the investors were immensely impressed.

He’s still tired as he stands in the elevator though, head tipped back against the wall, and he can’t wait to drop himself onto the couch and wait for Steve to come home.

He frowns when the elevator door opens and something seems… different, is the only way to describe it. The light are dimmed and instead, the room it lit up by candles. The Netflix logo is big and bright on the tv screen in front of the couch, which has been turned into a nest of blankets and pillows, and on the coffee table, there are two pizza boxes that give off a comforting smell that Tony can detect all the way across the room. In the middle of the whole affair is Steve, wearing his favorite pair of sweats and his old cable-knit, smiling widely at Tony.

Tears of happiness well up in Tony’s eyes as he walks towards the couch, shedding his shoes, jacket and shirt until he’s just in his undershirt, and drops himself directly onto Steve, burying his face in his neck. Steve holds him closer, chuckling a bit at Tony’s excited welcome home hug.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Tony echoes, the sound muffled into the fabric of Steve’s sweater.

“Did you have a good day? Good. I’m glad,” Steve says, smile growing impossibly wider when Tony hums and gives a small nod.

They lie there for a while, breathing in the scent of each other, feeling their muscles relax the longer their bodies are pressed this close, fitting together like a perfect puzzle. Tony’s head is the perfect size to fit into the crook of Steve’s neck, and Steve arms makes the best embrace around Tony’s smaller frame.

After a few minutes though, Tony catches a whiff of the Italian spices and lifts his head to look into Steve’s sparkling, blue eyes. “Pizza?” he asks hopefully, and Steve’s smile is answer enough.

Tony sits up to open the box and on it, there’s a post-it. It’s short and simple and it might be Tony’s favorite.

I love you, Tony Stark ♡

“You still think I don’t love you enough?”

Tony swallows hard around the lump that has suddenly appeared in his throat. “I never doubted that you do,” he says soberly. The words feel heavy as they leave his mouth, because it’s true; Steve has never given Tony any reason to question his love for him. Tony knows that Steve loves him.

He knows it by the way Steve runs his hand through his bird’s nest of a bedhead even though it’s greasy and it has gotten too long because he doesn’t want to go the the hair dresser. He knows it in the way he makes sure Tony doesn’t kill himself by only consuming coffee. He knows it by the way they can tell each other embarrassing stories about throwing up after riding a rollercoaster and buy ugly mugs from gift shops. He knows it in the way Steve writes hearts above the i’s and j’s, in the small curves of his handwriting and in the drawings and texts that tell Tony that he wants to grow old with him. He knows it by the way Steve looks at him with his blue eyes and long lashes and by the sincere smile that plays on his lips when he says his name.

They’re silent for a moment, but then Steve leans in, his lips ghosting over Tony’s as he whispers, “I love you, Tony.”

“I love you,” Tony says, closing the final gap between them, sealing their lips in a gentle, sweet, perfect kiss.

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Teddy Bear Anon has purposed yet another interesting addition to the Immune AU which gives me plot ideas! In particular, a scene that would really help give past Dream a strong push into his character arc. 

I like to image that immune!Dream’s character arc starts with the death of immune!Puffy. Sure, maybe he’s not sad yet, but he feels something for the woman who declared herself his pseudo mother. It’s what helps to crack the shell enough for the rest of the immune gang to start weedling their way into his heart. Immune!Dream after spending enough time watching the group he, starts to realize that yeah, connections to other people isn’t a weakness. It really is a strength. It’s something that takes time for him to come to terms with because Techno seems like a testament to the fact connections are a weakness. He was unbeatable until his horse got kidnapped. His only connection, his only weakness. But then there’s Tommy who seems to represent the complete opposite. 

Where Dream represents strength from caring too little, Tommy represents strength from caring far too much. Now I’m a sucker for bamf Tommy, and I like to personally imagine that maybe the Immunes hold out for a year or two before they cave and try to make the portal. So Tommy has what really boils down to a two year training arc on top of already being a child veteran (I like to canonize SMP Earth as well because personal preference and it gives me even more room to make Tommy suffer. SMP Earth being canon? God, so much fucking trauma considering how the others treated him, a 15 year old child, like an adult.) Anyway Dream slowly realizes connections with one another are what kept the remaining Immunes alive, and he tries to force his younger self to understand that. Tries, but doesn’t really get far. Up until what everyone else calls The Fight.

Tommy’s always just kind of screwed around in fights as long as there’s only a threat to him. We know he has a tendency to throw if MCC is any indicator. But then they time travel and maybe they spend some time in the past trying to get the situation sorted and the past’s Dream maybe just kinda does something to Tubbo. Doesn’t even have to be big, it just needs to clock as a threat to Immune!Tommy who’s already lost his Tubbo and refuses to let his younger self go through that. So Tommy goes completely ape shit on the younger Dream. Sure, it’s only been two years for this Tommy. He’s probably, like, 18 or 19 at most. Still a child as far as a lot of people are concerned. He shouldn’t be stronger than Dream or Technoblade, and in the few cross group sparing sessions they’ve had he isn’t. He’s stronger than his younger self but no where near these two demi gods of combat. But then Dream suddenly registers as a threat to Tubbo in Immune!Tommy’s eyes and he makes the mistake of mocking Tommy while he’s at it. He knows that immune!Tommy lost his Tubbo and maybe the past Dream is lashing out slightly or trying to get some kind of foothold in Tommy’s psyche. He isn’t doing anything near what immune!Dream has done, but it’s enough to piss Tommy off. So immune!Tommy challenges Dream to a fight and Dream immediately realizes the mistake he’s made when Tommy starts to destroy him. 

Say even Techno’s there for some reason or another and he realizes what’s going down so he tries to calm Tommy down, joining the fight just as Dream is loosing it. The situation quickly turns into the first time Techno’s ever gotten his ass thoroughly kicked by Tommy, leaving everyone spectating baffled (Tommy’s younger self partly included). They’re certain this kid is going on some rampage and none of them can stop him but the moment Dream and Techno are both taken care of (wounded, not killed, the older Tommy is always careful about that. He even throws a splash healing on them with some indifferent kind of disgust that hides the fact he does still care to some extent even hurting as he is.) Tommy immediately just switches focus to outright doting on Tubbo, ignoring any muttered Clingyinnits in favor of ensuring Tubbo is fine. Tubbo is completely find and just as confused, but the point stands and neither Tommy ends up leaving Tubbo’s side for the rest of the day. The younger Tommy, after all, is the only one the older Tommy’s told the full story to regarding the future (even when he couldn’t trust his own family he was always able to trust himself with the secrets that mattered, so he prepares his younger self in case the worst comes to pass.)

The older Dream, immune!Dream, he doesn’t get involved. He sit on the side lines and just kinda laughs, the sound drowned out by Sapnap’s loud encouragements and Sam’s half hearted attempts to get Tommy to stop (he could have stopped Tommy immediately if he’d stepped in. Sam is after all the only person on earth Tommy listens to without hesitation, but Sam lets it happen and pretends he tried.) 

Immune!Dream just kinda smirks at his younger self later that night and mentions something about attachments really making you weak. After all, it’s not like the only time Tommy takes a battle seriously is when someone he cares about is in danger. It’s not like Tommy would turn the world into a seared ball for Tubbo, and Tubbo would do the same in return. It’s not like they’ve watched the people they care about temporarily rebuke the Crimson just to give the Immunes those precious extra seconds needed to survive in a fight. Attachments, they’re just a weakness.

The younger Dream doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s the first time he thinks about his older self maybe being right.

Before I go I wanna leave you with two more ideas for the Immune AU

First up, Wilbur is eight years older than Tommy give or take. Wilbur had Fundy when he was around 16 and Tommy was around 8. Tommy was the best damn uncle he could be and for a while Tommy and Fundy were really stupidly close. They were both apart of the raised by Wilbur club and Wilbur was trying his damn best. Fundy aged/matured (physically and mentally) faster than a regular person for a while. They believed it was because he was a fox hybrid and Wilbur was ready to lose Fundy too soon. When Fundy was equivalent to 18 in human years though his aging process suddenly slowed to a crawl and his tail split into two, at which point the group realized he was actually a kitsune and it was just those first 8 years that passed by quickly (and Wilbur had a lot of questions for the now missing Sally who he’d thought was a salmon hybrid, genuinely, but became exceedingly less sure.) His family knows he’s a kitsune, but Fundy hid it from most of the rest of the server. A good thing considering later events. 

Fundy was part of the Immune group for a while and I like to imagine that he and Tommy had a falling out during the Pogtopia era but after the egg started to take over they started bonding again and acting like, well, family. Unfortunately when it came time for them to activate the portal, Fundy ended up getting separated from the group and getting caught. The eggpire didn’t actually know Fundy was fully immune or a kitsune so he just kinda pretended to get infected, using his illusions to make his fur look crimson. I personally like the idea that Fundy at some point managed to get back to the time machine and being a little code wizard manages to get the thing working and yeets himself in. He shows up a little late but after fixing his appearance manages to catch up with the rest of the group.

Fundy is underrated. Tommy being a good uncle is underrated. Sam would absolutely adopt the traumatized fox baby in Eret’s honor. What’s not to love?

The last concept I wanna bring up that I really like is hybrid Tommy. Tanuki would be good since it’s another reason for the Sam Nook bit. Maybe Sam specifically picked Sam Nook since Tom Nook was Tommy’s favorite character on the grounds he was the only representation Tommy had ever gotten and it made the kiddo happy. However, I also personally really like phoenix Tommy and it would make an interesting plot point. Tommy accidentally losing his third life at some point and realizing he’s an immortal creature of fire would have led to him taking a protector role for his new family. He can’t die, but he can burn anything around him, why not send him out to get supplies when the worst the eggpire could do would be capture him. Even then he just literally cannot hear the egg. Which could lead to both some interesting comedic moments and some really good angst if Sam agonizes over his desire to protect Tommy and let him be a child suddenly being at odds with the fact Tommy is literally the best person for the job so to speak. Not to mention Sapnap, who I headcanon as a Blaze hybrid, would be even more attached the moment he found a new fire proof friend to burn forests with him. Regardless of which hybrid type he is, I could see him hiding it from everyone except for Fundy when he was a child and only ever admitting it later to the other Immunes once they become a found family.

Personally I like the idea of Tommy being part tanuki hybrid and part phoenix hybrid, but is that too mary sue? Is it just a little bit too cheesy to have him be both? I will never not try to incorporate phoenix Tommy into my fics but also tanuki Tommy would be such a mood for this au.

Like image Tommy just builds a den that’s in reality a vault/panic room a la Techno and he hides it under Church Prime since that is The Safe Spot in Tommy’s mind.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

[angelhummel]

if you had to choose: glee reboot, glee revival or glee spin-off?

Umm I think I would pick like a revival that's kind of sort of a spin off. It's basically just the s4-5 New York stuff but full time. And like sorry this is morbid but y'know. Set in a dream world where none of the actors are no longer with us, or are with us but are pure trash. Dream world where everyone is here and good and can just play characters we like and nothing is awful

But also it's just the characters I love and we retcon the majority of stuff that happened in the finale lol. Klaine are there but they don't have their baby. That can come in later on down the line. Santana and Rachel are both there and both on Broadway and Jesse and Brittany are lost in the woods/sewers idc what happens to them. Tina and Mercedes are obviously there. Just being talented and funny and gorgeous and finally getting paid their dues. Sam is there, he didn't become a teacher in Ohio. And Artie is there bc idk Kevin was funny in s5 and really shined even if he isn't my fave character rip

And then other characters can pop in from time to time like Marley and Jake and Kitty and Unique and Puck. And I guess Mike and Quinn too idc. And the whole NY bunch like Elliott and Isabelle are semi regulars and maybe Cassandra, Adam, and Dani can pop in if she leaves her biphobia at the door. Oh also Brody redemption arc and he becomes a main character too <3 not that brody really needed a redemption arc but rm hates sex workers so he had to be the villain i guess ew i hated how dirty he was done i know i bring it up all the time but god damn

They mention Sue and Schue in the pilot ep and then literally never bring them up again. None of the McKinley adults are real, they can't hurt us anymore. Actually it would be so funny if they were all in jail. All for that

Umm so yeah that's about what I'd do. Just no reboot thing a la Gossip G*rl where it's totally new people and they're just like "omg remember when Old Main Character did this?" like I don't care lol. I wouldn't watch Glee if I didn't get to see Kurt or Blaine or Mercedes or Tina. I could watch literally any other show and get that same result. But if I'm watching Glee, that's who I wanna see, yyou know??

