#and then there's some other buddie fics that i abandoned along the way like a alternate 5b that i lost steam on once it started airing

[andavs]

First sorry for forgetting the you in the first sentence of my last ask.

Second WHAT!! You have fics in the making?? How did I not know this. You have always been one of my favorite Sterek authors. I reread for fics alot. Are you writing Buddie or Sterek?

Honestly with fic writers i have learned patience is truly a virtue. I love when I get a surprise email from A03 that a favorite author has released a new fic. No matter how long it takes for you to write I am so excited tonread any fic you put out.

❤️❤️ I do! I'm working on Buddie at the moment. One is longer and an AU where Buck's a prince and Eddie's a regent. That's the one I'm actively working on. It's like season 2 Buck meeting season 5 Eddie and they have to get married.

And then there's a dumber shorter one where Buck's a famous actor and after pictures get posted of him after a car accident, the public starts shipping him with the mystery paramedic who checked him out on the scene. Eddie is oblivious to all of this.

[calliopeslyrics]

i won't say (im in love)

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of Aphrodite!reader, wc: 5.1k

no warnings, just some kissing and miscommunication. this is my first fic ever :)

_

You didn’t believe in love at first sight. 

It was so cliche, always the same story whenever you asked a couple how they met. In fact, you thought that anyone who said they fell in love at the first sight of their significant other was lying through their teeth. You were pretty sure most of the couples at camp were forcing it, there was no way everyone had a crush on someone else from another cabin except you.

It was no secret that you were a hater, as some of your half siblings would say, always making a comment about every couple that passed your way. It seemed ironic - the daughter of Aphrodite detesting love. But it wasn’t like you had many choices to begin with. The dating pool within Camp Half Blood was lacking, to say the least.

There was Chris Rodriguiz, always hanging around his half-siblings in the Hermes cabin or strolling beside Clarisse. He was a decent fighter, strong willed and determined, and his smile never seemed coy like his half-siblings. But with the daughter of Ares always around, you doubted Clarisse would appreciate your sudden interest in her buddy, especially after the Ghost King incident.

Then there was Charles Beckendorf, a son of Hephestus who was sweeter than he seemed. He was nice to talk to, more of an attentive listener than talker, though you didn’t mind his silent company. Although you found Charles nice to look at, there was nothing else that interested you in him. He seemed more interested in his machinery and staying within the forgery, especially since you’ve caught him eyeing your half sister Silena a couple of times during dinner.

And finally, there’s Luke Castellan, head of the Hermes cabin and your number one hater. You’re not sure when he first started to hate you, though you could only count the number of decent interactions you shared on one hand. He used to be close with you, always guiding you through the countless camp activities and even teaching you his sword fighting tricks.

He was your first friend at Camp Half Blood, the first one to greet you with a welcoming smile and treat you like you’re normal. Luke didn’t mind that you were unclaimed and shared a cabin with his half siblings, always reminding you that his father Hermes protected the travelers and roads.

Luke never seemed to realize the effect he had on you. You weren’t sure what it was, if you were clinging onto the first person that showed you basic human decency or if you really were warming up to him.

You remembered how quickly things changed between you two, how you became friends to strangers within an instant. It always haunts your mind, the same situation happening over and over again in your dreams and nightmares as if the gods wanted to punish you with the failure of your only friendship.

Luke was fixing your armor during your sword lessons, his hands expertly tucking in the straps and buckles that you had awkwardly put on. It was the same routine - he’d fix your armor and playfully tug at your chest armor, asking if it felt comfortable. You’d tug at Luke’s armor in return with a teasing smile and nod, both of you 

You remember glancing up at him, noting how gently he was with you as he guided your hands along the hilt of your sword. His hands were rough and calloused, most likely from the years of training he had at camp. But when his fingers gently traced along yours, fixing your grip and adjusting your position, you could’ve sworn he was being softer on purpose.

You knew of his reputation at camp, word spread about the best swordsman at camp as soon as you arrived. And you’ve seen how Luke trained with the more advanced campers, directing orders sternly as if he were commanding an army of men rather than abandoned half-bloods. But with you, Luke was always kind and gentle, never raising his voice or handling you with roughness like his with the other demigods.

It felt nice, normal almost, to have someone to help you when you first arrived at camp. Still unclaimed and unsure, you were able to find solace and comfort in Luke’s presence. He was smart and kind, so willing to help the new campers find their way amongst Camp Half Blood’s many opportunities for glory.

Luke always spoke to you in a soft voice, kind and patient, as he instructed you. Raise your arms, grip the hilt tighter, and slash the dummy. When you followed his lead, Luke gave you a small smile of approval and helped you get back into position. The summer sun burned brighter and you could’ve sworn you felt yourself grow hotter as well.

And then it happened. 

A thick, red haze enveloped all around you, fogging your vision as the sound of a woman’s sweet laughter filled your head. The smell of roses surrounded you, so strong and intense, and yet you couldn’t do anything but wave away the thick haze that blocked your surroundings.

You felt different within the haze, your regular training armor felt silky and lighter and your hair no longer felt damp with sweat. It was as if you were changed into a different body completely, no longer awkward but confident and sure.

“What’s happening?” you asked, coughing as the haze began to fade. A crowd of campers had entered the sword fighting area at some point, watching you as if you were the designated entertainment for the night. Maybe you were, if the gods felt vicious enough to make you pay for your right to earn a heritage.

Luke’s eyes never left your face, his mouth parted slightly in shock as he just looked at you. A shocked gasp from the crowd of campers had you glancing over at them in confusion. And then you saw it - your reflection in one of the camper’s sunglasses.

A pink hue surrounded your body, following your every movement. Your hair was braided with gold strands woven between your strands of hair. Your armor was replaced with a white sleeveless gown that stopped at your ankles, showing off golden sandals that wrapped along your ankles and up your shins like delicate vines. Your makeup was done flawlessly, not a single smudge on your new winged eyeliner or glossy lips despite the training you had done just moments ago.

“You’ve been claimed,” Luke said, his voice still soft and filled with disbelief. You flushed under Luke’s intense stare and you glanced away, meeting the stares of the other campers around you. “By Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, the laughter loving goddess.”

Ever since that day, Luke had avoided you as if you had the plague. He avoided you during your shared archery and pegasus riding lessons, hardly sparing you a glance when you struggled with your gear over and over again. During dinner, he sits with his back turned towards you, never moving from his seat until you finally leave. Even during the nightly campfire visits feel awkward when the son of Hermes is looking everywhere but your direction while the children of Apollo are leading the singalong.

Even after your blessing had worn off and your makeup eventually smudged again and you stopped smelling like fresh roses, Luke still made the effort to avoid you entirely. You tried approaching him during sword fighting lessons and walking by the Hermes cabin when you were ready for the day to no avail. It was as if he were never there anymore, disappearing when you entered a room and reappearing right when you left.

It took every bit of courage you had within yourself to go to your half siblings one night, bitterly ranting about Luke’s sudden change in demeanor. In true fashion, all of your siblings gathered around your bunk bed, the love experts of Cabin 10  listening intently to your ramblings even as curfew was set into place and Silena was supposed to call for lights out a while ago. 

“He’s definitely avoiding you,” Silena commented with confidence after hearing your complaints. You let out an annoyed huff as you picked out a nail polish from one of the hanging racks along the walls, distracting yourself with the bottle as your half-siblings murmured in agreement. “Guys do that when they don’t know what to do with themselves,”

“But I didn’t do anything to him!” you huffed, shaking the nail polish a few times before opening the bottle. Silena stayed silent as you started on your left hand, carefully painting your nails a sparkling pink color. You stared at the sparkles now adorning your nails, shining brightly against the pink of your freshly painted nails, and thought of how your mother’s blessing ruined everything. 

A comfortable silence fell amongst your siblings, all of them watching you with intensity. It was as if they were waiting for you to say something else, to add more to your story. You glanced up from your nails and raised an eyebrow at your siblings, waiting for more input about your lack of action.

“Maybe it's not you, maybe he’s just intimidated because of the blessing.” one of your sisters offered, her voice full of hope as if she were also trying to convince herself. You hummed in agreement, blowing at the nail polish as you stayed lost in thought.

There had to be a better reason, it didn’t seem like Luke to just stop talking to you because of a pink glow that followed you for a couple of days. He was smart, attentive, he had to have seen one of your other siblings get claimed in a similar way. It didn’t make sense that he would only avoid you.

What if he hated the way you looked after you received your blessing, what if the perfectly done makeup was too much? Doubt began to cloud your mind as small insecure thoughts filled your mind again. For the first time in weeks, you felt small and insignificant again, as if you were still the same unclaimed demigod that just entered camp.

“At the end of the day, he’s just a guy,” one of your brothers, Mitchell, added with a roll of his eyes. Your shared siblings hummed in agreement and began to conspire amongst themselves, sharing theories and stories about Luke’s sudden change. He always kept more to himself, hardly opening up to anyone but Annabeth Chase of the Athena cabin it seemed.

You let out a sigh of defeat and laid on your bed, staring at the pink ceiling above you. There wasn’t much for you to do, not when you had so many questions and hardly any answers. You hated this feeling, this uneasy feeling in your stomach like you did something bad. 

“So what am I supposed to do? Just be ignored by my only friend at camp?” you asked, almost annoyed. Your nail polish had dried on your left hand and you began to paint your other hand. Even distracted with anxious thoughts, your hand never shook as you expertly coated your nails with the nail polish - one of the many talents you had as a child of Aphrodite.

“You can pray to Mother,” one of your siblings suggested, glancing up at you through a skin care mask. You made a face but didn’t say anything else, not when your Mother could hear within your own cabin. It was your only hope, your only way to figure out why Luke was avoiding you all of a sudden and how you could fix this.

That night you put your favorite pair of shoes on your mother’s altar, an expensive pair of heels you had gotten for your birthday a couple years ago. You weren’t sure how to feel about asking for help when you had gone out of your way to detest the very thing your mother represented, though you were half hopeful that she’d at least hear your pleas for help. You never prayed to Aphrodite before, never really knew how to speak to the goddess that called herself your mother.

Sleep didn’t come easy to you. You tossed and turned all night, huffing in annoyance when you just couldn’t get comfortable in your own bed. You tried sleeping at an angle and on your side and on your back, but nothing seemed to lead to you exhaustion. It wasn’t until you finally looked out the window, gazing out at the Hermes cabin with a wistful sigh, that you felt your eyes grow heavy and heavy until you finally gave in to the lulling comfort of slumber.

The sound of soft waves crashing upon the shore filled your ears, the familiar scent of roses prominent once again. When you opened your eyes, you knew you were dreaming. You weren’t in your cabin anymore, now standing in ankle deep waves that never seemed to truly reach the beach.

You knew where you were, yet you didn't. Something within you longed to stay at this beach, to stay home. But this wasn’t your home, no. It was your mother’s, you were sure. Somehow you were in Cyprus.

Before you could open your mouth and call out for your mother, sea foam began to crash faster and faster upon the waves. The foam gathered along the sand and rocks, growing larger and larger until the foam blanketed along your feet and legs. From the horizon, you could see the same pink aura that had surrounded you when you first got claimed - Aphrodite’s blessing. 

Rising from the sea foam, your mother appeared before you, radiating nothing but pure loveliness and beauty. You glanced up at her in awe, you could see why gods and mortals alike fawned after the goddess for centuries.

Her appearance was infinite, constantly changing when every blink you took. One second she had honey brown eyes, another she had sea green eyes, then she had sky blue. Her hair flowed perfectly with an invisible breeze behind her. Curly blonde hair turned to straight black hair turned to coily hair, but you recognized her all the same. 

Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, your mother.

Your mother glanced down at you at last, a gentle smile on her red painted lips. Gods, she was so intimidatingly perfect, you weren’t sure if you were supposed to bow or kneel in her presence. “Child, you have rejected your heritage for so long,” she said, her voice soft and lovely. But you could hear the slight annoyance in her tone, as if she were waiting for you to finally come to your senses.

You bowed your head and fiddled with your hands, playing with the golden rings that adorned your fingers. Your appearance had changed too, now dressed in the very outfit your mother had given you when she claimed you. “I know, I’m sorry….mom…” you said softly, almost embarrassed. You really didn’t want your first interaction with your mother to be a lecture.

Aphrodite said nothing, still staring down at you with her ever changing eyes. Centuries worth of knowledge swirled within her irises, knowledge of ancient lovers and broken hearts beckoning you closer. You wondered what appearance she took when she met your father, if she even took a mortal appearance. “Your heart is not happy,” she said at last, confident and all knowing.

“How do you know?” you asked, almost defensively. You were plenty happy. You enjoyed strawberry picking with the children of Demeter, you enjoyed teaching the younger campers how to make friendship bracelets before dinner, you enjoyed the karaoke competitions with the children of Apollo when it was one of their birthdays. 

You were plenty happy at camp, you told yourself, you just needed help. Platonic help with a friend. 

Your mother tilted her head at you slightly, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at you. She looked like one of those rich moms that stayed at home, silently judging your question like the answer was obvious.“Your heart is not happy,” she repeated in the same tone, as if it were enough to answer your question. 

“I didn’t come to ask about my love life, I just need some advice.” You said, your cheeks heating up at her statement. Maybe your mother was confused, maybe you should’ve prayed to one of her children instead. Romance and friendship were often confused, you told yourself, maybe she thought you wanted relationship advice. “My….friend, Luke, won’t talk to me anymore. Ever since I got claimed it’s like he wants nothing to do with me.”

Aphrodite stayed quiet for a moment, her body still changing and glowing as she stayed lost in thought. You didn’t know where to look, at her perfect face or perfect body, still adorned in a similar gown to yours. She radiated pure confidence, casually posed as the sea foam still gathered around your feet.

“Have you heard of Pygmalion and Galatea?” she asked, looking out into the distance of the sea. A distant look clouded her face, as if she were remembering how long ago she met the couple. You didn’t bother wondering how long ago those people lived.

You racked your brain for those familiar names, you knew them from somewhere. Lovers, they had to be lovers. But from where, you didn’t remember. Memories of ancient myths filled your mind. Eros and Psyche, Orpheus and Eurydice, Pyramus and Thisbe, but no recollection of a Pygmalion and Galatea. 

The image of a statue of a woman so perfectly made that she was almost human came to your mind. Beside the statue was a man, tenderly tracing along her arms, her waist, her neck, as if she were his lover. “He fell in love with his statue, right?” you asked suddenly, the myth coming to mind. You had remembered now, a man painfully in love with something that couldn’t love him back, a tragic tale.

“After detesting marriage for so long, yes.” Aphrodite answered fondly, as if she were amused by the story. Perhaps she was, you knew of her resentment for those who openly despised love itself. “But his heart was not happy alone, and he wanted the perfect woman to be beside him - his own creation.”

You stayed silent for a while, unsure of how to respond. What did this have to do with Luke? Was he the sculptor and you the statue? That didn’t seem motivating, though you doubted your mother knew what it felt to be on the other side of unrequited feelings. “You turned his statue into a real woman after he prayed to you, when he finally fell in love though.”

Aphrodite turned to you, a small smirk on her lips. She looked at you as if waiting for you to say something, to realize the point of this story. You blinked up at her, confusion still evident on your face. Maybe there was something wrong with you, maybe she accidentally claimed the wrong child. There was no way she was implying that this story reassembled your own problems.

“What does any of this have to do with me?” You asked finally. This was a mistake, you shouldn’t have listened to your half-siblings. Of course they would suggest you talk to your mother, they all were in relationships. They probably got a better blessing, getting a gift of successful love lifes while all you got were steady hands when you did your nails and makeup.

“A hardened heart does not open for opportunity,” she said, flashing eyes turning to yours. Her eyes were gray now, resembling some of the children of Athena with that knowing look in her eyes. Was she trying to tell you that Luke’s heart was rejecting you?

As if she could read your mind, Aphrodite shook her head. She gave you a pointed look, now dark brown eyes staring directly at you. Your heart skipped a beat at the intense gaze of your mother, it was exactly how Luke looked at you when your first got claimed. Gods, were you really getting flustered over a single glance?

“Not Luke’s heart,” she said, her voice fading as the waves stopped moving. The sea foam slowly melted into the waves, taking your mother with them. She gave you a sympathetic look, as if she didn’t want to leave so soon. But she was a busy goddess, you understood, love waits for no one. “Your brother has done his part, it is up to you to do yours.”

You woke up with a start, your shirt sticking to your back as you sat up from your bed. Below you, one of your siblings groaned in their sleep before their soft breathing resumed. Soft, classical music played from someone’s side of the cabin, though you didn’t mind this particular song.

Your brother has done his part, what was that supposed to mean? You sighed as you wiped your brow, sweat sliding along your forehead. Gods above, how long were you sweating in your sleep?

Carefully, you got off of your bunk bed, your feet softly padding along the cabin floor as you grabbed your slippers from the shoe rack. No one stirred from their slumber, and you silently celebrated as you double checked you were the only one awake in the cabin. The moon was still overhead, the moonlight pouring into the pink stained glass of your cabin and dancing along the countless crystal chandeliers. 

A walk wouldn’t hurt, you told yourself as you quietly tiptoed out of your cabin. You just needed to clear your head, dreams were often filled with messages that were difficult to understand.

You kept to the trails that were long walked upon before you first arrived to camp. The moonlight illuminated the camp, no need for any lanterns or fire as you made your way past the other cabins. Neatly made paths guided you from the common area to the sword fighting arena, an old habit. You hadn't realized you were standing at the entrance until soft footsteps followed behind you then stopped.

With a quick glance, you turned to face whoever was behind you, ready to make up an excuse for your late night stroll. You weren’t even properly dressed, still in your pajamas and fluffy slippers. Instead of facing Mr. D or even Chiron, you met a familiar face. Curly brown hair, now unruly and tussled, and soft brown eyes met yours. 

You didn’t believe in love at first sight. 

Until you met Luke Castellan. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low and raspy. You nodded, suddenly shy. Maybe if you didn’t speak, Luke wouldn’t recognize your voice and avoid you again. He ran a hand through his curls, letting out a soft yawn as he rubbed at his face and slowly woke up.

You stood still, unwilling to ruin this moment. You didn’t even know what to say to him, how nice of you to talk to me again sounded snarky and why haven’t you approached me sounded clingy. Gods, what did your mother tell you again? Something about you needing to do your part? You didn’t even know what brother she was talking about either, though you were sure Mitchell didn’t have any part of her plan.

“I just needed some air,” you said softly, daring a glance up at him. He was a couple feet away from you, the moon shining upon him as if Artimes herself gave him a spotlight. His beaded necklace was half tucked into his shirt, almost as if he were in a hurry to get changed, though you paid it no mind. You weren’t the best dressed at the moment either.

It was quiet again, neither of you saying a word. Somewhere in the distance, a hellhound howled. Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you glanced away from Luke. If he didn’t want to say anything else, you wouldn’t either. 

A hardened heart does not open for opportunity, your mother’s voice echoes in your mind, reminding you with a mockingly sweet voice. You scowled at the reminder and made a mental note to grab your shoes from her altar when you returned to your cabin.

“How have you been?” you asked, looking back at Luke. You let out a small breath, your heart pounding wildly as he looked back at you. Did he always look at you like that? As if you had given him the moon and stars and everything in between? “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Luke flushed at your question, rubbing a hand behind his neck. For once, Luke looked unsure. Gone was the confident camper that always had an answer for everything, ready to comfort the newbies and unclaimed demigods alike. “I’ve been alright. Nothing interesting has happened, you know.”

You nodded in understanding. The days leading up to Spring were often dull, with most activities halting to a stop until the Sun could shine again and give comfort to the campers of the earth gods and goddesses. Even some of the Apollo kids were complaining of the lack of warmth in the camp lately, though Mr. D chalked it up to them being dramatic as usual.

