#and we will yell at the missed opportunities just like we do every year for the Zodiacs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 4 months ago

Text

Trick or Treat | Bucky Barnes x Reader

This is my second Halloween fic this year because I have no self control!

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: anxiety

Sam’s Halloween bash launched into full swing, and seemed as though it would last till sunrise. Music pulsed through a set of massive speakers. Alcohol flowed. And throngs of people danced the night away.

Just as Sam instructed, everyone arrived decked out in costume. And as you scanned the crowd, you found Ghost Face doing shots with Barbie. Michael Myers grinding on Freddy Kreuger. Pennywise flirting with Beetlejuice. It was a picture perfect Halloween party- save for one thing.

Bucky hadn’t arrived yet.

All of the partygoers formed a large, pulsating mass as they danced and celebrated, but you remained off to the side. In an empty, isolated corner, you checked and rechecked your texts. You’d already shot Bucky a few messages asking when he’d show. Asking if he was alright. And he swore he was fine. He said he’d be there soon, but that was as specific as he’d get.

“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute!” Wanda yelled over the music. She swayed to the beat, swishing the skirt of her dress back and forth. Every few seconds, she stole a glance at the dance floor with want in her eyes. “Come on, let’s go dance!”

“I’m with Mary,” Nat downed the last of her drink and draped her arm over Wanda’s shoulders. “The Sanderson Sisters are the life of the party, we have a reputation to uphold!”

When the three of you decided to coordinate your costumes, Hocus Pocus had been the obvious choice. In the weeks leading up to Sam’s party, you helped one another piece together flawless renditions of each Sanderson Sister. Wanda decided on Mary, and Nat dressed up as Sarah, leaving you to adopt Winifred’s famous ensemble.

And you had to admit, the three of you looked amazing.

But you couldn’t run to the dance floor and party with abandon- not yet, anyway. Bucky said he’d be there. He swore to you that he’d make an appearance. And while a loud, overcrowded party wasn’t his favorite way to spend an evening, he knew he had to challenge himself. To expand his comfort zone.

He wanted so badly to be “normal”. To function like a “regular” person. But he struggled. He had flashbacks. Panic attacks. Long depression spirals. And his anxiety always had the reigns.

But he’d fought tooth and nail to vanquish his demons, and now that he was making progress and healing bit by bit, he wanted to join the ranks of "ordinary" society.

And Sam’s party was the perfect opportunity. It was a safe, controlled environment where Bucky could stretch his comfort zone. Sure, it was loud and packed with people, but that was the whole point. If he was going to be “normal”, he had to be okay with noise and crowds; Sam’s party had both. But there was nothing for him to worry about, nothing to fear. He would perfectly and totally safe here. At least half of the attendees were fellow special agents, and you and Sam promised to stick with him all night.

But the party started over an hour ago, and he still hadn’t shown. Worry creased your brow; it wasn’t like him to be late.

“I think I’m just gonna hang out here for now,” you leaned against the wall and brandished your phone at them, “So I can make sure I don’t miss a call or anything.”

“You do you, sister,” Nat brushed a kiss against your cheek, “Mary and I are gonna command the dance floor.”

The two of them ran off, arm in arm, in the direction of the crowd.

“Is he on his way?” Sam came around the corner, two drinks in hand. He extended one in your direction and sipped on the other. “I haven’t heard back.”

“I don’t know.” You took a long pull of your drink, “I asked if he was coming and he said yes, but he didn’t give me a specific ETA, or anything.”

Sam shrugged, “I think he might flake.”

That same sneaking suspicion had crossed your mind a few times over the last hour, but you refused to accept it. Surely, Bucky just needed a little extra time to prepare himself. To get in the right headspace.

“I’m gonna- would you take this for a sec?” You handed your drink back to Sam, who swore to keep a watchful eye on it while you stepped outside to call Bucky.

The phone rang and rang. And you feared it might go to voicemail. But at the last possible second, Bucky picked up.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Something was off. He sounded almost nervous, like he’d been caught red-handed.

“Hey, Buck.” You kept your tone light. “Are you gonna be here soon?”

A long silence permeated the line.

“Um, yes. Yeah, I’m on my way right now,” he assured you. “Shouldn’t be much longer. I’ll see you in a bit. Okay?”

“Great." You didn't buy it for a second. "See you soon.”

For an ex-assassin with decades of stealth training and countless kills on his hands, Bucky was a terrible liar. But only when it came to you. He just couldn’t deceive his best friend, couldn’t pull the wool over your eyes. He simply didn’t have it in him; his brain and body rejected even the concept of swindling you.

You knew for a fact that he was still at his apartment. Knew that his anxiety had won. You could practically see him sitting at home all alone, hating himself for flaking on yet another get-together. And while his closest friends danced the night away, he’d spend the entire evening berating himself. Chastising himself.

But you wouldn’t allow it. With a determined huff, you ditched the party, and set off in the direction of Bucky's apartment.

Bucky stared at the costume you’d carefully helped him assemble. It sat neatly folded on his kitchen table, all he had to do was put it on and head out the door. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. And it infuriated him.

He spent weeks mentally preparing himself for this. He meditated, journaled, and even sought out extra therapy sessions. But none of it worked. He was still a slave to his anxiety, bending to every whim of the monsters in his head.

The whole thing was so stupid- it was just a party. He knew, logically, that there was nothing to fear. But part of his brain, the part that hated him, told him it would be too much. That he’d immediately get overwhelmed by the noise and the people and the lights. That it was a panic attack waiting to happen.

He feared what onlookers might think, what they might say, if he broke down in the middle of the festivities. And he didn’t want to chance ruining Sam’s party.

And so, he’d lied to you. He wasn’t proud of it, but it was for the best. He just wanted you to have a good time. Wanted you to spend the night dancing with Nat and Wanda instead of worrying about him. It was better this way.

A sharp knock jolted him from his seat on the couch. He crossed to the front door and pulled it open, expecting to see a group of candy-obsessed kids in costumes. But he found something else, entirely.

“Trick or treat!” You held a bottle of whiskey and a bag of candy proudly in the air, “Happy Halloween, Buck.”

Bucky took on a deer in the headlights kind of look. He was shocked, completely frozen. And as the surprise melted away, he found himself awash in strange mix of anxiety and guilt. You’d caught him in his lie; you’d found him out. And with you standing on his doorstep, he had nowhere to run.

“Sweetheart, hey. Hi. Um, Happy- Yeah, Happy Halloween.” He tripped over himself again and again, his heart racing. “I was just about to call you and-”

“It’s okay, Buck. You’re not in trouble,” you shot him a wink. “I know parties aren’t really your thing.”

He gestured for you to come in and you happily accepted, sweeping past him in your elaborate costume. But he was so bewildered, so overwhelmed, that he left the door wide open.

“What are you doing here?” Quickly, he clarified, “Not that I don’t want you here. I just mean- why aren’t you at the party?”

“Cause I came to hang out with you!” You shrugged, “Plus, there’s no point in me going if you’re not there.”

Bucky appreciated your loyalty, your dedication to him. But he couldn’t let you sit on the sidelines with him.

“That’s sweet of you, and I’m more than happy to have you here, but I know you’ve been looking forward to the party and your costume and everything. And I don’t want to ruin your Halloween.” He leaned against his open door, “So, it won’t hurt my feelings if you-”

“My Halloween will only be ruined if we don’t hang out. So, come on,” once again, you held up the candy and alcohol, “trick or treat, Buck.”

With a stubborn smile, Bucky shut the door. He watched you struggle with the bag of candy and laughed as you used your teeth to tear through the plastic.

“You know, I think you’re doing the whole ‘trick or treat’ thing backwards,” he said as he fished a Twix out of the bag. “Cause you brought candy instead of taking some from me.”

“Or maybe I’m a Halloween pioneer, and I’m inventing new traditions,” you offered. “Now, let’s crack this open.”

Bucky gladly took the bottle of whiskey from you and led you to the kitchen. He crafted old fashioneds for the both of you and clinked his glass with yours. His night had taken a very sharp, very sudden upswing, and he was more than grateful.

“I saw some kiddos trick or treating down the hall, and at least four of them were dressed up like Sam,” you laughed. “Have they been here yet?”

You eyed the large bowl of candy sitting by the front door. It was still full, nearly overflowing with sugary treats. And you realized: it was completely untouched. No greedy little hands had dug through it yet. No mischievous kids had snatched a handful or two. It just sat there, waiting.

It was sweet of Bucky to be prepared, to buy treats for the kids in the area. He was trying so hard to connect with people. To be a member of society. He wanted so badly to be seen as a person. But the world only saw him for his past.

“Um, no, I haven’t had any trick or treaters,” Bucky said, “Well, except for you.”

You shot him a wink a took a drag of your drink.

“But I’ve heard them- they’ve been running up and down my hall all night. I just don’t think…” He clinked his metal fingers against his glass, “I don’t think any of the parents in my building want their kids knocking on my door.”

His shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly, and his head fell an inch or two. Saying it out loud was humiliating. He’d thought- he’d hoped- that the city would embrace him. That they’d celebrate his return. But the only welcome he’d received was dirty looks and people spitting at him on the subway.

Bucky’s words knocked the air from your chest. A combination of heartbreak and unbridled rage swirled inside of you; it was all so unfair. Bucky didn’t deserve to be treated like a pariah or a threat. He was least intimidating, most approachable person you’d ever met. Sure, he was a little shy. But he was so warm. So kind. He genuinely cared about people. He wanted to help his community and make people feel safe. But they refused to give him a chance.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you took his hand in yours, “More candy for us.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled you in for a long, much needed hug. He would never be able to express how much he appreciated your undying support. Your unconditional friendship. He knew without a doubt that he could always count on you. And after living in an unpredictable, erratic state of limbo for so many years, he cherished your consistency.

Bucky dug through the candy you brought, searching for a Snickers. “I know it’s selfish, but I’m really glad you came over.” He abandoned his candy hunt and brought his gaze up to yours, “Seriously. Thanks for being here.”

“Anytime, Buck. You know that.” You tucked the bag of candy under your arm and snatched your glass from the counter, “Come on, let’s watch a scary movie.”

Bucky followed your lead, only straying from the path for a moment or two. And when he returned, he brandished his overflowing bowl of candy in your direction. “I mean, if the kids aren’t gonna eat it…”

He sank into the couch next to you and took a swig of his drink as he watched you dig through the massive bowl of candy. A bit of guilt gnawed at him; he’d been so surprised to see you at his door that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate all the hard work you’d put into your costume. And as you picked through his candy stash, he drank in the details of your ensemble: the perfectly crafted make up, the ornate dress, the complicated hairstyle. It was impressive, to say the least.

“Your costume is fucking incredible, by the way. You did an amazing job.”

“Oh, thanks!” A proud smile stretched across your face, “If it wasn’t so ridiculously uncomfortable, I’d probably wear it every day. But this corset is…” You pinched and pulled at the tight garment, “Definitely not intended for daily wear.”

“Then let me get you something to more comfortable.” Bucky was up in the blink of an eye, and before you could protest, he was gone.

In the time it took you to locate and unwrap a Kit Kat, he’d arrived in the living room with a change of clothes for you. It was just a pair of sweatpants and a faded t-shirt with BROOKLYN emblazoned on the front, but after spending hours in an uncomfortable corset, you swore he was offering you a slice of heaven.

With greedy hands, you accepted the clothes, “You’re a life saver!”

You sped off down the hall, promising to be back in a flash.

Bucky scrolled through the scary movies Netflix had to offer, but didn’t pay much attention. He couldn’t believe his luck. He’d planned on spending the night all by himself. He figured he’d oscillate between sulking and self-flagellation until he finally fell asleep. But you’d saved him, as you so often did.

“Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for the clothes. Now, I can actually breathe.” You plopped down on the couch next to Bucky, “Okay, what do you wanna watch?”

Bucky scrolled through a few more movies, “I don’t know, I haven’t heard of most of these. I thought I’d defer to you.”

You motioned for him to continue scrolling and gave him a little synopsis each time one of your favorites popped up on the screen.

He listened closely and took your summaries into careful consideration. And after hemming and hawing over his options, he found himself torn. “This is tough, but I’m thinking we go with It Follows or Evil Dead.”

“Both excellent choices!” You clinked your glass against his, “Let’s do It Follows first, and then if we want to watch another, we can follow up with Evil Dead.”

“Deal.”

Bucky scrolled back a page or two and selected It Follows. The movie’s opening scene began, showcasing a quiet, suburban street. You tucked yourself closer into Bucky’s side and tore into a package of M&Ms, preparing to be scared.

But after only a minute or so, Bucky paused the movie.

He turned to you, “Hey, I’m sorry about the party.”