[mishastoesies]

what if deans following had a ton of people trying to figure out if his intros and stuff were a bit or character or something.. like there is a community devoted to trying to figure out whats going on and it starts drama consistently. bonus would be if there is occasionally discourse of "hey doesn't he look like the dude that killed people and was wanted by the fbi and doesnt he even have the same name?" and instead of that rattling people they are like "wait that dude was reported dead! so, this adds evidence to him playing a character!" and dean's unaware about it entirely

LITERALLY i was about to make this post when i got this ask. because like, you know dean has PICTURES of his happy family up on his blog because dammit it’s been a few years since theyve done anything super illegal. and they’re presumed dead. and people don’t really remember faces that well in general. so sue him, he’s gonna brag about having a husband and a son and a healthy relationship with his brother and his brother’s wife on his blog. also it’s very much a final “screw you” to john; oh you said i could never have a family? well here bitch! proof i have a family! nothing goes away on the internet. proof. 

and he has a dedicated following but they’re split into three main groups: the first is the smallest and it’s other hunters who just wanna keep tabs on the winchesters in case the next apocalypse starts. they’re happy for dean, if a little worried about him playing house with an ex-angel and a nephilim. the second is like, normal recipe blog fans/fellow bloggers. they’re all wordpress mutuals (is that a thing?) and they have a pact to read each other’s long-ass intros and comment supportive things. dean’s online friends are very concerned about him. 

the third group is true crime fans. cribbing a bit from@cowboydeanwinchester‘s unsolvednatural AU, some high schooler looking for a vegan brownie brittle recipe finds dean’s blog (he has a section of vegan recipes that he makes for sam), and at the bottom of the blog post they see a picture of the family - dean, baby jack (age 6), and cas. except they don’t know it’s cas, they see the guy from the Buzzfeed Unsolved episode - Jimmy Novak. 

this gets dean’s blog spread ALL across true crime fandom social media because what the fuck? is this like, elaborate photoshop? an in-character bit? an ARG? the accepted explanation is ARG because why else would someone... pretend to be married and have a kid with a presumed-dead missing person whose name is an unsolved cold case?

dean is oblivious to this and simply updates his blog with his next recipe: an easy weeknight casserole thats great for when your kids are picky eaters

[dekalko-mania]

I’ve thought about it, and I believe the reason BH’s 5 years later/10 years later updates don’t sit well with me is because I feel he completely disregards any other traits his characters have other than being heroes. Any and every design he’s done revolves around saving the day. Most ideas he brings up are about new powers or superhero plotlines he’s taken from marvel, which can be cool, but when you already have a very op character wouldn’t you wanna, I dunno, find a way to make him relatable, avoid him becoming a mary sue? 

The og story had that, Danny isn’t perfect, none of the characters are, but that makes them way more interesting. Heck, most of them have no clue what they’re doing half the time-Danny is the closest to having his ghost fighting shit together and even that is tenuous 

I believe this is why s3 fell short, and why we have the disappointment that was Phantom Planet. We got a new hero every week, established character development was tossed out the window, shit just wasn’t making any sense, even for a kids show. Not to mention, he threw away nearly every single aspect of the show that was uniquely DP (the double life with parents, made him a celebrity essentially and not the part time average person we could relate to, throwing in random bland villains when the fanbase already has established ones they enjoy-like c’mon we could’ve had Dan in the last ep and you throw in a rock?) I like to pretend this episode didn’t exist altogether tbh, and I know thousands of others do too.

He’s an idea man, which great, okay. But where’s the substance? It’s much better to pick something, really work on it, develop it over a series of eps. What’s there to really look forward to if there’s a new plot every episode with characters created for the sole purpose of making the protagonist look more powerful? We could have very emotionally charged, exciting, more mature episodes (by mature I mean tackling more complex topics-aka ATLA did this super well while still keeping it family friendly for Nick). An episode ending that leaves you going, “I can’t wait to see what happens”

He had some interesting ideas (ex. his ghost Funhouse was pretty baddie) but I think there’s just as much value in character growth and wonderful story arcs as there is in superhero tropes. Give your characters motivation, man! What else drives them, what other goals do they have in life? 

Why don’t we build on their relationships (Danny and Jazz’s sibling bond was perfection)! Give Tucker and Danny more screen time together, bromance that shit up! Tucker is often portrayed as the jealous friend, if that was the case, why would he be so loyal to Danny? There has to be much more than that. Build on his character more, and do the same with Sam, who’s constantly portrayed as not-like-other-girls. How does him being a ghost affect his parents who have wanted to shred them since before he was born? The dynamic has to have some getting used to. 

Point is, why focus on coming up with hundreds of new superhero ideas, which will inevitably leave the final product one dimensional and boring, when you can also work on filling in plot holes and building more on the material already there? Why copy what other hero movies have done when you have an endless amount to work with that’s uniquely yours? (The phandom has literally come up with hundreds of bad ass head canons based on the source material, like c’mon)

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟏𝟔)

pt. 15

note: missed u baddies~~~!!! this chapter was so hard to write but i love how it turned out, hope y’all loved it tooooo ♡ 

playlist *new additions!*

word count: 7.6k

warnings: age gap, smut 

Absentmindedly, you picked up your phone on the end table beside you. It was positively buzzing with notifications, and you were a bit thrown off by the sheer amount of them. You furrowed your eyebrows as you skimmed through the notifications from the bottom to the top— you had a bunch of missed calls from your parents, more Snapchat notifications on your regular snap than ever, and a plethora of texts. 

You wondered if something had happened, chewing slightly on your bottom lip. Was everything okay at home? Did you post something meant for your cam site on your Instagram? A hundred various circumstances fled through your mind, but none of the situations you had made up could’ve prepared you for when you opened a text from Aaliyah with a picture attached. It read:

    - Attachment: 1 image

    - BITCH, THIS IS LITERALLY YOU!!!

     You sat up immediately, your stomach twisting nauseatingly as you looked at the image on your phone screen. You blinked a few times, rubbing furiously at your eyes like this was all a bad dream and you’d wake up in a few seconds. Because this couldn’t be happening. There was no way that you were looking at a picture of you and Steve that neither of you had taken, walking out of a restaurant you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of right now. A sense of urgency flooding your veins, you nudged Steve harshly. He shifted in his sleep and put his arms around your waist, unaware of what was going on. 

     “Steve!” you hissed, your face burning. 

     He woke up relatively quickly, hearing the seriousness in your tone, sitting up against the pillow and facing you, his brows knitted together, muscles flexing as he supported himself on his arms. 

     “What’s wrong, babe?” he asked, leaning forward to see what you were showing him on your phone. 

You watched his expression change from one of confusion to one of concern as he began to grasp what had happened. But, instead of talking it out with you as you expected, he cursed under his breath and ripped the bed sheets off of him, getting up out of bed. You leaned forward, your naked bottom half getting exposed to the air while he pulled on some clothes and made his way out the door. 

     “Where’re you going?” you called out after him, and he didn’t even bother to take a look back at you as he marched out of the apartment, muttering,

     “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

You tried to catch up to him, but it was too late. He was gone, and now you were alone in this apartment which felt eerily empty without him now, your phone pinging with a new notification every few seconds. 

| | | 

     As expected, the headquarters were abuzz when Steve entered them. He had arrived in a haste, driving stoically on the busy New York streets, his mind racing just like the cars that zoomed past him. The first person to face him once he got inside was Bucky, who just gave Steve a sympathetic look and held the door open for him— Bucky already knew everything, he had figured it out a few weeks ago on his own. You and Steve had already dealt with that hiccup, and you had hoped (perhaps naively) that the situation with Bucky was just a fluke, and that nothing more like that would happen again. But you had been sorely mistaken. 

     Steve gave Bucky a nod, and they both made their way to the meeting room, where Steve already knew everyone would be waiting for him. Quite immaturely, he rolled his eyes at the fact that everyone was there. This matter was something personal, it had nothing to do with the rest of the Avengers, though technically it did, because Steve’s actions affected the rest of the team and  he knew that. But to his own credit, he had just woken up and he was already being bombarded with messages from PR and the rest of the team about this mishap. He had to compose himself before walking in, taking a deep breath and relaxing his clenched jaw. 

     “Are you insane?” was the first thing Steve heard when he walked in, no doubt coming from Tony.

Steve sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets, glaring at Tony,

     “Save the berating for later.”

     “Were you not thinking? Is this what you were doing during your time off?” Tony continued, his hands up in the air in a questioning motion.

     “Listen, Tony. I’m not here to hear what I did wrong. I’m here to solve this issue right now, whatever that means.”

     “You’re gonna wanna see this,” Sam said reluctantly, sliding a magazine across the table for Steve to see. 

     It was one of those ridiculous celebrity gossip magazines, and multiple pictures of Steve and you were highlighted on the front page. Steve prepared for the worst as he read the headlines: “Captain America with Mystery Girl?” and “Who is Captain America’s New Boo?” He opened the magazine to more unsavory headlines, and to his extreme dismay, pictures of you from your personal Instagram highlighted. 

     He raised his eyebrows as he read: “More on Captain America’s New Girl.” They had found your name, your age, and worst of all, your profession. Steve was seeing red as he forced himself to keep reading the salacious article which made you out to be a deviant with ulterior motives, abusing inaccurate phrases like, “an unemployed college girl turned porn star” and, “the face of Captain America’s midlife crisis!” 

Steve’s face burned white hot as he scanned the article, barely even registering the content and instead finding himself growing more and more angered by the inflammatory statements that were being made. 

     “That’s enough,” Nat finally spoke up, watching the expressions on Steve’s face grow more and more catastrophic.

She snatched the magazine away from Steve and shoved it across the table, folding her arms and glaring down the table at Tony. 

     “You okay?” Bucky asked, reaching a hand out to Steve’s shoulder. He could feel Tony’s angry glare focused on him, while everyone else gazed at him pitifully. 

Steve sighed, jerking his shoulder away from Bucky’s touch. He couldn’t even pinpoint his emotions, all he was feeling right now was rage. He was angry at himself, feeling like he somehow let this happen, even though deep down he could hear your voice telling him that he was doing everything right and that it wasn’t his fault. He was angry that now, your privacy and safety were on the line, and people who didn’t know a thing about you were making absurd assumptions about you. 

     He felt like yelling, punching something, doing anything to let out this anger so he could at least have some sort of vessel for this fury he was feeling. But he stood painstakingly still, trying to hear your voice over all the noise, your voice telling him everything was okay even though right now all signs were saying that everything was not okay. 

     “You have to deny everything,” Tony sighed after moments of awkward silence. “She’s your assistant and you were undercover acting as boyfriend and girlfriend, something convincing but not as exposing as that. And you’re getting your legal team to sue all these publications for false claims and defamation.”

Steve furrowed his brows, staring at Tony,

     “They aren’t false claims.”

Tony shrugged flippantly,

      “If you want everyone to think Captain America is sleeping with a porn star, then so be it. But it’s going to cost you if you think for a second I’m gonna let that slide on our team-”

Steve cut him off, losing the calming hum of your voice in his mind in a new wave of anger, 

     “She’s not a porn star, she’s a college graduate and the owner of an online brand and a sex worker, and that’s more than a lot of people her age can say, so don’t get brave because of these god damn articles, Stark.”

     “Listen, Cap,” Tony spat sarcastically. “I don’t give a shit who she is. The point is that in this case, your opinion on her doesn’t matter because everyone else is going to say whatever the fuck they want to say. And that’s bad for you, it’s bad for us, and it’s bad for her, if you care as much as you claim to.”

     “Don’t act like I didn’t think about this,” Steve lurched forward, slamming his hands on the table. “She’s more than just some girl to me. Don’t act like every waking second I didn’t worry that something like this would happen. Like, like I didn’t take every precaution I could, look over my shoulder every five seconds. I’m not as stupid as you want me to be, Stark.”

Of course Steve cared about his team and how this would affect the Avengers, but the last straw was the media coming for you, putting your privacy and your safety at stake. Your job and the details of your job were extremely sensitive, and you were just beginning to make a name for yourself in the real world. Steve honestly felt like this was worse for you than it was for him. He knew he had to take care of this first, for logistical reasons, but when he was done, he’d get right to you as soon as possible.

     Tony sighed, softening just a bit.