“I heard you were training that Jackson kid,” you said softly, raising an eyebrow at Luke. He smiled at the mention of the newest camper, a blond haired kid barely the age of 12 that had apparently killed the minotaur right before he arrived. “I heard he gave Clarisse a nasty drench in the bathroom.”

Luke huffed out a laugh, covering his hand as the sound echoed around the arena. You smiled at the sound, you forgot how nice the feeling was to make him laugh like this. “How did you know about that?” he asked when his laughter had subsided. 

You gave him a small shrug, though a playful smile tugged at your lips. It felt so easy to fall back into normalcy with Luke, as if there were never any problems between you at all. “Gossip spreads. People talk when they're getting facials, you know.” you said with a smile.

Another laugh came from Luke and you prided yourself in making him laugh twice in a row. You were sure you’d be caught by now, the noise echoing around the arena. The ears of the monsters on patrol were always precise, though you hadn’t heard the hellhound from earlier since you arrived at the arena.

“Can I ask you something?” Luke took a small step toward you. You nodded, taking in a small breath as he slowly stepped closer and closer to you. He stopped right in front of you, where you could faintly make out the scar along his cheek. It took all of your effort to not reach out and trace it, just to hold his cheek in your own hands. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

You nodded again, “I do, actually.” Tilting your head up to get a better view of Luke, you noted all the small details of his face. His dimples never left as he smiled at you, light freckles dusted his cheeks from grueling days in the sun. A soft pink blush spread along his face, and his eyes looked at you and only you. “Do you?”

“I do.”

A comfortable silence fell between you again, and you took in a shuddering breath. He was close, so close to your face, almost inches away from sharing the same breath as you. “Can I ask you a question?” you asked, glancing up at him through your lashes. “Do you feel like-”

“You’ve been shot by Eros’s arrow?” Luke gave you a small smile, leaning in ever so slightly until his lips met yours. He tasted like sweet ambrosia, addicting and inviting, and you leaned closer to get another taste before he could pull away. You wanted more, more, more until there was nothing left for Luke to give you, and he seemed willing to give you everything you wanted.

A small huff left your lips when Luke eventually pulled away, panting slightly and blushing profusely. “Took you long enough,” you said softly, your own cheeks burning. You couldn’t believe your own mother, much less your godly half sibling. You made a mental note to offer some of your favorite chocolates to them both as a thanks for helping you out.

Luke let out a chuckle, brushing some hair away from your face with a fond smile. He looked good like this, happy and relaxed without the weight of his burdens filling his mind. You wished you could make him happy like this forever.

“Sorry for avoiding you,” he said softly, his voice barely a whisper. His fingers gently traced along your cheeks, your jaw, your lips. He gently wiped his thumb along the corner of your mouth, and your heart fluttered at the slight touch. “I thought…you wouldn’t want to be seen with me after getting claimed.” “Why wouldn’t I want to be seen with you?” you asked, tilting your head in confusion. You grabbed his hand, gently interlacing your fingers with his and giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He returned the gesture, squeezing your hand back as he stared at your hands. 

“I didn’t think you wanted to have me when you looked so…” Luke blushed slightly, and you covered your mouth to hide your smile. Perhaps your siblings were right, perhaps he truly was intimidated by your mother’s blessing. “You just looked so beautiful, and I didn’t know if you wanted someone better, someone fit for a daughter of Aphrodite.”

“Luke,” you said softly, giggling slightly at his reluctance to meet your gaze. You gently cupped his cheek with your hand, your thumb tracing the scar along his face. Luke leaned into your touch slightly, and you gently kissed his scarred cheek once, twice, three times. “Shut up.”

Luke smiled at your response, moving his face to meet your lips instead. His hands found their place at your hips, pulling you closer to him. Beneath the milky twilight of the moon’s shine, you wrapped your arms around Luke's neck, tiptoeing to reach his height as your lips molded against his once more.

You didn’t care about getting caught, you didn’t care about the footsteps that seemed to lead towards the arena when Luke chased your lips like he needed salvation. You’d worry about your punishment tomorrow, whether it was an extra month of kitchen duty or losing desert privileges, you didn't care. Not when Luke was holding you so tenderly, kissing you like it was the only thing he was made for on this Earth.

You used to say you didn’t believe in love at first sight, but that was before you met Luke Castellan.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Gluttony - Leona

Author Notes: It was actually really difficult to choose what I was going to post this week. But I've been a little busy lately, so I finally just chose this one rather than working on polishing some of my other fics. I wrote this one to the song "Too Sweet" by Hozier and that most certainly showed in the writing. With that said though, I'm pretty pleased with how this fic turned out. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender neutral reader/ fluff/ some angst with comfort/ romance implied/ some pining/ sfw

Word count: 1528

Leona opened his eyes groggily, a frown on his face, as soon as the sun shone down through the leaves of the tree that hung over him, briefly blinding him before he sat up.

A hum from his left had his ears twitching before he twisted to see you lying right by his side. A slight smile on your face as the shadows of the leaves swayed across your form, and he felt his eyebrows raise.

He wasn’t particularly surprised to see you, though he knew the same couldn’t be said for anyone who might have seen you here.

Leona was no fool. He knew that you and him were pretty much perfect opposites. That’s why everyone always looked so confused when you were walking along beside him. Chattering away with a happy expression or teasing him about something that had recently gone in a way he hadn’t planned for it to.

Leona was the hated second prince. It was his burden, and it was one he’d carried his entire life. It was nothing new.

He was bitter, unpleasant, and something that people preferred to avoid either out of fear or powerful levels of distaste.

And then there was you. Sweet and far more optimistic than he thought he could ever be. And perhaps more interestingly, you were no fool. You knew everything wasn’t flowers and dreams. How could you not when you lived in a place like Ramshackle dorm and didn’t even have a way to get home? 

You were seemingly trapped in a world that wasn’t your own, but you didn’t let that stop you. Instead, you just keep going with your head held high, a smile on your face, and a laugh on your lips as you shrugged it off. It was admirable.

But it also simply wasn’t him. And that was something he knew perfectly well.

That simple fact was also the exact reason your classmates would find it so odd to see you slumbering here by his side and not somewhere else with someone who was a better match for your sweet disposition.

Leona leaned forward, propping his head on his chin as he looked down at where you slept by his side. You’d come here to study in the botanical garden while he’d slumbered next to you. It was something you often did, though he couldn’t fathom why.

It was almost like you either wanted the company or didn’t want him to be lonely. Either of which was ridiculous, since he could think of plenty of people who’d want to be your study buddy, and he certainly didn't want company for his naps.

But then, Leona also didn’t mind your presence, though he had his own reasons for not running you off.

Leona tilted his head slightly, sighing at the sight of you, before pulling the book whose corner was jabbing into your side out of your hands and setting it off to the side where you’d quickly find it after waking up.

He idly scanned the area, half rolling his eyes as he confirmed that your feline companion was nowhere to be seen.

Grim had no doubt long since abandoned you in favor of avoiding anything even close to work.

As for you, Leona didn’t know if you were foolish or bold to have fallen asleep right next to him with no one around to protect you. But here you were curled up at his side, as if he weren’t someone who could easily harm you and were instead someone who would take care of you should you need it.

Which wasn’t something he could really deny to himself, but you didn’t need to know that.

After all, you’d seen him when he’d overblotted and you knew he wasn’t a good person. That should have been enough to send you scrambling to get away from him. But instead, here you were. 

And it was ridiculous.

It was true that it might have taken Jack a little while to realize that Leona wasn’t someone he needed to look up to, but Leona’s actions at the Spelldrive competition had cleared up Jack’s misunderstandings about him. 

Ruggie had always known what sort of person Leona was. It was one of the reasons he hung around. After all, there was safety in sticking close to people like Leona, so long as you remembered what they were truly like.

Both realized, for better or worse, that Leona was not a misunderstood individual who was secretly good. He was jaded, always beaten by others, and essentially worthless.

But then there was you, who was seemingly unbothered by any of this. 

And it wasn’t even like you didn’t believe Leona’s flaws existed; he could work with that. Instead, it was almost like you didn’t care. Like you didn’t really expect him to change outside of your occasional prodding for him to take better care of himself.

You saw his flaws—that much he knew from the times you had bickered with him over something—but you just seemed to accept them. The same way you just seemed to accept other people’s flaws as something that was just a part of them. Only ever really scolding others, or even Leona himself, when their actions either harmed themselves or others.

And that's how Leona knew you were simply too sweet for him. Too sweet for him to endure being near, but simultaneously too sweet for him to turn away.

It was just another show of how worthless he was at anything he tried to do and how little his own efforts mattered. He could try to push you away, but he couldn’t ever stop himself from clinging to you. 

As if you were one of the last sweet bits of his otherwise bitter life. A potent method of making everything else seem to fall away and be ignored so long as he just gets a fleeting taste of that kindness.

And Leona had tried to ignore you, but it was somehow impossible, even when he knew that being close to him could easily taint that sweetness of yours and turn it into a bitterness more like his.

But Leona also knew that you and him were all but opposites, and that was probably where the attraction of being near you lay.

Though that realization did nothing to lessen that attraction, no matter how frustrating it might be.

You shifted, letting out some sort of groggy sound and causing him to snort in amusement at your lethargic movements that had you shifting closer to him as if you craved his warmth. Coming closer to him instead of distancing yourself like you should.

It was ridiculous, watching you now, to think that you’d somehow bested him in the past. But you had. You’d beaten him as well as numerous others at their own game. Making them look like fools, as you seemed to change things simply by existing.

And maybe you did. After all, you weren’t of this world. And perhaps that was why it was so hard for him to detach himself from you.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you twisted to look up at the lion beastman, who didn’t even bother hiding his amusement as you blinked up at him before groggily sitting up, “What time is it?”

Leona glanced around, his ears twitching slightly as he listened to the distant sounds of students chattering as they left their club areas before he looked back your way, “Time to be getting back to the dorms. Club practice has already let out.”

You nodded, not looking terribly surprised and seemingly resigned to having lost the rest of your study period.

“Have you seen Grim?” You frowned lightly as you glanced around, and Leona snorted, leaning back and relaxing once more against the ground, lazily watching you as you collected your books.

“Nope,” At the single word you glanced over at him with raised eyebrows that almost made him want to take back all the previous thoughts he’d had about you being sweet.

But then that tiny bit of bite you had to you only ever seemed to emphasize your sweetness. It was what kept you interesting and at odds with the fools at RSA.

Because, unlike them, you managed to have a certain degree of cunning even with your sweetness. After all, he hadn’t been lying that day when he’d told Azul that you were far more dastardly than the scheming cephalo-punk was.

That was probably another reason why Leona had given up on pushing you away and had even come to expect your presence. He was a glutton for punishment, and with you being a villain that was sweet enough to even catch him unawares, you were certainly enough to keep him on his toes. 

His gaze held yours even as he felt yet another chip in the wall of his defenses fall away, despite the fact that he’d always maintained these walls around himself.

He may not want to let you in, but you really were too sweet for him, and it was reaching the point that Leona was becoming more and more willing to let himself give into his gluttony.

[pedge-page]

I'm new to ur page idk if this is done but I...I want Joel to piss inside a plushie....

Puddles - a Plushies x PK drabble

Notes: I've been waiting to write this one so here we go! Can read more plushies!Joel through Plushies Series masterlist, though they can all be read as standalone fics

Warnings: Pisskink!Joel, piss kink, Drunk!Joel, solo masturbation with a stuffed animal, yes he is pissing inside poor plushie, plushie fucking briefly

18+ ONLY

- - - -

He may have gone a little bit overboard when Tommy invited him for the crew’s so-called ‘happy hour get together’. He knew they all liked to go out and celebrate with a few drinks after completing a project, and this last one they just wrapped up for some posh client with outrageous requests was no different. 

Joel usually liked to skip out on them. First, because he didn’t want to know what these clowns might be up to when they get tipsy, letting whatever sober-less things go on follow his mind to the next job site. But also because he’s getting too old for that college level shit. Hangovers aren’t nearly as fun when you’re pushing well past middle age. 

But, he didn’t want to be home alone since you were going to be working late.

So, two beers turned into twelve and a few more various alcohol spiked beverages here and there, and boom. Joel’s swaying side to side along the sidewalk with Tommy guiding him all the way up the front door.

“You sure you don’t need me, brother?” Tommy asks hesitantly. 

Joel, with lolling eyes and a grin, confidently waves him off after successfully entering his key into the door after 6 tries.

He stumbles through into the dark alone, and the first thing that hit him is how badly he wants to curl up on your plushie filled bed. He thought about you all night; your shampoo filling his nose when you cuddle him, the smooth streak of your naked back when you finish a shower, the wet indulgence of your pussy when he eats you out.

He’s never going to admit it, but the man is clingy as shit when you’re around. And he’s craving some much needed plushie pussy time.

Shit, the alcohol is really swimming in his brain. 

And, he realizes, with a firm and shiver-some squeeze to his crotch, elsewhere in his body. 

Ironically, the bathroom is not what beckons him.

With a devious smirk, he instead tumbles into the bedroom. Through the moonlit drapes, a wave of beady eyed babies stare back at him.

“Hello freaks,” he chuckles. They probably miss you too. Honestly it’s really rude, if you think about it, the way you abandon your buddies here AND Joel all in one night? Atrocious behavior. Someone ought to teach you better.

“Daddy’s home."

He falls forward, his knees catching the edge of the bed. An array of colorful volunteers practically jumping up and down at his presence to be engulfed by the precious aroma of Joel Miller.

That’s how drunk-Joel is seeing it. In reality, if they could run for their fluffy lives, they would. 

A quick hand snatches one yellow blob by its neck. His eyes struggle to get a clear picture—whether from the alcoholic haze or the darkness obscuring his vision. Possibly both. The dark bill and flappy arms come into focus.

“Duck,” he muses to himself. “Bet ya name is Duckie, some shit like that. She ain't good with the namein.” He rolls the unfortunate one over to its back, inspecting its caliber. Its definitely older: matted fur smushed down in certain areas, lack of vibrant coloring, some faded and torn edged fabric on its bow tie. Bitty holes sewn up here and there with mismatched (and poorly seemed) threaded needle. Your college waitressing job used to be for a place called the Quavern, so this little guy’s gotta be your graduation farewell from that team.

“Well mister Quakers. You n' me gonna get to know each other real well right now. Got something I need ya to hold f’me,” Joel slurs. One hand frees the button of his jeans while the other begins to prod at a loose tear in poor DuckDuck’s underside. He pokes and prods and scissors a little too harshly with his sausage fingers before a tell-tale rip echoes in the room. “Oops,” he chuckles with very little guilt as he forces the hole a bit wider and palms his crotch a bit harder. 

Yeah, he gets hard when touching your stuffed animals. He can’t help it! With all the naughty activities you do with them, they’re practically hug buddies by day, sex toy by night. His mind feels foggy, but the building sensation along his lower stomach is the only thing churning his actions. With a few lazy pumps, Joel slots his mushroom tip at the cottony hole he’s made in the poor plush. He pushes through, groaning with his head tossed slightly back as dry softness envelops his pulsing length. 

“Shit—that’s it. Take it little guy.” He bites his lips and peers below, watching his dick penetrate the stuffed animal.

He knows he should put it down, sew it up, put it back, and go do his business in the bathroom like a good, well trained boyfriend. But then again, he knows how fucking pissed you’ll be if he defiles your plushies again. Then you’ll never leave him unattended at home, and that means more pussy drinking and rubbing on these fuckers for him.

Joel doesn’t even realize he’s pissing inside the poor animal until it starts to sag heavily with the weight and wetness coating his hand. “Ooohhhhhhhhhh,” he gasps with furrowed brows. As his bladder empties, the duck grows damper and darker, the fur and cotton soaking it up from the inside out until it’s dripping down his ballsack.  He thrusts inside a few times, the warm wet sensation making him choke out a curse. It’s not quite like your pussy, but the heat is better than nothing. He pushes it flush against his pubic bone, another rush of liquid hissing through and muffled by Mr Quack’s soft innards.

If he wasn’t so fucking wasted right now, he’d fuck it into oblivion. give it the good ol'Miller beating. Fertilize its eggs, if you will. But with his bathroom situation now relieved, Joel yanks the thing off and chucks it to the ground. His brain collapses just as he falls towards the bed, drowning in his own much needed slumber.

-

you shake your head and laugh, hands on your hips at the sight in front of you.

Joel’s out cold face forward in your bed. His jeans are loosely wrapped around his hips and his old tee still on, so if it wasn’t for his loud snoring, you’d assume the man was dead. He hadn’t even made it fully on the bed, his tip toes still holding him up on the floor and legs dangling at an angle.

A few of your stuffed animals had managed to crawl out from underneath him, scattered around when he most likely dropped onto the bed. You pick them up one by one: dusty Carly the Crow, the now famed Mr Oinkers (with battery pack turned OFF), Whiskers the Cat, and poor old Puddles the Duc—

Your disgusted screech has Joel sitting up so fast he nearly capsizes off the bed. The confused, hungover lump is met with his bewildered and screaming girlfriend who’s yanking him by the neck and wringing him viciously with as much might as you can muster.

“STOP—FUCKING—PISSING—IN—MY—PLUSHIES!” You roar with wild eyes and gritted teeth, choking him within an inch of his life. You shake his neck up and down like you’re going to hammer his head into the bed post. 

It takes him a moment, with wide eyes and hands wrapped around your wrists, before his gaze lands on the poorly discarded evidence of last night: a very overly yellow duck soaking into the floor boards in a puddle of liquid gold.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[amomentsescape]

Hi! I kind of have an odd request for a house of wax fic but I’m wondering if you could do a Vincent Sinclair fighting with Lester Sinclair over the reader? They both really like her so neither one is willing to cave in lol. (Nothing polyamory wise!!!!that would be so weird)

Vincent & Lester Fighting Over Reader

Crushing! Vincent Sinclair x Reader, Crushing! Lester Sinclair x Reader

Warnings: Gets a bit dark at the end if you squint

A/N: Not odd at all! Thank you for your request!

