#gonna take me a bit to get back out it seems

[jji-lee]

nerd jisung first time getting head

(MDNI)

nerd jisung x hot girl reader ofc , library head , whiny ji , loud ji , squirmy ji , sensitive ji , virgin ji , jisung's first time getting head , reader is more experienced , shy ji , snowballing haha guys hear me out , he immediately nuts. , reader is understanding , he’s wearing those thick framed glasses , big brained anon idea !

“are- are you sure about this?”

you slipped your hand under his shirt a small giggle escaping your lips,

“why not ji? don’t tell me you’re backing out now?”

He squirmed under your touch, eyes peeking through the bookshelves of the library,

“n-no of course not, just- just what if we get caught?”

He whined softly as you planted a wet kiss on his cheek, his knees buckling gently

“Then you’re just gonna have to be quiet, right ji?”

clearly it seemed like jisung couldn't follow simple instructions, whining at every touch.

"jisung please lower your voice."

"fuck- feels good, 'm sorry."

you smiled into his neck, tongue poking out to trace his tense muscles, his grip on your hips deadly.

"please, too much, gonna cum."

your hand slipped past the waistband of his sweats, reaching in to hold onto his hot length. he let out a gasp, reaching for your hand to stop you,

"already ji? we haven't even gotten to the best part."

you giggled as he bit his lip, hiding the whine that threatened to slip out as you got on your knees in front of him, hands pulling down his sweats just enough to release his length. he was huge, length slapping against his stomach as you released him the his confines,

“you’ve been hiding this all this time?”

he pushed up his glasses as he looked down at you letting out a huff as you grabbed his length, the sight of your small hand wrapped around him making his stomach clench. jisung knew he wouldn’t last long, he hid his face behind the sleeve of his oversized hoodie watching you give kitten licks to his leaking tip.

“‘m not gonna last, please.”

his muffed voice was whiny, a smirk growing on your face as you planted a kiss to his tip,

“please what ji? what do you want me to do?”

he sighed as you removed your hands from him, placing them neatly on your lap as you waited for his next move. he moved his sleeve away from his face revealing his flushed cheeks, lips swollen from biting them.

you watched the definition of his veins as he rolled up his sleeves, hand coming forward to cup your face. he ran his thumb against your plump lips. you looked up at him innocently as you parted your lips, his thumb now grazing your teeth.

“stick your tongue out.”

you were quick to comply, core growing impossibly wetter as he removed his thumb from your mouth, instead using his index and middle finger to rub your tongue. he pushed them towards the back of your mouth, groaning as you swallowed around the tips of his fingers.

“fuck you’re dirty.”

he wiped at the slight fog that had built up in his glasses from all his heavy breathing wanting to get a better look as he dragged his fingers against your tongue, pulling them out of your mouth. his shaky hand gripped his length as he pressed his leaking tip against your parted lips. you waited patiently as he tapped his length against your mouth, stopping to rub his precum on your lips.

his face was priceless, eyebrows knit together tightly, lips parted into a silent moan. you backed away from his length,

“baby, you can fuck my mouth, i won’t bite, unless you want.”

you chuckled softly as he shook his head, releasing his length so you can take over, moving his hands to grip the roots of your hair instead. you held him tightly, opening your mouth wide to fit him all.

you took as much of him as you could into your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat as you swallowed around him, lips wrapped tightly around his length.

maybe it was your fault for being impatient, or maybe you teased him too much from the start. you clenched your eyes tightly as you felt his warm cum spurt into your mouth. a whiny moan leaving jisung’s mouth as he hunched over, grip on your hair tightening.

“oh my- oh my god. y/n i’m so sorry. i’m so- oh my god.”

the feeling of his orgasm was quick to fade, embarrassment taking over immediately. he dropped down to his knees, now eye level with you as he leaned into kiss you roughly, warm hands cupping your face. he ignored the salty taste of himself on your mouth, kissing you deeply before planting light pecks all over your face,

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry please, please don’t be mad, i should’ve said something-”

you giggled as he continued to kiss your face, his pants still around his thighs as he kneeled in front of you,

“sto-stop, okay okay! jisung it’s okay please, i’m not mad!”

he backed away from you, his glasses on the tip of his nose, revealing his soft eyes,

“you’re not mad?”

you shook your head, hands coming to fix his glasses.