“Buck, we talked about this. I’d rather hang out with you than-”

“No, I mean, I’m sorry I bailed.” He pulled his gaze from your face and placed it on the ice melting in his drink. “My anxiety kind got the best of me. And I-” He locked eyes with you, “I swear I tried. I wanted to go. But I just… I couldn’t do it.” His sudden eye roll caught you off guard, “The whole thing is so ridiculous, it was just a party, but even thinking about going made my hands shake.”

“It’s not ridiculous. You’ve been through a lot, and you’re still trying to wade through all the shit Hydra saddled you with.” You gave his hand a squeeze, “Healing takes time. And it’s not a linear process. You’re gonna have ups and downs- that’s perfectly normal.”

All he could manage was a sigh.

“Like you said, it was just a party. Nothing major. So, who cares if you bailed? All that matters is that you made the right choice for you.”

“I guess.” He carded a hand through his hair, “I just want to be done with it all, you know? I want to be able to do things that normal people do.”

“I know. But, you have to give yourself some grace, okay?” You brushed a gentle hand over his cheek, “And you need to be patient. Cause there’s no skipping to the end with this stuff.”

He nodded, “Yeah.”

“So, cut yourself some slack, okay?” You nudged his shoulder with yours, “No one is more deserving of slack than you.”

“I don’t know about that-”

“If the roles were reversed,” you posited, “And I’d been through all of the trauma and abuse that you went through, would you be upset with me if I couldn’t do certain things because of my anxiety ?”

“No,” he gave a fervent shake of his head. “Never.”

“And would you want me to be kind to myself?”

Without pause, an “of course” fell from his lips.

“Okay, then you need to extend that same kindness and understanding to yourself.”

“But I just want to be able to do stuff with you,” he huffed. “I want to go to parties with you. And concerts. And-”

“Hey, all that will come with time, okay? There’s no rush.” Once again, you gave his hand a squeeze, “You’re my best friend, and I just wanna hang out with you. So, it doesn’t matter what we do. As long as you’re comfortable, I’m happy.”

Bucky eyed you for a second, “You mean that?”

You nodded, “I swear on my life.”

An awkward smile crossed his face, “Then I guess I should tell you that I’m not- I really don’t want to watch a scary movie.”

“Oh, shit. My bad, Buck. We can watch anything you want,” you said, “You pick.”

With a few taps of the remote, Bucky opened an entirely different streaming service and selected a safe movie free of actual scares.

“It’s still on theme with Halloween,” he promised, “But at least it’s not gonna give me more nightmares.”

“Yeah, whatever you want, I don’t-” The opening lines of Hocus Pocus filled the room, and you delivered a playful punch to Bucky’s arm.

He let out a loud laugh, “I had to, sweetheart. You’ve still got the make up on and everything.”

You pelted him with a few M&Ms before settling close to him. He draped an arm across your shoulders and pulled you tight, relishing in your warmth. He was so lucky to have you as his friend, so lucky to know you. He couldn’t believe you’d ditched the party you’d looked forward to for weeks- all for him. Couldn’t believe that you were spending your favorite holiday unceremoniously watching movies on his couch.

But he knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. After everything he’d gone through, he was just grateful that he’d befriended someone with such a kind heart. And as he settled in to experience Hocus Pocus for the first time, he started plotting how he’d make things up to you next Halloween.

———————————————

@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @anything-more-than-human

486 notes · View notes

ineedtherapydesperately · 6 months ago

Text

desperately wanna write a childhood friends to lovers au w chloe and red in the timeline where bridget never goes evil and is still besties w ella

like imagine all the hangouts and sleepovers they have, crying and whining when they have to be separated because red, dear, we really must return home or chloe, love, we've been in wonderland for a week already

imagine little chloe bursting into her parents' bedroom declaring that she'll always be red's knight in shining armour, because every princess, especially a crown princess, needs a knight to protect her and ella and christopher just KNOWING that chloe is gonna stay by red's side forever and ever

so they start planning the wedding with bridget, thrilled to have the opportunity to bring their families even closer together. they're gonna be in laws! a family, just like they've always dreamed.

imagine little red telling her mum that chloe has a really pretty smile and really pretty eyes, and it makes her happy to see chloe happy, and that chloe is the bestest friend in the whole wide world and bridget has to stop herself from squealing and pinching red's adorably flushed cheeks, because her daughter was so in love already, even if it was just puppy love. that doesn't stop her from screaming gleefully into her pillow later that night tho

imagine them growing up together, attached at the hip, never straying from the other's side. imagine them going to auradon together, everyone already knowing that red and chloe, chloe and red, are a package deal. you can't get one without the other, a known fact since the duo were old enough to travel through the rabbit hole on their own

imagine chad walking in on them cuddling, watching a movie and cooing at them, snapping pictures on his phone before they notice him, yelling at him to leave them alone. alright, alright, I'll leave you lovebirds alone and red flushes in mortification and shut the fuck up chad, we're completely platonic and you know this because little miss goody-goody would definitely be rougher around the edges, growing up with red, and she'd definitely cuss up a storm at chad, but she loves him, she swears, just maybe not as much as she loves red

imagine them going through all the motions of a romantic relationship, cuddles, cheek kisses, hand holding, cute dates and all that, but insisting that it's just platonic, and that's how they've always been because they're best friends and their parents are so very done with them, just praying for them to get together, and chad has even started a betting pool for when they'll realise they love each other. he thinks it'll take them until at least their second year at auradon prep - at least, it'll take chloe that long

imagine chloe and red having matching lock screens, and having each other set as their home screens as well. imagine red baking chloe anything she asks for, like peppermint cookies and flamingo feather cupcakes and blueberry muffins, because chloe, her princess, her knight, has a raging sweet tooth that red can't help but indulge every time. imagine chloe taking red on ice cream dates, because red LOVES ice cream, and refusing to let her pay for it because red was a princess and deserved only the best treatment, thank you very much and red has to point out that chloe, you're a princess too. but, red, you're the crown princess and im your loyal knight <3

imagine red finally realising her feelings and ranting at the council of parents because holy shit aunt ella, your daughter is so dense?? and christopher can't help but cringe because he knows exactly who chloe got that trait from and he's like I'm sorry but while we charmings are quite, charming, we're also quite oblivious, especially to matters of the heart and bridget can't stop laughing because darling, you may need to hit her with glass shoes for her to figure it out, which makes ella blush because that's exactly what she had to do that night at castlecoming

god I have so many feels about this I am totally normal about glassheart. final part absolutely inspired by @strugglingsapphic's recent post bc I love the idea of oblivious chloe not knowing shit

585 notes · View notes

deerlysacred · 6 days ago

Text

🍎 i feel so high school every time i look at you . . . { dean winchester x fem!reader }

𐂂 𝄢 { you always felt like you missed out on lots of silly, social & romantic things in your teenage years because you were very shut-down and depressed back then. dean shows you that there's still time to make up for it. }

𖣂 𝄢 established relationship & fluff

♫ 𝄢 concept song : so high school - taylor swift

‼️ 𝄢 i do not own supernatural or any of its characters; all rights belong to their respective creators. this is purely a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only, with no intention of profit.

Clink.

. . .

Clink!

The soft clatter of pebbles against your bedroom window barely registered at first. You were curled up under a mountain of blankets, comfortably burrowed in your own little nest, flipping through a book with a cup of tea precariously (?) balanced on your stomach. You told yourself it was probably just the wind. Or a tree branch. Or, you know, the natural creaks and groans of a house that is absolutely not haunted (you hoped so).

Then— another clink.

And another.

You sighed, your eyebrows knitting together.

Okay. Either a ghost just decided to throw hands, or some poor bird tragically lost its sense of direction.

You went out of bed, padding over to the window as you pulled the curtains away. Your eyes widened against the unexpected scene.

Dean Winchester. Standing in your backyard, throwing rocks at your window.

The sight alone was almost too much for your brain to process. He was grinning up at you like some teenage heartthrob straight out of an '80s rom-com, one hand tucked into the pocket of his leather jacket while the other —oh great— prepared to lob another pebble.

"Dean?" you whisper-yelled, opening your window. "What the hell are you doing?"

"What's it look like, sweetheart?" he whisper-yelled right back, looking too proud of himself. "I'm sneakin' my girl out for a date. Proper teenage style. Now c'mon, before your strict old folks catch me."

You just stared at him, struggling to process several things at once. One, he is standing in your yard throwing pebbles at your window like a delinquent in a coming of age TV show. Two, he just called you his girl, which— okay, that probably should've sound normal to you since you're his girlfriend indeed. For a while now, in fact. But your brain still short-circuited a little, getting flustered even after all this time.

"…Dean, I don't have strict old folks."

He waved a dismissive hand. "I dunno, Y/N. Your grandma did glare at me once. Feels like I'm riskin' life and limb here."

You bit back a laugh. "You do realize I could just use the door, right?"

Dean scoffed, his breath getting visible with the fog because of the chilly air of the evening. "Oh, sure, and miss out on the whole forbidden romance, Romeo-and-Juliet, sneakin'-through-the-night scene? Where's your sense of drama, sweetheart? Hm? Where's your passion?" He gestured grandly towards the window and flexed his muscles briefly. "Now, c'mon. Climb out or somethin'. I'll catch ya."

You folded your arms, shaking your head as you chuckled. "You will not catch me!"

Dean put a hand over his heart, looking scandalized. "Excuse me? I am a gentleman. I would absolutely catch you."

"Dean, be honest. Do you want to risk finishing this date night before it even began after you broke your arm because you got too full of yourself?"

He squinted, like he was actually considering the question. "…Okay, fair point. Plan B— the ladder in the garage. We improvise."

You shook your head again, a helpless smile breaking through. You knew why he was doing this. He probably couldn't stop thinking about what you told him last night— how you felt like you missed out on things as a teenager. How you overthink about the past missed opportunities sometimes, okay… Maybe more than sometimes. And here he was now. And because that he was Dean, instead of just saying something sweet or reassuring and get over with it (not like he was very good with words too), he was throwing pebbles at your window like a teenage rebel, giving you the moment you never got to have.

And damn it if that didn't make you fall for him even more.

"Give me a minute." you said, already reaching for your coat.

Dean grinned, all boyish mischief and dimples, retrieving the slightly rusted ladder from the garage, setting it against the house. "That's my girl, come."

You sighed and closed the window before carefully making your way back down. When you were only a couple of steps from the bottom, Dean suddenly spread his arms wide, wiggling his fingers.

"Alright, sweetheart— leap of faith. I got you."

You eyed him warily. "Dean…"

"Oh, come on. Where's your sense of adventure? Woulda made such a cute movie moment."

You rolled your eyes but decided to humor him. With a deep breath, you let go of the ladder and jumped.

Dean, to his credit, did catch you. Mostly.

He stumbled back a step, arms full of you, before he managed to steady them both, laughing. "See? Told ya I'd—oof—catch you."

You clung to him, half-giggling, half-mortified. "That was not smooth."

"Eh, I give it a solid eight outta ten," Dean said, setting you on your feet. He brushed an imaginary leaf off your shoulder, voice dipping low and playful. "Y'know, if this was some cheesy teen drama, this'd be the part where we kiss real slow, right before your dad comes out with a shotgun."

You snorted, tilting your head. "Too bad my dad's not around to threaten you."

Just as the two of you turned towards the Impala, movement from across the street caught your eye.

Mr. Jenkins.

Mr. Jenkins was your eighty-something-year-old neighbor who sits on his porch every night sipping his coffee, watching the world go by. And right now, he was watching you and Dean with the exact expression of a man who has seen some things in his time but has never seen this.

Dean followed your gaze and gave Mr. Jenkins a slow, respectful nod.

Mr. Jenkins narrowed his eyes. Took a sip of coffee. Kept staring.

Dean turned back to you, whispering. "Alright, I think I've been made. Your grandpa's gonna call the cops, isn't he?"

"He's not my grandpa."

"You sure? He's got that 'disapproving man of the house' energy goin' on."

You sighed. "Just get in the car before he starts asking questions."

Dean tugged open the Impala's door with a dramatic flourish, waving you in like he's some kind of old-school gentleman. "After you, milady."

"Dean…?" you said slowly, side-eyeing him.

"Mm?" He looked perfectly innocent. Too innocent.

"You're taking me to a makeout spot?"

Dean smirked. "Technically, I'm takin’ you to a scenic overlook with a great view of the stars." A beat. "But, yeah, also a makeout spot."

You groaned, slumping against the seat. "I hate everything."

"Nahhh, you love it."

…You kind of did love it. But he didn't need to know that.