When you first showed up to Ambrose, all the Sinclair brothers (even Bo) were surprised to see you there

Nobody really came through here willingly

And although the museum was the main highlight of this town, hearing that you came for the quiet definitely raised a few brows

Mostly Bo's, who almost turned you into a wax figure before Lester and Vincent intervened

From then on, Bo let off and the other brothers sort of became your guides

Lester liked taking you through the town and showing you all the old buildings, pointing out everything they used to be

And Vincent enjoyed showing you his latest art and all of the different things set up in the museum

It felt nice to finally be in an area where you could find some peace, and the fact you made a couple buddies along the way only made you happier

But unfortunately, you didn't really know what was going on behind the scenes

Every trip you made outside with Lester was being followed by angry eyes through every window

Each time you were inside hanging out with Vincent, you couldn't help but feel like there was somebody right outside the room listening in on you both

But it was easy to shrug all of this off

You were in a town that was practically abandoned, there was bound to be a bit of a creep factor

But whenever you tucked in for the night, that was when feelings were really ignited

Lester explains how happy you seem getting to explore the town

There was no way you'd ever be content staying inside all of the time, being secluded from the world

But Vincent is always quick to show the newest art he's been helping you with, showing Lester that you were having a great time with him

Bo is always down there cursing up a storm before the arguing can be taken too far

But he knows the next night will be the same

Eventually, things start to become noticeably off for you

Your adventures with Lester are cut short by Vincent needing some help in the museum

Your time with Vincent is constantly invaded when Lester barges in, explaining that he found some new historic thing that he knows you'd love

It's getting to the point that you are unable to spend any time with one brother without the other one intruding

You enjoy both of their company, but there's always this tension whenever you all are in the same room together

As much as they want to, neither one will actively lash out onto the other

Lester knows what Vincent is capable of

And although he trusts his brother, there's something dark in his eyes whenever your name falls from Lester's lips

But at the same time, Vincent won't do anything to Lester

He knows that all it could take is one wrong move, and Lester could have you in his truck, driving far away from Ambrose only for Vincent to never see you again

These stipulations cause both brothers to only take things so far

So for now, you spend time with them like normal while you enjoy the rural town

And both brothers will staring longingly at you while spewing jealousy towards each other

Just be careful, because you don't fully know what they are capable of yet

And unfortunately, their boundaries will only last for so long before something breaks

[littlestarbigsky]

peril angst ahhhhhh

so i posted a short version of this earlier this week and im obsessed with this concept so now theres a whole fic and all the accompanying angst. eat up babes😚

pony and soda pretended not to notice, but they knew. actually, they knew much more than darry thought they did. there were things he was just bad at hiding and they all silently agreed not to discuss it, but there were also things that darry actively hid from them. they knew anyways, though. but darry didn’t need to know that.

they all knew he stayed overnight at paul’s house after football games… sure, they all liked to buddy around after a win, downing a couple of beers a piece while paul’s parents were out of town on business. darry was never quite sure if his brothers knew that the rest of the guys were back home by their curfew at midnight.

it had seemed innocent enough for a while, until darry started staying over for whole weekends. nights when they didn’t even have a football game to cover for them, darry sneaking back in just in time to catch a few hours of sleep before school on monday.

everybody knew that something had happened with paul. darry had long since given up pretending it hadn’t, and they’d all figured out the hard way that whatever happened his senior year was something darry would probably never talk about again.

things seemed to get hazy when darry graduated and paul introduced him to bob, the new kid who had just transferred from the prep school. they’d gotten along fine and everything that summer had been alright until it came up that darry was from the east side.

the phone bill started to go down as darry stopped making so many calls across town. it had been weeks since paul’s white t-bird was honking outside their house. all of a sudden, darry was spending more and more nights bugging the gang to play football in the lot, going over to buck’s to play pool with dally, hell, he even went on something of a bender with two-bit right before he left for school.

as much as their parents bugged him about finding a girl he liked at school, all he had to talk about his classes. every now and then he would talk about the football guys, and how they were just never as close as his high school team was.

pony and soda watched him change. before paul and after paul, night and day.

they had all pretended not to notice paul lingering in the back row of the church the day of the funeral. he didn’t even have the nerve to come up and speak to them or stay long enough to merit taking off his coat, maybe even follow the funeral procession to the cemetery to catch darry when there weren’t so many people.

he had told his brothers that he was meeting some of his old friends, that he would be back late and not to wait up for him. soda and pony didn’t discuss it, not even with each other, but they watched him drive off in beverly’s baby blue corvette with a pit of sickening dread in their stomachs.

what soda and pony didn’t know was that it was the first time in near a year that things had felt like they had before. the first time since his parents died that people talked to him like he wasn’t made of glass, like saying the wrong thing would shatter him into a billion shards.

they went down to their old favorite spot, down by the river where they could skip rocks and no one would hear them if they got a bit too drunk and started shouting. bob’s parents were out of town, so he had more than enough liquor for all of them, and trip and brill had brought more packs of cigarettes than darry had ever seen in his life.

it was all so much. he had just had the worst week of his life, who could blame him for losing control?

soda and pony didn’t know that none of them drank anything, not so much as a drop. even chet had abandoned his cigarettes for the night. they just let darry keep on downing beers until he couldn’t see straight. they didn’t know that when bev started joking around about jumping into the river, darry had been too drunk to know that they were egging him on.

he forgot that it was january. he forgot that he was way too far gone to be able to swim. he forgot that he didn’t have parents anymore, that his brothers needed him now.

nothing sobers you up quite like a freezing river with an unforgiving rip current.

even through his numb and drunken haze, darry knew the moment he hit the water that it was a mistake, that they had set him up.

flailing in the icy water, watching them pile into that stupid blue corvette, he tried to scream. whether it was out of anger, to get them to come back so he could knock their teeth out, or fear, because god he was dying, but he just swallowed more filthy river water. he could hardly keep his head above the water for long enough to gasp in fresh breath, let alone cough out the water he had inhaled. for a moment, one terrifying breath of time, he knew he was going to die.

what pony and soda never managed to figure out was how. sure darry was alive, and sure he had made it out, but how? death had come for their brother, just like it had their parents, but something had stopped it.

something had grabbed darry around the waist and hauled him back to the riverbank and dragged him up into the grass, the weight of him familiar. that something had pressed an ear against his chest and listened for a heartbeat, and for a moment, remembered that feeling from a lifetime ago; when there was nothing between them but a thin sheet and dumb love. fresh water dripped off of chocolate brown curls, steely blue eyes watering as he whispered, “i’m sorry… i’m so sorry…”

darry woke up alone, soaking wet, covered in mud, and colder than he had ever been in his life, and all he could do was roll onto his side and throw up into the grass. it took him at least fifteen minutes to gather the strength to push himself off the ground, realizing he wasn’t getting any warmer.

none of them knew how he managed to get back home, still drunk off his ass, tripping over his trembling, hypothermic legs, barely able to see four feet ahead of him in the dark.

darry didn’t remember getting home, but soda did. sitting outside on the porch, a blanket over his legs. he heard darry before he saw him, coughing up a lung halfway down their block. he’d sprinted to meet him, is heart falling straight through to his stomach as he saw darry’s soaking wet clothes sticking to his chest and arms, water dripping down his face from his hair.

soda remembered throwing the blanket around his shoulders and hurrying to get him inside the house. it wasn’t that much warmer in there, but it was better than nothing. he saw darry’s blue lips and red eyes, skin white as snow. he had sat him down on the couch, wrapped in the blanket like a straight jacket and shaking uncontrollably.

ponyboy remembered walking out of his bedroom to get a glass of water to see soda changing darry’s clothes for him, the waterlogged clothing landing heavily on the floor. soda was muttering to himself, but it seemed like darry was bordering on catatonic.

“soda?”

soda whipped around to see their little brother in the kitchen, mouth hanging open, looking like he was about to be sick.

“i thought you were in bed,” soda answered shakily, not stopping his ministrations.

“what-” pony tried to say. “what happened to him?”

soda let out a strange squeak from the back of his throat, “i… i don’t know, honey.”

pony watched silently as soda got darry changed and into a sweatshirt and pajama pants, toweling his hair dry and help him stand up on legs that no longer seemed willing to support him. pony rushed over, grabbing darry from the other side, and helped soda get him into bed. without saying a word, they both crawled in next to him, extra blankets tucked around all three of them.

god, they remembered being so scared, what if darry had really been sick? what if he hadn’t made it home and nobody found him? he needed to be okay. he had to be.

darry woke up the next morning with a splitting migraine and cottonmouth and his two brothers curled up around him. he only remembered fragments of what had happened, but the sight of the two of them bundled up in blankets and trying to keep him warm…

he never wanted to forget.

[kteezy997]

I’m With You- Part One// Lee (Bones and All)

I haven't seen hardly any new Timothee fics on here, and like no Lee fics, so here's this. I hope you like it(:

warnings: reader abandoned by parents, lonely reader, hitchhiking, cursing, some fluff

Your parents weren’t that great. They did the bare minimum when it came to taking care of you. They gave you a warm home, clothes on your back, and enough to eat. Beyond those necessities, though, they didn’t take any interest in you and weren’t affectionate or kind in the slightest.

You just turned 18 and had finished high school, and they kicked you out, telling you to make your own way in the world. It was the mid 80s, and you had heard of kids your age hitchhiking to get around the country. You didn’t have a real destination in mind, but you took to the road anyway.

Your parents had given you a wad of cash in an envelope to get you by for awhile. But you wanted to make your funds last as long as possible, so you had taken up the way of petty theft, just to get the things you needed. You knew it was wrong, and you didn’t necessarily like doing it, but you had little other choices.

You were at a small grocery store, kneeling down and tucking tampons into your bag when you heard ruckus. It was a disorderly man, causing trouble with the staff and other customers. You turned you attention to the sound of the commotion. “What kind a grocery store runs outta lunchables?” the man grumbled loudly.

Just as he came down the same aisle as you, a young mother with a child sitting in the shopping cart came around, politely excusing herself as she passed him. She was trying not to make eye contact with the strange man. “Whoa! Tryna run me down?” he hollered after her as she hurried down the aisle. “I asked a question! Listen, ya dumb hoe!” “Don’t talk to her like that!” you yelled at him.

“Aye!” You heard another, younger, male voice call out from the other side of you. You looked over and saw a thin man, about your age, maybe slightly older. He had curly hair and the ends were a grown out pinky color and the sides were shorter than the rest of his hair. He had a bluish pink short sleeve shirt on, which you thought was a somewhat odd choice for him to wear.

“You’re outta control, buddy.” he said calmly, but firmly. You looked back over for the disgruntled man’s response. “You with the store or somethin’?” he asked, scowling. “Nah, I’m not the store, but I’m gonna escort you out of it.” the young man said, in the same plain, matter-of-fact tone. The old guy scoffed, “Fuckin see what happens!” With that, the pink haired man got in his face and next thing you knew, they were headed outside.

Even after they had left the building, you couldn’t stop thinking about the boy with the pink in his hair. There was something about him that was drawing you to him. Maybe you just needed someone. Maybe he was it. You hung around the store parking lot for a while, and noticed pink hair boy come out of an abandoned building nearby. He had the old man’s hat on, and he was pulling his shirt back on. He wiped his face absentmindedly. You didn’t really think much of it because he called out to you.

“Hey.” He said approaching you closer. “You’re still here?” You cleared your throat, feeling nervous as he addressed you. “Yeah, um, I don’t have a ride. But you seemed nice.” He smirked, “I am nice.” He then walked over to the beat up blue truck that had been sitting empty since you had walked out of the store.

“So, what happened with that guy anyway?” you asked, following him. “I took care of it. He’s not gonna bother anybody around here anymore.” He opened up the truck’s driver side door, and tossed his duffel bag onto the seat. “This your truck?” “It is now.” he said, confidently.

You inhaled through your nose, and asked, “Do you mind if I tag along with you for awhile?” “Nah, I don’t mind. Get in, let’s get out of here.” You did as he said, hurrying to the other side of the truck and letting yourself in. You sat on the cushiony seat and set your bag beside you. Part of you was giddy to finally have a companion after so long. Especially this cute and mysterious companion.

He got in behind the wheel, letting the door slam after him. “So, how old are you anyway? I’m not kidnapping someone’s kid right now am I?” “Oh, no, no. I turned 18 awhile back. No worries.” He hummed, “Okay, good to know.” he turned the key in the ignition, firing up the truck and pulling on the gearshift to begin driving.

As he drove off into the night, the two of you were silent for a while, then a few miles down the road, you asked, “So where are you headed?” “Nowhere in particular. I gotta stop by my hometown, though. I promised my little sister driving lessons.” This made you smile, “Oh, that’s sweet of you. What’s your sister’s name?”

“Kayla, Kay, or Idiot, as I call her.” he chuckled. “You two are pretty close, I guess?” You were intrigued by him, by his story and the way it would unfold before you. “Yeah, you can say that. It’s just…we’ve been through a lot. She doesn’t have a father figure or anything, so I try to do what I can when I’m around town.” “That’s really good of you…um, I just realized I don’t know your name.”

“Well, I don’t know yours yet either, stranger.” he smirked, taking his eyes off the road and glancing over at you. He was so handsome, in a rough around the edges sort of way. “I’m y/n.” “I’m Lee. I guess we’re not strangers anymore.” He then took a turn down a dirt road off of the highway.

“Wait, where are we going?” “Don’t worry, it’s just a place to stay for the night. It’s one of my buddies’ place. I wanna shower, anyway. I’m sure there’s something decent for you to sleep on. If you’re okay with that?” You shrugged, “Sure, that’s fine.” He was right, you were dying for somewhere comfy to sleep.

Lee led you into the small house. There were cigarette butts everywhere and empty pizza boxes. The place was trashed, definitely owned by someone who didn’t care to clean up after themselves. “So I’ve never actually been in here. I can’t give you like a grand tour or anything.” he said, looking around and glancing down a hallway.

“I’d say the bedroom’s down here. Follow me.” Lee instructed and you allowed him to lead you again, this time through the dingy hallway and into a bedroom. “It’s not as bad in here.” he said. And you noticed the room was kept a little cleaner than the rest of the house, so you were glad for that.

“You can sleep here. I’ll take the couch later.” he spoke again while looking around the room, at the posters on the wall. "Oh, he has Lick it Up." he said, his tone turning up in an excited way looking at a specific poster. he then turned to you, "You know KISS, don't you?" You smiled, "Yeah." "Lick it Up is the album they did without makeup." he said, looking at the record player. "I bet he has it somewhere." he said, thumbing through the album collection on the floor.

"Oh yeah, there it is." he picked the record up, showing it off to you. "I'm gonna put it on, if you don't care." You shrugged and blushed at the notion of him genuinely wanting your opinion. "Go for it." you replied. He put the record on, and turned the volume up, surely upsetting any close neighbors. Lee instantly began mouthing along with the lyrics as they played and he improvised his own dance moves. This was a person being his complete, authentic self, and living on his own terms. He didn't care if you thought his dancing was goofy, he was just letting loose.

On the contrary, you found his moves kinda sexy, especially when he started to jump up and down, really feeling the rhythm of the music and vibing. You were nearly swooning and couldn't stop smiling as he began to sing as he looked at himself in the mirror. "I'm gonna get a shower." he said, looking over at you briefly before moving across the floor to exit the bedroom.

You were then left alone, and you looked around the rest of the room. You pulled off the covers from the bed as they didn't smell the greatest, and you pulled out your own blanket that you traveled with. You heard the shower water turn on as you changed into a set of night clothes. You were tired, and grateful to have an actual bed to sleep on, no matter how springy or smelly it was. So, you got into bed, and snuggled up with your blanket, trying to feel as at home as you could.

Just as you were drifting off to sleep, you heard the loud squeaking of the floorboards. It was Lee, thankfully. "Hey," he whispered, "I didn't mean to wake you, just wanted to make sure you were settled in okay." You blinked, noticing he was shirtless and wearing only a pair of thin sweatpants. "mm-hmm." you mumbled, rubbing your eyes and stretching your back a bit.

"Alright, I'll just be in here on the couch, ya know, if ya need me." He smiled kindly. "Okay, thanks." you said in response. "Sweet dreams, y/n." he said, grabbing the doorknob and flashing you a cheeky little grin. You blushed, taking in the way he looked at you as he shut the bedroom door. You didn't know him very well yet, but Lee was making you feel things. The warm, fuzzy feelings that you didn't think were in the cards for you: an abandoned, unwanted teenager. He made you feel welcomed. He made you feel like you weren't a burden, which was not something you were accustomed to. It was as if he was actually glad to have you along with him.

@chalabagellunafluff

[bropunzeling]

for the never have i ever meme: slow burn!!

god a real true slow burn is my white whale, concept wise; i want to write one SO BAD. obvi there are some pairings where that is easier than others (brady/anyone, ducklings could also make a great slow burn but probably more stupid than swooningly romantic lol) but i keep thinking about matthew/leon as like, a personal challenge. like, ofc i have written them fucking and falling in love [redacted] times but a version of them where they don't fuck and still fall in love??? now that's a CHALLENGE challenge

for more realism points, you could have some future fic wacky trade shenanigans, and perhaps someday i will write somethign with those so i will selfishly keep them to myself until i know more. but a thing that i am not going to write (but think about often) is my version of "both of them get drafted by the kraken in the expansion draft (and no one knows how edmonton or calgary could've let that happen)"

because the thing is, the kraken are gonna be shit. everyone knows this. seattle isn't vegas, they're not going to be going to the cup finals their first year out the gate. ron francis has time to build up the franchise. they won't be good. and that eats at leon, because like, when in his life has he ever been satisfied with not being good? never. and now he's stuck on this shitty team just starting out and got abandoned by his franchise and what the fuck is he supposed to do now.

and the other thing is, 2020 was not all that long ago. and yeah, leon never actually hated matthew tkachuk, not in the way it got spun up, but that doesn't mean they're best friends. not even buddies. they are teammates, and they have a job to do, and leon doesn't need to get along with the guy except on the ice.

except a week into the preseason, he and matthew go for some pr thing to a local brewery, and in between tasting beers that are disgustingly hoppy and eating too many pretzels, matthew hisses across the table that look, he knows leon doesn't like him, that leon isn't his biggest fan, but doesn't he want to work together? doesn't he want this to work out? and when leon glares back, matthew adds that he at least wants to prove his old team wrong.

well. leon can't argue with that.

first season is shit. the way everyone knew it would be. but it's not - absolute shit. they get a lot closer to the playoffs than they have any right to. leon and matthew and mccann are producing. and - turns out matthew isn't so awful, once he's out of calgary. turns out he's down to do whatever - team bonding experiences, checking out new restaurants. and half the time, leon gets roped along. he stops protesting after a while.

second season, though -

they're better. they're a lot better. francis made some solid moves; they managed to snatch up a first overall pick at fourth. matty beniers is here from ann arbor, and yeah he looks at matthew a little like matthew hung the moon, but that's mostly funny instead of annoying. the ntdp really is a cult. matthew and leon aren't always on a line, but when they are, they click.

and matthew hasn't stopped being down to do whatever. has continued, in fact, to insist on doing things. exploring the city. becoming regulars. they'll get lunch after practice. drinks after games. on the road, more often than not, when leon's making plans, he's making them with matthew.

halfway through the season, they're on track to at least get a wild card spot. maybe better. during their bye week, they join a group of guys going to cabo. at the bar, matthew orders them both drinks in flat midwestern-accented spanish, clinks his shot glass against leon's. leon spends half a second staring at matthew's hand around the tiny glass, then his mouth, wet and red, before he remembers to take the shot.

when leon takes his shot, he opens his eyes to find matthew looking back at him, eyes dark and heated and unmistakable, and oh, this is not something leon wanted to know that he wanted. not now, when they still have so much to prove.

[bekkachaos]

For the AU asks what would happen in a Buddie Apocalypse fic? 🤩

Okay one, Buddie apocalypse (dirty scruffy, trauma-hardened men with baseball bats and playing it loose and fast with shotguns) would be super hot. Two, I have these thoughts:

The 118 have a small homestead that they live on, defended by fences they've put up and booby traps to let them know when someone (or something) is approaching, they grow their food, managed to find some chickens along the way, they've got it pretty good when they're not defending themselves from what's out there.

ENTER RIVALS TO LOVERS

Eddie appears and offers help in exchange for shelter, Buck is against it until he realises Eddie is travelling with a kid in which case "fine only because he has a child in need I DON'T like this guy though" and Eddie's all "don't worry, pretty boy you're not my type either"

Eddie acts like a tough guy (is really very soft and gentle and wants to find love in the dark apocalypse). Buck acts like he wants peace and harmony (but damn when Eddie first saw him swing a bat into a zombie to save his life, covered in dirt and blood and sweat, oh damn).

They of course get separated from the crew and have to hide out in an old barn because they're in the area of a rival group and they're looking for them (cue bickering between themselves followed by Eddie closing the space between them and covering Buck's mouth with his hand to shut him up, both of them pressed against each other into a corner with Eddie's finger on the corner of his mouth as they hear them walking around the perimeter and how the fuck are Buck's eyes so blue? And where is all that anger and mistrust? Why does he look like... that? And why is my hand still touching his mouth the danger has very clearly passed)

Then of course you have walking back in awkward silence, sharing odd glances. Eddie asks why Buck saved him back there where he can't stand him. Buck tells him he just doesn't trust new people, not until they've proved themselves, he's been burned before, but better he save Eddie so he can go back to Christopher.