“of course not ji-”

you smirked up at him,

“buttt, if you’re really sorry i have a couple ideas on how you could make it up to me.”

you looked down to see jisung’s length twitch slightly, a nervous cough coming from his lips,

“i-i think that’s a good idea, but maybe we should find another place.”

he lifted a nervous finger pointing past the bookshelves, you turned your head, eyes meeting the look of an annoyed studying student.

yeah maybe it’s best to take this somewhere else.

[dumblilb]

I don’t wanna talk

Vi x Bartender!Reader

(Synopsis: Vi’s been having a hard time recently. You decide to give her a little relief.)

(Warnings: !SMUT MDNI!, lesbian sex, Sub!Vi, oral (both!r), thigh riding (vi!r), strap (vi!r), begging, mentions of alcohol, profanity, crying from overstim, a little angst but not really, kinda fluff)

(Requested: Yes)

(Word count: 2,823)

* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚★。*

As her newly dark hair falls over her eyes all she could think about was how angry she was. It hadn’t even quite hit her yet why. Maybe it was her bruised knuckles, and the way they made her hands look so ruff against your skin. Or the fact that the lights were blinding her eyes. But as she looked up at you over the bar counter, she knew she had one thing to be surely mad at. You were gonna probably gonna send her home.

She held your forearm with a small bit of pressure. Putting the drink you were making for your final customer of the night on pause.

“Please. I need a drink. Just one.” Vi pleads. She looks tired. Her shoulders are slightly slouched and her eyes look sullen. You can’t help but sigh. This is the third night this week you’ve denied her service. Normally you can’t help but place down another beer for a drunkerd. A few extra dollars in your pocket from some rando isn’t the worst thing in the world. But when it’s your friend that’s when it gets complicated.

“Vi, I’m off in a minute. Just let me finish making this and you can come with me back to mine. Okay?” You smile softly. Her grip on your arm loosens and she looks at you for a second, debating her answer. Did she really want you to take her home and put her to bed. Her eyes flicker to the softness in your eyes. And the way your chest moved delicately up and down while you breathed. Actually that doesn’t sound like a bad idea right now. Maybe she wasn’t that upset after all.

“Fine. Just-“ She breathes out heavy, hanging her head. “Don’t make me wait too long.” She lets up on your arm and walks over to the exit waiting for you. You can’t help but stare at her as you clean up and clock out. Her jacket is slung over her shoulder. The fabric molding to the sweat covered muscles of her back. Like an unruly child she scrapes her large leather boots across the floor back n forth. Almost in protest of you testing her level of patience.

You walk over to her and she gives you a slight tinge of a smile as she wraps her arm around your shoulders.

“You’re getting sweat on me.” You grimace. She just places a peck on your cheek with a stuck up grin.

“You love it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to give you that impression.” You roll your eyes. But the undeniable smile covering your face gives her the courage she needs for the night.

The walk home was quick since you live not too far. Which vi was pleased about. The second you unlocked the door she pulled you into your own home, leading you to your room.

“What the hell are you doing.” You can’t help but laugh.

“Nothing I just wanna talk.” She says sitting down on your bed. Discarding her boots and jacket to the floor.

“Talk?” You question. You’re used to her flirting. She’s done it her whole life. She’s never really not been a charmer. But ever since she started doing those pit fights and coming to find you at the bar afterwards, it’s been a little intense. She started coming as a way to see you. She’d buy a drink. Chat you up. Get turned down. And she’d buy another. You could tell she was just sad and lonely. So you didn’t really give the idea of it the time of day. But as the drinking became more intense you got worried. She only seemed to become more upset the more times you sent her on her way. Beer in hand. You’d started to think you definitely fucked up. And she wasn’t joking around.

“Can’t remember the last time we talked about anything other than how bad you want me.” You tease, trying to keep the energy light. Maybe just this once. You’d try and see how this goes.