     “Listen. You know what you have to do. After the Accords, this… this isn’t the kind of attention that we need. Regardless of that, we can’t have this. You’re making a statement today, and you know what you have to say. PR’s already contacting the publishers of these bullshit articles. As for your little girlfriend, if we’re not careful, she could be in huge danger. You know the kind of people we deal with, and how fast they would swing at a chance to grab her when they think she’s unprotected. That’s exactly why you need to deny everything, and we’ll do all the damage control possible. Not that there’s even much we can fix at this point.”

      Steve glared all around the table, only to see faces of the rest of the members of the team looking up at him expectantly. He needed to explain himself. How’d he even get into this mess, what was he thinking, the usual. And Steve knew that that was his responsibility— as Captain America. As the leader. As a part of the team. Right now, he was just himself. Steve Rogers. And all that Steve Rogers was worried about was you. Regardless of what you said, the fact that you could be in danger scared the shit out of him, and also put him into this almost primitive, dominant mode. He needed to protect you. He didn’t care about reactions and rumors, he needed to make sure you were safe.

     “Talk later,” was all Steve said, turning out of the room and ignoring Tony calling his name. When he got into the car he slammed the door shut and began the drive home. 

      His mind was swarming with thoughts, about what this meant for his team, for his job, all the things he’d left unaddressed in the meeting room. He knew this wasn’t his fault, he knew that’s what you would say, but Steve wasn’t going to let himself off this easily. He was livid about the fact that the magazines and web articles had found you out so quickly and had posted pictures of you, giving away personal information about you and jeopardizing you as if you deserved it at all. So he drove home in a silent, fuming rage.

      By the time Steve came home, you, too were beside yourself with anger. You’d seen the posts your friends and family were sending you, and your social media was getting flooded with spam and comments from people who didn’t know the first thing about you. Some were downright cruel, others were oddly interested in this situation that was meant to be private all along. You hadn’t even called your parents yet or explained yourself to anyone, all you did was text them and tell them you’d get back to them later when you figured this all out. The only person you wanted to talk to at this point was Steve, and he wasn’t even there, nor was he answering his phone and you knew he had it on him. 

     The fact that he had seen the news and just left immediately, not giving you any sort of comfort or advice, not even beginning to work through this together, had you fuming. You knew that just like you, Steve had people to explain himself to and others to reach out to. But as far as you were concerned, you should’ve been the first person he talked to about this— he should’ve worked with you to at least talk about how to fix this before he just marched out the way he did. 

      You thought you had both worked past his eternal faithfulness to his job and the pressure to be dominant that he felt all the time, felt you had reached the core of the superhuman. But him leaving as promptly as he did only proved you wrong. You didn’t want to go through this alone, you wanted to go through this with him, as it was about the both of you in the first place.

     He came in and you looked up from your phone, where you were scrolling worriedly through the trending Twitter hashtag about you and Steve. Everyone was giving their unwarranted opinions, and you honestly worried how this would impact you— tons of information about you had been revealed without your consent, and it did not at all make you look good to the typical eye. 

     “Where did you go?” you asked him quietly, glaring up at him. 

He seemed to sense your anger and sighed, shrugging his shoulders in a resigned manner,

     “Headquarters. Had to sort some things out.”

     “Do you know how long I’ve been sitting here scrolling through pictures of me that are from my fucking cam site? Strangers exchanging information about me on the internet, seeing all this shit about us? And you just— just left? You didn’t even try to talk to me, Steve, honestly, what the fuck?” you snapped, your upper lip curling up angrily.

     Steve glided over to you, sitting beside you on the side of the bed and trying to get close to you. He truly felt sorrowful for leaving you alone, he wished you had known how much he wanted to talk to you while he was being berated by Tony. He only wished you had known how little he cared about the logistics because you were on his mind the whole time. 

     But he knew you were right, he had left without even trying to sort things out with you, left you to handle things on your own without even giving you an inch of support or telling you where he was going and what he planned for when he got back. 

     “You’re right, I’m sorry,” Steve apologized, his tone genuine, trying to catch your eye. He finally did, and even though you still glared angrily at him, he grinned at the fact that you were at least looking at him. “I should’ve been here for you, and dealt with all the other logistics later. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, honestly, angel. I didn’t… I didn’t know-”

He didn’t know that your image was being plastered around everywhere, that you were being unpacked by attention-seeking publications. Your safety and your privacy came before the reputation of his team, before all the logistics. That was all he had wanted to protect this entire time. You. Looking into Steve’s eyes, you could see that they were almost glassy, and you shifted from anger to concern quickly. 

     “Baby,” you cradled your arms around his head, frowning. “No, no, I’m… I’m being stupid, of course you have to handle shit with your job first, I should know that. I just wish we could’ve processed this emotionally first. Instead of separating from each other first thing.”

     “No,” Steve said firmly, pulling away from your touch and placing strong, grounding hands on your shoulders. “No, you are completely valid, and you’re right to be angry with me, doll. I should’ve taken a moment. That’s- that’s what we’ve been working on this entire time and you’ve been trying to teach me to step outside of my anxieties and all my duties. And I should’ve been here for you. I didn’t even take the time to comfort you. I’m sorry.”

      “Thank you,” you smiled softly, and he pulled you in for a hug, nuzzling his face in your neck. 

     This was the warmest you’d ever felt with him, just sitting there with him calmly in the midst of all the chaos, finding peace and stillness in each other’s arms. Anywhere else but in each other’s arms felt dangerous and uncertain, and now that you were here together, you were starting to look up. Everything was still shitty, but maybe together, things would feel less shitty. 

     “Listen, you’ll be okay. I’m sorry for all of this, I know what you’re going to say, but I know that I’m partially responsible. I just wanted to keep you safe, and, fuck.”

You chuckled quietly to yourself, your faces only inches apart when you brought your hands up to cup and graze Steve’s cheeks lovingly,

      “You still blame yourself for everything. You can’t control what these fucking publications do. You know that. And selfishly, the risk of getting caught is worth taking, if it means I get to be with you.”

Steve melted into your touch, but still there was that stiff part of him that wanted to blame himself for this mess,

     “We’re gonna have to agree to disagree on this one, doll,” he laughed wistfully. “But, you didn’t teach me for naught. Instead of pitying ourselves, we’re gonna work on this, right?”

You nodded with a smile, 

     “Yes, yes, exactly.”

Steve sighed before continuing, frowning as he remembered the hostile air in the office.

     “They told me to deny everything and get my legal team involved, but I…” Steve paused, feeling his anger and defiance resurge. 

     If they were going to expose you two, then so be it, it was true. If he didn’t tell the truth, if he denied all the “allegations,” he was just letting them win. He was letting them silence him, letting him think he was doing something wrong because he had found you, his happiness. And sure, your relationship was easy to publicize and critique because it was controversial for many obvious reasons— the age difference, the sensitive nature of your jobs. 

     But Steve didn’t care what they had to say. All he cared was that this didn’t push you apart. And if it meant telling the truth, he’d do that. The bombardment of rumors and questions would pass eventually. Nothing could soil the Avengers for long. If he handled this the way the public expected him to handle it— with some spineless apology or some weak minded statement, it wouldn’t be fair to you. Not when you and Steve were together. 

He continued,

     “I’m not going to. I’m not denying a thing. I’ll release a statement on my own… I’ll… I’ll tell the truth. I’ll get them to leave you alone and take down whatever they’ve posted about you. I don’t care what they have to say about us. Just… they can’t mess with you.”

     Steve’s fists balled up inadvertently in frustration and anger, but he was also feeling a surge of pride, courage. He didn’t have to deal with this the way everyone wanted him to. This was a personal matter, and even though it affected his job and his team, Steve had been through too much in the past few weeks to let the public play him the way they wanted to. There would be drama, and talk, but it would all subside as it always did. He’d always be Captain, and as long as he had a good heart and good intentions, and did his job right, he didn’t give a shit about what strangers had to say about who he was in love with. 

You blinked, shocked and puzzled by Steve’s words. This was like a full 180, you weren’t used to Steve rebelling like this. You figured maybe he was just worked up, and you didn’t want to be the reason he got in trouble. You knew he had his responsibilities, regardless of how you felt. You didn’t expect him to put you above everything, you knew he had to deal with matters like this in a specific way. You tried to calm him down,

     “Steve, you’re sweet. But you should go through with what your team wants. I mean, it’s what’s best, isn’t it?”

Steve cocked his head at you,

     “And keep doing this in secret? I mean, we can’t keep this up for long, doll, you know that. If I deny it now and the truth somehow comes out, that’d be even worse. I know my team is saying the opposite, but I think this is what’s best. The rumors, the gossip… it’ll come to a stop. What we have is stronger than that.”

You grinned, your eyes glossy,

     “I know, but I don’t wanna be the reason you get in trouble.”

Steve inched closer to you and cupped your face firmly with his hands, looking into your eyes,

     “You’re not. And you won’t be. Don’t blame yourself for a second. I’m taking care of this, alright? You’ve done so much for me and you don’t even know it. It would be a disservice to the both of us if I didn’t stand up for us. Don’t worry about me, don’t worry about my job. I was wrong to ever make you feel like that was your responsibility more than it was my own. We’ll be alright.”

     Steve was true to his word. As the day progressed and word spread even more, soon enough there was a statement to match the rumors. It wasn’t what the publicists or his fellow Avengers wanted to hear, but it was what he thought was right. And there was no reversing it. Later that day you sat on your laptop, scrolling through the recently updated articles on your situation. 

     Superhero Captain America, known to those in his personal life as Steve Rogers, admits that he has been in a private relationship for the past few months. Rogers and his team ask that their privacy be maintained and respected despite the shocking, unexpected news. At the time, Rogers and his fellow Avengers will not be taking any further inquiries about the matter, and they are taking this violation of privacy and security very seriously. 

     You breathed out a sigh of relief as you read the statement, mulling it over a few times in your head. All Steve wanted was to keep you safe and get as much information that had been revealed about you taken down. You weren’t quite sure what you were going to do from here on out— your sensitive profession had been exposed and this was something that would quite likely impact you for the rest of your life. 

     How could you be expected to be taken seriously to get a career when you had been trashed and defamed on the internet for your job? It seemed that still, no one quite understood sex work and that it was just as legitimate a profession as anything else, and you knew from the start that sex workers were looked down upon. You had done everything right— you used an alias, you didn’t give away personal information. And now, your face was plastered on gossip websites, with links to the very cam site you used. 

     Needless to say, you were stressed. But, you weren’t panicking. You were processing everything and it was all so overwhelming. In the grand scheme of things, you weren’t being nitpicky about the specifics. You had faith that you would figure this all out, that everything would be back to normal soon. Whatever that meant for your future, you weren’t sure. But you refused to lose hope. Not yet. You’d pick yourself back up from the ground and dust yourself off, just like you’d done so many times before. The difference was that Steve would be there for you every step of the way.

     Steve was out again handling important business. He’d talked to you before leaving and you understood that he’d have to be gone for a few hours trying to juggle this insane situation. In the meantime, you decided that since you had time, you’d call back everyone who had been bombarding you with messages and calls. Firstly, you’d call your parents. You dialed your dad’s number and he picked up almost immediately. 

You could hear him calling your mother’s name so she could talk to you too, and you heard her scramble up to the phone to talk. 

      “YN, what the hell is going on?” your mother asked, but she sounded more concerned than upset. 

     “We’ve been calling all day, we’ve been worried sick. Everyone’s been asking about you and we had no clue what was going on,” your father continued. 

You were surprised at their tone. Perhaps ever since your awkward dinner with them where you’d revealed what was likely your biggest secret, there had been a shift. You were surprised when they were so quick to accept you despite being so distant from you your whole life, being the root of your emotional issues. You sighed, rubbing your forehead,

     “Look, I know it’s a lot.”

     “Are you okay, sweetie? Be honest,” your mother pleaded, and you made a face,

     “I’m fine, it’s been a stressful day, but-”

      “No, I mean in general. We… we know we haven’t been talking much, but this… this whole thing, it’s-- we’re worried about you. You just go off to New York without saying a thing to anyone? You’re in some secret relationship with a man twice your age?” 

You understood their concern, but at the same time, you knew you weren’t being irrational by doing these things. Instead, you were doing what made you happy. This wasn’t a spontaneous, crazy decision. You and Steve were both extremely logical people, and you weren’t unstable just because you did this without anyone knowing. You had your reasons. 

     “Look, I… this is something I did on my own. I’m an adult and I’m doing what's best for me. And, obviously, there was a reason I didn’t tell anyone. I mean, he’s- he’s not just some random guy. And what we have is… you might not understand it, but that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me.”