A STORM BEGINS TO BREW

They are damp and too far to make it back before it gets dark, they break into an abandoned house (THERE'S ONLY ONE BED) they raid the kitchen for some canned goods, they raid the closet for some clothes so they can sleep dry, Buck offers Eddie the bed but he won't take it. "Least you could do after saving me is take the bed". "Maybe it'll help you on the way to trusting me".

God Buck looks beautiful in soft fresh clothes, even if they are a little stale Eddie can't stop staring and shit, pretty boy is kind of exactly his type. Buck settles in the bed, Eddie lays a blanket on the floor but doesn't lie down. He asks Buck what the look was in the barn, when he silenced him, there was a look and Buck just sighs without looking at him.

"Everyone has someone they've found along the way. They all have arms to fall into at the end of another shitty day at the end of the shitty world. You ever just forget what it feels like to be touched by another person? Not like a sister, not like a friend, not patching up a wound. People aren't exactly easy to come by, or easy to trust when they do. No one's touched me like that in years. I needed a moment. I took it. That was the look. Just forget it, sounds stupid just.. forget it."

Eddie sits down on the bed Buck still won't look up at him, not until he's kneeling by his side, fingers grazing his elbow and guiding him onto his side so he can lie down beside him and just press himself into Buck's back, wrapping his arm around Buck's arm and pinning it to his chest tightly, letting his nose press into the back of his neck. Buck's other hand reaches up to hold Eddie's wrist so tight, and they don't say anything but Eddie can feel the soft sobs of relief in Buck's chest until they fall asleep together.

And of course more angst and miscommunication in the morning before they sort their shit out, maybe some blood and another life saving before they kiss in this release of passion and feelings and pent up EMOTIONS

Okay I am done oopsie 😅

Send me an AU and I'll give you five or so facts / events that would happen in the story!

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Oh Bexxx, my dear, you KNOW how bad we all got it for Sam right now after that viewing of You Might, so could you PLEASE bestow upon to us some good ol' Sammy boy? I got some prompts that I know would fit him so well. “I’ve never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time.” , “That was the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard.” , and, “I thought your laugh was the prettiest sound in the world. I was wrong, it's your moans.” He just makes me FEEL things and I can't help myself, but please go nuts! I need soft smut asap! Thank you, queen~

Okay man this took too long for me to get to for fucking real but here it is! A full out, massive request filled for the BIFF! So I wrote this all last night and edited it tonight, I hope you fucking looove it. I have wanted to do this fic for like fucking ever. There is this movie I totally love called, “YPF” or “Young People Fucking.” It is a comedy that follows several couples who fuck on the same night, going from pre-lude and foreplay all the way through to afterglow and one of the couples are two life time best friends and the dude, Matt, gives me MASSIVE Sam energy. I have been craving doing a fic with him based off that movie so I hope you all enjoy this! Major credit to said movie for all the inspo and some of what must be my fave dialogue in any movie, (Shoutout to Kris you totally inspired me just as like a person with your attitude, speech pattern and confidence, what a real one.) 

Let’s stop wasting time and let's get into it!

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 8.4K. Sam Wescott X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Best Of Friends To Fuck Buddies. Mentions Of Cheating. Shit Talking. Banter. Teasing. Making Out. Blow Jobs. Pre-Mature Ejactulation. Hand Jobs. Cunnlingus. Vaginal Sex. Intense Feelings. Crushes. Begging. Creampie.

—

It’s Making Me Freak Out!

—

You had been friends with him longer than you had been friends with basically anyone in your life at this point. He wasn’t your first friend but some people, just like how people have a tendency to do, had left your life, he however was still here, someone you could count and rely on. So naturally, when your years-long relationship ended, with a bag stuffed full of the belongings that had been kept at your now ex’s apartment you showed up on his doorstep, confessing as soon as the door opened, “We broke up.” 

He was nothing but understanding, doorknob abandoned in favour of a rare hug between the pair of you as he said, “I always fucking hated that guy.” You naturally returned the hug with both arms with something that was a mix of a sob and a laugh, “Yeah he fucking sucks.”

He pulled back, hands still on your arms as he was saying, “RIght?! That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time!” Samuel Justin Wescott could always make you laugh more than anybody else. 

You ended up on his couch, favoured movies and too many snacks and empty beer bottles on the coffee table as you recounted the whole thing and got it all out of your system. You bitched and vented and he was nothing but supportive in that very him sort of way. You crashed there that night and as days bled into weeks and then months you started to do significantly better and how much Sam was there for you definitely helped you along. A few months after said difficult break up you had a growing concern gnawing at your brain stem that refused to leave but it was nuts, like the very idea of it was insane but you found it hard to let it go and as time continued to wear on it started seeming less crazy and more logical, it was downright genius. 

And so one Friday, a few drinks into a hangout with Sam you said, “I think we should fuck.”

The next sound was him choking, followed by a cough, maybe stating that so casually with no lead up when he was mid-sip wasn’t the smartest move. A hand on his throat as he struggled to regain his breathing, his other hand setting down the beer bottle so he wouldn’t drop it, finally getting down a big enough breath to gasp out, “Wha-what?!”

You take another sip, trying to play is cool, a small shrug before repeating yourself verbatim, “I think we should fuck.” 

Taking that moment to meet his gaze made you fight back a laugh, looking insanely shocked, mouth agape. Now it was your turn to say, “What?”

“What do you mean what?! My best friend of like I don’t even know how long just said we should fuck the same way someone might suggest a new restaurant to try for dinner! And I’m supposed to be like, normal or act like this isn’t-” He was rambling, you cut him off, “Isn’t what man?”

“Isn’t a huge fucking thing to just throw out there so casually!”  He was seriously close to freaking out, spiralling hard and trying to brush it off and so you said, “Oh my God, forget it, nevermind!”

“No, no we aren’t going to! I know you, there is a reason for this, something is up-” You throw up both hands, “Nothing is up! I never should have said something, shoulda known you would have-”

“Would have what?” He asked and you sighed, not wanting to say it and he asked, leaning closer, elbows on the table, “Well?” So you finally said, “Gone all Wescott about it.”

“Gone all-oh my fucking God, you have so much faith in me!” He sounded exasperated but it was much more joking, much more light and so you smile and say, “Am I wrong?”

“What?” He asked and you couldn’t help but say, with a raise of your eyebrows, “Is ‘what’ the special word of the day or something?”  

“Answer the question!” He pressed and so you said, “Am I wrong for thinking you wouldn’t be able to handle this without freaking out?”

He opened his mouth to retort but instead picked up his beer and took another sip and you laughed, “Because you totally DID just freak out. Or to quote myself earlier you went all-”

“Went all Wescott, yeah, yeah, okay you aren’t wrong, but still! Ow.” He replied and you reached out, a touch of his hand before saying, “I’m sorry for so rightfully categorising you.”

“Such a bitch.” He sighed with a roll of his eyes, it was fond and you laughed before saying, “And you’re such a pussy but what else is new?” 

“Ooo you treat me so nice.” He teased and then followed up, “So why do you think we should fuck exactly?” 

Another sigh from you, the heaviest so far, “Okay so, you remember, my ex, obviously.”

“Yes, the shit-bag, the man who’s name we dare not speak, of course.” He responded and you said, “Right, exactly. Well it’s been like months and whatever and I have been thinking really hard about where I went so wrong, not just like this relationship, but like all of them cuz like every guy I have ever been with cheated on me-”

Now you were the one who was rambling and spiralling, you took a deep breath to steady yourself, “-and as it is you are like the only man I can stand to look at right now.” 

“Really?” He said with a quirk of his brow, seemingly impressed and glad that is the case, you smile yourself before you say “Yes, you are. So I have been thinking that I just need to fuck, just get it out of my system or I am gonna fall for some fucking asshole who is just gonna cheat on me again and then I will be right back where I started. Here. All sad and single and shit.” 

He takes another long drink before saying, “So, you get so pent up and cock hungry that your asshole radar goes screwy and you end up fucking the first attractive dude you find, who usually ends up being a total dick?” 

“Calling me cock hungry AND the hypothetical dude in this scenario an asshole and a dick in the same breath? Impressive Wescott, but yes I think that is what is sooo, if I fuck you, in theory, I can hold out until I met like a normal, non-cheating-non-jerk of a guy. For once.” Another sip before tacking on, “Present company excluded, obviously.”

Content that you had laid it all out there and he nodded along, “I mean it makes sense. Just, are you sure that is what this is?”

“Pretty fucking sure.” You affirm. He asks, tone unsure, “And you want it to be me?”

“Yeah! I mean again, you don’t suck and you’re the only dude I can even stand at present. And we have known each other foreverrr, I can trust you.”  He seemed to no longer be freaking out and considering it, this seemed to be turning around, going surprisingly well, better than you could have hoped for honestly, he wasn’t running out the door with a lame excuse.

“So what do you say, Wescott? You wanna help out your ol buddy? My future relationships depend on you screwing my brains out.”  You asked, holding a hand out. 

He exhales amusedly through his nose, “Jeeze no pressure right?” 

A hand runs through his short hair and you could tell by now his answer, you wait, a wide grin as he finally said, “Okay, okay yes, I’ll do it.”

“Yeah you will?!” You asked and he said with a laugh, “Yes, I’ll let you fuck my brains out so you can meet a normal non-jerky guy.” 

He took your hand and you shook on it. Both of you broke eye contact with a laugh over how ridiculous this was, you said on an exhale with a shake of your head, “What the fuck are we doing?” 

“I don’t fucking know anymore.” He said laughing along and the topic was shelved for that evening, happy at how well this went.  

So you both had next Wednesday off so you thought that Tuesday night would be as good as any so you find yourself at his apartment and soon enough on his couch. Bottle of liquor and two shot glasses on the coffee table in front of you. 

It seemed so easy last Friday but that was four days ago and when talking about it you’d already been hanging for hours and had multiple drinks in your system, it was all jokey and just very you guys, it was all in theory. 

But now you were here, about to actually do it and it wasn’t like you hadn’t entertained the idea ever but thinking about it and actually fucking your best friend of like twenty ish years was a totally different kettle of fish. There was a brief conversation over a strong drink when you came in but you didn’t want to waste time, could feel the nerves and tension radiating off of him and yourself.

You and he were facing each other, both sitting side saddle on the couch, intending to start this the only way you knew how, to get one of the most awkward parts out of the way, your first kiss with him.

“Don’t be lame-” You started and he said after clearing his throat, almost defensively, “I won’t. Now, fuck off.”

“No pussying out.” You said firmly.

“I’m not, will you just-” You cleared your own throat, cutting him off and saying, “Alright. Come on. Okay?”

“Okay, okay.” He agreed.

A pause, both of you in the same position, you say,  “You’re not moving.”

“Well, neither are you.” He fired back and you looked him up and down, “Jesus Christ man up, would you?”

He sputtered out, “I’m fucking…I’m closer to you than you are to me.”

Eyebrows knitted together as you respond to him with a question, “How the fuck does that work?”

He looked you up and down before saying, “Cuz I’m doing some moving and you’re not doing anything-” He calls it moving, you’d call it nervous fidgeting. You cut in, talking over him in the middle of his sentence, “You’re an idiot.”  And he continued on with his thought “-you’re just sass-bossing me-” Finishing with a very mature retort of, “-you’re an idiot.”

“Shut up.” You fire back and he shh’s you. 

All of this back and forth is totally just posturing because you and he are so nervous, reverting back to childish banter and barbs to try and hide how much this was, the inherent vulnerability and worry involved that this would fuck everything up. Even though Sam didn’t say it, he didn’t have to, you knew him and also had that same thought yourself, that if this doesn’t go well it could spoil everything. It could potentially ruin a lifelong friendship. You were trying to put the worry out of your head as much as you were sure he was too. 

A move of your head, you start to lean in as does he, “Don’t be a pussy.” You remind playfully and he says with a half nod, tone unsure but eyes determined, “I’m-I got it.”

You didn’t stop your forward momentum and neither did he, and one moment there is still space between you and the next, there is none, your lips touch and holy shit you are kissing Sam Wescott. His lips are soft, way softer than you ever thought they could be, he was so warm too, and fuck, he knew what he was doing. It wasn’t like you ever thought Sam would be a bad kisser but you realise while this was happening that you don’t think that you ever thought about kissing him seriously.

Your mouth moved on instinct, kissing him back nearly immediately, moving with him, his lips parted first, his bottom lip under yours, a slip of his tongue that made a rush of arousal wash over you from him doing it first, and with confidence you hadn’t counted on from him. You returned his efforts further, your tongue making contact with his and you swear you could almost feel him tense, you leaned closer, deepened it slightly and so did he. The heat grew considerably for another ten seconds before it became too much. You ended up pulling away first, moving to sit back on the couch properly, feet on the cushion below you, knees swaying back and forth, he moved, sitting back on the other side of the couch, hands up as his elbows sat on the backrest of the couch.

“Okay.” You said with a nod, thighs tensing, trying to grapple with the immediacy of how much that one kiss turned you on and he agreed, a nod as he said, “Yup.” 

You snuck a look at him, the way he had one leg crossed over the other, ankle rested on his knee, a thick swallow and you were sure he was hard even with the view of him obscured. 

You took a moment, trying to calm down, you really hadn’t been expecting one dumb kiss to get to you this badly, you needed to get a hold of yourself and seemingly so did he.

It had been weirdly quiet for too long now, normally when it was you two together you always had stuff to talk about so this was, strange to say the least. Then again you and Sam had never kissed each other before. Another drink was had, conversation forced, you weren’t gonna let this fail so early, not when you had barely gotten started. 

You take a deep breath, pick up your shot glass and down it, the burn feels good, emboldens you once more and you say as you sit back, “I think I’m drunk, you?”

“Maybe we waited too long.”  He said and you replied, “Maybe we should have another shot.” You lean forward once more, pouring another for yourself. 

You take it, knocking it back as he starts to say, “Ah I’m just worried about things going wacky.”

Shaking your head as you swallow the burn of the alcohol you hum, “Nuh-uh.” And he asks, “Do you think this is the smart thing to do?”

“All right, Wescott-” A hand on the backrest you turn to face him once again, sitting sideways on the couch you say, “I understand what you’re feeling, but listen up, cause I ain’t saying this twice. We all know my reasons for doing this but this is about you too and you’ve been stuck on some whore-bitch who dumped you-”

“Don’t call her a whore-bitch.” He interjected with a roll of his eyes and you didn’t stop, still going off, “-who dumped you like, seven months ago and treated you like shit for two months-” 

“Three months and two days-” He supplied and you groaned, hands reaching out, one on his shoulder, the other on his chest as you emphatically said, “Oh, you need to get laid!”

He coughs before agreeing, “Okay yes.”

“Very, very badly!” You insist and he looks back over to you, “Yes, I get it.” 

Onward you continued, “And instead of worrying about this, that, and the other thing, just focus on the fact that your balls need emptying.”

A raise of his eyebrows, eyes wider as you say, “Immediately. And that’s it. That’s all you think about because that’s all this is.” 

He cocks his head to the side, taking in what you said, you think it might be sinking in, a nod but then he says, “I just don’t want to jeopardise anything.”

“Okay look.” You say, putting a stop to his next ramble of trying to talk himself out of this with his neurotic worries, “Sometimes it’s something. Sometimes it’s meaningful. Sometimes it’s caressing faces and fingers intertwined and whispering little secrets in ears.” 

You say it softly, emotion and warmth colouring your tone as you look directly into his eyes, your hand still on his chest, feeling his heartbeat below your palm, firm, steady, quickening. 

A small pause before you then say. “And sometimes a fuck is just a fuck.”

His smile broadens, neither of you looking away as you expound, your hand lifting off of him, “It’s grinding your shit and emptying your balls and falling asleep right after you come and that’s what you and I are gonna do to one another because that’s what friends are for.” 

His expression is hilarious, smile had gotten dimmer, eyes showing he was trying to follow along but was confused, adorable honestly, but you don’t let it trip you up, a clap as you say, “So stop fucking up the game plan, down that shot, because right after that your old buddy here-” Pointing to yourself, “-is going to blow you.”

He breaks eye contact, shocked once again, almost as if it just hit him that this was really going to happen, you both seriously doing this, he turns back as he says with quiet disbelief,  “Uhm…You’re going to-?”

You made a mimic the motion of sucking a dick before mouthing the words, “Blow you.” 

His head turns once more, looking at the shot you poured minutes ago on the coffee table before sitting up, leaning forward, he picks it up and downs it, placing the glass back on the table, wrists rested on his knees and you sit in the same way to match him. You ask, “You ready?”

He hums with a nod, “Buzzed?” 

“Yeah-huh.” He agrees.

“Trim that shit up like we talked about?” You asked and he said, “Uh-yeah, I already told you I do that on my own-” 

“Okay.” You clap again and then turn to him, “High five.”

He does so immediately and without complaint as he always did when you offered one.

You scoop up the shot glasses and take them to the kitchen, he follows, bottle in hand, the shot must have worked because he asked, “What happened to you blowing me immediately, post shot?”

“Sorry I thought I should put these away because I know how your over thinking, worried ass gets, I would hate for you to be unable to get it up because you can’t stop thinking about dirty dishes on the coffee table.” You tease and he scoffs as he bottle set on the counter, “Again, the faith you have in me is astounding.”

You turn, push off the sink and come forward, your hands on his shoulders and you lean up, not dignifying him with a response instead choosing to kiss him again, sudden and deep, pressing him to the kitchen island. He returned the kiss, your tongue slipped into his mouth first this time and you could taste the shot still lingering as you were sure he could as well. Your head is swimming and you aren’t certain it isn’t from the alcohol, you break away, staring up at him, his cheeks were flushed, again you aren’t certain it isn’t from the drink on his part. 

“Who says I can’t blow you in the kitchen, Wescott?” You challenge as your hands slide off his shoulders and down his arms. 

You had seen Sam shirtless many times, especially at summer camp, but actually feeling him now, Jesus, seeing and feeling is a totally different thing. He had some good strength, you couldn’t wait for him to put it to use. Your hands find the top of his jeans and you start to unbutton them and he responds, “Uh no one I suppose, I mean you can blow me wherever you want to really, I’m not picky-”

You press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, a smile on your face as you say, “Hey Wescott?”

“Yeah?” He asks as you unzip his pants, then your hands catch the bottom hem of your top and you take off your shirt, you toss it aside, revelling in his wide eyes at the view of you just in your jeans and bra. You say fondly as you begin to sink to your knees, “Shut up.” 

“Okay, shutting up.” He nodded, looking down as your fingers hook in his belt loops, you lean in, your cheek to his bulge, lips catching on his zipper as you rub against him before starting to tug his pants down his hips. 

He lets you do so and then he can feel your mouth on him, through the last layer of his underwear, warm lips and even warmer breath has him putting his hands back, gripping the edge of the kitchen island. A few kisses are placed along his clothed shaft, his pants around his knees now and your hands slip back up his legs, nails dragging teasingly before you reach for the waistband of his briefs. You take a deep breath for courage before pulling them down and for the first time you see his dick, very hard and less than two inches from your face. 

“Holy shit.” You utter, lips parted as your eyes drag over every exposed inch of him.

He looks concerned, “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing just fuck, dude, you didn’t tell me you were packing heat!” He laughed, “What? When was I supposed to bring that up in our friendship? Hey bud, awesome cookies you brought to the bake sale, also I have a massive dick.” He added on after another shared laugh, “Also is it really that big?”

You scoff, a roll of your eyes, “Oh my God only dudes with big dicks say shit like ‘is it really that big?’, fucking, of course it is!” You wrap your hand around the base and he inhales sharply. “I mean look at this! Look how much of it is still left after I get my whole hand around it!”

He nods, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip before saying, “Yeah, uhm, shit, you’re right, it does look big in your hand.” 