“You know I’ve had a really shitty day. Lost my match. And the only thing that’s made me feel better is the sight of you. You seem to have that effect on me recently.” She states as you sit down next to her. She leans to rest her head down softly on your shoulder. You don’t quite know how to react to what she’s just said. Her breath is hitting your skin sending a shiver down your back. You go to rest your hand to her cheek bringing her to face you, but she pulls back almost like a flinch. You ease her in closer.

“I don’t think I wanna talk right now.” You whisper, leaning in slightly to close the gap. She almost gasps at the contact but finds composure and melts into the kiss. All she could think about for weeks was how you would feel against her. If your lips were soft or if your eyelashes would flutter against her cheeks. But nothing could have prepared her for how heavenly you would feel.

The softness of your lips had her entranced as she pulled you in for more. Leaning into you making you fall back on your arms, deeper into your bed. She parts for a second, taking in your face. The way your eyes dart from hers to her lips. The way they your lips stay open slightly. Like they’re inviting her back in. You take the chance and kiss her again. Guiding her body up into a sitting position. Practically straddling your hips. You place a hand to her chest, feeling up to her neck. You could feel her heart racing under your touch. Deep breaths wracked her body as you fiddled with the wraps around her torso.

“Can I?” You question and she continues to kiss you, moving down your neck.

“Please.” She exhales and you start removing them. Much too slow for her taste. She’s antsy, nipping at your skin as you work. You finally get it off and take a second to admire her. She beautiful. Her skin is pale but it glimmers with sweat as she pants. You run your fingers over her chest, caressing her softly making her look at you nervously. What if you didn’t like them. What if-

“God you’re fucking perfect.” You exclaim quietly, placing soft kisses upon them. Her head falls back as you enclose on of them in your mouth. Putting your tongue to work, rolling over her nipple gently with your other hand.

Her hand grips your thigh tightly as a way to cope with the new sensation. She runs her other over your head till you pull back. She looks at you slightly confused till you begin removing your top, making her eyes go wide. The black bra still covering your chest doesn’t keep her from gawking. She slides off your lap for a second, hastily removing her own black jeans leaving her in just a pair of boxers in front of you. Her happy trail on display. Scooting forward you grab her hand placing it on your own pants. Giving her permission to remove them.

She bends down in front of you, sliding them over your hips and down your legs. Running her fingers up your thighs she starts to spread them apart, but you urge her back onto your lap.

“You said you had a bad day? Let me make you feel good.” You breathe into her ear, teasing her boxers off with your fingertips. Which she is now eagerly ripping off. Placing her, now noticeably wet, core down on one of your thighs. You grip her hips with a bit of force. Guiding them in a back in forth motion. She lets out a soft grunt as she slowly picks up the pace. Resting her head in the crook of your neck, she sloppily places small pecks to your collar bone. Her hands gripping your waist to keep steady.

Each motion she made caused a moan to leave her lips. They started quiet but as her legs became shaky you’d remind her how good she was doing. You rock your leg up into her, making the whining become louder. Her voice barely sounding legible between gasps, as she pleads with you.

“Fuck! I- I can’t…” She lets out, whipping her head back. You just smile at her softly. You roll over onto the bed, bringing her under you. Her hair falling back out of her face, leaving you with her wide eyed expression. She’s confused as to why you stopped her from finishing, till you get down on your knees beside the bed. Pulling her legs towards you and resting them on your shoulders. Her toned thighs clenched around you in anticipation as you leave little kisses to the area.

She’s starts to get needy, grinding her hips upward towards your lips when you grip her tightly. Looking up at her flushed face. Any makeup she was wearing earlier was fully smudged off and beads of sweat dripped down her abs as her deep breaths made each one flex just a little. It makes your brain spin a little as she looks at you with softness. Eyes pleading with you. Practically begging for relief.

“Please-“ She starts to say when you run your tongue through her folds. Her whole body melts into the bed. Each dip into her making her squirm as you work your way to her clit. Tonguing it with swift motion. Loud grunts leave her lips as she grips your head trying to push you in closer. She wants more. Which is fine. You have much more to give.

Coming up for air you slightly knock her hand out of the way. You begin holding her hips up with nothing but your own strength. Her legs fully over your shoulders. She tries to help by holding herself up with her forearms. But as you begin sucking on the sensitive area she gives up. An echoing moan leaves her as her core starts to tense up. Gripping your sheets tightly, she holds her eyes closed. Almost embarrassed to face you like this. Weak and to your will.