     “I just wish you felt like you could talk to us.”

     “Yeah. Me too. Listen, I just wanted to call you to let you know that I’m fine. I don’t really know what’s next, but I’ll try to keep you updated, alright? Don’t worry about me, everything will be okay.”

      “What about all those posts about you? The things people are saying, it’s- and your safety! This is serious.”

     “Dad, I know. We are working it out, believe me. I’m just as worried as you are. I’m probably more worried. But you know what, I knew the risk in coming here, and I knew what I was doing. And I’m still glad I did it. Steve means so much to me, and I’m not gonna let this change that. But all that matters is that I’m okay. I just wanted to call you and tell you that.”

      “Well, we’re glad to hear that you’re okay. There’s just so much about you that we’re just now finding out, we have every reason to be worried.”

     “Yes, you do, and you’re right. If things were different… well. Anyways. I love you both, I’ll call you later,” you said, hanging up without waiting for them to reply.

At least that was off your plate. 

| | |

     The next morning, you woke up with Steve by your side, holding you in his arms. Needless to say, yesterday had been incredibly eventful, and by the time Steve got back home, there was nothing left to do except sleep the day off. It seemed as if your troubles were far in the past, considering how quickly everything had been handled. You had to hand it to Steve, he was the one who had to talk to so many people yesterday- legal teams, PR, his team members, just to clear the air. And of course, people were still talking about everything. But the initial shock and widespread reaction from yesterday was already beginning to calm down. It was still a bit dark in the bedroom, and Steve was still asleep, his arms wrapped around you.

     You stretched to reach your phone on the side table and started scrolling. There were still articles up and pictures of you up, but Steve was working to wipe those out to protect your privacy. You chewed on your bottom lip worriedly. Even after this was all over, you’d have to figure out what the hell you were going to do. Would you have to stop camming? Would you have to throw away all hopes of any other career as well? This was all on your mind.

     Suddenly, Steve’s hand was wrapped around your phone, pulling it out of your grasp. He sighed sleepily, his voice still groggy and deep, 

     “What’d I tell you about that?”

     “I know…” you pouted, turning to face him. His eyes were closed, but you knew he was listening. “Shouldn’t keep looking for updates.”

     “Mm,” Steve hummed. “You’ll be alright, YN. I’ll make sure of that.”

     “Promise?” you asked.

     “I promise.”

That was all the reassurance you needed for now.

     Eventually, you both woke up and got ready for the day. You weren’t doing much of anything, since you’d have to stay low for a few days. But it meant you got to be in each other’s company all day, so you weren’t exactly complaining. You were laying in between Steve’s legs on the couch, your head resting on his chest. 

     Today was supposed to be your last day, but due to recent events, there had been a change in plans. You would probably stay here until this all settled, then go back to Cali and deal with business back home. Luckily for you, your friends were supportive all the way. They were astonished and shocked of course, but incredibly happy for you. They’d be there for you just as much as Steve would. 

     “You okay, doll?” Steve asked, and you glanced up at him.

     “Good as I can be. Are you okay?” you asked.

     “Better than yesterday,” Steve chuckled, his blue eyes glimmering. “My team is still working on taking down any private information about you, by the end of this week, we should be all good-”

     “Steve,” you flopped over, straddling his legs now. Instinctively, he reached up to caress your arm and your thigh. 

     “Hmm?” he hummed, looking up at you. 

     “What happens after this? I mean, as far as I’m concerned, any hopes of getting a serious job are kind of fucked now.”

     “That’s not true,” Steve furrowed his brows, frowning. He didn’t want you to feel like this incident would mess up your whole future.

     “Steve, I majored in environmental policy. That’s like, government job type shit. I have to be someone who’s reputable. And I don’t know many people who are looking to hire a porn star sugar baby. I mean, that’s what everyone’s been calling me.”

     “But you’re not that. And once we clear up all this, I promise you, no one will think that about you. you’ Besides, Stark Industries is always looking for people like that, you could work for-”

You put your finger to his lips, shaking your head with a small smile,

     “Ah ah ah. You know I like to do things myself.”

You didn’t want to just beat around the bush and take the easy way out of all this. You liked knowing that you were accomplishing what you were accomplishing all on your own. If you worked for Steve or his team, it would just feel like giving up.

     “I know, and I love that about you. But why make things so hard on yourself?”

You shrugged,

     “I don’t see it like that. I see it like… like making my own way. You know? I’d probably be set for life if I worked for Tony Stark. But… I don’t know, it’s just a thing I have. I like to get it myself.”

Steve sighed slowly, shaking his head with a sly smile. His girl, such a go-getter. That aspect of you was honestly a turn-on for him. You didn’t want anyone to be able to say they did something major for you, and even though there were flaws within that ideology, he had to give you credit where credit was due. You were a hard worker. You liked to do things on your own and know that you were where you were because of your own discipline and hard work. Not because your boyfriend had recommended you.

     “You are something else,” Steve shook his head.

     “Mm hmm,” you grinned knowingly, stretching your hands along his chest. 

     “Listen, I can’t predict the future. But I will be there for you. And I know how much you like to hustle and do things on your own, but it’s good to accept help sometimes, doll. And I want to help you through this. Don’t think the worst of everything. You’ve always managed, even in the worst of times. This is no different. No job you apply for is going to try to judge you, I can guarantee you that. I’ll make sure of that, no matter how much you try to stop me.”

You scoffed, smirking,

      “You’re such a guy.”

      “I do it for you.”

Accepting help. Maybe Steve was right. Just because you accepted someone’s help didn’t mean you hadn’t done something on your own. And when it came to something like this, you needed all the help you could get, even if you didn’t want to admit that. It didn’t make you any less of an independent woman. 

| | |

      You woke up to thousands more follower requests the next day as you ate breakfast sitting at the kitchen counter. Steve was at the stove, finishing up his own plate, and you were chewing your eggs pensively as you scrolled through your Instagram. Ever since the day everything went down, you’d been getting a lot of attention. Most of it was honestly unwanted. Magazines you actually read were DMing you, asking to interview you, wanting the inside scoop on “the life of Captain America’s girlfriend.” You didn’t pay them any mind, because that was attention you didn’t want. You cringed to think of yourself being interviewed by a reporter about personal matters for fifteen minutes of fame. 

     But the attention wasn’t all bad, and now that you thought about it, maybe your future wouldn’t be so scary. Whether you liked it or not, you were almost like a celebrity now, and celebrities always had their scandals and their speculations, and they still got booked. Maybe this was meant to be, to steer your life in a different direction. 

     It didn’t seem ideal, and you didn’t even want fame. You certainly didn’t want to be known as “Steve Rogers’ girlfriend.” If you knew one thing, it was that you were going to make a name out of yourself before people tried to make one for you. Now that you were thinking about it, you could honestly seize this opportunity. 

     Even the sales for your clothing brand had hiked up since that day. People actually took an interest in what you had to offer, and you’d rather they take an interest in that than your personal life. You had no real interest in becoming some mystical figure or some it girl who was on Steve’s arm. You were just a regular, hardworking girl from California, and you wouldn’t lose sight of that. But if this was going to happen, you were going to take advantage of it. 

     “Steve,” you said his name, and he turned to face you, putting his plate together.

     “Yeah?”

     “Look at my Instagram,” you pointed your phone screen towards him and he squinted. “All these follower requests. And I keep getting orders, this is insane.”

Steve grinned, beaming. He was glad that something good was coming out of all this for you. He knew you didn’t want or like attention, but this went to show that all eyes on you wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He knew you knew how to flip it and turn it into something beneficial for you. You weren’t the kind of girl to bask in attention just because. You would make something out of this. 

     “I’m proud, YN, honestly. You know that’s all you, right?”

You chuckled, shaking your head,

      “Kinda crazy to wrap my head around. I don’t wanna be this sensationalized person or this public figure, but, fuck. This isn’t at all how I imagined my life going. I could make something out of this. It’s such a turn around, but maybe it was supposed to happen.”

     “I’m sorry about all this unwanted attention. But if I know you, you’ll make it work.”

It was interesting, this unwanted celebrity. You had to accept that people would start to know you. You could capitalize off this and highlight your brand, make people pay attention to that instead of your private life. You could even put your studies to work and create an environmental company. You wouldn’t just work for Stark Industries, you’d create an industry of your own. Of course, this was all in theory, and you had to gather yourself before you did those things. But the fact that this was possible just because of some unwanted attention reminded you that you could always flip a bad situation into something ten times better.

| | |

     “Fuck, Steve, I can’t,” you were panting heavily, sweat dripping down your forehead as you grasped onto his biceps. 

      Safe to say, since you were laying low and there wasn’t much to do, this was a very reliable option, every time. Now that the stress of the past few days was winding down, you were finally able to focus on what you had both been neglecting, which was each other’s bodies. Every time Steve was inside you, it was as good as the first time, if not better. You’d been going at it for hours now, partially because Steve didn’t have anything else to do and his endurance was ridiculous. You almost wanted to slap his pretty face for being able to go so long like this, drawing out your pain and your pleasure so effortlessly, only to kiss his cheek afterwards. 

     “Yes you can, doll, I know you can,” Steve said, not nearly as breathless as you were— it was safe to say sex with Steve was a workout. “Come for me just one more time.”

     “Mm,” you whined, lifting yourself up with the help of Steve’s hands clasped beneath your shaking thighs, feeling him shift inside you. You cursed, biting down on your lip and glancing down at where you two met with your brows wrung together. 

You were a mess. Both you and Steve had already came multiple times, but Steve wasn’t in a rush. He was honestly handcrafted by the devil. And since you were together, Steve had grown so much more confident. You switched in bed, sometimes you took the lead and sometimes Steve did, and sometimes it wasn’t about who was in the lead. But right now, Steve had you about to beg for mercy. 

     “Fuck, that looks so good, just watching me stretch you out like that,” Steve groaned, his eyes lowering to watch you slowly drop up and down on his cock, which was coated in your slick arousal. “You like this? Riding me for hours, coming over and over again on my cock?”

You shuddered with an almost humiliating moan, nodding your head because you weren’t able to speak. But Steve wasn’t letting you off that easy. He gripped your jaw with his hand, prying your mouth open.

      “Use your words,” he said, nodding slowly and mouthing ‘yes.’

      “Yes,” you stuttered out, feeling as Steve pulsed inside of you. You sounded ridiculous, pathetic, and you knew you looked absolutely filthy in the best way possible. You began to ramble. “Yes, yes, I love when you take me like this and— fuck— force me to come for you.”

     “Mmm,” Steve hummed like he was taking your words into consideration, mulling it over in his mind. “Yeah. You love this. You look so pretty like this.”

Pretty wasn’t the word you’d use to describe it. It was messy. You were practically drooling, and your body felt as exposed as it had ever been. Steve’s own cum from the previous times he came was pouring out of you each time you slid down onto him, and you were incredibly wet still. The sound your bodies made meeting was almost criminal. You were hot and sticky and sweaty and still somehow ridiculously gorgeous to Steve, and you looked even better when he was torturing you with pleasure. 

     You gasped raggedly when Steve had the audacity to bring his fingers down to your clit, those thick, unforgettable fingers that he used to stretch you out every time before you took his cock, rubbing harsh circles against your sensitive clit. Your whole body seemed to shudder, and Steve chuckled lowly, not even trying to hide the smirk that appeared on his face. Oh, you would so be getting him back for this. 

     “That feel good, doll?”

     “Fuck,” you whined, your hand flinging to his wrist to keep his fingers there doing the same motion. 

      Your body seemed to tighten and coil up, your eyes squeezing shut before you let go, and before you knew it, you were cumming on his cock. Or more like squirting, the way it seemed never ending and made your whole body convulse. Steve groaned as you soaked his torso and his legs, stilling yourself on his length and riding your orgasm out. He must have come inside you a few times while you were squirting. Wet tears, the good, hot kind, were forming down your cheeks as you come for what feels like the hundredth time in the span of a few slow, tantalizing hours. 

      “There you go, darling, I knew you could do it,” Steve finally pulled out of you, still hard against his stomach. He reached up and wiped the tears off your face. “Now do that again on my face.”

Fuck. You’d get him back another day.

| | |

      “Oh fuck, right there,” you sighed in ecstasy. 

     Steve’s hands were kneading into your back with expertise. He seemed to know just what he was doing, relieving all the tension from your spine and shoulders, and god knows you needed it. It had been about a week since the news came out, and everything seemed much less urgent now. 