When he finally pulled up to the clearing, the view was stunning. An open sky stretching for miles, stars shining bright against the darkness, the town lights twinkling far below. Dean shut off the engine and hopped out, you hugged your coat and went out to clim up on the hood of Baby to sit. When Dean came back, he was holding— a picnic basket?

Your brows shot up. "Oh my God, you packed snacks?"

Dean looked vaguely offended. "Sweetheart, I always pack snacks."

You laughed as he set the basket down on the hood of the Impala and sat next to you. He pulled out a few chocolate bars, a bag of chips, and—of course—a pack of beer.

"Very nutritious." you remarked.

Dean popped the cap off a bottle. "Hey, you want gourmet, sweetheart, you're in the wrong car."

You rolled your eyes but took a chocolate bar, unwrapping it as you leaned back against the windshield, eyes drifting to the sky. It really was beautiful up here. Quiet. Peaceful.

Then, the soft strumming of a guitar filters through the Impala's speakers. An old, slow love song, the kind that makes your chest ache in that bittersweet way.

You glanced at Dean, who was busy nursing his beer like this was no big deal. Like he didn't just put on a song as if this was a romance movie. Your stomach flipped, biting your bottom lip, you spoke.

"Dean…"

He cleared his throat. "Just thought, y'know… if you ever wanted that teenage movie moment… well. This ain't a prom, but…" He gestured around you. "Got the view. Got the music. Got the devastatingly handsome date."

You giggled, leaning into his side. "You are pretty devastating."

Dean grinned, draping an arm around your shoulders. For a while, you just sat there, listening to the song and cuddling.

After a moment of silence, he glanced down at you as he was caressing your shoulder gently. "So, what kinda stuff do you think you missed out on?"

"I don't know. Just… normal teenage things, I guess. Like— stupid, fun stuff. Sneaking out just to go nowhere. Sleepovers. Gossiping about crushes. A first kiss that wasn't tainted by some deep emotional crisis."

Dean winced playfully. "Oof. That one hit close to home."

You smirked. "Right?"

Dean leaned back on his palms, looking thoughtful. "Yeah, I get that. I missed out on a bunch of crap, too. No high school parties. No prom. No dumb summer jobs or college road trips. Just—" he huffed a dry laugh. "—training, hunting, and trying to keep Sammy safe."

You frowned, reaching for his hand. "That's not fair. You deserved those things, Dean."

He shrugged, squeezing your fingers. "Yeah, well… wasn't in the cards for me."

You looked down at your joined hands, your thumb tracing over his knuckles. "Sometimes I think about it. What kind of person I would've been if things had been different. If I'd been happy back then."

"You ever wish you could do it over?"

You hesitated, then shook your head. "No if it meant I wouldn't end up here. With you."

Dean's lips parted slightly, like you just knocked the wind out of him. Then, after a second, he cleared his throat and smirked. "Damn. You keep talkin' like that, and I'm gonna have to start writing poetry."

"Oh, please. I'd love to hear your poetry."

Dean straightened, putting on a dramatic voice. "Roses are red, Impala is black. Every time you kiss me, I forget how to act."

You laughed and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips. "That was beautiful. You should publish that."

Dean grinned. "Oh, totally. I heard bad poetry is in high demand."

"Then congrats, baby, you're about to be a bestseller."

You sat like that for a while, the laughter fading into something softer, warmer. Then, as the song playing on the radio faded into another slow melody, Dean suddenly sat up.

"Alright, that's it." He turned to you with a grin. "We're fixin' this."

You blinked. "Uh… Fixing what?"

He hopped off the hood, holding out a hand to you. "We missed out on stupid teenage things, right? So let's make up for it. Starting with a slow prom dance under the stars."

You huffed a small laugh but didn't resist when he took your hand, helping you down. The second you were standing, Dean turned, grabbed a soft flannel blanket from the basket, and carefully draped it over your shoulders.

"Wouldn't want my girl gettin' cold." he murmured, making sure it wrapped snugly around you. Then, with a boyish smirk, he added: "Also, this way you can't run when I step on your toes."

You giggled. "Wow. Confidence through the roof, Winchester."

Dean just grinned and pulled you closer, swaying you two gently to the quiet music playing from the Impala's radio.

At first, it was ridiculous. He exaggerated his steps like some old-school ballroom instructor, guiding you dramatically across the dirt like you were at some grand gala instead of parked on an empty hill. But you played along, batting your lashes and letting out an over-the-top sigh, as if you'd just been swept into the most magical moment of your life.

Then, somewhere along the way, the teasing melted into something softer.

Your movements slowed, your bodies falling into an easy rhythm. Your arms looped around Dean's neck, your fingers absentmindedly curling into his hair. His hands settled at your waist, thumbs drawing lazy circles through the fabric of your clothing. The blanket cocooned you in warmth, shielding you from the cold night air.

For a while, you just swayed. No words, no hurry. Just you two, the hum of the radio, the distant chirp of crickets, and the glow of the stars above.

Then Dean dipped his head, his nose brushing lightly against yours. His voice was quieter now, softer. "Y'know… I think I like our version of prom better."

You smiled up at him. "Yeah?"

"Mmhm." His voice was lazy. "No bad music. No ugly corsages. And best of all…" His lips quirked up. "I get to kiss the prettiest girl here."

You barely had time to catch your breath before Dean tilted his head, capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss. This one wasn't playful or teasing— it was deep, unhurried, and sure. Reassuring. Reassuring in a way that told you you didn't miss out on anything, everything little step in life brought you here. To him. And you knew, that this was more meaningful and real than any ghost of a never-happened memory.

#𐂂 𝄢 syl's fics #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester #supernatural

260 notes · View notes

thottieonline · 4 days ago

Text

PENN’S HOTTEST VIRGIN

LUIGI MANGIONE X VIRGIN! FEM READER

IN WHICH — Reader goes to her first Frat Party at Phi Kappa Psi, partying with Frat President Luigi Mangione.

WARNINGS — SMUT!! Porn with a Plot! Minors DNI!

CONTAINS — Loss of Virginity (Duh), Religious themes, PinV! Oral (Fem! Receiving), Praise! Blasphemy — we knew it was coming. Reader wears glasses (a bit self indulgent, lol)

NOTES — So. Much. Dirty. Talk. Luigi’s a little rough but we love it! Like this is just straight PORN I’m so sorry!! Anyways, this is my first smut on Tumblr, so excited to be here!

To Y/N, it seemed that it was a social norm to have had sexual experiences or have been in a relationship, especially by your second year in one of the biggest party schools in the country — So how was it possible someone as beautiful as Y/N could remain untouched?

She knew her male peers gawked at her and shamelessly spoke about her whenever she walked by, often hearing the things they wanted to do to her in passing, ultimately sending shivers down her spine.

She was innocent, not stupid.

Considering she came from a family devoted to their Catholic faith, they had tried their best to shield her from a life of “sin.” However, as she grew older, she started to question her religion.

Would I really go to hell for doing this? If I wasn’t meant to be doing this, why does it feel so good?

Those questions eventually lead her to make more impulsive decisions. After all, you’re only twenty in one of the biggest party schools once.

Ask for forgiveness, not permission — The voice of her roommate Blair spoke into her head. Blair being her voice of unreason, she encouraged her to be more wild, thus leading to them getting ready for a frat party at one a.m on a Tuesday.

“B, you still haven’t told me what frat we’re going to.” Y/N yelled over Blair’s loud music, Blair only sparing a glance at her and refocused on her hair. “We’re going to Kappa.”

Phi Kappa Psi was one of UPenn’s biggest frat houses, gaining a reputation for throwing the wildest parties on campus, competing with other frat houses on who could garner the most attention, in-campus and off-campus.

Other Fraternities pale in comparison to Phi Kappa as they miss one important element — Luigi Mangione.

Luigi Mangione managed to make a name for himself as a fourth year student, making a lasting impression on his fellow peers and professors. Being exceptionally gifted in Computer Science, Robotics, and Charisma — Mangione had the respect of everyone around him in the palm of his hand.

Mangione being five-foot-eleven, athletic and intelligent with unruly curly hair and a smile to die for — It was simple, really. Every man wanted to be him, while every girl prayed for the opportunity to be the next one he took to bed.

She was no exception — though she never voiced her desires out loud. Y/N often imagined his lips trailing down her neck, his lips creating a suction on her sensitive skin, sucking on her vanilla lotioned skin to the point of bruising.

God only knew how much she wanted to be marked up by him. Her virgin mind constantly thought about sex, but she couldn’t think about anyone else but him. No one else had her attention like he did and that was exactly how she liked it.

She only thought about Luigi fucking her to the point where she cried, her pussy being used and overfilled with his cum. She’d imagine him continuing to fuck her after she lost count of how many times she came, the glasses she normally wore on her face were nowhere to be found.

Y/N imagined Luigi calling her his perfect slut, praising her ability to take all of him like a champ.

“God it’s like this pussy was made for me. Tell me, how good do I fuck you, baby?”

“Such a good fucking slut for me, N/N.”

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby. Let me see you.”

Just the thought of him made her thighs clench together. Luigi was the only one she would ever let fuck raw. She needed to feel all of him, every inch and every vein of his Italian cock. She wanted Luigi to ruin her for other men, fucking her so good to the point all she can remember is his name.

It’d be even better for her to wake up to such a deliciously painful reminder of him when she’s hardly able to walk the next morning.

“Okay, I’m done.” Blair spoke, quickly snapping Y/N back to reality. She looked at her roommate, seeing she had finished getting ready for the night.

Since it was a frat party, Y/N and Blair were dressed in simple yet sexy outfits— Y/N opting for a black tank top, pairing them with denim shorts that were tight on her ass and her beat up sneakers.

She’d done her hair hours ago, opting to go straight, putting her trust onto the anti-humidity products she put in her hair to last all night.

“Bitch you look so good.” She smiled, Blair giving her a full 360 of her outfit. “Thank you, baby.” Blair smiled at her compliment.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to get fucked tonight, looking all sexy.” Blair teased, making Y/N roll her eyes, fighting back a smile.

“So what if I am?” She challenged, half-jokingly.

Blair squealed, “She’s finally coming out of her shell! Took almost two years but we’re here.” She quickly wrapped her arms around Y/N. “C’mon, let’s get you fucked up tonight!”

Before she knew it, Y/N had stepped foot onto Kappa grounds, already trashed with red solo cups and a couple of passed out partygoers on the front yard — It looked like a scene straight out of Project X.

Careful to not step on those passed out on the grass, Y/N and Blair made it to the front door, pathetically guarded by one of the seemingly drunk pledges. “Damn, looking good mamis.”

The two giggled at the slurred voice of the young man, “You two on the list?” He asked. Before Y/N could open her mouth, Blair already began talking to him.

“Not really, but I think you can make an exception for tonight?” Blair flirted, placing her manicured hand on his bicep, giving the young man false hope of something happening later on.

“Fuck,” He uttered under his breath. “Yeah, you two can come in. Enjoy, ladies.” He stepped out of the way, letting Y/N and Blair come through.

“You gotta teach me how to do that.” Y/N chuckled. “It was like you didn’t have to try at all.”

“Y/N, please, you can totally do that. You just overthink things too much. You didn’t see how he was looking at you at the door?” Blair chuckled. “Now, let’s get you some liquid courage — God knows how much you need it.”

With that, Blair took Y/N’s hand and led her to the dining room, where the infamous Kappa jungle juice was placed. Blair poured herself and Y/N a full cup — the combination of the sweet cranberry juice and the unforgiving strong scent of liquor nearly sent her to a drunken state.

Out of habit, she did a silent prayer before she downed her drink.

“Fuck, that’s strong.” She groaned to herself, the bitter taste of the liquor lingering on her tongue. Y/N pushed herself to drink more — It wouldn’t be a complete first frat party experience without getting shitfaced drunk.

Blair giggled at the sight, “I’ll be right back, N/N. Stay here, ‘Kay?”

“Mhm.” Y/N hummed, acknowledging her. She continued to drink, silently praying once more to get her through the unforgiving taste of the drink in her cup.

God, if you let me get through this, I promise you—

“Yeah, I’d say the prayer is totally necessary.” A deep voice spoke close to her, interrupting her moment with the man upstairs. Y/N turned her head to the side out of curiosity and there he stood less than a foot away — Luigi fucking Mangione smirking at her.

“Say, were you also raised catholic or was that for dramatics?” He teased, making her blush as she looked down at her feet before looking up at him again.

“Definitely both.” Y/N laughed, her free hand playing with her gold cross necklace that laid nicely on her chest.

Luigi’s gaze flickering from her eyes onto her necklace. He admired how the gold cross complimented her glistened skin. The last piece of Y/N’s devotion to God contrasting with the less-than-holy outfit she had on drove him insane.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” She spoke, the liquor giving her the courage to introduce herself — something she could’ve never imagined doing stone cold sober. The sound of her voice made him flicker his gaze from her chest onto her eyes, decorated with her signature frames.