“Duh dude.” You laugh before leaning in, honestly excited for this, the excitement and want far outweighing the nerves, wanting to wow him. “Get ready for me to blow your mind.” 

Your taunt makes him laugh, it’s breathy and nervous, “Yeah I’m ready for you to blow my dick, the jury is still out on my mind.” 

You might have bragged about your dick sucking skills previously in your friendship and a running joke was him never believing you, and you were about to prove him how wrong he was. You start easily enough, a lick from midway down his shaft, up the underside of him before your tongue swirls around the tip and you hear his breath catch from above you. A small smirk on your face and he is about to say something but you shut him up by slipping the head of his dick into your mouth, lips wrapping right around that sensitive ridge and you suck deeply. He gasped out, “Oh fuck-”

Your hand is still locked around the base as you pull off of him with a loud pop. You are looking up at him, hand beginning to stroke him, using your own spit as lube as you ask with a faux innocent smile, “You okay up there Wescott?”

He nods and says on an exhale, “Yeah, yeah, M’ fine.” You smile wider as you twist your wrist on the upstroke, “Good.”

You lean back in, slipping him back into your mouth, taking more of him, sliding him in deeper and he grips the island harder, knuckles going almost white as he tries to contend with the feeling of how wet and hot your mouth is. You bob up and down, hand moving in tandem, tongue running up the underside of his shaft, flicks and licks, messy open mouthed kisses, quick pace, lots of sucking, allowing spit and drool to leak out, getting sloppy with it, just as he had previously confessed to liking. The amount he tensed when you latched onto and paid heavy attention to his balls made you smile against him.

This was done all while you were looking up at him. He was very much not looking at you though, heavy breathing, nervous fidgeting and you pull off once more, “Are you sure you are okay?”

“Yeah, yes I am, why?” He asked, seemingly out of breath and caught off guard by your question, “Just, you aren’t looking at me and are real fidgety-”

“You keep looking at me.” He admitted, eyes darted to you and away again quickly. You accuse, “You said you like when girls look up at you during head!” 

“Yeah but it’s you! And so it’s not just like it’s a girl doing it, it’s all, ‘yeah that’s my dick in her mouth’ but when it’s you it’s like ‘oh there’s my best friend with my dick in her mouth’ and it makes me freak out-” He rambles and you laugh breathlessly.

“Wescott, everything makes you freak out! Just try to relax and focus on how good it feels, alright?” He nodded, a deep breath, the reassurance helps, he agrees, “Yeah, totally, how good it feels-”

And you had taken him back in before he finished speaking, his sentence breaks off with a choked off moan, his eyes closing and you feel a sense of pride as well as a drip in your panties. 

He sounded really good when he moaned. It pushes you on. You pulled out your best moves, you pushed him harder into the kitchen island with one hand while your other stroked and you sucked deeply, taking as much of him as you could, you gagged and he seemed to like that. His dick twitched in your mouth, his hips rocked forward involuntarily, a groan broke out of your name and you did it again. Take him deep, gag, choke yourself a little, you pick up the pace as you deep throat and then he is squirming, all of a sudden his fists clenching and unclenching, “Shit, wait, hold on I think, I uh, ahhhn, need a second-” 

You felt him throbbing in your hand and on your tongue and you stroked faster, a long suck with a moan against his shaft and he still tries to stop you, his eyes back open, looking down at you. Seeing you looking up at him with those, ‘fuck me eyes’ did not help at all on holdong off, a hurried moan of, “Wait, fuck, I said wait! Ohhh Goddd.”

He couldn’t stop you and so he couldn’t stop it and he came, hot and thick ropes spilling into your mouth and you don’t stop either. You slowed down slightly, not wanting to overstimulate him, doing what you could to draw out his pleasure, he was still holding onto the counter, weak in the knees, trying not to lose his balance from how hard he was cumming, buried well more than halfway inside you. 

Big swallows, taking every single drop without issue until his dick finally stopped twitching and his hand was on your head, pushing you back and you allowed it. You sit back on your heels, the back of your hand wipes your mouth and you say, “Wow Wescott, I thought you’d last longer than that! What was that? Three minutes or four?”

“Fuck you!” He huffed and you said with a wide grin, “I mean you were supposed to but now-”

He was still catching his breath as he defending himself, “Gimmie a minute! I can go again.”

“Oh can you?” A taunt he clearly took offense to and he said, “Yes! I can, fucking, come on.” He reached down, one hand snagged his pants and underwear, he pulled them back up, his other hand hooking under your bicep and he hauled you up onto your feet. He dragged you along quickly, “Awe I must have touched a nerve! Where are you taking me?”

“To the bedroom.” He stated firmly as you were now in the hallway, “What are we gonna do in there? Cuddle till you can get it up again?”

He pushed you into the bedroom, hard, and you fell onto his bed. He flicked the light on the nightstand on, “No, I’m going to eat you out till I’m hard enough to fuck you so I can wipe that smug fucking smirk off your face and shut you up.”

The show of strength dragging you here, pushing you on the bed, the promise he just made, you tried to hide how hot it was. You got the distinct feeling he could back his word up and you hoped against hope that feeling was correct. 

“You think you can do that?” You taunted, weaker than you meant to.

He was starting to take off your jeans, his own still open and low on his hips, he assured you, “I know, I can do that.” 

A pulse of your clit and hard swallow and with a nod, holding eye contact with Sam you said, “Fucking prove it Wescott.” 

Denim was tossed aside, and he took his shirt off, you assumed in classic Sam fashion trying to make it even because now you were in just your underwear and nothing else. He climbed on top of you, he kissed you, hard just like you had previously but also in the most him way possible. It was way too all consuming, hard not to get lost in, practically melting below him way too fast. His mouth soon dragged down, kisses over your jaw and your throat, his other hand sliding underneath, gripping the back of your neck and you gasped out, “What are you doing?”

“You said you liked it when guy’s kissed your neck like this?” He murmured, his tongue ran over your pulse point, teeth scraped as his nails bit in slightly, a light bite that had your back arching, “I-I do but ahh-”

“But what?” He asked teasingly, “Isn’t this just about getting off?” He had used that tone when you had both joked around countless times before but now with him on top of you and kissing your neck it made heat pulse inside of you.

“It is-” You assure, trying to ignore how hot you had gotten and how wet you were and he said, one of his legs slotting between yours, knee pressing against your clothed slit, “Well doesn’t this get you off? Or were you lying to me all those times we talked before?”

You shake your head, his other hand that wasn’t preoccupied with your neck, finds your hip, he makes you grind on his thigh and you moan, “I wasn’t lying.”

“Then stop whining and enjoy it.” He said easily as he started to slide down your body, lips pressing more kisses as he went. Soon he is on his knees on the floor, your panties are being tugged off, throwing them away and your legs are resting over his shoulders. 

You should feel some nerves being so exposed before him but you mostly feel excited he is seeing you like this. Any of those small remaining nerves were pushed away when he breathed out, “Oh wow.” 

“Wow?” You asked, his hands made contact, strong and firm resting on your mons, thumbs stroke down, parting you open, getting a good look, “Yeah, just, fuck, you’re soaked.” 

He admitted and you bit your bottom lip. You try to conjure a response but none comes as you feel him closer, warm breath on your wet folds, his mouth doesn’t waste time. 

His lips touched down on your clit and once again you are hit with the sheer softness and warmth of him. You suck down a deep breath as he lifts up, another kiss placed just right, a few mouth come and then his tongue slipping out to slide over you and fuck, you were unprepared for the jolt of pleasure that hits your system. 

He didn’t tease you about his oral skills before getting started because, well, he knew he didn’t need to. He knew you heard the rumours that flew around at Camp Clear Vista, he knew you know what people say about him and his mouth. There had been many jokes made before about it, you not believing him already made abundantly clear throughout your friendship and within two minutes he was proving you wrong. He warms you up beautifully, open mouthed kisses, lips and tongue paying attention everywhere, running through every nook and cranny he could find, was impossibly attentive. As if he knew just when it was needed he switched to focusing more where you needed, tongue ran up and over your clit, a flick that made you moan, thighs tensing around his head. He hums out, “Good?”

A shaky nod at the rush of sensation the vibration provided, “Yeah, fuck, s’ good Wescott.”

Another hum, he seemed happy to hear that and doubled up. He found a rhythm that made your breathing extremely uneven. Your very ready and swollen clit between his lips, tongue circling it with a steady and even pressure that was currently melting your mind. 

How was he this good? Where the fuck did he learn to eat pussy like this? 

He ate you out like he was starving for it, like you tasted incredible and your satisfaction was the most important thing. It was more than that too however, you got the real impression he wasn’t doing this out of obligation, he was doing it because he really, really enjoyed it. You had been with guys who made claims of getting off on you getting off but it always turned out to be just that, pretty words and claims made in order to get into your panties, any upfront effort did not last once their dick entered the equation, but you had the feeling Sam was the genuine article. 

You looked down and you understood what he meant previously when you were sucking his dick. Seeing him being the one between your thighs, eyes closed in concentration, doing this was a lot to handle, mainly, the view of it was way too hot, it made your cunt clench around nothing, leak more and your clit throb. You had to force your eyes closed as you tried to forget it was Sam who was making you feel like this.

It shocked you how fast he got you to the edge with only his mouth. You weren’t prepared at all for this, you were shivering, so close, panting and trying to come up with how to warn him, you had a thought of getting him to stop, taking a breather, switch to sex or something but again, there was no hope for you. 

No time, no words came out, just a loud and honest moan, genuine vocal expression of the intense pleasure he made you feel as your fingers tangled in those navy bed sheets you bought him last Christmas. Hands tugging as you tried to ride out the most powerful orgasm you had in months thanks to his talented tongue, chest heaving as the feeling rose, peaked and then slowed down until overstimulation threatened to seep you, you panted out, “Fuck, fuck, stop!”  

As soon as it left your mouth he pulled up, “What was that you were saying earlier about cumming quickly?” He asked and you finally managed to catch your breath, “Shu-shut up.” 

You reached up, your hand found the back of his neck and you pulled him to you, your mouth crashing into his, effectively silencing his argument with your tongue in his mouth, tasting yourself on him. He moaned into your mouth and he moved closer, settling back on top of you, pressing himself into your hip and you feel how hard he is again. He wasn’t kidding, you had blown him what must have been less than fifteen minutes ago and he was raring to go. Maybe you shouldn’t have teased him so much?

A rock of his hips and you broke the kiss, pulling on his jeans, “Get these off.” You demanded and one of his hands snapped your bra strap, “Get this off too then.” 

“Fair.” You agree as he gets out of his jeans and underwear and you arch your back, unhooking your own bra, you toss it and then you and Sam are naked together in his bed. 

This is really happening and you are so into it. Legs still trembling from how hard you came, seeing the sight of him totally naked and almost on top of you again, you are having trouble remembering the last time you were this turned on, felt like you had this much sexual chemistry with someone. That is all this was, right? Sexual chemistry. It had to be. 

Sam was leaning over, he opened the drawer on his nightstand and reached in and when you saw the small foil packet you asked, “Condom?”

“Yeah?” He nodded, “What, you don’t trust me, Wescott?” You teased, “No, God no, I just thought you’d want one.”

“Nope, I’m safe and as you know, I haven’t been with anyone in months annnnd I know you haven’t either so-”

A beat.

“Sooo it’s fine without?” He asked and you shrugged with a nod, “Yeah if you’re fine with it I am too.” 

He seemed unsure but he said, “Sure, I can handle it.” 

“Me too.” 

You weren’t sure that you could as you eyed him, without a doubt he is gonna be the biggest you’ve had like this but damn it did you want to try. He kissed you first again, slower as he eased on top of you and your heart was speeding up, you pushed on his chest and said,  “Wait, no, hold on.” 

You sit up and position him, sitting up with you in the middle of his bed and you slide into his lap, arms around his shoulders, his hands settle on your waist and he asks, “Like this?”

A nod, you wanted to be in a position you could be on top, have a lot of control and he still could too, you didn’t want to be under him, worried what it would do to you. “Mhmm.” 

You moved your hips, grind on his shaft and your breath catches slightly as does his, “Fuck, so uh-”

“This is happening.” You finish his thought, prodding your slick entrance with him as he said, “Yeah once we do this-”

There was no going back. Instead of saying that you reassure him, “It’ll be fine Wescott. Sometimes a fuck is just a fuck remember?”

“Right.��� He sighed with a nod, clearly trying to psyche himself up. He looked into your eyes, tone shockingly steady as he said, “A fuck is just a fuck.”

No point in waiting any longer. You position yourself just right and then ask, “Ready?”

He confirmed, “As I’ll ever be.”  You don’t look away as you then start to slide down, your hands looped around the back of his neck, his hands on your waist squeeze as you start to envelope him. Fuck, you were plenty warmed up and totally wet but the stretch of him almost hurts.

Almost.

Halfway down your eyes close as you focus on how delicious it feels as you take him inch by inch until you settle in his lap, him fully buried in you. 

A moment is taken then. Soaking in the feeling of fullness, of how good it is to have him bare in you.

Almost chest to chest you can just about feel his heart beating impossibly hard. Eyes open and you look up, meet his gaze and your own heart isn’t doing much better, threatening to beat out of your ribcage. Sam’s face is flushed, lips parted and eyes hazy, you ask, “You’re gonna pull out, right?”

“Totally.” He breathes and you start to move then. Hips rising, sliding him out halfway before letting yourself fall, impaling yourself on him again and you and he both let out a small moan. “Oh!” 

You move again, starting to ride him slowly and a minute in he begins to match you, rocking with you as you both work together to find your rhythm, he breathed out, “Fuck.”

“Right?” You let out a light and musical laugh as your hips fell once more and he leaned in, his hands sliding over your back, he pulled you closer as he fucked up into you. His mouth was on your neck as your forehead rested on his shoulder, he said it so quietly you almost missed it, “That was the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard.” 

You almost wanted to ask him to repeat himself, you were hearing things, no way he said that. You must have imagined it, what you thought you heard from him pulled at something in your chest. You push that down and increase your pace, forget emotionality, embrace the physical, this is about fucking, about getting off, not sappy feelings shit. 

Your legs wrap around his hips, feet now on the bed to better help yourself ride him. He was still helping as well, moving with you and when he rolled his hips, ground into you, a gasp tore from your throat from the friction it provided your clit. Your grip on the back of his neck loosened with every perfect move against one another, eyes closed, head falling back as you fill yourself over and over, grind and pulse and then you lose your grip. “Woah!” 

Your back didn’t have far to go thankfully, hitting the mattress, your legs still over his hips, him still inside, he is the one to laugh now, “Shit, you okay?”

A laugh along with him, “Yeah, M’ fine.” You reach out, grabby hands, needy as you prompt him, “C’mon don’t stop.” 

In the heat of the moment, desperate for more, you weren’t opposed to him taking control, it was Sam, you could trust him. 

He takes the que, comes down to meet you, moves his hips forward, fills you all the way and you moan again. Your arms are around him, legs wrap tighter around his hips and he sets the pace now. You expect him to go back to what you were doing, hard and even but he doesn’t. He stays deep inside you and he grinds and the friction where you need it most makes you nearly choke. “Ah!”

You think it’ll stop but it doesn’t. It isn’t so much fucking, it doesn’t feel like it, not rough pounding, a race to the finish line, it is much slower, seemed imbued with meaning, he continues it, grinds and writhes with you and you do as well. It goes on for minutes, the flow of it comes with surprising ease, the pleasure is intense, you squirm below him, moan and your head is thrown back, “Oh-fuck, that-s-”

“That’s?” He asked, hopeful. His weight on top of you, the smell of him, his wandering hands, his strong body covering yours, the fullness, you say, “S’ too much!” 

Your hands on his shoulders, one of your knees nudge his hip hard and you move, he lets you, he knows what you want, he lets you take control again, you roll together. Him on the bottom on his back, you fully on top and back in control. 

You start at a much harder pace, faster. “Better?” He asks with a chuckle and a shake of his head. 

“Yeah, sorry, couldn’t-” Your lie breaks off with a moan, he doesn’t push, instead he rocks up into you, crooked smile as he assures, “Don’t worry about it.” 

A swirl of your hips and he angles his and you brush that spot inside just right, “Ohh! Yeah, yeah, right there!” 

It happens fast, in about two minutes of both those spots being hit so right and all the build up, heavy breathing and shared moaning, bodies slick and working together, he says, “I’m going to come soon-”

“Oh my God, me too-” You confess, your hands were planted on his chest and he was so taken with you in that moment. You riding him, being so close with you buried totally inside, and you look down, meeting his gaze and the weight of all of it hits at once. 

True, sometimes a fuck is just a fuck. 

Bu this wasn’t just a fuck, it held too much meaning, felt way too good for that, even the sex that physically felt the best for you didn’t have this much emotion in it, never made you ache down to your bones with feeling like this did. It was Sam, it was always Sam, he had always been right there, understood you better than anyone. This wasn’t just some guy to use to get over your shit-head ex, no, this was your best friend. 

And you looking into each other's eyes, not having sex, not fucking, much, much more than that, it was like you saw the same realization hit Sam all at once.  

He speaks honestly as his hands squeeze your waist, “You’re so gorgeous.” 

The smile on his face is infectious, you smile too, until a few more moves of your hips again drags you out of your head and your sudden emotional realisation and back to your body, so close to coming but not close enough to him.

You need to be closer, you reach out, your hands catch his, he laces his fingers with yours as they go above his head, pulling you down with him by doing so. Your hips don’t slow, almost chest to chest, fuck it, you decide to be honest too. “This is better than I ever thought.”

He agrees, a shake of his head, tone full of feeling and near wonderment at you and this, “Ever imagined.”

“Oh my God you feel so good-” You cry and he says in a rush, continuing to thrust up into you, “You’re so beautiful.”

It is so close, the feeling creeping up your spine, you say what you feel, it is as easy as breathing, finally admitting what you now know you have felt for God knows how long, “Oh, oh, oh, I love you!” 

“I love you too!” His response fills your ears and that ends up being what pushes you over the edge as you stutter out, “Sa-ahh-am! M’ cumming-”

“Fuck, me too.” He grit out and you beg, you actually beg mid-orgasm, the three words break through the haze, far too blissed out and high on him to want anything else as you please, “Don’t pull out!”

It’s all the encouragement he needs, his hands squeeze yours as he allows himself to cum, filling you up with a long groan of your name, your hips squirm, walls milking him as your own pleasure finds its natural end. You both slowly stop moving, out of breath and you go slack on top of him, hands still linked together.

You can’t believe this is how it all turned out. 

He kisses the side of your face and you smile, you let his mouth move until his meets yours, a soft kiss is shared, you pull back looking down at him. He breaks the silence, “I thought your laugh was the prettiest sound in the world. I was wrong, it's your moans.” 

A wide smile, “So I did hear you say that earlier.” He laughed lightly, “Did you? Shit I tried to keep it quiet, I swear.”

“Mmm, I so believe you.” You tease and he says, “Speaking of believing people, what was that about a fuck is just a fuck? Sometimes it means something and sometimes it’s about intertwining fingers but this isn’t that?” 

His hands squeeze yours again, making a point of wiggling his fingers still between yours and you roll your eyes, letting go of his hands “Okay, okay you aren’t gonna hold this over my head our whole relationship are you?”

He pauses and asks, “Relationship?”

You scoff and purposefully clench on him, making him let out a small groan as you then ask, “Well we ARE dating now aren’t we?” He said it as if it was as clear as the fact the sky was blue, “Obviously.” 

“Sooo?” 

“Sooo I’ll try to be nice and only bring it up when it’s really funny.” You conceded, “I can allow that.” 

“Or when it’ll help me win an argument” He joked and you sighed, “Okay sure, Sam.”

“So I’ve lost the Wescott finally? I’m officially Sam since I am officially your boyfriend?” 

“Yeah you get first name privileges when you make me cum that hard.” 