     Reports about you two were dwindling, especially because you had stayed lowkey and didn’t flaunt your relationship about town. But it was almost freeing that you had the liberty to do so now, even if your relationship had been unfairly exposed. At least now, you could go out together without wondering if you’d get caught. 

     Steve chuckled and finished up, rolling off of you and facing you on the bed, his eyes glittering as he smiled at you. 

      “You know,” you started, reaching your hand out to stroke his cheek. “I’m kinda glad this all happened. Is that selfish?” 

      “No,” Steve grinned, shaking his head and reveling in the touch of your hand on his cheek. He grasped your wrist, gazing into your eyes. 

      These past few months had been such a whirlwind for the both of you. The both of you were doing things that surprised you, that made you endlessly happy. Steve had never felt more grateful for anything or anyone in his life. You helped him grow, and he did the same for you. He couldn’t see his future without you, and he didn’t even want to imagine it. He knew you were irreplaceable, he knew this was meant to be. Your odd circumstances and the unconventional way you met seemed to emphasize that truth. There was a reason why he had been so blue without you, and there was a reason why he had come back. Deep down, he knew all along that it was worth it, that you were worth it. Nothing else had ever been so clear to him, especially in that moment, gazing into your deep, warm eyes. 

His heart blossomed with that irrevocable feeling, and before he could stop himself, the words were bubbling out of his mouth, 

      “I love you.”

You didn’t have to think, didn’t have to second guess yourself before you replied. You knew it all along, it was just a matter of time before one of you actually said it. And now, after you’d been through so much together, after you’d taught each other so much, and healed from so much as a collective, there was no reluctance. You weren’t scared to admit that it was true.

      “I love you,” you said, with a soft grin and a dreamy look in your eyes.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there together, looking at each other and kissing and holding each other, but it was enough time to make you forget the world. 

ayeeee!!! as a bonus, i’m including this lil thing i made, it’s supposed to be what i imagine moonrose’s IG to look like! the pictures are not her faceclaims, they’re just black women that i imagine moonrose to look like LMAO but she’s free to look like whatever u want her to ♡ this is her aesthetic!!

ENJOY! new chapter soon hopefully!!!!

tags added later ♡ 

[spaceorphan18]

Since you believe Season 3 is the worst (although I didn’t mind it too much, some of my favorite episodes including my all time fave The First Time are from this season), what are some ways in which you’d rewrite this season?

Oh, I don’t believe, I know <3 <3 

Also, fwiw, The First Time and Dance With Somebody are two of my favorite episodes in the series.  <3  

But this is an absolutely fascinating question -- because I’d completely overhaul the entire season.  

(My overhaul of season 3 would kind of wreck havoc on the rest of the series, but let’s keep it to season 3.)  

So, first of all, three things I’d get rid of entirely.  

1. Sue’s Pregnancy.  No one wanted or needed this story.  Just have Figgins retire, Sue take over, and continue to have Coach Roz take over the Cheerios.  Boom, done. 

2. Get rid of Rory.  He added absolutely nothing to the story.   Sugar, Joe, and Unique were all fine, and can stay.  

3. Coach Beiste’s spousal abuse story.  I realize the world wouldn’t have been ready for it - but the transition story would have been more interesting here.  

----

So, the whole point of Season 3 was to focus on the seniors, so i’d keep them the focus, i’d just give them better stories.  

1. Finn and Rachel - I think them spinning in different directions is actually the right choice.  And while it did feel like TOO much in season 3, their story lines of them realizing that maybe they are just on different tracks wasn’t the worst story line.  I’d change minor things about it, and maybe let Rachel freakin’ fail at something.  

2. Rachel and Kurt - I think it’d have been better if they both didn’t get into NYADA, and tried to go to New York to make it without a firm plan.  (I have more thoughts on post-season 3 that I’ll place below.)  

3. Kurt and Blaine - hey, let’s NOT make Blaine a junior.  That said, let’s get some drama up in Klaine land.  Or spend some time developing Blaine a little more.  They’d both go to New York by the end, but I think a split isn’t the worst thing to happen to them.  (Again, be for y’all murder me, I’ll add more at the end.) 

4. Quinn and Puck - So, I’m saying a hard no on Shelby.  No stupid baby stealing story.  No dumb teacher/student ickiness.  And let’s not hit Quinn with a truck.  Puck’s story is possibly the best written in the season (yes, I’m crazy I know) and I’d leave it be - but Quinn could have something about settling into her life.  And then they’d graduate and move on with their lives, because honestly, both of these characters had moved on from this show (in the same way that both Ken and Terri no longer had a place either).  

5. Mercedes (and Sam) - I know it’s blasphemy at me getting rid of the Treble Tones, but I’d give Mercedes a story that supported her much more.  Not only would her and her dreams be more developed, but so would her relationship with Sam.  She deserved proper screen time, and got shit on a lot in this season.  Why not lift her up, too? 

6. Santana (and Brittany) - I think Santana’s coming out could have been a lot smoother.  I think her career aspirations also deserved more than the “I wanna be famous” story they gave her in one episode.  I think her story (and her relationship with Brittany) could have been expanded fuller -- as well as letting Brittany be an actual character 

7. Mike (and Tina) - i have no ideas as to what -- but give them both something to do! Let them have real relationship issues! Let Mike have a story that isn’t cliche! Idk, something! 

8. Artie - Have Artie make a documentary about the graduating class. It’d give him something to do, and it’d be a cool thread to tie the year together.  

9. Will and Emma - let them get married at the end of the season.  My thoughts moving forward make big changes for the show, so let’s tie up this lingering thread from the beginning of the season, and say goodnight to Will.  

They win nationals, of course, which would still be telegraphed, but it’s not as important since the stories are more about the kids and less about the competitions.  

----

So here’s my thing.  I think the show moving forward would have had an interesting split.  I think there’s a Glee The College Years and Glee The New Class thing going on.  And, honestly, they’re both new shows.  Of course, Glee the New Class would focus on McKinley, and bring in the Newbies in a more organic way.  I honestly wouldn’t keep any of the old crew there except Unique (though I know that probably wouldn’t keep people tuning in, so I understand why they didn’t.)  

Meanwhile, you have Glee The College Years.   And... I can’t believe I’m going to say this but... yes, break everyone up.  Because I think they all need new experiences and to explore themselves without their significant others.  Some of them would find their way back to each other (Klaine, Samcedes), others wouldn’t (Finchel, Tike), (I’m indifferent about Brittana -- even if I personally like Santana exploring her options more than that relationship.); and Artie would just be living his best life.  

So... yeah, that would be what I’d do.  :D 

[deans-baby-momma]

Truth or Dare-Part 5/20

Summary: The Winchester sibling trio has been through so much in the last decade. From the night of their parents’ 30th wedding anniversary party where Sam and Dean eased Y/N from her innocence to Sam becoming a happily married lawyer with a kickass nurse of wife to the three of them now living in the same town they grew up in under the same roof where each of them came of age.  Y/N is a working mother of three,  her days spent helping the townsfolk make proper and suitable financial decisions while bustling about escorting her two oldest to school and her youngest, Mary Ellen, to daycare; Dean’s garage is the premiere body shop for classic restorations and  car maintenance; people from other state’s bring their vehicles to them to be repaired. Business at Winchester Wheels  is booming; Sam is the legal council for Winchester Wheels and has been since he moved back home almost 5 years ago. He has his work cut out for him dealing with the people Dean pisses off and threatens to sue the garage on at least a monthly basis.

After one lust-filled night, the siblings become more than family.  They become lovers. The three of them, together and separately.

One big loving family.

So when Y/N’s boss calls for her to take a much needed vacation, the six of them hit the road. What will happen? Will it bring them closer together or break them apart?

W/C: 1243

Warnings:  fluff

After the shenanigans at the cafe and RJ’s insistent revelation, the six Winchesters loaded into the rental vehicle and got back on the road.

“Where to first?” Sam asks, looking at a map on his phone. 

“First stop, Dodge City!” Dean exclaims happily but frowns when he is met with groans. “What?”

“Dude, that is like your fantasy sabbatical,” Sam says, looking over his shoulder at Y/N to see her nodding in agreement. “You love everything to do with the Wild West. Me and Y/N, not so much. The kids are going to be so bored!”

Dean huffs and sighs. “Well just so you know, they have a zoo and a water park that I had planned to take everyone to. Do you want to just cross that off the list?”

Y/N could tell Dean had gotten his feelings hurt at their disregard for his agenda. She scooted forward in her seat and put her arms around his seat and onto his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m sure we’ll enjoy Dodge City.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Dean responds and bends his head to kiss her hand. “We’re going to get there just in time for the 5:00 mock showdown between Wild Bill and Davis Tutt. You know Wild Bill got lucky Tutt was such a bad shot. It took ol’ Bill a few seconds longer to steady his gun. Worked out though, because he shot his opponent right in the heart!”

Y/N could tell from the tone of his voice and the slight change of pitch that Dean was excited to be able to witness such a remarkable, albeit remade, event in history. She felt bad about their initial reaction.

“Oh my god! Did you see that?” Dean remarks as they walk away from the stage of the mock gun battle. “Bill was the fastest draw in the land.” Dean pretends to pull a gun from a holster on his side and makes a pistol with his finger and thumbs, “shooting” left and right; mimicking the sound of shots by blowing air out of his puckered lips. 

Y/N shakes her head as she carries a sleepy Mary Ellen on her lap as RJ holds his uncle’s hand and Izabella holds her father’s non-gun one. As they walk down the street of the city decorated to look like an Old West town, they each take in the sights from the displays of the attire of times gone by. 

She can not imagine having to wear such drab and concealing garb that the women wore back then. Added to the fact that they were usually also squeezed into a corset that was two sizes too small and Y/N wonders how they ever got anything done, much less felt like populating the world.

She looks at one of the pictures that is hanging on the wall. The Vandall Family were photographed in front of what Y/N assumed was their homestead. The husband and wife and their 13 kids were all lined up from tallest to shortest. The woman was also holding an infant in her arms so that made 14 times she had taken off all those layers and laid with her husband to get pregnant. Unfathomable to Y/N!

Back at the hotel they had gotten rooms at, she places Mary Ellen in the provided crib and closes the door to the adjoining room. Izabella and RJ are in the adults’ room with Sam and Dean watching cartoons so Y/N decides to take a shower while the baby naps.

As she is rinsing her hair, she hears the door open and feels a presence enter the room. She waits and just a few seconds later, Dean’s head pops around the curtain.

“What a lovely view,” he says as he eyes her up and down. “So sexy,” he continues with a smirk on his face. “And all mine.”

“Uh huh. What do you want?” Y/N asks, trying to act nonchalant, that the fact that Dean is ogling her naked form is not turning her on. But sure enough she feels the first of the tingles in her pussy as he licks his lips.

“Sammy said he would watch the kids so we can go out,” Dean tells her, his eyes still trailing up and down her body. “So Y/N, wanna go on a date with me?”

Y/N stops what she’s doing and looks at her brother. An actual date? One where they can be the couple they want to be; hold hands and kiss? A date where they don’t have to worry about who sees them together?! The thought of that alone gets her blood pumping and her heart beat rushing.

“Yea,” she answers delighted and anxious.

“Okay. Well, dress up little lady because I am taking you out on the town!” Dean imitates a cowboy as his smile stretches across his face. He winks and blows her a kiss before disappearing. She hears the bathroom door click shut and she waits until she is sure Dean is back in the other room before she squeals.

Their first date. The first time they can go out and be a couple. She hurriedly finishes washing before turning the water off and stepping out of the tub, wrapping the fluffy hotel towel around her. 

She’s going on a date, her first official date. Ever!

Knowing this is a special occasion, even if it is just for her, Y/N takes the extra time to style her hair the way she wants it and picks out the best blouse she had packed, pairing it with a pair of black trousers and her slip on booties. 

She even puts on makeup, using the barely-ever-used eyeshadow palette to create a smoky eye effect. She tops that off with a thin layer of mascara and some blush on her cheeks. Looking in the mirror, the reflection shown back to her is of a full-grown woman and not the half-grown kid she was so used to seeing when she looked at herself. 

Looking at her reflection, she now knows how she attracted both Dean and Sam because even she will admit with the way her clothes fit and her hair and makeup on point, she was beautiful and sexy. 

She briefly wonders what Dean’s reaction will be and doesn’t have to wait long to find out. The sound of the key in the door draws her attention and she looks over as Dean walks in. He is dressed up also. 