He smirked to himself before telling her — “I know who you are, pretty. I’m just surprised to see you here, that’s all.” With that, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her body closer to his, her heart racing faster with just a simple touch.

“You do?” She questioned.

Mangione was two years above her and to the best of her knowledge, they didn’t have any classes together. It was a really big school, after all.

“You don’t know?” He asks, taking in how her eyes glimmered with curiosity as she shook her head. “You’ve seriously never seen the Penn Crush page on Facebook?”

“You know, I don’t really use Facebook like that — So, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.” She smiles, watching him pull out his phone to look up the infamous Penn Crushes page on his screen.

A few seconds pass by and there she was — Y/N L/N all in her glory. She scrolled through his screen, seeing the countless pictures taken of random students that deemed was submitted to the page — yet a lot of those pictures were of her.

There was one picture of her taken from afar where she sat on a random bench, presumably waiting for her next class, and there was another one that she recalled Blair taking a picture and uploaded on her Instagram story. It must’ve been screenshot and submitted as she saw the amount of likes on the post.

She continued to scroll until she saw one post where the caption immediately grabbed her attention —

Penn’s Hottest Virgin, Y/N L/N in a throwback post with the Penn Catholic Service Association. It’s great knowing she’s kept her promise! #virginityrocks

“Oh My God.” Y/N laughs at the post. She recalled joining PCSA when she first came to the school to have an outlet where she could be with others like herself.

She’d thought it’d be a good way to stay connected to her religion while forming new friendships, becoming a dedicated member of the association and getting involved with her community.

Y/N recalled the event from the post as she had to prepare a speech on why it was important to her to keep her promise to God to maintain her purity. At the time, she didn’t mind that people knew if she was a virgin — It was the whole point of the speech!

However, as time passed on and she had since left the association, it was definitely something that she wouldn’t have shared now, nearly two years later.

She read through the comments, barely processing the countless amounts of praise she received unbeknownst to her. “I didn’t think I was on anyone’s radar,” She joked, “Especially as the hottest virgin.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely a fan favorite.” He told her, not before he pulled her impossibly closer. “Have you kept your promise?” He teased, seeing the almost immediate effect he had on her.

She didn’t know if it was the combination of the crowded room they were in with the liquor or the fact that Mangione’s lips were on her ear, asking a question that sounded so innocent, yet so filthy.

The heat rising in her body was getting too much. Y/N felt his hazel eyes following her every move, from the way she subtly pushes up her glasses to the way she clenches her thighs together to relieve the ache in between her legs.

“Yes, sir.” She smiled at him, “But, I think I wanna break it.”

“You do?” He cooed, tucking her hair behind her ear. Luigi knew she wanted him as bad as he did, but he needed those words to come out of her mouth.

She bit her lip, holding back her words for the last time. “I want you to take my virginity.”

With that, he put down his cup on the remaining space on the counter, taking her hand in his and leading her up to his room.

The hallways were completely closed off. It was quiet, a complete one-eighty of the chaos that ensued everywhere else. Luigi unlocked his room, holding the door open for her as she entered what she would describe as the closest thing to heaven.

Y/N turned around to see him close the door and without hesitation, he pulled her by her waist and placed his soft, plump lips onto hers, starting her off slow and sensual — It was the perfect first kiss, she thought, but she knew the slow pace wasn’t going to be enough.

She wanted him so fucking bad, wanting to prove to him that she could take it like the good fucking girl she is. She’d been waiting for him all this time and she couldn’t let it go to waste. Y/N pulled him impossibly closer to her as she began to channel her insatiable desire for him, Mangione following suit.

His hands trailed from her waist and latched onto her hips, fueled by desire as he backed her onto his mattress, their bodies creating a soft thud on the bed. Never breaking the kiss, Luigi ground himself onto her denim shorts, making her moan into the kiss.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” She whimpered, breaking away from their kiss. He was orally fixated on her, his lips continuing their delicious assault on her sensitive skin.

“Gonna mark you up real nice, baby.” He uttered, eliciting a moan from her in response. “You like that, hm? You wanna be marked up by me?”

“So fucking bad.” He smirked at her confession, placing his lips back onto her neck and trailed down to her belly button. His strong hands roughly pulled down her denim shorts, Y/N’s body clad with her tank top and her soaked white thong.

The cool air in his bedroom didn’t help relieve the ache in between her thighs, needing him more than ever. “Bow on your panties? How cute.” He teased, pushing her panties to the side as he licked a bold stripe on her slit.

Her hips jolted at the newfound sensation, Mangione smiling at her reaction. His hands gripped onto her hips as he continued to use his tongue on her relentlessly, needing her to get himself drunk. Luigi couldn’t help himself but gather every last drop of her juices on his tongue, tasting her virginal pussy.

A string of sounds escaped her mouth as his tongue continued to work through her folds, circling his tongue around her clit before sucking on it. Her knees buckled at the suction of his lips.

“Fuck, L-Luigi.” She whimpered.

It was all happening so fast, her mind in a haze as Luigi held her up, throwing one of her legs over his shoulder as he continued to give his all, devouring her as if she was his last meal.

He had love for the game, so determined to make her first time worth it — wanting her to scream his name loud enough so everyone could know he was the first one to fuck Penn’s Hottest Virgin.

“Say it louder, baby. Need everyone to hear you.” He heaved, replacing his mouth with his long, skilled fingers.

She cried in pleasure as his two fingers stretched her out like no other, his digits pressing right up against that spot deep inside her that she could never reach on her own. Her glasses had slipped off her face, laid somewhere on his mattress.

It would’ve frustrated her to not be able to see, but with how good he’d been giving it to her, her eyes had stayed shut, the poor girl only being able to keep them open for only a few seconds until the next wave of pleasure.

“Put them back on for me, baby — Please.” He pleaded, loving how her glasses decorated her face. That was her signature, she’d never been without her glasses since the first time he saw her.

She reached out for her glasses, feeling the hard plastic beside her, putting them back on her beautiful face.

“Did so fucking good baby, listening to me.” He praises her, taking out his fingers and putting his mouth back on her needy pussy.

Y/N was so fucking close, her legs shaking around him as he devours until there’s nothing left — Luigi drinking up all her juices as they spread from her pussy to her thighs and undoubtedly his bedsheets.

Mangione had taken everything from her at that moment — her body, mind and voice. It was all too much, her needy hands reached into his bed of curls, gripping onto them as she buried him impossibly deeper between her thighs.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck Lui, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonn-” She cried out, tears running down her face as his name rolled off her tongue, his name being said so many times as if it were a prayer.

It was so sinful, so sexy, and he loved it.

“Cum on it, baby.” He urged, his tongue desperate for another taste. Luigi had been hooked from the first drop and had a craving for more. His tongue trailed from her hole onto the top of her folds, swallowing the remaining juices on her pussy.

“You taste so fucking good.” He praised, kissing her right inner thigh. Luigi could spend his entire life reliving this moment, worshipping her body.

Her body was in a near paralyzed state, the only signs of her liveliness was her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Her glasses were now sitting at the tip of her nose, making her look so much sexier to him.

Luigi tried to fight back his infamous shit-eating smirk, but it was no use. He smiled proudly, showcasing the infamous fangs that everyone had been obsessed with, Y/N included.

Seeing those fangs reignited the fire in her body, needing to feel him again. Y/N lifted herself up and got on her fours, crawling to the edge of the bed where he remained kneeled.

There was nothing else on her mind but him. She wanted him to ruin her so fucking badly and so did he. His hazel eyes were clouded with lust as were hers. His dick was uncomfortably strained against his shorts, begging to be inside her virgin pussy.

Mangione leaned closer, his hands gently grab on to her face as he brings her closer to his face, closing the gap between them.

He held her face as their lips moved in sync, much hungrier than before, Y/N tasting the combination of the sweet jungle juice and herself on his tongue. Her hands trailed down his toned body, feeling his hard cock on the palm of her hand.

“Not sure if all of that is gonna fit inside me, Lui.” She joked, as she pulled away from the kiss, gently squeezing his bulge. It felt so fucking good under her hand, the feeling of how hard he was for her made her so much wetter.

“We’ll make it fit. I’ll make sure you’ll take all of it.” He promised, sealing it with a kiss. He pulled down his shorts, revealing how big he was — His tip glossed with precum.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, N/N — wanted you in my bed since I first saw you.” He confesses, guiding his dick between her folds. His tip rested right at her pussy, inching in slowly as she winced in pain.

“Want me to stop, baby?” He coos, caressing her soft thigh.

She shook her head, “I-I can take it, Lui—S-Swear.”

Satisfied, he pushes himself in her even more. “God, you feel so fucking good — wanna fuck you so hard, but we gotta wait, right?” He teased.

“Fuck me, Lui.” She pleaded, pulling his face down so she could whisper into his ear, the hard plastic pressed against the shell of his ear — “I want you to fuck me until I can't walk straight."

With that, he pushed himself all the way inside, his dick harder than ever before. The burning sensation intensified, a small shriek erupting from her throat. “F-Fuck.” Y/N gasped.

The initial pain soon subsided as he continued to thrust, his hips connecting to hers — Luigi & Y/N becoming one. She cried with pleasure as Luigi’s pace intensified, making her tits’ jiggle out of the skimpy tank top, her eighteen karat gold chain smacking against her chest.

It felt so fucking wrong, yet so fucking right.

He wasn’t ever supposed to see her in that way — For fucks’ sake, he wasn’t even supposed to know who she was!

Mangione was her fantasy come to life. She loved the way he felt, his cock going in so deep inside her he could see an imprint of where he was. He couldn’t resist, taking her hand in his and placing it on her stomach.

“You feel that? I want you to remember it f-forever.” He groaned. Her cunt grasped him hard, holding him even tighter.

“Oh fuck! Y-You make me feel so fucking g-good, baby.” She whimpered.

“Yeah?” He mocked, grinding his hips deeper into hers, his pace slowing down a bit, making her feel every inch and vein of his. She clenched around him once more, Luigi groaning at the sudden tightness. He worked harder, hips snapping into hers as he picked up the pace once again.

Y/N loved how full he made her, the way he didn’t leave a single part of her body untouched.

“God, it’s like this pussy was made for me. Tell me, how good do I fuck you, baby?” He gripped on her hips, smiling at her fucked out expression.

“So,” It was all she could get out, her speech becoming more incoherent the closer she got. Y/N placed her manicured fingers on her clit rubbing her sensitive bud in circles, matching his pace.

Her body squirmed at the dual stimulation — It was all becoming too much. Y/N wanted this to last forever, never wanting to forget how his big dick felt inside her body, fucking her like the slut she knew she was.

“Luigi!” She screamed in pleasure, reaching her peak. Her walls pulsated around him like crazy, nearly sending Luigi into his climax. As much as he wanted to cum inside her, the thought of him cumming on her beautiful glasses sent him into overdrive.

God, he just loved her fucking glasses.

“Please baby, I just wanna cum on your glasses. Can I, baby?” He pleaded, pulling out of her. He took his needy cock in his strong hand, he inching closer to her frames.

He was so close, how could she deny him such a pleasure?

Y/N nodded, excitedly grabbing his dick from his hold and jerked him, aiming him closer to her frames. “Like this?” She asked sweetly as he shuddered around her touch.

His cum quickly shot out of him, landing on her glasses and coating her vision. “Just like that, sweetheart.” He assured her.

Luigi released himself from her touch, wanting to mark her up with his cum, aiming for below her stomach. He released a string of curses under his breath, chasing his much needed relief.

“Fuck, that was definitely the best sex I’ve ever had.” He breathed, feeling so fucked out as he laid next to Y/N’s body.

At that point, her hair had been messed up as the anti-humidity spray was no longer holding up as some texture had shown up, adding onto her “sexed out” look.

Even with her hair wild and free, she still managed to look so beautiful — Luigi couldn’t get enough.

She shook her head, playfully rolling her eyes at him. “Please, you’re just saying that.”

“I mean every word I say, Y/N. I’ve thought about you so much, it drove me insane — Do you know how hard it is to run a fraternity when there’s only one thing on your mind?” He ranted, now getting up from his spot on the bed.

She shook her head, knowing he couldn’t see her from his private bathroom. She was amused with the Italian. “Didn’t know it was so hard on you, Mr. President.”

“Very hard, actually.” He stated, returning with a damp cloth and wiping her body down. “Especially when she was known as the hottest virgin.” He joked, making her laugh.