Another beat before you ask, “So you meant what you said right? You didn’t just say it cuz like I said it right?”

He said, tone shocked, “Of course I meant it!” 

You defend yourself, “Cuz sometimes you do that thing where you say a thing because I did just to agree with me-” He laughed and his head fell back on the pillow, “Oh my God, no not this time. I mean it.”

“Really?” The grin almost hurt your face, “Well I bet you didn’t know but I had a crush on you back in fourth grade-”

“Awe I did know but I was with that guy so we couldn’t. I bet YOU didn’t know I had a crush on you in ninth grade-”

“I did but I was with-” You both stopped and you said, “Jesus we really do know everything about each other.”

Why did you ever wait so long and waste so much time on other people?

“Maybe that is why this is so good? Because we do?” He offered and you said, “Maybe, you might be onto something there.” 

You press a kiss to his forehead as you start to slide him out and get off of him. One of your hands slipped between your thighs as you moved to the edge of the bed, “You in a rush to leave?”

“Hardly, going to the bathroom.” You tell him as you carefully get off the bed, still cupping yourself, trying to hold some of the mess inside. He laughed as he watched you try to do that and make your way to the ensuite bathroom, you asked “What?”

His hand waves dismissively as he says, “Nothing, nothing. Just I’ve never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time.”

You threw up the middle finger on your free hand as you left the room and he called, “Love you too!”

[gayhoediaz]

how is the healthy communication smut fic coming along? I went back and reread some of your other works after having a truly awful day, and it just made me even more excited to have a new nie fic to look forward to!

aw sweetie i’m sorry you’re having a bad day!! sending all my love please take care of yourself babe 💕✨

i’ve been stressed with courses but i’m still putting down 1k a day, so it’s coming along! i’m almost done with chapter 1/3 (it’s gonna land at about 35-40k so the entire fic will likely be close to 100k, actually) it’s gonna take a while longer but i hope to have it up before my birthday on march 15th!

that being said, that fic is mostly all smut, and i do like to take some breathers, so it’s possible you’ll get something else before then to hold you over! @dickley-buddie and i are planning a new collab fic and i have some other small ones i might write too! 🫶

and just because ily and because i missed wip wednesday, here’s a snippet from the healthy communication smut fic:

Still holding most of the power - a comfortable shift from what they were doing a mere hour ago - Buck eventually ends up shoving Eddie up against the nearest wall, the one right next to the windows. Just as beautifully as he always does, Eddie seems to give into him, melt beneath his weight, almost as if he’s drinking in the feeling of Buck’s body pinning his own. Someone moans greedily into the next filthy kiss, but Buck genuinely doesn’t know which one of them is responsible for the sound, and he doesn’t care; when they’re like this, it doesn’t matter - they’re one.

By now, Buck’s suit jacket is somewhere on the floor, and he doesn’t really care to know where; Eddie started working on the buttons of his shirt from the bottom, but about two thirds of the way, he seems to have abandoned the rest, and as he tugs Buck’s bottom lip in between his teeth, Buck can’t possibly suppress the low, appreciative moan that pours out of his throat as Eddie’s hands slip beneath the fabric, short nails teasingly scratching across his nipples as his warm, safe palms slide over his skin. He got Eddie’s shirt open a long time ago, but neither of them have bothered to push it off of his shoulders - Buck far too busy cradling his face in between his hands, steering him into the next kiss, and the next one, and the next one - decidedly continuing to take control, reveling in the loving way that Eddie seems to melt beneath his touch - soft, and pliable, and wanting - from his lips, to his body, reaching into his soul - Buck knows it does, because he can feel it too. Every single time. How they connect - how they get sucked in. Tsaheylu. Only there’s nothing alien about it; nothing supernatural. It’s just love. Somehow that makes it all the more magical.

[from-the-clouds]

A little college!Ken request here! What about him practicing some type of speech or something like that and anytime he does good you reward him ;)

oh hey this was a no-brainer!!!! pls enjoy.

pic courtesy of @televisionchronicles (my laptop is shit and can't upload gifs to my posts for some reason right now???)

Summary: An education. Kendall invites you over to his place 'to study'. A loose continuation of my college!Kendall fic you can read here.

Warnings: Smut (minors dni). Oral sex (male receiving). Kendall being a little subby (if you squint).

WC: 2.3k.

Kendall was quite a sight as you pulled away from him once more; his lips swollen, cheeks flushed, looking down at you. Through a haggard breath, you spoke. “Okay, that’s enough.”

He pouted, and you smiled slightly, bringing your forehead to his. “You said we were going to study together, and so far you’ve been very…..distracting…”

“I could argue it’s you doing the distracting,” he whispered, the feeling of his breath ghosting along your neck made you shiver. “Did you really think-” he began slowly kissing down the column of your throat, sloppily, “That we would actually study?” His fingers began fumbling with the buttons on your shirt.

Giggling, squirming away from him, his hands abandoned their work and instead found the curve of your waist, where he began to tickle you mercilessly. Shrieking in horror, you tried to wretch away from him but he was far too strong, and you were in a compromising position, laughing too hard to find the strength to stop him. “Kendall-” you managed through hysterics. He was unrelenting.

Even when you finally wriggled out from under his grip, he found your feet, when you kicked him away he found your neck again, until you writhed off the couch and fell on the floor with a thud. “Okay, okay! I surrender.”

He peered at you from over the cushions of the couch, then leaned forward, reaching out to trace his pointer finger down the bridge of your nose and swipe his thumb along your bottom lip. Your stomach fluttered, unable to identify the emotion currently swimming in his dark eyes. “Come back here,” he tugged on your sleeve, helping you right yourself to sit on the couch alongside him once more.

It had been two months since you met him, and you weren’t really sure what this was. In some ways - you didn’t really care, because you knew better than to get attached. But it was probably a little too late for that, because it had crossed the threshold of strictly casual fucking some time ago. Plus, you weren’t really one to walk all the way across campus in the cold and snow just for some dick. Well, maybe you would, if it was his dick, but unfortunately for the both of you, there was also definitely something else there.

For one thing, you didn’t know any fuck buddies who sometimes didn’t fuck, and instead would ask you over just to cuddle in bed and watch movies. Or fuck buddies who practically forced you to sleep over, because they didn’t ‘want you walking home alone this late.’ You had almost expected that you’d come over just to study with him. instead, you’d been accosted the second you entered his bedroom – which you still didn’t mind.

“You’re actually gonna make me study, aren’t you?” he groaned.

“Don’t you have, like, a huge presentation tomorrow for your marketing class?”

“Hmmmmm….maybe,” Kendall shrugged, nonchalantly.

“You said it was worth, like, half your grade.”

“Uh-huh,” his hand grazed up your thigh, sliding between them, grasping greedily. “Maybe….I have other…more important research to do,” he leaned in again, and you let him kiss you. He was persuasive, hard to resist, and he knew what he was doing and he was so-

You dragged your mouth away from his again. “Ken, won’t your parents be super pissed if you fail?”

Something very ugly flashed across his visage, but you didn’t miss it. There was quite a sadness to him, easy to notice even in the little time you’d spent together. It remained hidden, mostly, but it seeped out on occasion. Particularly, whenever he took phone calls from his father, in the way that his shoulders slumped, his body stiffened. He’d leave the room, close the door, whisper in hushed tones. When he returned to you, you felt it in the drag of his fingertips along your spine, he’d place one of your hands on his heart, clasping his own over it. It wasn’t your place to ask, so you didn’t.

“You’re a really good influence,” he said, leaning in. “Such a good girl, aren’t you?” His tone was near patronizing, but that wasn’t what made you shiver while his raspy voice was in your ear. No, he only called you that in bed, and he knew exactly what it did to you.

“Why don’t you practice your presentation for me?” you asked. “And if you do a good job….maybe you’ll be rewarded.”

Kendall didn’t need to be persuaded, giving you a devilish grin and standing up to rummage through his backpack for his laptop and a stack of index cards with his handwriting scribbled all over.

As he began, using a slideshow on his laptop and reading off his notes, you immediately zoned out. It wasn’t that he was bad at presenting, or that it was boring - even though it was, some analysis of IBM’s business model, an overview of their company - it was that he’d already gotten you riled up, and now you were having a hard time paying attention. Instead, you were focused on his hands, thumbing through index cards, his eyes flickering over at you every few moments, the way his lips moved.

Slinking off of the couch, you began to crawl towards him on your hands and knees.

“Sales skyrocketed after their release of- what are you doing?” Kendall looked at you from over the edge of his notes.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t see the graph very well, I needed a closer look,” you feigned interest at the slide displayed on his computer. “Please, keep going.”

Are you fucking with me? He didn’t even need to ask, you could see the question written all over his face. You absolutely were. But Kendall shook his head and continued, mentioning something about supercomputers and typewriters.

Slowly, you knelt in front of him, tilting your head back and running your palms up the fabric of his jeans. “Despite their many competitors-” Kendall stopped again, lowering his index cards and tilting his head, while you gazed back at him, sitting on your heels, doe-eyed and innocent. “What?”

“You know that part of being a good presenter means being able to avoid distractions,” you stated, matter-of-factly, squeezing his thighs and “And you’re not doing a very good job of that, are you?”

“Uh-huh,” he answered, skeptically.

“So, don’t mind me.”

Kendall sighed, then continued. “Despite their many competitors, their adaptability in the ever-changing tech industry-” he gasped when your hand grazed over him through his jeans. He was half-hard already.

You sat back on your heels, removing your hands from him. His eyes were dark now, clouded with lust, but neither of you spoke. “Are you going to keep going?” he asked.

“Are you?” you answered, pulling yourself up by his belt loops, pressing your chin to his lower belly to look up at him, into those pretty, half-lidded eyes. Kendall’s free hand lifted to graze his thumb over your lower lip, poking it into your mouth. You sucked on his digit, obediently, and he groaned, head falling backwards.

“This is fucking cruel,” he whined, hips pressing forward on their own accord.

“No, I want to help you,” your voice was low.

Kendall seemed to get it then, and sucked a sharp inhale through his teeth. All this week he’d been desperate, needy for you, and even though it was excruciating, he would do just about anything to have your hands on him again. Just to show him how willing you were, you swiftly unbuttoned his jeans and began to pull them down his legs, excruciatingly slow.

“I fucking hate you.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” you murmured, palming him where he strained against his boxers.

“Fine,” he groaned, shaking his head. “Their adaptability in the ever-changing tech industry has secured them a major share of the market both in the United States, and abroad.”

Now, you had his boxers down around his ankles along with his pants, leaving him bare before you. Your mouth pressed hungrily along the insides of his thighs, to the base of where his cock hung, heavy and swollen and waiting for you.

And Kendall was being good, for now, gritting his teeth as he continued through his presentation, something about a dip in IBM’s sales during the 1980s, and early 1990s.

“After a series of reoganizations-fuck,” Your hand had finally wrapped around him, pumping him once before stopping. Clearing his throat, Kendall swallowed hard.

“They are still one of the most prominent computer manufacturers of all-” you took him in your mouth, as far as you could go, all at once. “Fuck, baby, so good-” You began to pull away, but Kendall stuttered as he continued. “I mean, uh, most- uh, the most prominent computer manufacturers of all time.”

You might have laughed, if it weren’t the fact you had his cock down your throat. Kendall kept talking, going into some analysis of their recent business endeavors, but you weren’t really listening to that anymore. Instead, you hollowed your cheeks and took him even deeper, working up a steady rhythm.

There was some sort of power in it all that you found more arousing than you’d been expecting. He was so desperate for it he would do anything, which meant he had to keep reading off of cards about possibly the most unsexy topic you’d ever heard. What he really wanted to do was tangle both hands in your hair and fuck your face, but you wouldn’t allow it. Instead, you relished every tiny gasp, whimper, tremble in his voice as he fought to finish the presentation.

His cock twitched in your mouth when you swirled your tongue around the tip, slowly, steadily working the rest of him with one of your hands, the opposite squeezing and cupping his balls. There was a slight press forward of his hips, you could tell it wasn’t intentional, he was struggling to hold back, to control himself. But he kept going.

“In conclu-” Kendall began, and you took him so deep you gagged, throat tightening. “Fuck, I can’t- you’ve got me so close,” you were surprised at his tone of voice, no longer deep and confident, now breathless and whiny, choked out around a moan. “Please, let me come.”

“You’re almost done Ken,” you didn’t stop working him with your hand. “Be a good boy for me, won’t you?”

His hazel irises had nearly disappeared, eclipsed by the dark of his blown-out pupils, eyes half closed. “Okay, okay.”

Truth be told, you’d gotten yourself so worked up just listening to how he responded to you, you wanted this just as badly as he did. At least you were both on the same page.

The last few sentences tumbled from his lips, strung together within stuttered breaths, barely intelligible. And you learned absolutely nothing from the presentation, except maybe a few more ways in which he liked being pleasured. When he finished speaking, you didn’t stop.

Instead, the cards he’d been reading off of fluttered delicately around you, landing like snowflakes around your knees, at his feet. Kendall let out a pained sound of relief, his hands met the back of your head and weaved into your hair, guiding your mouth purposefully up and down the length of him.

“Just like that, please,” he panted, a pathetic mess, and your own arousal that had begun to build some time ago clouded your vision, pooled between your thighs. At this point, you were praying he’d be able to take care of you later, because you’d never thought giving someone a blowjob would have you so worked up. But you didn’t dare think to stop, as you were trying to savor the pitiful noises Kendall was making.

When he finally came, his hoarse cries were intermingled with the sound of your name. His cock throbbed, finding his release down your throat, which worked thrice to swallow him down. It was him who pulled you away, and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and looked up at him, where his chest heaved and his eyes glimmered.

“That was…fuck that was so good,” he said, pulling you to your feet. Your lips met briefly as he cupped your chin with his hand. “You’re just fucking unbelievable, you know that?”

You giggled, letting him kiss you again, his arm wrapping sturdily around your waist and maneuvering you towards the bed, where you surrendered to him, letting him lay you down against the pillows and lazily drag his lips along your neck.

“Did you bring anything to study?” he asked. In his touch there was no urgency, no destination, but you relished in the feeling of his body pressed against yours, his fingertips grazing over various parts of you absentmindedly. You were on fire.

“Uh, no,” you said softly, and he paused to look at you.

“What?”

“Well,” you shrugged. “I kind of figured…if I came over, we wouldn’t actually study, so I already did all my homework.”

“Right.” Kendall rolled his eyes, incredulous. “Uh-huh. You little brat.””

“No!” you held up your arms to defend yourself, to no avail, as he began to tickle you again, much more aggressively than the first time. Ragged breaths sucked between your teeth as you laughed uncontrollably. “Please! Please.”

Kendall managed to pin your hands above his head, leaving you very exposed beneath him. “Fine. But you’re going to pay for this, you understand?”

Using the only appendages available, you wrapped your legs around his waist. “Of course I understand.”

Kendall smirked, eyes clouding over with lust again as he leaned in to kiss you. “Good.”

[peninkwrites]

mafia au you say?

I made a moodboard for this au idea before posting anything about the au, so here's the gist!

OKAY.

So. Two sections of sorts. The Before Times and the Now. With an eight year gap in between. The factions have changed over that time. Before times, the majority of the city was occupied by the Arctic Empire led by the Crowfather, but when a rookie cop, Dream, commits himself to a war on organized crime (for reasons unknown) once an attempt is made on the Crowfather's son's life, Phil breaks down, takes his kid and his ally Technoblade, and flees. In that power vacuum left behind, Schlatt takes over with ruthless abandon. The Before Times have a few character focused prequel fics at present, but I'll have more plot stuff for it later!

(I'll put my shitty maps in here too for reference) (Yes I called the region under government control pig land. ACAB and all that.)

So at the beginning of the fic, the Empire has been divided up between Schlatt and the Badlands, with a lot of violence over some turf in the middle, but the real prize is West of the river, a much more upper class part of town which the cops keep careful control over. The arrows indicate borders shifting/where each group hopes to expand. The only other party of relevance is Puffy, who has a small strip along the docks from a deal with the Badlands, she is the one who runs all the drugs and booze in the city (city is in a prohibition type beat) after she quit the force.

The plot will start out with a few bangs, people going missing and dying and meeting and betraying each other, fun stuff like that, but I don't want to spoil anything so I'll talk characters instead– some of them will be important enough to have stuff from their pov, especially earlier on the list, but I don't know for sure yet who I'll focus on!

Tubbo: Just turned 18. Son of a mob boss. (Schlatt. I am sorry.) He's a ruthless little genius, but he hates the way things are run right now. His dad has put Tubbo and everyone he cares about in danger. Schlatt has made enemies, behaved recklessly, but it's Tubbo who will be left to pick up the pieces and try to keep everyone safe. The moment he can, he's going to change things for the better and strike down anyone who gets in his way. His friends include Tommy, the proud street rat, Niki and Ranboo, sister and brother who run a bakery/speakeasy together, and tentatively Schlatt's lawyer Quackity (they're foxhole buddies. friendship means survival)

Quackity: Schlatt's lawyer. Has an... interesting relationship with the guy (ew) but he's got a Plan. He's gonna get the fuck out of there and start up a casino with his boyfriend Karl (who sells counterfeit watches lol I had to) but you can't just up and leave the mob. So he's keeping his cards close to his chest for now, and when he sees an opportunity, he'll get out. He'd never admit it, but part of why he's sticking around is because he won't leave Tubbo alone with that piece of shit.

Sapnap: Grew up in the mob life because his father, BBH, led the Badlands, but left it the moment he turned 18 because he didn't want to live a life of crime. He wanted to help people, so he became a cop (please laugh. laughter is appropriate. Sapnap starts out wearing clown shoes.) it ended messy with his dad, as he basically completely cut him off. He joined the police academy with his best friend Dream and never looked back. (he joined eight years before around the same time everything changed.) Karlnapity is endgame.

Sam: Used to be a top dog in the Badlands before he pussied out– I mean had a moral crisis. Police captain after Puffy went awol. very canon-esque. Strong moral compass, but also such a fucking idiot. He lives on the nicer side of town with his boyfriend Ponk. Who works at Eret's museum and volunteers in the evening to give medical care to the homeless (aww isn't that sweet)

Ponk: Ponk is a fence who runs their operations out of Eret's basement. They're also Schlatt's doctor and sneak over there after dark to try and keep the stupid bastard alive. But they want out. They're tired of lying to Sam and working for someone they find morally reprehensible. So they make a deal with the Badlands– if they give them a way to get into the police station without breaking in/getting caught, the Badlands will protect them from Schlatt when they leave. So they steal Sam's keys (police files? haven't decided yet). One more job, then they go straight. For Sam. They're well liked across borders, but will that be enough to keep them safe?

Wilbur: Son of the Crowfather. Grew up in the city alongside the Empire kids, kids Phil took in, Fundy, Jack, Niki, Ranboo, along with a less close... rivalry? friendship? with the Badland's kid Sapnap. Then all of the sudden things got bad and when he was 18 or 19 his dad took him and ran, leaving all of his friends behind. (The other Empire kids were safe, they had no known affiliation with the Arctic Empire, Fundy squared away to become an accountant, Jack had already sort of separated him from the empire and had a job at a hotel, and Niki had her bakery to support herself and Ranboo.). Wilbur, going firmly against everything his father taught him, wanted to return to the city a new man, a musician who was down for a scheme or two, but definitely not the son of a mob boss. His first night back he runs into two people: his old friend Sapnap, who has degraded himself into working for the man, and Tommy. This annoying random kid who was kind enough to help him find Niki's speakeasy– The Secret City.