He is wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, with no holes or snags in them, a cinnamon colored henley under a multi-colored flannel, the colors distressed and faded. The jeans were tight around his thick thighs and groin, leaving little to the imagination. Y/N could melt into the floor right there.

“Hot damn,” Dean exclaims as he takes Y/N in. “I am one helluva lucky son of a bitch. You are gorgeous, baby girl.”

“Thanks, handsome. You look mighty fine yourself.”

“Ready to paint this town?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she answers with a smile.

Dean places his palm on the bottom of her back as they walk down the street heading to, what Y/N is sure, some cafe that serves lukewarm coffee, cold pie and has dirty ashtrays on each table. 

Imagine her surprise when  Dean directs her to the exact opposite of her assumption.

A/N: If your username is marked through, it’s because Tumblr wouldn’t allow me to tag you. Sorry. 

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @death-unbecomes-you @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @onethirstyunicorn @supraveng @deandreamernp

[soemthingsparkly]

I bet Nick’s little sister doesnt get why Nick likes conrad. And tells it to his face. You’re stinky and say bad words all the time. Why does my brother like you so much. And thats how conrad finds out but he just goes “Honestly kid dont know what he sees in me either.” and Nick is all embarrassed overhearing all this but next day to list reasons why he likes him. The fact he obviously still cares so much for his cousin how he refuses to put up with other people shitting on reg.

And how nick sees that even though conrad is in a lot of pain he never takes it out on anyone who doesnt piss him off first. And he sees how that’s why conrad is sorta a loner cause he’s aware he has issues and doesnt wanna accidentally blow up on someone who doesnt deserve that.

So apparently I’m just weak for Conrad and Nick, now?

 (which is, btw, not my fault, but the fault of many anons and Ren. Also Sam. I can’t remember who it was exactly that encouraged this behaviour, but I’m gonna go ahead and blame these two).

I realise now that you probably intended this to be pre-dating, but dating Conrick (Conick? Nickrad?) was just too tempting. 

I done did myself, anon.

--

10 Things I Like About You.

1.1k words.

Nick and Conrad.

Nick stands opposite Conrad in the hall. He looks up from his locker and eyes his boyfriend up and down. “Hey?” He notices the frown lining Nick’s brow. “Why do you look like that?”

Nick is holding a sheet of paper that looks like he tore it from a notepad. He clears his throat and swallows. “I, uh, heard you talking to Bat last night, about... me liking you. Specifically the why part.”

Conrad darts his eyes into his locker and back again. He wonders if he can fit inside. “Okay...”

Nick wets his lips. He wipes a palm on his thigh and then the other. “So I made a list.”

“Oh god,” Conrad groans. “Please don’t.”

“I’m going to read it to you.”

“Wow, or you could not. Let’s pursue that idea. I’m a fan of that idea.”

“Shut up, I want you to know.”

Conrad pinches the bridge and sighs. “Fine, torture me, but you can be the one to bury my corpse later.” He shuts his locker and slumps against it, arms folded across his chest. He rolls his hand. “Go on then, let the torment begin.”

Nick raises an eyebrow at the boy before dipping them to his page. He coughs into his fist and then grips the paper again. “Okay, uh Reasons I like Conrad.”

“I hate this already.”

“One, he’s honest. He never says what he doesn’t mean.”

“I literally told Luke he didn’t look like shit yesterday, this is defamation. I could sue.”

Nick blinks purposely at Conrad, a sign for him to shut the hell up. Conrad mimes locking his lips and throwing away the key.

“Which means I can always trust him to be honest with me. I don’t feel insecure because if there were something wrong, he’d tell me.”

Conrad rolls his eyes.

Nick continues. “Two, he protects the people he cares about.” When Conrad looks skeptical, Nick smirks. “Example: Reggie. He says he doesn’t care about him...” 

Nick pauses and glances up at Conrad, who presses a finger to his lip, suppressing a grin. 

“Yeah okay, I-I know that kind of contradicts the one before, but you get what I mean, so... stop that. Yeah. Alright, um,” he grimaces and returns to his list.

"He says he doesn’t care about him, but I’ve seen him start a fight with a guy who called Reggie ugly.”

“We literally share a face, it wasn’t for him.”

“Dude, I’m reading. And shut up, you’re similar but you’re not that similar.”

Conrad throws up his hands.

“And as much as he says he hates Luke, I know he’d have his back in a heartbeat.”

Conrad’s nose shrivels. 

Nick gives him a crooked smile. “Three,” he says and Conrad puts his hands to his head.

“Oh my god, I’m in hell. How many are there?”

Nick ignores him. “Number three, even though he’s been through so much, and I know he’s still hurting, he has a great sense of humour. And I know if I need cheering up, I always have somewhere to go.”

Conrad’s face is stoic now, the amusement from earlier thinned like mist by a winter sun. His eyes dart away from Nick, to his elbow, where he rubs the material of his jacket between his thumb and forefinger.

Nick knows he know has a captive, but somewhat slightly, audience, now, and he decides to take a run and jump. 

“Four, he likes cats. 

Five, cats are usually a great judge of character and they seem to like him, too. 

Six, I know that he plans his outfits, even if he looks like he just threw on the first thing he found on the floor. 

Seven, he still cares about his mom, after everything. 

Eight, he also cares about the environment and I think that says a lot about someone, because the environment is where we live. 

Nine, his ears are kind of pointy and it makes him look kind of pixie-ish and I think that’s really cute. And he's got a nice smile and his eyes are...” Nick’s cheeks flush and the colour spreads to his neck, while Conrad’s fingers absently brush along the tips of his ears.

Nick takes a breath to steady himself and looks up.

“And ten, he listens to me and I feel important when I’m with him. Like my ideas matter, which... I don’t always feel like... around a lot of people.”

As he folds the paper closed again, he watches Conrad’s face for any hint of reaction. He still refuses to look at him, but Nick thinks his iris’ look a little smudged. Then his mouth twitches and he slides his hands into his back pockets.

"Nick, I, uh–” 

His voice is kind of hoarse and Nick raises his eyebrows, leaning forward on his toes.

Conrad sighs. “I’ll be honest, I stopped listening half way through. Did you say something about elves?”

It takes Nick a full second to react and he shoves Conrad in the shoulder, a grin blowing across his face. Conrad laughs as he steps back and catches himself.

“I’m sorry, did you actually just say you like me because I’m damaged? That’s so fucked up, dude.”

Nick slides the paper into his back pocket. 

“Also, I want it to be on the record that I don’t plan my outfits,” Conrad says, holding his hands out. “I mean, if this is what planning looks like, I’m gonna have to get myself on queer eye. Do you think I plan to look like a homeless person?”

Nick bites his lip and shakes his head. “I’ve seen you do it. You’ve stayed at my house. I have French class.”

But as Nick moves to step past him, Conrad grabs his wrist and stops him. He doesn’t look at Nick, but says in a low voice,

“Of course I listen to you, idiot. You are important.”

Before he can respond, Conrad opens his locker again and hides inside, pretending to search for something. “By the way, I’m hanging with Reggie and the guys later, if you wanted to join. They’re doing dumb band stuff, but Julie will be there and I know you’re friends, so...”

Nick dips his eyes, smiling. “Yeah, okay. Maybe check with them, first, but I think that could be cool. Yeah.”

“Alright,” Conrad says, pulling out his Geography book, and standing. He gives him a curt nod, says, “See you later, then,” and stalks off in the opposite direction to the Geography classrooms. 

Nick watches him go and rubs his finger across the curve of his bottom lip. 

He heads to French class.

--

Bat is Nick’s sister. Short for Barbara. Or Tabitha. We don’t know. 

But it's cute as heck and makes me happy.

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

Take Me, I’m Yours ♡

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: You’re the baby of the group, a twenty something year old fire goddess and the untouchable sister of Thor Odinson, your sworn protector and overbearing brother. It's the fourth of July which means it’s Cap’s birthday, your long time teammate, but when an unexpected guest arrives, things don’t go according to plan. 

A/N: oof I haven’t written in forever it seems, I’m sorry I’ve been so busy I hope you guys enjoy this ik I did writing it, this is set after Endgame but Tony and Natasha survived because I WANT THEM TO and I have never really written a Steve Rogers fic or at least in a long time cause I’m watching Avengers on Disney plus rn and it’s a lot be gentle and plz leave feedback it warms my heart and make my day I also crave validation

Warnings: slight angst, loads of fluff, cheesiness, sexual tension, tropes, violence, men being touchy, assault, language, smut, rushed writing, get ready 

Steve is golden. You’re coal black, despite innocent appearances, you’re dark with jagged edges, but your blood is radioactive, glowing with power, just like your brother Thor. But that is what you two share, you and Cap, you’re both broken. 

You’re the baby of the team, young, pink pouted lips, big, doe eyes that get you what you want, round face, flushed cheeks, ample curves, and honey suckle voice, velvet like your y/s/c skin, woven with power and fire. 

You’re strong, smelling of a forest fire in the depths of winter, burning embers and cedar. 

He sees this, all of it, like you admire his broad shoulders, hard muscle, all strength and statue, he’s Apollo, a Greek god made of heat, brick, and mortar. He’s let his chestnut hair grow out slightly, hanging over his face, enough to run his fingers all the way through, a rugged, barbaric beard you want to tug on into submission. 

The goddess and the god-like man.

But he can’t have you.

---

You separate Thor’s hair into three strands, tugging them into a braid as you both watch the meeting planning Captain’s birthday party. Thor winces at your harsh pulling, trying to make it tight. 

“For Odin’s sake, sister, be gentle,” he curses under his breath.

“You want it to last, don’t you? Stop being such a baby and let me work, remember I hold all the power here,” you continue, rolling your eyes with a hint of a smile. “God of thunder can’t handle getting his hair done, how ironic.”

“At least I have a soul.”

“I will light you on fire.”

“You two, stop bickering or I’ll put you on clean up duty,” Stark reprimands.

You roll your eyes, “Kiss my ass, Stark.”

You make the mistake of making eye contact with Steve from across the conference room, lips slightly parted subconsciously when his eyes, a darkened, stormy blue with lightning striking his irises, are drawn there, perfect pink mouth, resembling a rose petal in full bloom. He folds his arms over his chest and looks away while you duck your head down, embarrassed. 

He’s hot and cold when it comes to you, longing glances when he thinks you’re not looking, silent, lustful touches on your waist when he passes you, an occasional wink when no one is around, flirting with you, a conversation or two at the crack of dawn when it’s just you two on the balcony, painted with gold and auburn from the sunrise. But other times he avoids you, going out of his way to be anywhere you’re not, cold words and stares that shiver you down to nothing but your bones, leaving you bare and he won’t even take the time to look at you, your undoing by him. He’s quiet around you at times like he’s hiding something.

Thor looks at you with a face of disgust and you pull his hair.  

“I propose an idea when it comes to my party,” Cap raises his hand, looking at Tony.

“By all means, birthday boy, let us hear it,” Barton chimes in, Natasha casting him a look meant to kill.

“We don’t have it.”

“Proposition denied,” Tony says. “This is happening, and frankly, we could use the good press after the world nearly ending.”

“And celebrating that with a party is your idea of good press?” Bucky leans his weight against the doorway, Sam letting out a small chuckle.

“Hey guys we, as a human race, were all almost completely wiped out by the jolly purple giant but let’s forget about that by celebrating Captain America’s birthday that none of you are invited to,” Sam mocks. You giggle despite yourself, looking at the floor while tying off Thor’s braid, Natasha elbowing your ribcage playfully for encouraging them. 

“Maybe I just want to throw a party,” Tony scoffs. “Sue me.”

“Believe me, if we could, we would,” Clint looks up at him with raised eyebrows.

“I’d be so fucking loaded,” Bucky whispers to Sam.

Sam lets out a deep sigh, “Tell me about it.”

“Y/n... what do you think?” Tony asks, letting out a deep sigh, pinching the space between his brow with his fingers. 

“What do you mean?” you look up, admiring the french braid you did on your brother, smiling to yourself before looking back up at Stark. 

“About the party? What we’ve been talking about for the last half hour?” 

“Oh I wasn’t listening...” you chuckle, looking at Steve from the corner of your eye, his lips turned up. “I um... well I think we should have a small party with all of us and friends, just enough to draw attention from the right people. We can fire up the grill and light a campfire, roast some s’mores... light fireworks, of course,” you trail off with a laugh.

Steve cracks a smile. “I like her idea.”

“That... sounds perfect, actually,” Natasha looks at you then to Tony. 