Once she’s all wiped down, Luigi then uses his own personal glasses cleaning kit from his bedside drawer, spraying the liquid onto the stained glass, cleaning her frames with such care.

“You’re too much, Luigi.” She smiled, adoring the man beside her. “So detailed, too.”

“I’ll prove it everyday if I have to, Bellisima.” He professes, placing her frames back on her face with such care. “I’m not letting you go after everything you said to me.” Luigi pulls her in for another kiss, reassuring her he was there to stay.

#luigi mangione #luigi mangione smut #luigi mangione imagine #luigi mangione x reader #virgin reader #frat!luigi

223 notes · View notes

sinkovia · 1 year ago

Text

Riley

Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Angst

As you stood in the presence of Ghost, your boyfriend who had been missing for a year and two months, a heavy sense of disbelief washed over you.

"Ghost?" you gasped, your eyes widening as you stared at the man standing before you in the rain. His once warm and gentle gaze now appeared distant and cold, his grip on the combat knife, a gift you had given him two years ago, seemed unnaturally tight.

"Simon, it's me!" you yelled, trying to get through to him, but the look in his eyes was chilling. It was as if he didn't recognize you at all. The man you had loved, who had become your partner in life, now looked at you like you were a complete stranger. In his silence, he lunged at you with the knife, and you realized with a sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong. It was as though he had been brainwashed, transformed into a weapon, a threat that couldn't be reasoned with.

Trying to reach him, you spoke softly but with determination, "Simon, it's me. Do you remember? It's Y/n. You know me!"

But he remained unresponsive, his eyes locked onto you with a deadly intensity. He lunged at you with the knife, aiming to strike, and you managed to parry the attack, your years of training and reflexes kicking in.

You continued, your voice pleading as you tried to break through to him, "Remember, all those missions we went on together, the late-nights in the rec room, all of soaps shitty jokes?!"

Each swing of his knife was met with your skillful deflection, but it was clear that he had been brainwashed. He wouldn't stop until he struck you down.

"Simon, please!", your heart aching as you dodged and blocked his attacks. "Think about everything we've been through, all the memories we've created. I'm not your enemy. Please remember who I am!"

But there was no sign of recognition in his eyes, only a relentless determination to eliminate the perceived threat. You were in a battle against the very person you had missed so dearly, and all you could do was hope that some part of the real Simon remained within. The battle continued and you desperately parried Ghost's relentless attacks. You kept yelling at him, trying to get through to him. You had managed to hold your own against him, deflecting every strike he sent your way. Your balance faltered when you stepped in a puddle of mud, and Ghost seized the opportunity to strike. His combat knife found its mark.

The blade cut into your arm, a searing pain shooting through your body. You hissed as you tried to regain your footing, but it was too late. Ghost's knife plunged deep into your stomach. The irony of the situation didn't escape you; you had given him that very knife as a gift, and now it was embedded in your abdomen. He ripped the knife out of your stomach and raised it again, his next target, your chest. Your teary eyes went to his and in one final attempt to get through to him the word spilled from your bloody lips as his knife was stabbed deep in your chest.

"Riley"

Only you had called him this, whenever you were lecturing him, nagging him about something, you had always called him by his last name. It seemed to break through the fog that had clouded his mind. His eyes, once cold and distant, softened as he gazed at your face, and a flicker of recognition danced in his eyes. You smile knowing you finally got through to him.

As he took in your injured state, his gaze dropped to the knife he held, buried deep in your chest. Horror washed over his face as he realized what he just did. Your knees buck and you fall to the ground, bringing him with you. With tears in his eyes, he pulled you close, cradling you in his arms, the blood from your chest staining his clothes and mingling with the rain-soaked ground.

You were dead before you hit the ground.

"Love?" He pulled you closer to him, holding your lifeless body against his chest, his tears falling freely as he begged, his voice trembling with desperation.

"Y/n? Look at me," he pleaded, his voice shaking.

"Look at me, love. Baby please, please just look at me." his voice broke as he continued, unable to accept the reality.

"I'm so sorry."

He tightly clung to your body but your lifeless eyes remained far away, and you were gone, lost forever to a world where his words couldn't reach you.

701 notes · View notes

admirationandromantics · 2 months ago

Text

Going overboard, 7: Loss

Told you that you would get two chapters tonight! Actually felt so bad about the last chapter, but I promise, none of the others are that short. Personally, this one was the funniest one to write, playing around when Josh is at his worst (I promise I'm a good person), but I like having a bit of freedom with everything yk? Anyways, hope you like it, and get ready for chapter 8 tomorrow <3

The lights turn on, and Ashley’s crying. Chris is still intact. I let out a breath of relief.

“No, no, no get away” Ashley shouts. We all move closer, seeing the Psycho walking slowly towards them. Chris aims the gun, shooting him several times. For a minute, I forget about the fake bullets, and my hand covers my mouth to keep me from shouting. Josh laughs.

“Oh Chris, oh Chris Chris Chris Chris.”

“What the fuck?”

“Oh, you’ve heard of blanks before?”

“I mean, really?”

He takes off his mask, revealing himself.

“Josh?” Chris asks, confused and tired. Ashley keeps blinking, and Sam runs forward, getting her untied. Josh keeps laughing.

“Josh!” Sam exclaims, probably glad to see that he’s okay. I look down, and can't meet his gaze. This is not the Josh I know. He doesn’t stop laughing.

“Josh…” Mike says.

“Oh, oh, very good. Every one of you got my name!”

“And after all you’ve been through! Good, good-good-good. I mean, how does that feel? Right? How does it feel? Do you enjoy feeling terrorised, humiliated, panicked? All those feelings my sisters got to feel that night one year ago. Only guess what, they didn’t get to laugh it off, no, no, they’re gone.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed Josh, but none of us are laughing” Mike scolds.

“Oh come-come-come-come-come, why the long faces? Come on. It’s good to get the heart racing every now and then, right? And race they did, I mean, every one of you, just pitter-pat, pitter-pat! I hope you appreciated my little phantasmagorical spectacle! I mean, no detail too small, no opportunity missed.”

I walk over to Chris, getting him untied as well. I notice a camera some paces away. He fucking video-recorded all of it.

“It was such a delight to play the puppet master to all of you Pavlovian panic. And all that gore! I mean, it was gore galore! Fake bodies, I mean, god that shit was expensive. Oh, and no retakes, only double-takes! Hook, line and sinker for every little stinker!”

“Josh, why are you doing this?” Sam asks.

“Don’t even ask this squirrelly little runt. He’s got no clue, he’s out of his fucking tree” Mike yells.

“He’s off his medication” I state. “And he has been for a while.”

“Awe, come on you guys. Revenge is the best medicine!”

“You’re done!” Mike threatens.

“Mike, he’s sick” Chris adds.

“He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s gone way overboard, but he’s obviously having some sort of episode” I support, looking down at Chris.

“What, I do know what I’m doing, you guys are going to thank me when you become internet sensations.”

“What, what?” I exclaim.

“Oh you bet this is going viral ladies and germs. I mean, we got unrequited love, extreme grief, gore, blood. Oh so much blood! I don’t think there’s enough hard drives in China to count all the views we’re going to get you guys.” Mike shakes his head.

“What are you talking about, you ass-hat. Jessica is fucking dead!”

“What?” Everyone turns to Mike.

“Did you hear me?” he asks, walking slowly towards Josh. “Jessica is dead, and you’re going to fucking pay you dick!” he shouts as he hits him in the head, making him fall to the ground, eyes closed, and not getting up.

“What the hell Mike!” I yell.

“You stay fucking out of this!” he shouts back, pointing at me. “This fucker is going to pay, you hear me!”

I don’t say anything else. If he really did kill Jessica, then we can’t do anything else about it. We all make it upstairs, Chris has tied his hands, and I hurt just looking at him. I have to keep reminding myself that this is for everyone’s safety.

“What are we going to do?” Sam asks.

“Emily and Matt went to the radio tower for help” I say.

“When?”

“After this freak faked his own death” Chris adds.

“And they haven’t come back yet?”

Shit. During everything, I had forgotten about them.

“Well, one thing is for sure, this guy is not staying here” Mike states.

“So where should we take him?”

“The shed?” I ask. If he had a whole set-up there, it might be livable for a night.

“Okay, you coming?” Mike asks. I nod in reply.

“I’ll come too” Chris adds.

“We’ll wait here for Em and Matt” Ashley states.

***

We take Josh outside, the guys being harsh and brutal. I just look down, not facing either of them. As long as they don’t really physically hurt him.

“Guys, come on, seriously, this is crazy you know” Josh says, refusing to keep going.

“Shut up man, the only crazy here is you”

He looks over at me, pleading. “Come on, you love me, you care about me, you wouldn’t do this”

“Just till the morning, Josh, so we can get you some help.” Mike keeps pushing him, eventually leading him to losing his balance and falling. I grab hold of his arm, lifting him up again. But right when he’s on his feet again, he tries to run back to the lodge, causing Mike to shove him again.

“Good God” I whisper.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Locking you up, bro” Mike snarls. “So you can’t do anything stupid before we call the police in the morning”

“Come on, I didn’t do anything-”

“Are you serious?” Chris interrupts.

“You’re a goddamned murderer, is what you are” Mike interjects.

“I didn’t do it. Michael please, just listen to me man. I did not hurt Jessica.”

“Guys, we don’t know anything for sure” I add.

“Listen to her, she’s saying I didn’t do it”

“Josh, we don’t know anything, just keep silent till tomorrow, please” I plead.

He stays silent for a while, making it easier to get him to the shed.

“You’re just seeing what you want to see. You’re blind!” Josh yells.

“Stop talking!” Mike shoots back, throwing him down.

“Mike…” I yell, and Chris immediately follows. “Dude, chill”

Mike gets over him, holding him in place.

“It’s not my fault you suckers can’t take a joke”

Mike twists his hands, making Josh give a small whimper. “Oh, wait, did I hurt you? Did you just feel a little bit of pain?”

“Mike” I threaten. There’s no use acting like this when he’s obviously not in the right state of mind.

“Oh, I’m so soooo sorry” Mike continues taunting. Josh continues to shout, telling him to stop. Chris looks away, unsure about how to handle the situation.

“Mike stop it” I tell him, and he forces Josh up on his legs again.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am that something happened to Jessica, but it wasn’t me, I swear I don’t know what happened” Josh explains. Something feels wrong, but I can’t wrap my head around it. When it happened, what was Josh doing? Chris finally interjects.

“Josh, do you really expect us to trust you after everything you’ve put us through?”

He starts laughing, maniacally. I can’t face him, can’t see him like this.

“Can’t we all just get along?” he asks in a child-like manner. Mike grabs him, and I don’t know what else he’s doing but it makes Josh scream. “We’re not dicking around.” Mike starts pushing him into the shed.

“This was not how it was supposed to go down, this was not, just not…” Josh continues rambling.

“You’re just a bunch of bullies! You can’t hang me out to dry like this!”

I sigh, tired and exhausted, like I’ve been all night. Josh keeps yelling, Mike pushing, and Chris seems completely shattered. He’d lost his friend too many times today.

“Not like you got the guts to do anything about it, huh?” Josh continues, pining Mike.

“Ohh, you’re the biggest coward there is” Chris chimes in.

“Uh huh? I did something! I made you believe in a world that I created, and I showed you parts of yourself you were too afraid to visit!”

“Would you shut up Josh!” I yell, everyone looking at me with surprise. “You tricked us, you manipulated all of us, your friends, me… And you did all of this while hiding behind some screens in a basement with a mask. Don’t you understand how fucked up this is?” My voice cracks, and I can’t help it. Anger, annoyance, betrayal. I was there, I could’ve helped him, he kissed me. He distracted me in the worst way possible just to shut me out yet again.

Mike turns back, taking hold of him and forcing him on a chair beside a pole. Josh continues grunting in protest, shouting at us. Both the guys tie the rope around, having to hold him down while doing it.

“Can’t tie him up if he just wiggles around!”

“Josh”

“Give me a little wiggle room!” His eyes are nothing like what they usually are. It seems like some type of spark has left them, which is now filled with a dark fog.

“Plastic ties, way more good for hostage situations…” Josh mumbles.

“What the hell is going on with him?” Mike asks.

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen him like this before” I answer.

“It’s so difficult to see him like this” Chris adds.

“Ashley’s a dumb dumb…” Chris turns to him, asking what the hell he’s talking about.

“Well, I said you’re a dummy dummy!”

“Chris don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know what he’s saying” I plead. Josh starts making kissing sounds, teasing and pining Chris.

“You know what that sound is? It’s the sound of never kissing Ashley you pussy!”

“Stop!” Chris grabs a plank, already holding it in the air.