Tommy: street rat. refuses to tie himself down to an organization and heavily frowns upon it, tolerating Tubbo's family ties, but refusing to join anyone. He likes the freedom of it all, even if it gets lonely at times. He used to work with his buddy Eryn, the two of them planning pickpocketing hits and breaking into hotel rooms to sleep for the night, until Eryn decided he wanted to be a part of something more and joined up with the Badlands. He still spends most nights breaking into hotel rooms, his favorite being one which belongs to Jack Manifold, who hates his guts but also has never been able to catch him until he's already sneaking down the fire escape. 17 at the start of the fic. Helps this stupid tall fuck with a guitar find Niki's place because he's just ASKING to get mugged. Has no idea they'll one day consider each other brothers.

(the rest are more minor characters but boy do i have a lot for them lol)

Puffy: Basically in the Before Times she was the police captain that trained Sapnap and Dream when they were rookies. Her son Foolish is taken hostage, because ofc the mob want the police captain in their pocket, but she doesn't know who took him. The rest of the department/higher ups basically go "ya we can't do anything until they make demands good luck lol" so she goes. Okay. Fuck you guys. And takes her and her two little rookies to go look for him. The Arctic Empire are the most powerful players on the board at the time, but it's not them. The Badlands offer to help Puffy get her son back if she agrees to come work for them. She does. The police force basically were gonna leave Foolish to die. First she plays both sides, keeping an eye on Sapnap for Bad, undermining the police force, but Quackity the lawyer owes her a favor and helps her retire peacefully when the pigs start to catch on. She works for the Badlands for a few years, becomes a drug lord, starts her own little empire. Becomes the Godfather. (get it. bc Foolish is her son. the Godfather.)

Dream: A driven little bastard. In the before times, he and Sapnap joined the academy together. For reasons I will not yet explain, Dream makes it his one fucking mission to get all organized crime out of their city. He's ruthless. He's not committed to justice, he's committed to victory, damn whoever gets caught in the crossfire. He is supposed to play a major role as a villain, but I might make his whole deal more off-screen/reduced if I can.

Badboyhalo: was the second most powerful mob boss in the Empire days. Proud of his work, until his son left the family and basically went "you're dead to me." Bad had a crisis of faith. He cares about his family more than he does power, so he gives up some of his territory to Puffy, and asks Skeppy to run things for him. He's going to open up a diner (with a hint of money laundering ofc) and live a Normal Life in the hopes that one day Sapnap will come back to him. His peaceful retirement is an illusion. He could return to his former glory on a whim, but he'll wait for Sapnap for now.

Phil and Technoblade: Not too much to say here, they won't be active for the majority of the story, but Philza is The Crowfather. Insanely powerful. Even after he left the city to take over another one, he left behind some of his Crows to keep on eye on things (crows are people/spies, not birds lol) and Technoblade. He is Phil's enforcer and his right hand. He wears a pig skull mask because he's a notorious cop killer.

Eret: RICH. Runs the museum. Partially blind. Gives off an aura of being naively above all of the crime running rampant in the city. But she knows Everything. She is fiercely protective of her staff, which includes Ponk, museum curator, HBomb, her chauffeur/general guide, Fundy who runs the museum finances (aw an accountant just like his mom), and Foolish who has no idea what he's doing but Eret hired him as a favor to his dad Puffy.

Eryn: Was a street rat running around with Tommy, left him for a few years to go sailing with a crew as a little cabin boy. Came back with some cool scars and stories, tried to work with Tommy again but found he still wanted to be a part of a 'crew' of some sort, so he joined the Badlands. Now a spy with... let's say limited loyalties. (Tommy will always come first, but other than that...)

Niki: runs a bakery which is mostly a front for her speakeasy. Ranboo isn't really her brother, but she looked after him when she was alone on the streets until Philza took them under his wing. She just wants to make bread and a safe haven, but her speakeasy is right in the middle of highly fought over territory. She's used to being threatened or bullied by idiots trying to claim her fucking business. She doesn't blame Tubbo for his father's bullshit when he comes to collect dues, but she will keep this place running or burn down the city with it. Her speakeasy is open to everyone. No conflict, no sides, no guns allowed.

Ranboo: he's just a shy little dude. Didn't ask to be involved in this shit, but when one of your best friends ends up being the son of a mob boss you gotta roll with the punches. He's got a scar and a not-so-mysterious backstory.

Skeppy: this man is terrifying. A force to be reckoned with. When Bad stepped down, he stepped up. Has a soft spot for Bad and Bad alone, even if he doesn't understand him giving up everything for his son, he wants to help him and has the power to do so. (until, on the night of the first chapter, he mysteriously goes missing...)

Foolish: Found trouble in his youth, violent troublemaker in his early teens, but his dad is super protective of him from that one time he got kidnapped when he was like 14. He's a bit clueless about how the every day world works as he went from an absent father to basically being bubble-wrapped 24/7, so he starts working at Eret's place. He's buddies with Ponk and Eret, loves his job at the museum, not very good at it yet. Has a slight propensity for violence that his dad has made him outgrow, but will protect his friends.

Jack: Runs a hotel. Former Empire kid. Will lose his mind (he's moments away from Snapping) and end up helping Tubbo with his whole deal. Cares a lot about his friends. Sometimes wants to strangle Tommy.

That's all I can think of off the top of my head! And this was me trying to avoid spoilers lmao.

If you managed to read all this, thank you!!! I am always happy to talk about this au and maybe even some sneaky plot stuff but right now nothing is written yet! I am trying to figure out how I'm going to write it, I might write a bunch of fics each centered around different characters, but chapter titles with correspond to where in the timeline it takes place. Something like that, bc I don't think I can make this into one huge fic, and if folks are interested in a specific character/storyline, they can pick and choose what they read!

But again, i already have many wip I am in the middle of. But god does this au tempt me.

***UPDATE***

Part 1 of the series is now posted!

[stylistiquements]

Day 9 : Scronch'love.

𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist}

𐐪𐑂 Summary : a lovely afternoon and an ancestral question; when are you going to join the dream smp?

𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.5k

𐐪𐑂 Warning : swearing

Masterlist | Previous | Next

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

“Have you been here for a long time?”

“Have you been here for a long time?”

“Have you been here for a long time?”

Time bends and twists into unknowns shapes when well spent. So, you’re so not sure. Long enough for your fairy garden to start looking like at least a proper garden, long enough for your feet to start fidgeting, brushing against the soft fabric of the blanket ever so slightly and softly.

“Can you share your screen?”

“I’m just picking flowers, there’s nothing much to see,” you warn but it never does the proper job.

“That’s fine, I like watching you play.”

“Oh, do you now?”

“Yeah. You’ve been playing for years and you’re still dog water. It's almost soothing,” you hear him grin through the silkiness of his voice.

You smile evasively, palm gripping the mouse and executing on memory. Soon, Sapnap’s satisfied noises hovers and everything is just how it’s supposed to be. You spend a while humming the music of days and nights of the game while building your project. Sap helps from time to time, giving advice when his attention is there and leaving trails of compliments on his way. You don’t think the garden is necessarily that good, you don’t mind either.

“Do you think the tree should go on the left or the right of the pond?” You ask, fingers drumming back and forth between the two options. Right he says. "What about the roses, do I plant some or not?"

“It’s just a detail, don’t hurt your brain too much on that,” he says in a light tone, but you disagree.

“Details are what make things important. Like when you remember I prefer warm pillows so you give me yours, it’s just a detail but it makes me happy.”

“Of course I do; you’re a baby,” he murmurs teasingly.

With an arched eyebrow, you retort, “says you,” and silence follows for a second as you plant the tree on the right of the pond.

“Yeah, Dream already made sure I was aware of that.”

“Not sure why the piss baby thinks he’s qualified to have this conversation, buddy,” you note and Sap chuckles are as vivid as contagious. “Why would he call you a baby anyway? What have you done?”

“I-I’m not telling you.” As soon as the mumbles fades, your phone sends loud vibrations on your desk. You abandon your character to the night and the wildness, picking the phone as you murmur a low oh, okay. Whether it’s to your phone or Sapnap, that, isn’t really clear. Still, Sapnap’s words sound more distant, more of what wonders are made of. On the screen, a twitter notification of a certain Karl Jacobs.

“You’re not even listening to me anymore,” Sapnap whines.

“I don’t listen to whiny babies, sorry.”

“We’re on the verge of divorce, yn and it’s your fault.”

A scoff skitters out through teasing lips, “But you still talk about me all the time, don’t you?” Your voice drags through different lands, unknown and musky.

“So what?” He splutters all awkward like it’s some kind of confidence that shouldn’t have left his thoughts and, somehow, you’re surprised the almighty confidence has left the game. “Who said that?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re obsessed with me, admit it,” you demand and though you don’t notice it, too tangled with the moment, the atmosphere is tinted with a different nuance like it’s suddenly dawn at the end of a summer party.

“So are you.”

Now, your heart drums a strange yet familiar rhythm. Something made of secrets and uncertainty, something you decided to leave unnamed a long time ago. Sapnap, you reason, can’t be lied to. He knows better than words half meant, half made up and it’s annoying, really, but he just does somehow. If you dare to lie, he would know and then it would be even more annoying.

“Yeah, you’re living in my head rent free but at least I’m not trying to hide it.” No answer. You peek at the game, you’ve been slain by a spider. “Karl said that,” you resign yourself. “He said he was about to join the vc by the way.”

Before the conversation can carry on, the sound of Karl joining the call resonates. Being in this Discord server is like living in a house with 10 siblings, that’s what you understand from the way Sap exhales heavily.

“Oh, I am interrupting something?” Karl says, struck by a peculiar energy.

“Besties time Karl, besties time,” Sapnap mumbles beneath his breath and it chimes a little like disappointment.

“Well, too bad I guess,” Karl exclaims. “It's about time I meet miss Bunnyshow.”

Karl is like that gif of a cat sitting in a tiny box with the caption “if it fits, I sit”.

“Does that mean our passive aggressive subweet arc is over?” You ask, faking the dejection when your smile grows wide.

“Oh god, I hope not. That’s my favorite part of the day.”

"It means a lot to me. Especially coming from my comfort streamer Karl Jacobs," you confess.

Satisfied, your attention gets back on the game; flowers rooting gracefully into the dirt and hives ready to host the beloved honey bugs as Karl and Sap catch up on time being apart. Everything is quiet and peaceful like the end of an afternoon well spent.

“I like your garden,” Karl points out and you hum a thank you beneath your breath.

“So you can take Karl’s compliments but not mine.”

“We’re besties you’re honor. Sapnap you can leave now, thank you,” Karl giggles and you follow along.

“Sorry Karl, there’s only room for one man in my heart and that has to be Sapnap.”

He fakes a cry to keep the theatrics before adding without transitions, “You know if you asked Dream he’d probably let you on the SMP.”

“No thanks,” you grin.

“Sapnap, your girl doesn’t want to play with us.”

“She’s already been whitelisted for months now,” Sapnap informs but fails to comment on the first part of the complaint.

He’s not lying, but you feel like it says more about Dream’s stubbornness than it says about you. As for your best friend, he understands better than anyone that wish for privacy and it’s something made of respect like yours for his career. You’d rather see him shaped by all the light than being touched by a glimpse of it. He does, after all, deserves it all. So, that’s the contract you made with yourself because it made sense; being a supportive shadow. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that you’ve never considered streaming before. It’s that it’s his world more than yours.

Karl, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to think the same way, “This is unacceptable, I gotta send a few texts.”

“Lost cause, dude, lost cause,” you grin but stubbornness seems to be a pre required trait for those mcyts.

Before you have time to find a suitable comment about the newborn group chat, a new person joins the call and Sapnap's annoyance is even more palpable, "No fucking way dude. We can't even have a second of peace on this server."

"Why would you be in a discord call if you want peace. You're just dumb," Quackity retorts with an energy he and he only can ever own.

Then George joins and Dream follows on his heels and soon your ears are filled with conversations that are as loud as scattered. Your shoulders sink in the back of your chair as soft fingers try to brush the upcoming migraine away. This is why you can't join the SMP; -not really but still- too much energy that has to be processed at all time. And you should know better, being friend with a very chaotic boy for the last 15 years, but you're not somehow.

"No, fuck that," Sapnap mutters. "I'm out."

"You can't leave now we have things to discuss," George exclaims. "Bunny, explain to me how Sapnap's proposition is more appealing than mine."

"Because I know her more than you do," he defends, and he's right. Money isn't of you interest. Love, on the other hand...

"Because she's like scronch'love," Karl giggles mindlessly.

"The fuck does scronch'love mean?" You ask, amused.

"It's very simple," Quackity intervenes. "If I offered you the same thing, would you even consider it?"

"Of course I would. What kind of question is that?"

"Fine. So, if Sapnap keeps his offer, here is mine; you become the president of Las Nevadas in addition to what he said."

"What?" Sapnap takes offense.

The call brims with an agitated confusion as you smile deviously, heels rooted into the floor to make your chair spin lightly and your fingers drum on your desk.

"I don't think you wanna do that," George corrects.

"Yeah, you absolutely don't," you confirm.

"Fine," he retorts. "So Sapnap's offer plus a Las Nevadas citizenship. How does that sound?"

"Like an offer I'll confider," you sigh. "So who's scronch'love now?"

"Still you," Dream answers. "Except you're also a big dummy."

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

A/N : helloooo,, how are you??? this part very self indulgent and I think this fic will be in general but I hope you liked it anyway. I love the idea of c!quackity always being too much and always having something to add to be even more over the top. I'm having more trouble than I thought about Bunny's and Sap's friendship because I want them to have a very special friendship but I hope it appears as such. idk. lmk what you think and thank you for reading it it makes me very happy <3 Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

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[angelkurenai]

Heaven on Earth - Dean Winchester x Reader (French Mistake/Soulmates AU)

Title: Heaven on Earth

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 4,221

Warnings: Spoilers for 15x20 I guess

Prompt: Hey! I love your fics a lot. Especially the French mistake trope ones! I was wondering if you're taking requests cuz if you are I would so love a soulmate french mistake one for the finale.. had been something how you'd give it your own take. If not, it's totally okay I love your work regardless! <3

Imagine instead of dying and going to heaven, Dean is brought back to life by Jack who choses to give Dean the ending he deserves. An ending which he had been hoping to live through but never got the chance. An ending, a life, where he gets to meet his soulmate, you, whose name is written on his wrist and whom he never got to meet simply because you weren’t in the same universe. 

“Huh?” Dean breathed out and blinked several times, letting his eyes adjust to the change of scenery that came a little bit as a shock for all the different kind of reasons than anyone else would expect “Looks like I finally made it. Who would've thought?”

He let an easy smile rest on his lips as he took the scene around him, unfamiliar as it was there was still a great deal of hospitality that made his so comfortable in this lovely tiny living room. It wasn't familiar in any way that meant that he had seen it before but it was something he could very easily get used to, a place to love and call home. So much so that he had to ignore the pang in his chest when he remembered that he couldn't get to show it to his brother, not anytime soon that is. It was something that he would have to accept, no matter how hard it proved to be.

“Weird.” he mumbled, approaching a window and looking outside, the city although again not familiar, looking as calm and normal as it could be “I don't remember this one.”

The change of scenery while, yes, expected after one's death – and Dean was no stranger to the concept – did make him frown at what he was really coming face to face with. “Did they change things around here?”

He asked practically at nobody but that didn't mean that he wouldn't receive an answer “Well, to be fair I do think that chair was by the other side of the room. And those books, she must have moved them too.”

“Son of a-” Dean jumped in surprise and soon pressed his fist against his mouth to stop himself from continuing that sentence. Before he even had the chance to wonder if it was even right to swear in a place like this, all words died out in his lips when he turned to face the person that spoke up.

“Jack?” he whispered, almost in disbelief; his eyes widening.

“He-hello-” a small huff left Jack's lips when Dean closed the distance and enveloped the boy in a hug which he returned “Hello Dean, it's good to see you again. Though I don't believe it has been that long.”

“Yeah” Dean laughed “Way to rub it in my face how I fucked it up so soon huh?”

“You never... I never said you did, Dean.” Jack frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side “You've done great. You have done so in fact your entire life, even when it was exceptionally hard, even when other men would have given up. You kept going. And, yes, it might have been rather painful sometimes and exhausting and seemed never-ending, but it did. It ended. And this is what you get, this is your ending Dean. Peace. I-” Jack paused, looking around “I wanted to do some things differently but it is not all up to me, there are rules to the universe and how it works. Balance you see. So, I'm... sorry that Sam can't be here, not yet at least.”

“Alright kid, don't make me tear up already, will ya?” he joked but looked away when he felt the pang in his chest again. Heaven or no heaven, he was dead and Sam was alone. Miracle too. And oh that still hurt and it would hurt for a long while.

He cleared his throat and spoke up again, instead “Ah yeah, pretty much got that. But no, no Jack you've- you've done more than just enough. Not that there are a lot of options for the other side, but given everything this is really the best one so- thank you. This- this is good. Real good.” Dean looked at his friend, trying to convey as much of his gratitude as possible. For what he didn't know where to begin with, especially after everything that Jack had done but maybe more than anything it was about how Sam wasn't there with him. Not yet, and hopefully not before he'd lived a full and happy life.

“You're welcome. You deserve it.” Jack shrugged once more, smile bright on his face.

“So you uh you stayin' or will you be gone soon? This place is kind of... strange to me, but I'm sure there must be a kitchen somewhere. Could get you something?” he suggested, already making his way around the place while trying to figure out where the kitchen was. It was a small apartment though so it didn't take long for him to figure it out; Jack closely following along.

“Uhm no I won't be staying long, I just wanted to come and see if you're all settled, if you've rested and all that.” he shrugged softly.

“Well, I'm more or less dead, so hey-” he actually found himself chuckling and ignoring the frown that set on Jack's face “Can't get any more rest than that, right?” he opened the fridge and started looking for a beer, speaking again before Jack had the chance to do so and voice his concerns “So uh, love what you did with the place. What was it really again?” he pointed to the living room's direction as he closed the fridge, setting the pie and a beer in front of him.

“Oh uh-” Jack blinked, looking towards the living room “I told you, it wasn't really me. (Y/n). She must have moved around some of the furniture. I'm pretty sure the books too.”

He tried not to let it show. He prayed that it didn't show. He knew that that Jack wouldn't question it, but that didn't mean that it wasn't there. That it didn't happened. That his heart didn't do that same crazy jump and his hand, if not his entire being, shook at the mention of the name. Jack didn't even blink and as he brought the beer to his suddenly dry lips he thought that maybe he'd gotten the hang of it after practically a lifetime. A lifetime without a soulmate that is. And the thought slipped in his mind like it always did and he bit the inside of his cheek to get himself under control. Jack didn't know and Dean was far from in the mood to talk about another, if not the most, painful chapter of his life. Maybe... hopefully he had gotten better with the years and none of it showed.

“No uh that's not exactly what I meant, buddy. But never mind.” he could feel his throat closing, his body betraying him with that same unbearable grief only an empty side of the bed could bring, so he made sure to speak up before it got the best of him the way it usually did “You creating angels now too?”

“Angels?” Jack frowned before he shook his head, clearly confused “No, I- Not yet. But... (Y/n) is not an angel. She's human.” another soft shrug.

And there was the name again, for the second time in less than a minute. Too much too soon for Dean to take. He found himself sitting in one of the two only chairs in the kitchen. His hand found its way to his wrist, subconsciously rubbing over the ink that covered his skin ever since he was a teen. Maybe it brought some kind of comfort, got him the chance to feel like you were close by and offering him comfort yourself when in reality all he had was your name and, thank heavens, no line over it. He didn't know how he'd get to deal with the fact if he was ever to see a line. He was thankful that at least up until the moment he died the words were there, solid and beautifully curved to form your name, until the very last moment he was able to feel their warmth. Up until it all was enveloped in darkness. His life had not had many advantages or comforts, but knowing that you were safe (even if far away from him) was more than enough to make up for all of it.