Her hips start to twitch. And before you could even prepare she’s a mess under you. Her release covering your mouth. She lays there panting for a minute while you gently set her down. Leaving wet kisses up her body, till you’re lying against her. Bringing her lips you yours, letting her taste herself. She holds you tight as if scared you would leave. Bitting slightly at your lips. Just enough to claim her stake. Her hand falls to your underwear line and she starts to inch closer to your core. You couldn’t help but peek to see the way her tattoos flowed with her muscles at each movement.

Moving your hips forward you allow her to start softly running her fingers through your folds. A small murmur of pleasure creeps out making her smile into the kiss. Applying light pressure she moves in circular motions, moving her kisses down your neck. Nipping at it slightly. The louder you get the faster she goes. The restriction of your panties upsets her so she takes a pause to slide them off and gets right back to it.

You place your hand on hers and guide it down to your entrance. She understands quickly and moves to be more on top of you. Holding one of your thighs down slightly with her leg. Holding herself up with one of her arms, her other glides its first finger into your core gently. She hesitates for a moment before you impatiently buck your hips, letting her know it’s okay to start moving.

She starts gingerly. Nervous almost. But as you whisper words of encouragement under your breath she starts to pick up the pace. Each thrust making you squirm under her. As her speed increases you bring one of your own hands down to massage your clit. The feeling of another finger entering makes a warmth start building in your stomach. Vi grunts as she continues. Her eyes not leaving you. The way your chest moves at her motions could make her drool. She starts to curl her fingers upward inside you and your pace becomes faster. But it’s sloppy, and a lack of composure becomes apparent.

“Fuck! Vi don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.” You say stern, even in your current state. Your legs start to shake under her and with a last pump the feeling in your stomach releases making your whole body tense against her. She slowly starts to remove her fingers, placing them in her mouth to lick them clean. Under heavy lids you look at her with a smirk. She liked the way you tasted. You could see it on her face. She was pussy drunk.

Sitting up you move to reach under the bed. Grabbing what you need from the box you kept there. She looks at you curious till you bring it into her view. The hot pink strap, now sitting on your lap, makes her eyes go wide.

“Do you want me too..” She starts but as you get up and start to tighten it around your hips, she understands. “Oh!”

“Is this okay?” You check walking towards her position at the edge of the bed. She nods her head rapidly making you chuckle a bit. Pink dusting over her cheeks as you stand between her legs. Cupping her face you rub your thumb across her tattoo, taking in the way she looks. Even in the dark her powder blue eyes sparkle. Her hair can’t help fall slightly in the way of her view. Which in this moment is not something she’s fond of. She wants to see you.

Leaning down, you delicately leave a kiss to her forehead. Grabbing her hand in the process. You pull her up to stand in front of you.

“Turn around.” You muse and she looks at you a little confused, following instructions anyways. The sight of her tattoo covering her back makes you take a deep breath. God she’s so fucking hot. You rub your hands down her back, tracing each line of ink. She shivers slightly under your touch reminding you of what you were doing in the first place. Bending her over, she places her knees and hands down onto the bed and braces herself. Climbing up to bring your pelvis to her ass, you position yourself.

Caressing her hips softly you question “ready?” And you see her nod.

Pushing the tip of the strap in slowly you let her get accustomed to the feeling. A audible moan leaves her and you place a kiss to her back. Finding yourself a rhythm you begin thrusting into her. Slow at first, not to scare her. But then she started begging for it.

“Please! Faster.” She groaned, spreading her legs a bit wider. Which allowed for you to go deeper. Your thighs hitting her ass making as slapping noise echo in the room. But it was hard to hear over the loud whines that escapes her mouth. She can’t help but curse your name as you apply some pressure to her back, making her arch deeper. Holding her hips tightly to secure the motion. Her arms give out and her torso becomes flesh with the sheets. Arms up above her head. She turns slightly back to look at you. Reaching under you start to rub her off while continuing to slam into her.

“Holy shit!” She exclaims trying to hide her face behind her arm, but you stop her.