“Josh, please”

“You know, you might as well let Ashley sleep with Mike.” I look over at Mike, and he’s already looking around confused, unsure about the circumstances of the whole conversation and how it led back to him. I shake my head to him, urging him to stay out of the whole thing and don’t contribute to the fire.

“I mean, at least he has some notches in his belt. He’ll treat her right!” Josh shouts as he’s humping the air.

“You’re fucking pathetic Christopher!”

“I’m going to beat his fucking head off!” Chris shouts. I quickly grab the plank, dragging it out of his hands.

“Don’t listen to him, man, it’s not worth it” Mike tells him, hand on his shoulder. Josh shifts his target, looking over at Mike and starts repeating his name.

“What is it Josh?”

“What happened with Jess, Mike?”

“You know what happened”

“No, no I don’t. I’ve got a problem Mike-”

“No shit Sherlock” Chris whispers. Josh continues.

“I don’t remember killing Jess…”

“Christ”

“I mean, like, I feel like I would remember killing her, you know? She’s so soft… And she’s probably got like, a really tight bod”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Mike screams, aiming the pistol at him.

“Woah, woah, woah, Mike” I carefully thread. “Put the pistol down.” He lowers it, staring at him with contempt.

“Josh, will you please just shut up?” I urge him, trying to persuade him.

“Only if you give me a little show.” My annoyance and anger cover the slight missing of him.

“You know…” he starts.

“You were a fucking obstacle in my whole thought-out plan”

“I mean, some of the thrill of it is being a bit spontaneous, right? And the only way I manage to get you out of my way was to literally fuck you senseless!”

I take a deep breath, this isn’t him, he would never say stuff like this. The other guys look surprisingly my way, Chris waving his arms in an awkward manner, not knowing what to do.

“And like, fucking we did! And when you figured it aaaaall out? There was no other thought that came to mind than to get you down and going and on and on and on…” he keeps chanting, and I lift the plank in the air and hit him. Hard.

“Shit, why the hell did you do that?” Chris asks. Mike just shakes his head, glad that the continuous mumbling is gone. Josh is knocked out, and Chris’s immediate reaction was to check for a pulse.

“I didn’t fucking kill him” I scold, but he just gives me a dirty look.

“You guys go back to the lodge, I’ll stay here” Mike offers. I shake my head.

“No worries, I’ll stay here with you. Maybe he’ll wake up in a better state of mind, and if he does, I need to apologise.”

“I’m going to leave him with the guy who pointed a gun to his head and the girl who knocked him out?” Chris asks, and we both nod.

“Fine, just don’t hurt him again, please?” he says as he makes his way outside, walking back to the lodge.

77 notes · View notes

pynkgothicka · 2 years ago

Text

ＤＥＡＴＨＪＪＫ

Synopsis - After your husband passes, your therapist gives you a new opportunity to be with him. (Part one of The Monster Series.)

Pairing - Yandere! Dark! Android! Jeon Jungkook x Widower! Fem! Reader

Featuring - Steven Yuen

Tags and Warnings - Violence, Death, Yelling

Authors Note - One down 5 more to go

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

“Ma'am, he's not coming back.”

You stared in shock at the body on the side of the road. Your husband was laying dead a bullet wound in his chest and you couldn't do anything about it.

“Kook…. No…. Kook….”

The cop there had to physically drag you away. You crying and sobbing as you watched him get dragged away.

But that was a long time ago.

Sitting down in your therapists office had you in a daze, your mind on a constant loop of that night. Hands covering your tear stained eyes. “Miss Jeon, his death was over a year ago. Yet you can't seem to get past it. Why is that?” Your therapist commented as she sat in the chair in front of you.

“I miss him, he was my life. Jeon Jungkook was my everything.” You said looking down at your lap. “I sit in the house he saved up to buy for us and I'm just surrounded by him.”

“He was taken when you needed him most…”

“You know this… Why are you asking me this?” You say looking at her with a aggravated look on your face.

Your therapist let out a sigh before reaching into her desk. He then handed you a card. On the front read DEATH.

Deceased

Electric

Android

Therapeutic

Humanoid

“Take it. You need it. Call the number on the back and they'll set everything up.”

🤖

That's what led you to sitting in a random office. You came about 30 minutes before after setting up a appointment.

The entire building had this futuristic build to it. Every light had a light neon blue glow to them. And almost everything was automated through technology. Outside the large glass window and saw all sorts of people with androids in general. It was kind of creepy yet sad knowing what the company was for.

“Hello Mrs. Jeon. I heard about your situation.” You were pulled out of your gaze as a man in a sleek white lab coat walked in. His name tag read, Lead Scientist Mr. Yuen. “It's quiet, sad really. Having your husband taken from you at such a crucial part of the relationship.” He walked to sit behind the desk in front of you.

“Yes, so… what exactly do you guys do?” You ask trying to pull away from the topic of your husbands demise.

“Well,” He pulls out a hard drive, written on the front in sharpie the letters JJK. “This is your husband's entire consciousness. We'd gotten access to your husband's brain. Your lucky he was a organ donor.”

You could feel tears prick your eyes. Your husband was right there.

He was so close.

“We take this and put it into a android. That android is as close to a human as we could get it. Even the skin feels realistic. Height, weight, even a replica of all that junk down there. Practically a one to one ratio.” Mr. Yuen chuckles. “And this will cost nothing as our company is pretty new. We really just need people to say what we offer works.”

You were desperate. You do care anymore, it was something. You nodded as Mr Yuen smiled and placed a stack of paperwork in front of you. “He'll be ready for you in a few hours.”

🤖

You sat in a lounge area waiting patiently. You looked mindlessly through a magazine, trying to be as level headed as possible.

“Mrs Jeon!”

Your head shot up at the sound of your name being called. It took you a bit to stand up but when you did you were in shock.

There he stood.

The love of your life.

Jeon Jungkook.

“Baby?”

His voice sounded exactly the same. It was him. Your mind was clouded at being reunited with him, and all you could do was cry and run towards him. You hugged him, and you could feel him hug you back. His strength showed as he nearly crushed you.

“Okay okay you have to let go!” You said giggling. Jungkook did, him looking at you with nothing but love and adoration. You looked at the side of his forehead seeing a blue ring of light.

It reminded you of what this actually was. And how this wasn't actually him…

“It doesn't have to be there…” Jungkook said looking at your eyes on the led light. You watched in bewilderment as his skin tone covered the blue circular ring. “Is that better?”

You nod mindlessly as you take Jungkooks cheeks in your hands to kiss him.

It was quick but needed.

Even his lips were just as soft as Jungkooks.

Mr. Yuen stood off to the side and when he felt it was needed walked up to you to shake your hand.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you Mrs Jeon. If you have any issues please do call.”

🤖

Things started to go wrong almost a week into bringing him home. You were seated on the couch with him, going through a old photo album. You were pointing out memories the both of you had, trying to see if he had the memories of your lost love.

And he was struggling.

“Kook, baby… you don't remember this?” You said pointing towards your first date. He'd taken you to go to a book store. But He just stared at it trying to process what he saw but he just couldn't.

“I'm sorry. I can't… I don't remember.” Jungkook said putting his head into his hands. “I-I’m so sorry.” It sounded as if he was crying, which was something you didn't even know he could do. Then again he is supposed to be the closest thing to a human.

With a shakey hand you patted his back trying to comfort him. Then your wrapped your arms around him, kissing the side of his face. “It's okay. Trust me we'll get through this one step at a time. I should be apologizing, I tried forcing way too much onto you.” You say kissing the top of his head once again.

“I don't get it… I don't fucking get it.” He growled the grip on his head getting harsher. He then reeled his head back and slammed it into the coffee table. You quickly grab his shoulders to pull him back.

“Kook! Kook! Stop!” You yelled as he struggled against you, trying to punish himself. He then seemingly stopped, artificial tears cascading down his face.

“What happened…?” He asked looking at you with those same soft eyes you fell for.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

🤖

You spend about a month with your new android husband, his mood changes still existing. But you looked past them, and instead just tried to work with him.

Like now you two were on a date and Jungkook was a gentleman and his usual playful self.

“Honestly I like eating. It's something about all those textures in your mouth that just make the experience!” Jungkook stated describing eating as if it was the best thing in the world. But all you could do was laugh at his antics. You wish you had that much joy for living.

Jungkook stared at you dumbfounded. “What's so funny?” He said beginning to laugh with you.

“Your just, so amused by seemingly little things. It's kind of funny.” You reply smiling. This was almost reminiscent of how you and your actual husband were. That was until the waiter cam around for about the 5th time that night. Jungkook would get more angry by the minute anytime he was around. Like now, as Jungkook stopped laughing and side eyed the waiter as he passed the drinks. As soon as he left you spoke up, “Kook, baby you have to calm down.”

“I'm calm. He just needs to leave us alone.” He seethes under his breath.

Then the waiter returns.

And Jungkook shoots up, grabs his arm and begins to yell at him. “Leave us the fuck alone!” People gasp as the waiter groans out. “Man you're bruising me!” The waiter says trying to prey Jungkook off. You get up and grab his shoulder.

“Let go! Let go now!” You yell and Jungkook almost immediately retracts his grasp. Your left embarrassed, and finally state that this is the last straw as you leave in a hurry.

🤖

“Hi I was told to call this number if I something was wrong with my product.” You stood outside on the porch of your house.

“Ma'am. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do.” The receptionist replies. Your face furrows as you raise your voice.

“What? There's obviously something wrong, my husband has never acted this way. I need to talk Dr Yuen. Please!” You practically begged.

“Ma'am. DEATH company has ceased to exist. Too many bugs, and you seem to have one. I say either get rid of the product or live with it. Good day.” Then the phone hangs up.

The first option was out of the question.

You couldn't see him die again.

But you didn't know how much longer you could live with the android. His mood swings become more and more drastic every day.

With a heavy head and heart you walked back in, bumping into Jungkooks hard chest.

“You think something is wrong with me.” He said solemnly.

“Kook baby, no… you're just… I think….” You couldn't even muster up a excuse for him. “It's just that… your not… my husband…”

You tried to walk past him but he moved in your way. “I'm not? Then why do I have all these thoughts? Why do I consistently feel plagued by him?” He spat at you. You moved to one side and quickly went the other way around him. “My mind is filled with you! His thoughts about you … I'm him!”

“Calm down… Please! I'm- I didn't mean what I said!” You beg putting your hands up as a act of defense. Jungkook seethed grabbing at his hair. He moved it forcibly.

“Is it this?” He yelled showing the led ring on the side of his skull. “Is it the fact that your “husband” wasn't a robotic freak!” You quickly love your footing falling onto the carpet. You felt a sharp pain in your arm as your forced to drag yourself away.

In fear, you watched as Jungkook took to a nearby mirror throwing it to the ground. You screamed as glass shot near him everywhere. He picked up a sizeable piece and took it to the side of his head. “I can change… I will change…” He then began to cut at the piece, all the while stepping towards you. He yanked it out throwing the circle to the side.

Jungkook now stood over you.

“Am I like him now? Am I your perfect husband….” He taunted. You shake your head no as you cried beneath his form. He just smiled. “Your lying… and in denial. Look at that arm… you broke it. All because you tried to get away from me.”

“Your…. you're not my husband. Your a monster.” You said with finality. The pain in your arm made your vision spotty.

“No baby… I'm your love. And I'm not leaving anytime soon.”

Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63

655 notes · View notes

onepiece-polls · 1 year ago

Text

One Piece Shipping War - Bonus Poll!

The winner of the poly ship bracket vs the most popular (and honestly, only) Buggy ship of the duo bracket!

Propaganda under the cut. [contains some spoilers]

Propaganda for Cross Guild:

Idk there's something about three people who hate each other that just works.

they don't need no propaganda. I could never make propaganda like buggy the clown does in canon

mr. pathetic (buggy) paired with two actual warlords who could (but haven't !) demolished him ? it has to be love

Crocodile and Mihawk are a fucked up rich ass couple and Buggy is the chihuahua in their purse

CROSSGUILDCROSSGUILD XXX

Its cross guild. you know why (mod: as an anime-only fan, I don't, but I'm looking forward to find out 😂)

Propaganda for Shanks x Buggy:

What if we were childhood friends who gave up our drama for each other then never saw each other again for years

What can I say, I'm a fellow shuggy truther too 🤝

Shanks obviously adores Buggy, and Buggy is so tsundure~! Mr 'I hate Shanks'-but-will-take-every-opportunity-to-talk-about-him-and-be-with-him.

Oden says in his journal that he can't tell if they're friends of enemies, and I just love that. Plus when you add in the revelation about Shanks and Buggy in the recent chapters.

They're childhood friends. They're exes. They've been married for 20 years. They're opposites. They're the same. They're silly goofy guys who make me want to cry my heart out. Red/Blue is always meant to be.