Tony sighs, but he wears a large smile, adorning his face, “Meeting adjourned.”

---

You paired a baggy striped winter sweater with a pair of black jeans, tight and fitted to your curvy figure, definitely not going unnoticed by Steve, eyes outlining the curves of hips, thighs, dips, and soft round shapes on your body, plump and attractive. He watches you move to the music Tony blasts on his speakers, night just settling in on the sky and painting it black, sun peaking upon the horizon to say hello. 

Natasha hands you a bottle of beer, condensation coating your hand, sweat there too, but the cold night is seeping in and you shiver, “Thanks,” you smile graciously. 

“Have you... you know-” she demonstrates a crude sexual gesture and you scoff. “With you know yet?”

“I want to tell him I like him first,” you explain, taking a gulp of your liquor and feeling the cool bubble tingle your tongue and throat. “Not just fuck him and be done with it... I want more than that.”

“How romantic.”

“I’m serious, Nat. I really like him and he...” you look at her with begging eyes and she sees that you’re sincere. “He wants nothing to do with me.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” you look at the ground, chuckling dryly, nursing your beer. Your hands heat up, something that happens when you grow nervous, your powers light up, literally, a fight or flight reflex for survival. Except now anxiety from a crush. 

You shake your head, taking a larger sip, “He’s so hot and cold.”

“That can be true, but the ways he looks at you...” she hums. “That can only be described as hot,” she snaps her teeth jokingly and lets out a giggle, officially buzzed. 

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh, getting in the party spirit once again. “He doesn’t-”

Your interrupted when an old friend appears in your view and he waves in your direction, Timothy, a S.H.I.E.L.D agent from your starting days here on Earth with your brothers. He trained you alongside Fury before S.H.I.E.L.D and HYDRA fell, and you turned to the Avengers when they offered you a position alongside Thor. He did, however, have a temper and you and many others were sure Timothy had a crush on you for a long time, your fears of losing your colleague becoming a reality when he asked you out and you had to reject him, because you’d already fallen for Steve. He didn’t take it well at the time and you haven’t spoken since. 

“Hey, Timothy,” you smile warmly, politely, moving to return his embrace, he squeezes you tightly, one hand holding a beer and the other wrapped around your waist. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, Tony invited all the old S.H.I.E.L.D members, not the HYDRA ones, of course, but I decided to pop in,” he flashes a grin. “And Fury’s over there cutting up a rug,” he points to where Fury is being taught by Peter Parker how to floss. 

You laugh and force a believable smile, “It’s good to see you.”

He looks you over not-so-subtly, something both you and Natasha catch, “It’s really good to see you, too. I’ve missed you.”

You smile, a little anxious all of a sudden, especially when you begin to smell the liquor on his own breath and how grabby his hands look to become, reaching out to touch your waist. You move his hand away, uneasy.

Natasha frowns and moves to take his hand off of you, “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink there, buddy. Why don’t you go sit down?”

“Maybe you need to sit down, I’m talking to y/n,” he rips his hand back. “Mind your own business, bitch.”

“Talk to me or touch y/n like that again and I’ll break your fucking hand,” she seethes through her teeth and sets down her drink.

Shit, shit, shit.

Steve sees the commotion over everyone else talking and chatting, paying no mind to the altercation between you, Natasha, and Timothy. He catches the look on your face, retreating into yourself as Nat rips him a new one, pointing a finger into his chest. He walks over, pushing his way through friends, all out here on Tony’s terrace, past the grill but people keep stopping to talk, anger brewing in his chest at seeing someone hurt you.

Timothy grabs you by the waist, “Hey, I know it’s been a long time, baby, but I wanna get back to what we had.”

“Let go of me,” you push at his chest. “And don’t call me baby. We didn’t have anything.”

“You rejected me all that time ago,” he says, voice growing louder. “Why?” Natasha rushes off to get Tony to kick him out, knowing she shouldn’t cause a scene even further by hurting him, she had to get Tony. 

“Because I don’t see you like that,” you push at him but he grabs both your wrists as you try to push him away. 

“You’re lying, tell me the real reason.”

“I’m. not. lying,” you say but you know what he wants to hear, your eyes burning with tears. You wish you could your power, light him up, but you can’t, your mind is too preoccupied with the answer to his question and you can’t concentrate. 

“Tell me the truth or I’ll tell him myself, say it,” he grows angrier, pulling you. “Say it!” and using your god like strength, you shove him to the ground at last and flames lick your hands. 

“Because I’m in love with Steve!” 

Just as the music goes quiet for Bucky’s toast to his friend, you catch everyone’s attention, head’s turned towards you and you want to crawl in a hole and get buried up again, to sink into the ground. Your face is hot with eyes on you and you can’t move. Tony and Natasha both look at you from the corner of your eye, unknowing of what to think. 

You’ve said it. Said the damn words out loud and you can’t take them back. You’re breath is heavy and weighs on your chest when you look up. 

Steve is in front of you, looking at you with wide eyes and a deep, questioning look and furrowed brow, chest heaving after he’s heard your confession, surprised. 

Fuck.

“You bitch,” he gets back up and moves to hit you but Steve grabs his hand, forcefully and painfully.

He moves over further and manages to pull Timothy off you completely, hand curled in his shirt with his feet off the ground when he pulls him inches away from his face, “Get the hell out of my party, stay away, and don’t touch her again. Are we clear?” his voice is a deep timbre, a low growl with a warning tone. 

He finally listens and grabs another drink on his way, shooting dirty looks to those who watch him leave and you’re left panting, out of breath with tears staining your cheeks, eyes glassy.

Fury trips him on the way out, “I knew you were trouble.”

You look up at Steve who’s in front of you now, “I-I... I’m sorry I ruined your party, Steve... I’m sorry,” you say when he moves to cup your face in his hands, soothing you with shushes and soft coos, wiping away your tears with his calloused thumbs. “I’m sorry-”

“Doll, you didn’t... he did, I’m sorry he was invited here if I had known...” he curses himself. “I’m so sorry.”

You meet his eyes. Oh, he’s so sweet, he’s so sweet it makes your heart ache.

But the question still remains, lingering over your heads: Now what?

---

You’re in the living room of the compound following the events of the disastrous birthday party, curled up on the couch by yourself as everyone’s gone to bed, snacking on remaining popcorn and watching Friends. Tony had sent everyone home after what happened, which people understood, apologizing to the few other friends that attended and offering goodie bags for coming, stuffed with hundreds of dollars of Stark merchandise for good measure. 

Thor had missed the party to visit Jane after they rekindled their romance since he’s back on Earth, but upon hearing the news of this guy touching his baby sister, he dealt with it in his own Thor way. 

Trashing the guy’s house. 

Then after, you and the team went inside, watched a movie, ate popcorn, and laughed at the crappy, Hallmark Christmas movie until your sides were sore.

But even now that everyone is asleep and in their respective rooms, you couldn’t sleep.

And so couldn’t Cap.

You look up at the sound of a door opening from the terrace, Steve walking inside after getting his nightly moment of fresh air and because he agreed to water Stark’s plants a long time ago, and because Tony is well, Tony, he assigned him that job for the entirety of his stay here, much to Steve’s dismay. 

But sometimes he didn’t mind it, going out there at night and seeing the stars because you’re so far up here, set aside from the rest of the world in this safe little pocket of a home and solace and the benefit of seeing you out there with a drink in hand, getting some time to yourself. You with a robe on, nightgown peaking beneath, hair in it’s natural, messy form, bare face or face mask on, and glowing smile. That made it worth it. 

Now it’s just the two of you after a night of you confessing your feelings for him, not directly to him per say, but he heard it nonetheless and he stood there, choking on his words because he had to get that leech of a man off of you, it wasn’t the time to discuss your feelings.

But unfortunately for the both of you at this moment, you can. 

“Hey,” you say, the word somehow weighing on your lungs when you breath it out, muting the television. 

“Hey,” he says back, smiling to put you at ease. “May I join you?”

“Of course,” you say, scooting over to give him room and patting the spot now open for him. 

He chuckles at your nervous energy and sits down beside you. He scratches the back of his neck, all that suave nature leaving him. Captain America is anxious.

“I feel... like we should talk about what happened and what you said earlier,” he looks at you, the same begging eyes you look at with Nat when you want her to see you were serious. You see it in his too. They’re wide and pouring out from all seams, want and need. 

“We should,” you nod, awaiting the rejection you’ve been preparing for all night. 

“I’m.. so sorry about that guy, I wanted to kill him for what he did to you and what he was trying to do,” he says, visibly getting angrier but you lay a hand on his, soothing him into a relaxed, calm state. 

“I’m fine,” you reassure him, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. “Guys like that come and go, but guys like you who help, stay forever.” 

He looks down at your intertwined fingers, softly comforting each other, smiles, and breathes a laugh, “I should have done more.”

You tilt your head, “You helped and he’s gone and that’s what matters, so thank you. Don’t take that blame.” 

He finally looks at you. “And when you said that thing... I didn’t know you felt that way about me,” he admits, turning so he sees you in the eyes as you turn to look away from him now, not willing to face him fully. “If I had, I would have...”

“Said no sooner?” you laugh but there’s no humor found in it.

“Can you let me finish?” he tilts his head and smiles, lopsided and pretty. 

You look at him as a signal to continue and he takes it, taking on a bit of your nervous energy in his stammering.

“I like you, y/n, I like you so much,” he says, open and out on display for you. You search his face for the lie, the catch in his words, how this’ll twist around to bite you in the ass and turn out to not be true, all some big elaborate lie or scheme. You don’t know what but what he’s saying can’t be true. 

Not you. Not him. 

“And for so long,” he laughs. “I’m such an idiot, I’ve just been so nervous,” he looks you in the eye, so raw and vulnerable. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

You’re a flustered, flattered, blushing, blabbering mess.

“But... you... you avoid in me in the halls,” you say, stunned. “Y-you don’t look me in the eye and you don’t talk to me at times, sometimes for days, only when I initiate it, yet you’re always looking at me and around when I’m there a-and...” you blink hard and rapidly, coming to the realization.

“Oh.”

He gulps, embarrassed himself now, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how or if I had a chance with you, you’re brother’s one of my best friends and I-” He looks to you for forgiveness as he tries to muster up what he wants to say. 

You swallow that lump in your throat and duck to kiss the corner of his mouth, that pink curl of lip you love so much when he’s smirking at something you said or just because, and pull away, looking down at your clasped hands, all of you on fire. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, voice low when you look at him through your thick lashes, demure. “I understand.”

His lips part and heavy sighs leave his mouth, cheeks red with lust and heat, eyes full blown to match. 

He ducks down just as you did, looking in your eye and you nod slowly for confirmation, before he catches your lips in a feverish, desperate kiss, moving with your mouth as you slide closer to him with your hand pressed against his hard chest. 

He takes hold of your thighs and pulls into his broad lap, erection potent against your inner thigh already as you straddle him, soft, flustered movements until you find the best position. His eyes hold both complete adoration and magnetism for you, a groan slipping past his perfect pink mouth when you move against his sweet spot of your doing. Your lips press together again and you move in tandem, tongue sliding past and licking his inner lip, like licking a flame, an ember of fire and ash and coal. You taste like summer rain and full promises of more to come, like hope after a long, hard day that things will get better, while also tentative and unsure. 

His large hand slides up under your t-shirt while the other keeps you steady wrapped around your waist, he moves to pinch both nipples, tweaking the erect, pink bud between his fingers and digs his fingers into your side. Sinful mewls escape you as he tilts your head up for access to the expanses of your neck and down, peppering wet, sloppy, rushed kisses to anywhere he can find, a begging, starving man and you’re his only hope of salvation.

“Steve...” you let out, hand dipping down between his legs and he groans, deep and guttural before catching your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging, your fingers threaded in his hair and pulling, and the moans that fall from him make that tight coil in your gut curl within itself, exciting you.

His cock twitches when he solicits a series of whimpers from you, lifting and pulling your shirt off and over your head to suck your nipples into his mouth, tongue flicking the sensitive peaks, and biting, switching between them. His fingers dance down your stomach and snaps the lining of your panties, sliding a single finger into your sex, the two equally heavenly sensations sending you to that fateful, blissful release you crave, and when a second, a third, joins you’re wrecked, moans falling out and you collapse into him as it subsides, lasting longer than any has before and he’s barely doing anything. 

So this is what it should feel like. 

“You were so good, baby,” he kisses your cheek, then your temple, then your neck, your lips, nose, forehead. “So good for me,” he tells you. “Do you want more, doll?” 