“Pretty girl, I need you to look at me.” You smile and she moves her arm. Small tears gather in her eyes from the overstimulation on her pussy. You get concerned for a second but when her legs start to twitch a little she practically begs for you to go harder. It only takes a few more pumps before her legs give out and you can feel warmth covering your hand. Easing out of her, you pull out and remove the strap from your hips.

She lays there, body sprawled out across your bed. Her eyes are closed but she has a grin adorning her face. A slight flush on her skin apparent. Quickly placing a kiss to her shoulder, you get up to grab a damp towel. Coming back to sit next to her.

“Come here.” You bring her closer to begin wiping her down. Cleaning her off. She looks up at you with a grin. She puts a hand to your cheek, pulling your lips down to hers. The kiss is gentle and needy. She just wants to feel you. Resting her forehead to yours she sighs.

“You okay?” You question, caressing her arm softly.

“My day just got a whole lot better.”

[nuemanfilms]

sam x bimbo reader pleaseeee

BREAK || S.W

Summary; Dean goes out on a food run, and Sam needs a break.

Content Warnings; PWP, piv, riding, praise, dirty talk, breeding kink, bimbo!fem!reader, soft!dom!sam, reader wears pink lace and has manicured nails, slight biting, brief finger sucking, this is just porn sorry.

A/N; i’m so fucking obsessed with bimbocore and sam pls, this is 500+

xoxo, roro <3

Dean was out on a food run. The stack of papers that littered the motel table were now scattered and discarded. Sam had his head buried in research for what seemed like hours. You eventually moved from the bed to then sit on his thigh, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you still.

You couldn’t stay still though… his thigh bounced every once in a while directly up against your core. Causing your pretty, lace panties to just end up getting soaked with arousal. Your whines and pleas for Sam to give you some attention finally didn’t go ignored.

He knew you wanted him to have a break, and he knew he needed one too.

Your pink, lace panties were pulled to the side as Sam’s hands moved you up and down on his length. You were bouncing up and down like a sweet little bunny rabbit as your head tossed back giving him access to start mouthing at your neck. Your sounds fueled his ego, and the way you were squeezing his cock was telling him how you enjoyed it.

“God, Baby… y’pussy’s squeezing me- fuckin’ love this, don’t ’cha?” His raspy voice stuttered a bit. Your manicured fingernails scratching at his back had him groaning into your neck. He bit down hard before soothing the mark with his tongue. His emerald eyes darted from where his cock was moving in and out of your cunt to how your lips were parted.

Breathy moans left you which were soon cut off by two of Sam’s fingers shoving into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around them almost instantly. Sam’s left hand still gripped your hip tightly. You were fucking soaking his dick, your arousal dripping down to his pants that he wore. Which he previously tugged down just enough so he could shove himself inside of you.

“Sammy- I can’t, ngh.. I can’t- please.. t-too much-“ Your voice was broken, whimpers spilling just after you stuttered out that sentence. Sam had a cocky grin on his face, watching each time he nearly pulled out, his cock coated with your wetness.

“Y’got it, Honey. See? You’re taking it inside of this pretty pussy so well..” He praised, you let out a ‘mmph’ sound. The lewd noise of his dick slamming in and out of your cunt was vulgar. But so fucking hot, especially just looking at the way your bodies entwined.

“C’mon… don’t stop, keep riding it- that’s it, Pretty girl. Love shoving it inside this little hole s’much..” His dirty talk had your nails digging further into his clothed skin, leaving deeper marks. But it didn’t make him flinch, god, it made him feel the exact opposite. Knowing he was the one fucking you in half, knowing he was the one who got to stuff that pretty little cunt with his cum? It was euphoric.

“You’re so deep, Sammy… s’deep inside me- mm, can’t wait to have y’ cum in m’pussy..” Your brain was practically mush. All you knew was how Sam felt… how he was feeling. You only knew him.

He let out a groan again, “Yeah? You know ‘m gonna fill you up good, Sweetie. Get you all nice and leaking f’ me…”

[lovedrruunk]

‘Don’t be the one to break my fall

In which Jinx shows up to your doorstep looking like shit… she’s had a long night.