Buggy """""HATES""""" Shanks. This hate is so strong that he WILL yell at this red-haired bastard despite the fact that he is a coward, who is terrified of all the Emperors. Everyone thinks this is strange. However, when you grow up with said Emperor on the same boat, watching him stumble over his feet as he's trying to learn to use a sword, stuck scrubbing the whole deck because he was stupid enough to prank "Dark King" Rayleigh, and make that same stupid pouty face every time his Conqueror's Haki doesn't do anything because he is an itty bitty child, most of that fear gets pretty quelled. Also, that same fucker lost an arm because he's a DUMBASS and he deserves to be made fun of for it (not because Buggy is worried and missed him not at all no no Shanks is just DUMB and needs to be TOLD he is dumb more. But just by Buggy. Because Buggy has known his idiocy forever. He has earned the right to yell at this stupid, stupid Emperor for being a self-sacrificing fool and for giving away that stupid hat and... Wait, hang on, when did this bastard get hot!? WHAT THE FUC-) And Shanks just keeps smiling at Buggy and his antics because he has 100% been in love with him since they were children (his actions while they were on the Roger pirates are the DEFINITION of pigtail-pulling as flirting) and he is just happy to see that he's safe while being exactly the same larger-than-life clown he always knew. He would gladly give up his life of sluttery (that I am convinced this man has. Just look at how he exists) if Buggy would just agree to join his crew, but will not push him if he doesn't want to. He just loves his pretty clown from a distance and waits. TLDR: Buggy is mad that he's in love with Shanks and Shanks just likes existing with and/or annoying Buggy (they come as a pair). GOD I just love childhood friends to lovers bro. Just let the cabin boys kiss.

[Spoiler Warning] Red and Blue gays! Emperor husbands! Childhood friends to enemies to lovers!

#op shipping war #one piece #shuggy #shaggy #cross guild #bonus polls

386 notes · View notes

mediocrecowboyhat · 23 days ago

Text

Set in sand - Chapter 17

We mark the year 1934 and a peculiar journal falls into your hands. It's telling the tale of an outlaw and the downfall of a gang. Some pages are torn and others are downright unreadable, but nevertheless, you are still able to make out some parts of the tragic story.

With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to save the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?

Previous chapter - Next chapter

Word count: 3.9k

TW: end-game spoilers will be mentioned very early on in the story, 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, violence, gore, death, misogynistic themes (anything that happens in the game as well), she/her pronouns

Note: An important part of this chapter is inspired by the wonderful and talented @pyersiki and their post <3

The next morning you feel lighter than ever and there is a certain spring to your step. A wide grin is glued to your face and it only gets bigger everytime you recall the events from last night. Sitting by the campfire with Arthur and having his arm wrapped around you is about the only thing you can think of at the moment.

"Someone's happy.", you hear Mary-Beth say with a smile. She's sitting comfortably on her bedroll, an opened novel in her lap. Her brown locks fall elegantly around her face, framing her soft features.

Karen isn't too far away either and she places her hands on her hips as she eyes you with a knowing smirk. "'Course she is! Shoulda seen her gettin' all cozy with Arthur last night durin' the party."

"Oh, I saw that, alright.", Mary-Beth confirms and clasps her hand over her mouth to mask the giggle escaping her. "I knew it from the start that they was sweet on one another."

The two women's teasing makes the heat rise up to your face and you shake your head in disbelief. You know better than to indulge their banter and you wave your hand at them. "As lovely as it is chatting with you, I gotta go now."

"Aw, don't be like that! Tell us all the juicy details at least!", Karen yells after you, but you ignore her completely. Yes, last night's actions confirmed that there is more going on between you and the outlaw, other than pure platonic feelings.

It also kind of feels like that his public show of affection kind of established something, but you don't want to jump to any conclusions. As official as it feels right now, you don't want to set any rumors free into the world as long as you haven't talked to him about what exactly you are.

Leaving camp was also not an excuse to get out of that uncomfortable conversation. Yesterday you didn't have the opportunity to get engravings for your new weapon and so you thought it would be good to get it done now. After Jack's return and the party, everyone is kind of slow and lazy today, so you won't be missed too much.

Mounting Penthesilea, you leave the camp and ride through the heavy morning fog. With this weather, it will take longer to reach the city, but that also means that there might not be too many people on the road.

So far it does look very empty and everything seems peaceful until you spot two men on the side of the road who are headed into the trees. Usually you wouldn't pay them any mind, but the green bandana around their necks makes your inner alarm bells ring.

Sure, any and every fool can wear that ugly shade, but you've never seen it on common folk. The wet dirt road dampens the sound of your horse's hooves and thanks to the fog, they haven't noticed you passing by. There is a slim chance that these men are just two ordinary people, but you want to make sure. Just in case.

You hitch Penthesilea at one of the trees and follow them on foot. The crouched position you're in makes your thigh muscles burn and your back cramp up slightly, but you fight through the pain.

"I just don't understand why we couldn't have ambushed them last night.", one of them says in a thick Irish accent. So they are O'Driscolls, but what are they doing here in Lemoyne? This isn't their territory at all.

"You heard the boss. We was to only get that two-faced traitor.", the other responds and you watch him disappear between the shrubs, leaving his partner behind. "I'll just take a piss."

"For Christ's sake.", the first one mutters aggravated and walks a few steps away from your hiding spot. Their words spin around in your head. Obviously they are talking about ambushing Dutch and the gang, but you have no idea who the traitor could be.

That's when you remember that you in fact do have a former O'Driscoll with you and now that you think about it, you don't remember seeing him after the party. Usually he's one of the first people to be up and about in the morning. We'll, there is only one way to find out.

Quietly you take your gun out of your holster and sneak up behind the first man. You ram the handle of your pistol into the back of his head and he falls into the mud with a wet sound.

One down, another to go.

"What the hell?!" You whip your body around, facing the man who re-apeared from the bushes without you noticing. While he fumbles to get the gun out of his holster, you lift the Volcanic and pull the trigger.

It's a clean shot through his chest and he comes down to his knees with a gurgling sound emanating from his throat. You really hope that no one has heard the gun shot, but there's no one living close by and the roads are quite empty today anyways.

Quickly you jog back to Penthesilea to get a rope and return to tie the unconscious O'Driscoll to one of the trees. You have to take care of the body as well, but that will have to wait. With a slap with the back of your hand, you wake the O'Driscoll up and he gasps.

"Fuckin' hell-" His words die down in his throat as you point the barrel of your pistol right between his eyes.

"What did you assholes do in our camp last night?", you ask, your voice cold and controlled. His gaze is fixed on your gun and he bares his teeth like a dog.

"None of your damn business.", he snarls and you strike him with your weapon. The man grunts in pain and blood runs down his face from the now open wound on his eyebrow. Your patience is wearing thin and you're not sure if you have the stomach to full on torture him.

Hopefully he will spill the answers willingly before it has to come to that. "I won't ask again."

The man's chest rises and falls heavily as he pants and he glares hateful daggers at you. A sigh escapes your lips as you step aside so he can have a clear view on his dead partner. A dark red puddle is beginning to form under him.

"Your friend over here also refused to give me answers.", you lie. Maybe intimidating him by threatening with death will do the trick. Anything is welcome as long as you don't have to take more violent and drastic measures. His eyes go wide once they fall on the other man and he shakes his head hastily.

"We was only to kidnap one man! That's all!", he cries out in panic and you push the barrel of your gun harshly against his temple.

"Kidnap who?"

"K-Kieran! Kieran Duffy!"

So you remember correctly! He indeed wasn't anywhere at the camp this morning. A sting of guilt pierces your chest at the fact that you didn't notice it sooner, but then again, the others didn't catch wind of it either. It's no use to beat yourself up over this right now though. What you need to focus on is getting him back.

"Where are you keeping him?", you ask, your gaze fixed on the man under you.

"I don't know!", he exclaims, rather desperate. Too desperate to be convincing and your expression turns sour. "And even if, he's probably dead by now or at least wishes that he is!"

"Don't play stupid with me now, boy. Do you wanna end up with a bullet in your head?" It's as if the words that are coming out of your mouth aren't yours, as if someone else is speaking through you. You're spending way too much time with outlaws.

To give your threat more weight, you disable the safety of your pistol and a high pitched click can be heard from it. The sound makes the O'Driscoll flinch and all resistance crumbles away like ashes being carried away by the wind. "Okay, okay, okay!"

He drops the location of their camp, including the exact spot Kieran is being held at and how many men are guarding him. This moron proves himself pretty cooperative with the right motivation.

Just as you're sliding your gun back into the holster and turn to walk away, he yells for you. "You can't just leave me here! Untie me!"

Letting him go would be a mistake. He'd either ambush you or run straight back to the others to warn them and then all your hard work was for nothing. But you don't want to kill him. It's your personal rule to only do that in self defense and well, he's tied up.

If you just leave him at the tree, then he will scream and curse until someone finds him which probably won't take too long. This spot is quite close to the road after all. After contemplating it for a few seconds, you grab a handkerchief from your pocket and shove it deep into his throat. He throws his head from side to side in a futile attempt to stop you.

The man let's out muffled grunts as you walk back to Penthesilea and you hoist yourself up onto the saddle. If anything he said is true, then you don't think you have the time to ride back to camp and get a group together to join you on your rescue mission. Knowing the O'Driscolls, they don't tend to show mercy, so you have to act fast.

You signal your horse to ride towards the location the man told you about and truly, there is a fire burning. It seems to be a camp and you hitch Penthesilea at one of the trees nearby. Finding yourself in a crouched position once again, you sneak closer, keeping watch for anyone coming your way.

Soon enough, you spot Kieran tied to a tree with his hands on his back and his head hanging down. It doesn't look like he's awake or maybe he's simply too weak to keep his head up. That's when you notice the alarming amount of dried up blood on his white shirt and your heart picks up in pace.

Thankfully, the fog provides more than enough cover, otherwise you wouldn't have been able to do this during daytime and you really didn't like the prospect of having to wait until nightfall. With a hunting knife in your hand, you begin to cut through the thick rope and Kieran finally lifts his head.

"What...?", he mutters and looks around until he sees you. A shiver runs down your spine the moment you catch a glimpse of his face and your mouth stands open in shock. One eye of his is completely missing and you fight down the urge to let out a startled yelp.

"Oh, what have these animals done to you?", you whisper horrified and you force your attention back to cutting him free. It only takes a couple seconds, but to you it feels more like several minutes.

Every muscle in your body is tensed up and your heart is practically beating in your throat. If you get caught now...quickly, you shake off these thoughts and grab Kieran's wrist to wrap his arm around your shoulders. While he leans on you as support, you stumble back to Penthesilea, undetected.

"You really came for me?", Kieran asks breathlessly in disbelief and you bite down on the inside of your cheek. You leave the fact that you didn't even notice his absence at first, unspoken.

"Of course.", is all you manage to bring out instead and you both climb ontop of your horse's back.

He clings to your coat like a lifeline and sways around so much that you have to be careful with speeding up. If you go too fast, he might just fall off. After a while, the silence becomes too unbearing for you and you ask the question that's been bugging you this entire ride. "How did they even get to you?"

Kieran doesn't respond at first and for a moment there you worry that he actually did fall off somewhere along the road. "I ain't so sure. I was piss drunk durin' the party last night."

You nod to yourself when hearing his words. You recall how later that night he came up to Arthur, telling him how happy he is to be a part of the gang. It makes you feel all the more guilty for not noticing that he was missing this morning.

People throw you puzzled looks as you get close to Shady Belle and enter the camp. Kieran almost slides off Penthesilea and you have to offer both your hands to him to help him down. Steps can be heard approaching you from behind and once the man is down, you turn around.

"My goodness, what happened?", Mary-Beth gasps in worry, but her expression quickly turns into one of horror the moment she gets a proper look at Kieran's face.

"Get bandages from Strauss' wagon and bring us some water.", you order without answering her question and bring Kieran to his tent.

As Mary-Beth returns with the things, more people join around you in curiosity and concern. Bill is the first to speak up. "What the hell happened to him?"

"The O'Driscolls got him last night. Overheard two of them talking on my way to Saint Denis.", you tell him over your shoulder as you focus on treating the man's eye or rather the lack of it.

"The O'Driscolls were here?", Javier exclaims, almost in disgust and hisses some insults and cursewords under his breath.

After your work is done, you get up from your position and go wash your hands in a barrel filled with water. Soon Dutch takes notice of the commotion outside and steps out of the house, demanding to know what's going on. You fill him in on what happened from when you left camp to now and he nods with a grim look on his face.