Though that thought now brought about another storm of dangerous, if not painful, ideas. Ideas about how you were going to deal with his death. Dean was and would always be weak about you, even if he'd never met you. He didn't know how he'd take it and now he had to consider, think and imagine how you'd deal with a line over his name on your wrist.

The mere thought made his heart twist painfully in his chest quiet similar but also so different to any other time. To hurt you was the last thing he'd ever want. And knowing that he had inevitably caused that, well, it would make resting ten times more hard.

“Humans making changes around heaven, wow. Jack you're really stepped up your game up here.” he went for nonchalant and hoped it worked.

“Humans...” Jack narrowed his eyes with a tilt of his head before it seemed to dawn on him and his eyes widened softly “Dean... you're right, there have been changes in heaven. I felt like it was time to move on, that it was time for things to be done different by someone who cares. By someone who wouldn't abandon it all and not care to listen. It's exactly why I asked for Castiel's help, anyway.” the name caught the hunter's attention and he did pause to frown but Jack didn't stop his words, he kept talking “We changed things so that heaven wouldn't about reliving your favorite memory. It would be simply about living. Living on forever and about to make new memories.”

“So that's what it was huh? And here I wondered when-”

“B-But this is not about any of it! That's what you don't get.” Jack said fast enough, cutting Dean off who blinked in surprise.

“Do I have to ask what it is or will you just go off rambling again? You seem to be on a roll today.” he took a sip of his beer, his lips pulling into a smile that he could barely feel in all honesty.

Just following along some very familiar, painfully familiar, steps. Making small talk about anything and everything that his mind could come up with, was one of them. Anything as long as his treacherous heart stopped with the painful beats. But the echo of your name in his head didn't seem to want to die out and he had to try harder.

That is if Jack didn't-

“It's simple.” he smiled sweetly “(Y/n).”

“A-Alright-” his voice shook and he hated himself for letting it show, but he was a weak man deep down and there was only so much he could take “Listen buddy. I don't know what's happened with you or who this-” he choked on his words.

Oh dear, he choked on his words. That had not happened to him in years, and yet here he was. Unable to say the name of the soulmate he had never met. Unable to say the name of the woman whom he dreamed about every night, coming up with you'd look like, what you'd be like in and out. He choked because while it has been a long time, he could still not fight the longing or ache in his soul whenever h heard the name. And best, or maybe worst, of all is that he couldn't fight the hope that rose in his chest. So many cases, so many places visited and whenever he heard that name he both prayed and feared it was you.

So many times he got his hopes up. And so many times all those hopes turned into mere dust, slipping through his fingers. Each time more painful than the previous. Leading, ultimately, to a life without you.

Really, he could only take so much after hearing your name so many times in only a few seconds. He just couldn't do it to himself, couldn't bring himself to say it. He took a deep breath in and clenched his fists “I don't know who that chick is, or what you've really trying to do here. I'm just thankful for everything you've done because this-” he looked around him with a fond smile “This place is more than good for him. It is, both literally and figuratively, heaven.”

“Well, that's just it.” Jack tilted his head to the side “This... is not heaven.”

“Oh yeah? Well, it sure as heck doesn't seem like hell either. Unless they did some general uh renovations?” he asked, almost playfully, as he looked around with a nod of his head “Oh yes, lovely color on that wall right there. Goes well with the-”

“(Y/n) picked it.” Jack shrugged, the name effectively managing to close Dean's mouth shut - and he almost glared at the boy for thinking that he could be doing it on purpose at this point “And this-” he turned back to Dean, face still serious “Is not hell either.”

Oh really now? Then, it does seem like pur-

“No, Dean.” Jack said firmly, cutting him off “You- you're not dead.”

“Uh you sure about that buddy? Cause I think I can remember pretty vividly that I got impaled. Like, Olaf from Frozen style and all.” Dean scoffed a small laugh, taking a sip of the beer. And boy, was he dead, but that still tasted good enough.

“Well, yes but actually no. See, you were on the brink of death but that doesn't mean you have really died. I saw it. I saw it all, I was there and kept you alive or, well, almost-dead long enough for Sam to... give you a hunter's funeral and then for me to put you back together, to heal every would and bring you here.” a smile slowly spread on his lips “This other world. To live in. To make new memories as I told you.”

“What- What's that supposed to mean?” Dean's voice got more gruff as realization start to dawn on him that Jack was very much serious about all of it “And, anyway, didn't destroy every other world there was?”

“When I brought everyone back on your world, I- I was able to do the same with every other world he had destroyed. Including this one. Dean, I mean-” he laughed softly “Did you really think, that after everything you'd been through, after everything you'd given for that world, after all the people you'd saved that I- I would just be another version of Chuck that let that be your ending? You deserve this. You deserve to live this life, a life where you have all you really want. I mean Sam is not here, sure, but soon I hope I will be able to come here too.

“Hold up. You really mean to say that I- I'm- I'm alive?” Dean frowned deeply when Jack nodded “Then wh-what the hell am I doing here? Why the fuck am I not back home? What kind of shitty game-”

“Because you can't. It's- It disrupts balance. Anything hat dies must stay dead, that's a rule that has been broken too many times and we couldn't bear it anymore. However, here-” he looked around him with a smile “You can be alive. And you can live a long, happy life. Without regrets.”

At this point Dean had every reason to think the kid was doing it on purpose. First mentioning your name so often and now, now this was not just pouring alcohol into an open would but rather tearing it open even more. Because yes, he had many regrets in life. Far more than he could ever count. Some of them he was or could get to overcome easily so. But his biggest ones? The ones related to you would always be there, though, and they would always haunt him worse than his nightmares.

“Why here then? What does this world have that I could possibly want so much as to-”

But before Dean could ever get to complete his sentence, let alone get a reply - one that wouldn't really cause him a heart attack - the door burst open with a loud thud. Dean jumped in his place, a frown on his face and worry starting to slip into his very own bones when Jack rose from his seat with a smile. But before he could even bring himself to question it, he moved away from his seat and made his way to the door with only a few long strides. Only to be met with the sight of one too many bags from the market, filled to the brim with food and other essentials, and the sound of an annoyed -but entirely adorable if he could say so -grumbling and cursing.

“Bloody idiots. Ignorant people. Fucking idiocy more infinite than the whole damn universe. Worse than the pandemic itself.” he saw you pull the mask you were wearing away angrily, only to look more cute in Dean's eyes and alright, a bit more than just cute because he was not dead after all and if did run into you anywhere else he would gladly try his luck, but this was far from an ideal situation, especially as you-

“No wonder Chuck would wanna snap those away. Heck wouldn't I-” but your words were cut off as a screamed ripped through your lips the second you closed the door and turned towards them, probably for the first time realizing they were there and as expected the bags you were holding fell from your hands.

“What the fuck?!” you yelped, hand pressed over your chest as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Whoa whoa it's ok, calm down. Calm down. We're not gonna hurt you. It's alright, we-”

“Calm down!? You almost gave me a freaking heart attack dude! Because when I said that I would die a happy woman if I were to meet Jensen Ackles even once after that finale, the scenario of chapter one of a bad soulmates fanfic is not what I had in mind! You- You-” you looked around after trying to take a few calming breathes “You just broke into my apartment.” you almost whispered in disbelief “Have you gone insane, man? Who the hell is 'we'?”

“Oh, right. She can't see me.” Jack told him only afterwards and Dean rolled his eyes at his friend.

“Oh great, thanks for the heads up, buddy.” he muttered to his friend. He shook his head before dragging a hand down his face. He then looked at you, finally taking a good look at you and trying not to let his confusion show at the weird flip his heart did “Listen, I'm not crazy, I swear. I'm sure this may look very confusing and hard to explain but I can assure you that once you hear me out, everything will make sense. Just- just don't scream again, yeah? Or freak out or anything.”

“Nah it's cool. I mean why would I freak out? Because the actor I, more or less, look up to and have been a fan of for years is standing in the middle of my crappy and messy living room, dressed as my favorite character on top of that. Without any previous warning or time for me to prepare. Yeah, pff-” you scoffed, waving your hand “Why would I freak out? I can be calm. It's not like this is some kind of dream coming true, anyway. I can be the definition of calm this moment. I'm not freaking out.”

“...You're freaking out.” he said after barely three seconds. Letting you take a few deep breaths of air to calm yourself down, because apparently you needed it. Even if he didn't understand why.

“I'm definitely freaking out.” you admitted, nodding at him as you pressed your lips in an adorable pout which was too distracting if he could admit so to himself after blowing out some air.

“Better now?” he asked hopefully and you held his gaze for a few seconds before shaking your head.

“Definitely not. This might take an hour or two. Or maybe a month? Just- just to let it all settle in you know? I'm dreaming, I definitely must be dreaming. You're just a dream huh? Come on, just admit it. It will be easier to accept. I mean-” you shrugged, looking away with a shrug as you mumbled, mostly to yourself “Wouldn't be the first time.”

“I'm- Sorry, what?” he asked after a few seconds. Maybe Jack was right, this was better than heaven.

“Nothing.” you shook your head fast, and in a far too adorable way “Nothing. I didn't say a thing.” you cleared your throat and looked away from him, letting out a sigh as Dean bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. Instead, let himself chuckle at your too-adorable ramble that followed “This is- this is insane. If I knew that 2020 would end with me meeting Jensen Ackles then I would have never judged its ability to pull the craziest shit on us.”

“Je- Who?” Dean blinked a couple times though, before letting out a long sight and shaking his head “Really?” he just looked straight at Jack, not caring how crazy he looked at that moment “But of all those worlds, it had to be this one? You know what buddy? Maybe I'd have rather stayed dead.”

“No you wouldn't. I know. So do you.” Jack said with a far-too-knowing smile that made Dean narrow his eyes at him.

“Yeah” you dragged the word, effectively getting his attention - not that it was that hard for you “Sure. Not crazy at all.” you chuckled.

“Not crazy, sweetheart.” he shrugged “And certainly not Jensen Ackles, sorry to disappoint.”

Oh yeah? Then if you're not Jensen who are you? Dean Winchester?” you raised an eyebrow, smile playful on your lips and far too distracting for Dean, but there was no way he would dare admit it.

Confusion passed through his eyes before his interest was peaked “Bingo. You couldn't be more right, sweetheart.”

“Aha sure.” you still chuckled, lips pulling into a smirk that he liked more than he should already “There are cameras set around here, right? Like, of course there are. Is this some kind of goodbye gift though, to the fans for the finale and what not?” you started looking around for said cameras. He momentarily got distracted by the distance that only lessened between the two of you as you moved around him.

He made sure to snap out of it though before he made too much of a fool of himself “Oh don't know what cameras you're talking about but this- it ain't that. It's more complicated than that. As in-” he shrugged “I went on a hunt with Sammy, I died, he burned the body, Jack here whom you cannot see put my back together again am guessing kinda like a human puzzle, stuffed my soul back inside and dropped my ass on your living room without a warning. So, really, it's just as much of a shock to me as it is to you.”

“So you're keeping it up huh? Alright then. I'll go along with it. I am guessing that since I am also part of this story, I should probably introduce myself hm?” you smirked and he shrugged, playful as well.

“Well, it wouldn't be bad anyway. Until you believe me, that is. And Figured I should put a name to the beautiful face.” he tried to seem casual about it but he was anything but “Dean Winchester, pleasure to meet ya. And sorry for crashing in the middle of your apartment like this.”

“Wonderful.” but instead of reaching for his extended hand to shake, you grabbed a grocery bag and handed it to him cheekily “Help me place all these stuff in their place and I might just forgive you.” you shrugged grabbing some of the bags and making your way to the kitchen, only to pause when you realized he wasn't following “What? Saving people, hunting things, the family business, ain't it? Well, there is no monster here to hunt but oh could I use some saving from the terribly exhausting job of cleaning these.”

“You- for real?” he gaped at you in disbelief.

“Hmh. Couldn't be more real. Take the rest, will you?” you grinned at him and started walking towards the kitchen again, leaving him to stare after you and maybe take a few seconds to bathe in the warmth you laughter brought to him. Dean only shook his head, laughing to himself as well before started to grab the rest of the bags, noticing how you'd left the heavier back on purpose.

But it was during moments like this, when he really felt like there would be no troubles and no more thoughts that the world pulled the most cruel kind of jokes on him. And instead of calm, his world fell apart... or in this case fell into perfect place. For the first time now, in his entire life.

“Oh and for you help, a reward is in accord. Name's (Y/n) (Y/l/n), and it is a pleasure.”

Only for Jack to add in a low voice barely three seconds later and verify each and every thought and fear and hope running through his veins in that moment.

“Because this world has the one that can give you the real heaven, on Earth. Your soulmate.”

[forestlingincorporated]

Teen Titans #29

So, one of my favorite types of fics to read is Different First Meeting fics between Jason and Tim. I looooove reading Enemies To Caretaker, of which I fed handsomely on fairly recently. Big Brother Jason fics give me warm fuzzies, and Tim Drake needs a hug, and I feel like if these two actually got to know each other and worked past their preconceptions, they’d get along surprisingly well. And Still A Jason!Robin Fanboy Tim Drake is just a fun concept. 

Also, it just FEELS right for the middle siblings to band together after Damian comes along, lets get those abandonment issues in the party. 

So, for mysterious and very secret TimKon Week 2021 reasons, I was rereading some Teen Titans, and I stumbled over the Original Tim+Jason First Meeting, and I just sort of wanted to talk about some interesting things I found in there rereading it after several years. 

First thing right off the bat, when reading fics, normally it’s either the Core Four at the tower that Jason puts to sleep, or it’s Tim alone for the night. In the comic, none of Tim’s close friends are even at the tower, Jason waits for Bart and Cassie to leave, and Conner actually hasn’t come around for an in-universe month, because this is after the Superboy’s Birthright arc where Lex mind controls Conner. 

The people Jason knocks out were his own teammates when he was a Titan. He specifically says he never got to work with Beast Boy or Cyborg directly, so he doesn’t feel bad electrocuting them, but he feels bad putting Raven under much more gently because she used to worry for him. 

Tim has just gotten off the phone with Bruce when Jason shows up. It seems like Bruce might’ve been picking Tim up, but something’s come up with Martian Manhunter going missing, so Tim tells him he’ll catch a ride with Cyborg. 

This is actually really interesting to me, because it’s a small moment of Bruce letting Tim down. It’s a conversation he’s probably had with his biological father many times when Jack’s canceled on him. 

Gonna acknowledge this abomination real quick. This is So Stupid, and I’m glad as a fandom we just all agreed Jason didn’t do this. It makes me ask so many questions. Where did he get that oversized Robin costume? Why’d he tear off his perfectly good clothes? Why did he do this? Why the yellow tights? WHY? 

A lot of things are actually happening here that are actually Really Interesting if you just look past the stupid fucking outfit. Because this comic actually flew really close to greatness, they just ended up dropping the ball by not continuing to do more with it. 

First off, Jason doesn’t beat around the bush. He’s immediately like “yeah, yeah, yeah, Red Hood, whatever, I’m Jason Todd, bitch! Fight me.” 

Secondly, Jason’s done his homework. He knows A LOT about Tim. He knows his name, he knows he has a dad, he knows he went to prep school, and he knows the story of how Tim became Robin. How he GOT that last bit of information, I’d honestly like to know. But even HAVING the information isn’t enough; he’s still letting his preconceived ideas get in the way. The surface level information about Tim’s life only served to fuel his jealousy and anger (thanks, Lazerus Pitt!). He’s so focused on Tim’s privilege that he’s looked past evidence of hardship; if he’s done this much research on Tim, he’s no doubt seen records of multiple boarding schools, lengthy travel records, news reports, a death certificate.... He can’t even bring himself to BELIEVE parts of Tim’s story that aren’t lining up with his world view, like HOW he became Robin. 

Jason has convinced himself that what he’s discovered about Tim and the period of time when Jason was dead - the fact that Bruce was spiraling after his death, that his family mourned him, that Tim had to step up to the plate at a weird suicide prevention buddy system - is all a lie. Despite the fact that he’s beating Tim’s ass, he speaks to him with the assumption that Tim’s a child who’s been manipulated and lied to. 

Meanwhile, it must be SO PAINFUL for Tim to hear Jason say these things: I bet he said the same thing to you he said to me, didn’t he? That you have the talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in his war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light in his darkness.

Bruce never said any of that to Tim. Bruce rejected Tim, he didn’t want Tim, and begrudgingly accepted Tim. 

Going back to Jason waiting for Tim’s other young teen friends to leave the tower before going in, only drugging his own former teammates, is much of his anger seems directed at THEM, not just Bruce. To Jason, it looks like they didn’t mourn him either, he has no statue. I find it interesting that he smashes Donna Troy’s statue, who died after him, and I believe she came back before he did. 

Unless he was keeping track of the news from the League of Assassins, to Jason, Donna never died. 

And most importantly? Tim shuts Jason down. Tim “Bitch, Please” Drake out here like: you’re a fucking idiot, he loved you to death, he barely let me audition for the role. 

Tim shows some deep resentment towards Jason in this scene. I mean... earned, Jason literally came into his house and starting hitting him, but Tim’s relationship towards the Idea Of Jason has gone through a few changes. At first Jason was ROBIN! THE BOY WONDER! And if maybe Tim thought Bruce wasn’t AS happy with Jason as he was with Dick, there was still SOME hero worship early on. But it only takes Bruce and Alfred and Dick using Jason’s death as a cautionary tale a few times to get Tim to see Jason AS a cautionary tale - the kind of Robin NOT to be. But the more Tim craved Bruce’s paternal attention and approval, and the more Bruce withheld it or made Tim work for it, knowing that Bruce did that, in part, because of his love and grief for his dead son (Tim having an actual living breathing father plays a part, too), and those feelings towards Jason have started to fester.

Jason can’t let it go, though, he thinks the concept of Robin was a mistake and had always been a mistake, and if he can hurt Tim, so can Scarecrow, Penguin, The Joker. 

This is a good time to bring up that one thing I think Jason probably doesn’t know is Tim is injured. It is a little over a month since since Conner shattered Tim’s right arm. Tim is still healing from a comminuted fracture in his forearm. And looking at this picture that is - ah, yes, that is the injured arm Jason is swinging Tim by. Tim is probably healed by now, the cast IS off and he’s a child, but bones don’t fully return to full strength for 3-6 months. 

Jason is conflicted. This is clearly, in part, a fucked up way of “protecting” what he sees as a manipulated child, to convince him to leave Bruce. But there’s also clearly some deep, deep jealousy thrown into the mix to complicate matters and cloud his judgement. Ultimately, Jason isn’t there to kill Tim. Tim would be dead if he was. He’s there to “beat some sense into him,” and he ultimately fails, and fails badly. 

Tim is found by the older Titans, awake by now, though it seems Jason knocked him out to, uh, fuck with the memorial chamber, and Tim... does not beat around the bush. No secret identities here just “yeah, Jason Todd beat the shit out of me.” 

And their reactions are HILARIOUS. 

One more little sidebar, in the comic, Jason gets in with a D.N.A. check that never removed him from its permissions. Usually in fic this is a unique pass code. I’m not sure which version I like better, honestly. There’s something about Jason physically inputting a code that accepts him even though he’s supposedly dead that I really like, and just feels better than a dna scan. A dna scan sounds SAFER, sure, but there’s something about the Titans leaving in an honest SECURITY RISK out of sentiment that I like. 

Lastly, I really like how it ends. Jason honestly thinks Tim IS a good Robin, and it seems like Jason’s done some research on the core four, mentioning Tim’s “real friends” again while the “camera” is on Conner and Cassie, suggesting that Jason KNOWS about them and possibly that targeting the tower while they were gone maybe wasn’t an accident or out of convenience, but fully intentional. And again, Jason’s real problem is highlighted: he feels alone, forgotten, unmemorable, no family, no friends. 

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.