*this was written wayy before season 2 and is supposed to take place after she got resurrected by Singed .·°՞(≧□≦)՞°·.

You shivered a little as your feet landed on the cold floor. Turning to look at your alarm clock you groaned in annoyance. ‘2:00 AM, seriously?…’

You had been sound asleep cuddled up with your pillows just a few seconds ago, but that was before you were woken up by the persistent knocking of your front door. You tried ignoring it the first time… and the second… and maybe the third, but to your despair whoever was at your door was clearly stubborn.

So now here you were, sighing as you dragged your feet across the floor of your small home, making your way towards the door.

Standing on your tip toes to look through the peephole, your brows furrowed as you saw a familiar shade of blue. Hurrying to unlock the door you couldn’t help but groan again wondering what trouble she’d gotten herself into this time. But even the little bit of anger you had felt vanished the second you laid eyes on her.

There outside your front door stood Jinx. It wasn’t atypical for her to drop by at odd hours of the day, looking rough and nagging you to patch her up and kiss all her wounds better, but this? This was different.

Scratches, bruises, dark veins, cuts that seemed to have magically healed overnight, and weirdest of all, her eyes were a bright violet.

She stood still with her arms wrapped around herself. Her braids being blown by the wind, eyes avoiding your gaze. You snapped out of it when you felt your body shiver from the cold.

“So are you gonna let me in or are you just gonna stand and stare?” She asked softly. “I’m freezing out here.”

She spoke with a happy tone, but you couldn’t shake off how defeated she sounded. How exhausted and drained she looked.

Stepping to the side allowing her in, your eyes still fixated on her as she walked past you to lazily flop down on your couch. Usually you'd scold her for it, knowing her tendency to leave cushions and sheets dirtier than she found them, but this time you figured the cushions were the last thing in need of your attention right now…

You watched her let out a shaky sigh, sinking into the couch. Making your way towards her, you sat down slowly not wanting to startle her. Her eyes were shut with her brows furrowed, looking deep in thought.

You sat there for what felt like hours until she broke the silence.

“Sorry… About the couch.”

“You’re all good. Don’t worry about it.” You said brushing her off.

It suddenly hit her that she had been apologizing to you more and more recently. Jinx, jinx, jinx, ever the disenchanting one. It’s not like she liked disappointing you, it just came easy with being who she was. Although she could never figure out why you stuck around, she was sure of one thing, that you deserved better than this.

You were better than this. Better than being her shoulder to cry on, the person she runs to, the one always patching her up, getting her back up on her feet, fixing her. But at the end of the day she was the most selfish person she knew. That’s why she always came back, why she was now dirtying your stupidly expensive couch, why she couldn’t just leave you alone.

You were a saint in her eyes, an angel sent from above specifically tasked with keeping her sane. Well that’s what she liked to think anyway, because deep down she knew the truth. That it wasn't fair to you. You weren’t the one meant to bear her burdens, and she was painfully aware of that every time she ended up at your doorstep. She was a mess of tangled thoughts and somehow you never turned her away.

That thought scared her more than she'd ever admit. She didn’t deserve someone like you. Someone steady and kind, someone who looked at her like she wasn’t broken beyond repair. And yet here she was again, barging into your home and tainting it with all her ‘brokenness’.

She glanced at you, her gaze softer than usual. “You know,” she murmured as her eyes flickered away, “one day you’re gonna get tired of this.”

“Tired of you? Impossible.” You said with a light chuckle hoping to lighten the mood, even if just a little bit.

Sadly it didn't seem to work. Instead, she looked back at you, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips in a slight pout. Her eyes studied yours, almost as if she was trying to read your mind. After what felt like forever she finally looked away. Letting out a disappointed sigh she turned her attention back to the black TV in front of her, sinking deeper into the couch.

“I let you stay because I want to. Not because I have to.” You said softly, deciding to break the silence once you realized she wasn’t going to respond. 

She let out a scoff before chuckling dryly. “You just don’t get it.” She swallowed as her smile disappeared, voice dropping even lower than before. “But it's okay. I don't expect you to.”

You frowned. You were really trying to understand, but she wasn’t making it easy. “Then explain it to me.”