“Absolutely.”

[youralternantpersonality]

The Altar

Seth x reader: The Altar

WARNING: Sad af.

***

August of 1998—Pre-K

“HEY! Leave him alone!” Y/n pushes Leo, another kid in your grade, off the new kid at school.

“Y/n! What have I said about pushing other students?” Ms. Carmichael says, going up to Y/n.

“But he was hitting him! And no one was stopping it!” You yelled, stating facts to the wretched woman. She shakes her head and reaches to grab the new kid on the ground.

“Are you okay Seth?” The teacher helps the kid up. He nods his head and looks at you with a smile. “Well then, Seth, Y/n, Leo, follow me. The principal waits for you.” We follow the she-beast and you wait for your punishment. As you’re sitting outside waiting for Leo to get done with his lame of excuse, you sneak a conversation with the kid named Seth.

“Hey, Seth, right?” he looks at you with wide eyes and nods his head. “You okay? Fat butt in there is mean to everyone and tends to hurt the smaller kids.” He smiled at the name.

“I’m okay. Thank you…”

“Y/n, Y/n Y/L/n. at your service sir.” I said with a smile with a missing tooth. He smiles back.

“Woah, you already lost a tooth?”

“I lost three. See!” Y/n proceeds to show him your mouth and all your missing teeth.

“Woah…I’ve only lost two. And they’re a pain in the” looks around, “butt.” They both laugh at the word butt.

“Wanna be my best friend?” Y/n ask randomly.

“SURE!” he says with excitement.

“Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Clearwater! No talking!” Said the receptionist.

“Sorry.” They said in unison, looking at each other trying to not laugh.

October of 2007—7th grade; Halloween

“Oh, come on Seth! Tell me! Please…I’ll be your best friend!” Seth stops, looks at me with a grin and a side-eye.

“Y/n, we’re already best friends. What!?” he laughs, bumping shoulders with you.

“Okay, yes. But come on. Just tell me!”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“…”

“…”

“Vampire.” I look at him with a blank face. Then start laughing.

“Ugh, this is why I didn’t want to tell you.” He starts walking away.

“No, sorry. I wasn’t laughing at that. I was laughing at the fact that we were almost going as the same thing dum-dum.” He stops and smiles.

“Really?” he smiles.

“Yes. I was debating as a witch or a vampire. So, since you’re the vampire, I’ll be a witch.” You smile next to him. You were low-key laughing at it, but seeing as it is Seth, and anytime he looks anything but happy always hurts you, you could never laugh at him for certain things. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and you guys walk home to get ready.

“Bet I can beat you to my house.” He says pulling you down and taking off.

“NO FAIR!” you state chasing after him.

Summer of 2010—Before 10th-grade year.

Nothing. No call, no text, not even visitation. I had gone over to the Clearwater’s house yesterday, only to be turned away by Harry.

“Sorry Y/n, Seth still isn’t well.” Sue standing behind him with a sad look on her face.

“Can you at least tell him I stopped by, and to call me? I’m worried about him.” You say with tears in your eyes. Desperate to hear from your best friend and crush. You had developed hard feelings for the small raven head boy. He was everything to you always but was more before 8th-grade year. You didn’t know or understand what was happening, but you knew your feelings for Seth were nothing but genuine strong feelings.

The funny thing was you knew he felt it back. Those times where you two would get lost in each other’s eyes, the times where a kiss was almost shared but rudely interrupted by the arguments of Leah and Sue over trivial things. The slight touches and spark that flew between the two. Not even a blind person could miss the way you two responded to each other. Hell, your moms would secretly plan your wedding to one another. They even created a budget for the both of you for damn sakes!

But at that moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that boy you’ve always loved was okay. And if you could get one word from him, everything would be fine. You saw Leah coming to the front door about to head off somewhere. She stops and looks at you with a defeated look on her face.

“Y/n/n. I was just heading out. Let me walk you home.” You knew, since childhood, not to question the girl who was, basically, your older sister. She always protected you and, unknowing to her, you idolized her. Her strong will and strength you gained came from watching Leah. You looked down and nodded your head and followed her. At your porch step, she finally said something that broke you to pieces.

“You and Seth are done. I’m sorry Y/n, but…Seth…he’s not the Seth you know. I’m sorry.” She says, running off somewhere. Your eyes followed her until she became blurry with tears. You started to hyperventilate and didn’t want to be home. So, you dropped your bag and ran. You didn’t know where you just ran in the opposite direction and didn’t stop until you were on the edge of the forest. You recall Harry telling you to never step into the forest after a bunch of people from Forks have gone missing. And abiding by his rules, you don’t. You find a spot near the tree line and let it out. You stay there for a while and let all the tears fall as the warm summer rain hits your skin.

May of 2012—Senior year; Graduation day.

After that faithful day where you cried near the forest, you vowed to try to get Seth to talk to you. You were determined to have him to say something, anything, about what the hell was going on. But all you got was the cold shoulder, a growl, or his friends telling you to back off. He wouldn’t even look at you. You became bitter and he became a thing of the past. Your feelings for him came to a halt as you lost touch with the boy you’ve always loved.

It finalized in the middle of the first semester that year. You decided to wait sometime after Harry’s death to return everything. Even at the funeral, he avoided you. It was then, your feelings harden, and everyone could see it. So, it was no shock to Sue when you came by to return his things in exchange for yours. Since he wasn’t home, you took that chance to do so and left without saying a word, a note, or anything. Plus, you doubt he would’ve noticed.

But he did. When he returned home that evening, he instantly knew you were in his room. He could not only feel it, but he smelt your fragrance, he smelt you. He noticed the trinkets, sweaters, and brush all gone. Some clothes you kept in the drawers, gone. Everything was gone. He then saw the box you left on his bed. He lifts the top only to discover everything he’d ever given you. A ring with a wolf on it that you only took off when you washed the dishes, took a shower, or was asleep. His sweaters and shirts he’d leave behind if he slept over. Hair ties you both shared; you guys had to color coordinate occasionally, he had red and you had purple.

On the floor, he noticed a bag of his shoes and clothes that he doubt he could fit any more. He looked at the stuff you returned and just stood there with his eyes closed and let the tears he had been holding in go. He hated everything that he was and everything that had happened. He hated Sam and his gag rule. He hated how because of this, his father died; he never blamed Leah, he blamed his genes. But most of all, he hated how he lost the love of his life, the woman he always saw himself with, who he wanted to marry, to grow old with. He hated how he lost Y/n. He was afraid to look; if she wasn’t his imprint, it would kill him. So, Seth just watched her from afar. He still looked after her when she didn’t notice. But he couldn’t risk it, even when his gut and friends told him to.

He felt two sets of arms wrap around him. Leah and Sue held onto him as he cried all of what he had been holding in. Memories of them since they were kids, those little moments of the almost that they had with one another. The time in 8th grade where he was ready to tell her that he loved her but chickened out when Kyle Graden asked her to the Spring dance.

“She’s gone.” Had been his final words before he broke down and let the pain ooze from him.

December of 2022—Y/n Wedding

“You’re going Seth, and that’s final,” Sue told her youngest cub as he begrudgingly got ready to go to the one celebration he wishes he could run away from. Y/n wedding. When they got the invitation, Seth pulled a Jacob and hightailed out of La Push. It had taken a month or so for him to get back, and when he did, he wasn’t him. He knew he had no right to stop it, he knew he had no say in anything. But it killed him finally having this day to come. A day he knew would come eventually. Her wedding day.

“Come on man. We know it hurts, but you guys haven’t seen each other in, what, 10 years. She’s probably changed! You may realize that she was just a crush and nothing more.” Paul says, attempting to be helpful. Seth cracks a noticeably fake smile and just gets up to go to the ceremony that is being held at the nearby chapel.

Once there, they guys situate in the back and carry on a conversation while Seth looks around the place. He laughed to himself, if he remembered correctly, which he did, he knew this wasn’t Y/n idea of a wedding. It was Christmas themed, with sparkles and fake snow everywhere. You hated the idea of holiday-themed anything (especially Christmas). The overrated holiday, along with Valentine’s Day, bothered you. So seeing this Winter Wonder Land shit, made him realize, this wasn’t you. At all.

“Yeah, Y/n/n did not plan this wedding,” Leah said next to Seth. Only validating what was Seth’s inner monologue. You then herd the music start and the bridesmaid and groomsman walk next to one another towards the front of the church. The groom waiting up there for Y/n; Seth loathed him. A hand was placed on his shoulder by Sam, who made him realize that this isn’t the time nor place. Seth continues to watch the scenery as the flower girls throwing sparkles and peddles on the ground. Leah gagging at the girly-like shit they both knew you hated. Then, the music tempo changed, and the pastor motioned us to rise.

Y/n walked next to her dad down the aisle and from what Seth could see, you were a sight to stare at. Pictures were being taken and smiles were being drawn your way as you continue to the piece of shit you were to marry.

“Yeah, she really had no control. She always hated cake topper dresses.” Everyone nodded at that. You may not have known or met pack, but from what they could tell from the memories Seth and Leah had and when they watched you from afar, they knew you hated the bullshit of the wedding you were having.

The wedding continued, vowels where said, and a kiss was shared. But that’s not what broke Seth, no, out of everything, it's not what killed him. When you turned after being pronounced as Mrs. Forayed, somehow, by the universe screaming, Seth was hit with the realization of his mistake. Air left his body as he fell dead weight to the seat beneath him. The second your eyes locked, everything slowed down, time stopped, even your heart skipped a beat. There was no one in that room except you two and the shadow of regret clouding over him and the love breaking through your heart for the boy you love.

“Seth…Are you-” Jacob said.

“It was her…” Everyone looked at one another, then at you. Your eyes didn’t leave that spot and you felt something stir within you. The arm wrapped around your waist pulled you back to reality as you faked a smile at your husband. Feeling bad that it is not him you want but knowing that you can’t turn back.

Seth left in a hurry, leaving everyone without a second thought. While in the car on her way to the reception, a howl in the distance could be heard.

If only he looked at her once, it would have been them at the altar.

[angelhummel]

I’ve sent you two asks about Antis so I wanted to send you something positive (and hopefully more fun and that you hopefully haven’t done before)

How do you think the ND reacted to Kurt and Blaine getting together? Were they happy?

How did Sue act? Was she obsessed off the bat? Or did she gradually start the hurt locker? How did she get all the photos?

Who threatened Blaine in like the ‘don’t hurt Kurt if you know what’s good for you’ and why was it Puck?

Ahh okay first of all I wanna say that I saw the asks and I read them and I agree. But I cannot talk about that stuff anymore bc thinking about Blaine in any negative capacity like that is getting exhausting. And I've answered a lot of asks about it, and there are still a lot of asks about it in my inbox. Everybody who said anything about it is right, and I'm glad there are so many actual normal people who have some sense and don't get carried away with the crazy anti stuff. But like I said it is just A Lot and I need to give my brain a break lol. But thank you for being so vocal about it, and for sending me this!! So let's get to the ask <3 <3 <3

Okay SO obviously I think Mercedes is the first person that Kurt told. As in he probably texted her like right after they finished making out and went their separate ways. Maybe they called each other so he could properly gush and then Mercedes was super excited for him and also he got a sneak preview of her hit song Hell To The No and hyped her up before she sang it for the club

Then I think he'd tell Rachel next bc they got really close during s2. And between her and Mercedes they would probably be responsible for telling the rest of the club, since Kurt isn't even there. Then Sam and Quinn and Tina would all text Kurt some form of "congratulations" and how happy they were for him. And Puck is immediately invested in their relationship hence his total heart eyes during Candles

Sorry but I literally cannot answer the Sue part bc thinking about the h*rt locker makes me genuinely uncomfortable xx

Tbh?? I think literally every member of the club at one point or another pulled the whole "You better not hurt him" spiel lol. Especially after what happened with Jesse and Rachel. So Rachel is the first person to tell Blaine that it better not be some stunt and Blaine is all "I promise my feelings are genuine and I won't hurt Kurt". Then probably Finn the first time Blaine comes over and Blaine is like "you have my word". And then at some point over the next week literally every member of the club gives him some form of the same sentiment until he's just like "...ok"

But they all quickly realized he wasn't that type of person and that he would be good to Kurt and so they were all besties at the end of the school year and for the summer and then also in s3 bc who needs canon??? And they had lots more parties together and Blaine even invited them over to use his pool during the summer <3 And everyone lived happily ever after