"That poor bastard.", he comments with his gaze set on Kieran's tent. Most of the people have left to give him some space, but others like Mary-Beth are staying behind, watching over him. "You did good bringin' him back to us. Well done."

"Thanks." Your answer comes out short and you place your hands on the edge of the barrel, observing your reflexion. The woman staring back at you has dark rings around her eyes and a few blood splatters across her face. It's like looking at a stranger.

A new presence shows up beside you, less welcoming than Dutch's and you don't even want to turn your head in their direction. Micah leans with his back against the wall of the large house and spits on the ground. "Ain't you the hero of the day again?"

"What do you want, Micah?", you ask, wanting to sound irritated or at least mildly annoyed, but there is nothing besides exhaustion in your voice. The man snorts.

"Ain't it funny how you somehow always manage to arrive right on time? Somethin' goes to shit and you're right there to save the day. Ain't that convenient?" His words are oozing with both venom and suspicion and you close your heavy eyes.

"Are you trying to say something or are you just talking nonsense?" A voice inside your head is telling you to back off, that this isn't a battle you should be fighting, but you're tired.

The energy from this morning has left you entirely by now and this conversation is only making things worse for you. Micah raises his hands and pushes himself off the wall. "Nah, just statin' what I'm seein', is all."

With these words he finally leaves you alone and you make your way to your tent. Perhaps your accomplishment of bringing back a gang member from the clutches of the O'Driscoll will get people off your back. That way you could rest for an hour or so without anyone complaining.

Before you even make it to your bedroll, you hear the quick sound of hooves approaching and you look up to see Arthur, Miss Grimshaw and Tilly. The first two look quite angry and so does Tilly, but she seems to be a bit shaken up as well.

Curiosity gets the better of you and your legs carry you to the small group. "What happened?"

"Anthony Foreman, that bastard.", Tilly snarls, spitting her words out like venom. You remember her mentioning him and his gang a while ago, telling you that she used to ride with them. She didn't say how they fell out, only that it happened.

"They took her.", Miss Grimshaw adds and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. This is the second abduction for today and you shake your head at the realization. Seems like getting kidnapped is more common in this line of work than ending up with a bullet in your chest.

It also seems like the security around here should be improved. No way should this many gangs be able to just waltz in here and snatch people away without anyone catching wind of it. Your worried gaze is set on Tilly and you pull her into a hug. "I'm happy that you got out of there."

"Me too...me too.", she mutters in a low voice and slowly pulls away from the embrace.

As the two women make their way towards the tents, you feel Arthur's warm hand on your back. "You don't look too well."

A dry laugh escapes you and you give him a smirk that doesn't reach your eyes. "Well, aren't you a charmer?"

Your response earns a low chuckle from him and he starts rubbing circles on your back. "You know that wasn't what I meant." Of course you know, but you have no idea where to begin.

You repeat to him what you've been telling everyone else, but intentionally leave out the last bit with Micah. There is no reason to pit Arthur against the man at the moment and you'd appreciate a little break.

Being as exhausted as you are makes you feel bad. Kieran is the one who got kidnapped and not you. He went through a shit ton of pain and you don't feel like you deserve to feel this tired. A sigh escapes your lips as you rub your eyes with the palm of your hand.

"You should lay down." Arthur's words get another dry chuckle out of you and you shake your head. Yes, it was your plan to lay down on your bedroll, but you don't know how much rest that will bring you with everyone being out and about. "I don't know if I can."

"How about a bed? A real one.", the outlaw suggests and you raise your eyebrow in disbelief as if he just told you a dumb joke.

"I don't really feel like booking a hotel room just for a nap is a good idea.", you answer and cross your arms infront of your chest.

He takes off his hat, revealing his hazel colored hair and runs a hand through it. "I was thinkin' that you could use mine."

Now that comes as a surprise to you and your arms fall down to your sides, but you catch yourself quickly. A teasing smirk begins to take form on your lips. "Mr. Morgan! Are you trying to get under my skirt?"

Barking laughter erupts from his throat and he raises his hands in defence. "That weren't what I meant. I thought maybe you'd wanna rest in it, away from all the noise."

His offer is sweet and you're about to take it as well until Karen walks up to you from the side with some paper in her hand. "I got a letter from Mary Linton here."

"Mary?", Arthur asks in disbelief and goes to grab the letter, but Karen snatches it away. Both you and the outlaw look at her with puzzled expressions which only intensifies after she holds it out to you instead.

"It's for me?", you confirm with furrowed brows and slowly take the letter from her, afraid she might snatch it away again. When she doesn't, you read the name on the envelope and yes. It is in fact addressed to you.

As Karen leaves, Arthur steps closer to you, searching for your gaze. His eyes keep flickering from you to the letter and then back to you. "What does Mary want from you?"

"I don't know. I mean, I saw her the other day in Saint Denis."

"She's in Saint Denis?", he exclaims, almost interrupting you and runs his hand over his beard. "When?"

You study him thoroughly, trying to read the meaning behind his tone and expression, but you can't decipher it. Clearly he's quite floored, but you can't tell if it's in a good or bad way. "Right after you left the gunsmith. Her and I went for a drink."

"So y'all are friends now? Since when?"

His question makes you take a step back and the corners of your mouth curl up. "Are you worried or something?"

Arthur's answer comes shooting out like a bullet and it's as clear as daylight that he did not intend to do that. "No!" He takes a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders and putting on a casual mask. "'Course not. I don't care 'bout the company you keep."

"Sure." You drag out the word as long as you can, you're voice oozing with sarcasm. Then your gaze falls on the letter in your hand again. "Do you want to know what's in there?"

It's obvious that he's beyond curious about the contents of her letter. It's written all over him, but much to your surprise, he shakes his head. "No, 's alright. This is your business and I won't stick my nose into it. Not more than I already do."

"I'm serious, Arthur. I really wouldn't mind."

"I'm serious too." His features are relaxed, not betraying a single thought or emotion. His eyes on the other hand tell a different story. You can see that there's a conflict within him, but can you blame him? You too would be quite stunned if an ex of yours would suddenly write to him.

Mainly because they exist several years in the future from now and it would be quite the astonishing news, finding out that they can travel through time as well. Arthur places his hat back on his head and tips it in your direction. "I'll leave ya to it then."

Before you can even think of protesting, he walks away and with a sigh you go to find a quiet spot to read. The handwriting inside is just as delicate as the one on the envelope and your eyes trail over the words.

My dear friend,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to thank you again for helping me with Jamie and for the nice chat we had at the saloon. It was very kind of you to walk me back to the hotel. I just wish that the reason for this letter was a happier one.

You might have noticed during our conversation that something was troubling me and seeing how you handled the drunk man made me want to confide in you. I am certain that you're very capable and can handle yourself.

I am afraid that we have got ourselves into another mess. It's not my fault, but I need your help. Could you meet me at Hotel Grand when you have the time?

Sincerely,

Mary

Taglist: @shackspossum @abducted-cowz @heloixe

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #set in sand

32 notes · View notes

apomaro-mellow · 9 months ago

Text

Hot for Teacher(s) 10

Part 9

Shawn tried not to think too hard about his dad and his teacher dating. He knew his family was a little different than the others. Most people had two parents. But he’d never ask for his sire to show up. Never in a million years. He still remembered how bad it got.

It made him a little wary of Mr. Munson. He didn’t think he’d ever hit his father. But sometimes pain wasn’t physical. Even when Billy hadn’t put his hands on Steve, the yelling had been horrible too. But Steve had been in love. And there had been a time when Billy cared for him. He’d told Shawn so.

Shawn couldn’t believe it. People in love didn’t do that kind of thing. People in love did things like go out on dates, gave each other gifts and scented each other nicely.

Like how Shawn could smell Mr. Munson on his dad. He probably wouldn’t have been able to tell who it was if not by his powers of deduction. They’d been sitting on his bed, his dad reading him a bedtime story. He didn’t bring up the scent, or how it made him feel nice. He just hoped Mr. Munson would stay around a while.

“Are you and Mr. Munson in love?”

Steve fumbled with the basketball in his hands and Shawn used the opportunity to steal it from him and go for a shot. He missed, but getting a steal from his dad was still nice.

“He and I are…dating, as you know”, Steve said, grabbing the ball as it bounced his way. “I think it’s a little too soon to be using words like ‘love’.”

“He’s over here a lot”, Shawn said.

Steve didn’t know how much he should read into that. Was Shawn saying he didn’t like Eddie being around so much? Did he feel like someone else was taking time away from Steve? It was hard to tell with his son sometimes what he was thinking.

“How come you always make me go out when he’s over?”

“I don’t always-”

“I know you’re going on a date every time I have a sleepover. And I’ve been having a lot of sleepovers lately.” Shawn’s expression was a little too mature for a child his age.

“First, don’t interrupt, it’s rude. Second, I thought you liked having sleepovers.”

“I do. I just don’t know why you don’t want me around Mr. Munson. I see him all day at school.”

Steve kept his body language nonchalant while dribbling the ball. “Well that’s just it. I figured you’d be sick of him. He’s at school AND at home?” He shot and the ball went right in.

“If I score more than you, can we get ice cream?”

“Shawn, it’s January.”

“I want chocolate with gummy bears.”

Steve was still thinking of it a few days later when he had sent Shawn on yet another sleepover while he, Eddie, and Robin got drunk and gave powerpoint presentations on a subject of their choice. Robin was about ten slides deep into one about why TV shows sucked on writing lesbians on purpose but somehow made the most compelling character chemistry on accident.

At first, he’d been sitting close to Eddie, legs in his lap, playing with his hair but Steve had learned that Eddie never sat still for long. Every few slides, he’d jump up with an interjection and Steve knew if he didn’t want to flop off the couch, he’d better not get too tangled.

Robin was very open to discussion. Heated discussion but still. Steve finally cleared his throat when they started getting closer, hands moving wildly as they argued about the sexuality of Sandy the Squirrel.

“Hey, it’s Powerpoint Night, not debate night”, Steve said.

Robin gasped. “Steve! Can we have debate night. We finally have a third party to mediate.”

“What do you guys need a mediator for?”, Eddie asked.

“She has very strong opinions on salted caramel”, Steve said. “Your turn Eddie.”

Eddie got up, his presentation popping up as he cleared his throat. “Pluto’s Planet Status: Logic vs Sentimentality….”

Robin stayed the night, taking up the guest bed while Eddie went up to Steve’s room. He’d been inside before, but it always felt momentous. A space that not many had seen before and Steve was allowing him. They collapsed next to each other, limbs tangling through the night.

The next day, they got up, making a breakfast of sausage, eggs, and other greasy things to stave off any hangover symptoms. And before Eddie left, Steve asked a favor of him.

“Do you…mind scenting some of the pillows? Not for me, but for Shawn? I want to gauge his reaction to the idea of you becoming more…permanent.”

Eddie’s eyes got wide. “Do you want me to be more permanent?”

Steve bit his lip and nodded, moving in close to scent Eddie at his neck. “You’ve always smelled like safety to me. And now…you’re starting to smell like home.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around him, confirming that he felt the same. He wanted more of Steve’s scent around his own home. Eddie completed the favor, scenting the soft throw pillows on the couch.

When Shawn got home, he had Steve spent most of the day inside, doing various things but when the sun set, they had a movie night. Steve tried not to look too giddy when Shawn grabbed one of the pillows and held it to his chest, nose pressed to it. His body language may have been neutral, but the happiness must’ve shown in his scent because Shawn started to cuddle up to him. His omega hindbrain was filled with thoughts he hadn’t allowed for a long time.

Good alpha. Safe. Perfect alpha. Perfect for pup. Need to scent pup. Need him scented by both.

That was all Steve needed to move things up to the next step. He enacted it when picking Shawn up from school one day. He was mindful not to take up too much of Eddie’s time during dismissal, but Eddie always assured Steve that he’d rather talk to him than the other parents.

“What if you’ve got something important to tell them?”

“That’s what emails are for. And really, how many times can I say ‘your kid cried because someone looked at them’ or ‘ they’re chattier than a telemarketer’?”

Steve figured some things about being a teacher didn’t change all that much between the age groups. He built up his nerves to ask the question. He had already asked Shawn if it was okay and his pup was more than happy about it.

“You know, Shawn’s birthday is coming up soon. We usually go out and do whatever he wants. And we were wondering if you wanted to tag along?”

Eddie looked between them both, mouth agape and looking like he wanted to jump for joy, hug them both, and blast off like a rocket all at once. It really made Steve want to kiss him in front of all these people, parents, teachers and all.

“Hell yeah-I mean, y-yeah”, Eddie stuttered when he remembered where he was.

Shawn looked elated too and things couldn’t be more right.

And of course, that was when things started going wrong.

Part 11