She looked away, her fingers picking at a loose thread on her pants. “It’s not that simple. You’re… good. And me?” She let out a sigh. “I’m just…something else.”

She paused, as if debating how much to say, then looked back at you, her eyes dark and serious. “One day I’ll do something you can’t forgive. And it won’t just be a few bruises or blood on your couch.” She spoke slowly, looking at you cautiously as if she wasn’t allowed to.

The words felt cold. You tried to stay calm, but her tone was making your heart pound. You were beyond worried. Of course she just had to be cryptic when it mattered most. 

You wanted to ask her what the hell she was talking about, what had happened, and why she was suddenly so miserable, but you knew she wasn’t the type to give you details, let alone answer questions. In the end she’d only get defensive and push you away, so you resisted the urge to interrogate her, deciding to instead show her support. 

 “Whatever it is, I don’t mind.” You tried reassuring her, shaking your head in protest.

Her eyes softened for a second, but she quickly looked away again. “For now.” she said quietly. 

The last words hung in the air as the room got quiet again. She sat back lost in thought, and you could feel the walls going up again, shutting you out.

You swallowed down the worry gnawing at you and let out a small sigh, deciding that maybe words weren’t what she needed right now. Instead, you reached over and took her hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. Her eyes flickered down to your hand in surprise, and you felt her fingers tense up.

She looked up at you curiously, studying your face. She opened her mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to say something self-deprecating, but then she just… stopped. Instead, she let out a long tired sigh as her fingers relaxed.

After a pause she suddenly turned her body towards yours, quickly leaning in to wrap her arms around your shoulders, hugging you tightly. Her head resting against the crook of your neck as her breathing slowed, and her shoulders loosened.

“You’re an idiot for sticking around.” she mumbled softly as she leaned her head in closer, but there was no bite to her words. In fact, you could almost hear a faint hint of relief.

You chuckled softly, your grip on her tightening. “I’m fine with that... Now let's get you cleaned up.”

. . .

HI :3333 this was rlly fast paced but its been in my drafts for awhile now so bleugh whatever VI FIC COMING SOON i gotta stop writing abt her ong i dont even like that girl

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Look Alike

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous (x3)

Warnings: eating disorder, mentions of depression, attempted murder, I didn’t copy the episode exactly so probably some mistakes

Synopsis: an angel is going around killing anyone who is suffering—but what happens when it goes after you?

A/N: this one is kinda heavy guys, so if this is a topic that will trigger you PLEASE do not read it. And please remember—I think you’re beautiful, and always remember to eat something, even if it’s just a snack, even if it’s not “good for you”; eating something just because you like how it tastes is better than not eating anything at all. Love you guys!

Your fingers fumbled as they retrieved your picture of Mary Winchester, tattered and faded at the edges. You looked from the picture to your own reflection, your heart plummeting.

Your mother had this…this look about her; she was slender and beautiful, but also strong. Strong enough to be a hunter.

You looked at your own reflection again before ducking your head, tucking Mary’s photo back into your wallet.

“Hey kid.” Dean’s voice in your doorway startled you, and you whipped your head around. “Lunch is ready, let’s go…what are you doing in here?”

“Oh, no-nothing,” you muttered, your hands fidgeting. “I’m not that hungry right now, maybe I’ll get something later.”

“Did you eat breakfast?” Dean asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Um—actually, maybe I will eat now.” you sidestepped his question and his body as you headed for the kitchen. Dean dropped the subject, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You were going to have to be more careful about your eating habits—or lack thereof.

Of course Dean had made burgers again. You looked to Sam, hoping he’d made something else, but he was happily chowing down on a huge hamburger—apparently he didn’t mind them if they didn’t come from greasy diners.

You forced yourself not to huff; it was impossible to pretend to eat a burger, so you’d really have to eat this time.

“Here.” Dean pushed a plate at you, and you took it without protest.

You managed to choke down about two bites before Dean got a phone call. He spoke for a few minutes before hanging up and addressing his younger siblings.

“Cas has a case. I’m gonna go check it out.”

“A case?” You put down your burger. “I’ll go pack.”

“I can take this one alone,” Dean assured you.

“Don’t be stupid, I’m coming.” You started for the door, hoping he wouldn’t argue.

“You’re not gonna finish your food?” Sam asked.

“I had enough,” you assured him, and ran off before he could argue.

…

“So…he exploded.” Dean was staring around at the pink living room, a grimace on his face.

“Yeah. So completely that there’s not a bit of him left that’s bigger than a grain of sand,” a nearby officer said. Once the officer stepped away, Dean spoke to you. “I’m gonna go talk to Cas, see what he can tell me. You should stay at the motel, read up on some things.”

“Ok.” You shrugged. “Call me if you find anything out.”

“Deal.”

…

“Ephraim.”

“Gazuntite.”

“No, Dean. Ephraim was—is—an angel, his job on the battlefield was to end the suffering of dying angels.”

“End the suffering…let me guess, by blowing them up?” Dean said.

“Unfortunately, yes. It seems that he’s continuing his mission on earth.”

“Yeah, but these people aren’t dying, they just had a bad day.”

“Apparently Ephraim can’t tell the difference between emotional suffering and…”

“And dying?” Dean scoffed. “Cas, this is crazy. Everybody has bad days, this guy is gonna end up wiping out the world.”

“It’s more than just bad days,” Castiel argued. “These people were in serious emotional turmoil. But you’re right—you need to find him.”

“You’re not gonna help?” Dean challenged.

“Dean, I’m just human. There’s nothing I can do.”

…

You stared at the takeout container that Dean had got you before dropping you off. You couldn’t refuse, you knew he would start to notice if you refused too many meals, but you still didn’t want it.

Your stomach growled, and you cringed. Maybe part of you wanted it.

You pushed the container away, opting instead to don workout clothes—the motel had a gym. You’d never be able to be a hunter like Mary, you’d never be able to keep up with your brothers, if you didn’t workout more.

After an hour on the treadmill, you decided it was time to get back to work. You didn’t want to leave Dean in the lurch when it came to research, even if he hadn’t told you any more information. He got this way when he took you on hunts—determined to do it all alone, not clueing you in on anything.

It’s because you don’t look like a hunter yet.

You swallowed hard. You may not look like a hunter yet, but you would soon enough. You just had to skip a few more meals, go a few more days, and then—just maybe—you could be a good hunter. You would look like Mary did, strong and in shape, and your brothers would trust you more.

You slipped back into your room, going straight for your bag to get your picture of Mary. You held it up for the millionth time, looking from it to the mirror. Your heart sank—you weren’t Mary; maybe you never would be.

Your stomach growled again, and you huffed.

“No,” you told yourself. Your eyes flickered over to the takeout container. You snatched it off the table and threw it into the trash. “No!”

You couldn’t give up now—who cared if you were hungry? Sam and Dean gave up a lifetime of sleep to keep hunting, you could skip some meals to do the same. You had to.

You hadn’t even noticed that you were crying until a few tears dropped onto Mary’s smiling face in your hands.

“Mom,” you whimpered. “Why can’t I just be like you?”

“I can help you.” The voice behind you startled you, and you dropped Mary’s photo, whirling around and reaching for the gun at your waist and.

“Who are you?” You demanded, raising the weapon.

“That won’t do anything to me,” the man insisted. “And you don’t need it. I’m here to help you. You’re suffering, and I’m here to end it.”

“End it?” You took a step back. “You’re the guy we’re after. You’re the one who killed that man, and that teenager.”

“I ended their suffering,” the man continued, stepping towards you. “And I can end yours.”

“It’s not like that!” The gun was shaking in your hands. You didn’t bother to shoot, knowing it wouldn’t help. “I’m not dying!”

“You are,” he argued. “I can heal your hunger, but I cannot make you eat. But the end I will give you will be painless.”

“What are you?” You demanded, taking another step back. Your back hit the sharp edge of a splintered desk, halting your movements.

“I am an angel. My mission is to end suffering. Let me end yours.”

“An angel, huh.” You put your gun down on the desk as if in defeat. While Ephraim kept his attention on your face, you moved your hand down to the splintered edge of the table and slid it across, drawing blood. Dropping your hand out of sight behind the desk, you began to draw an angel banishing sigil.

Ephraim moved before you could blink, grabbing your wrist and twisting it away from the desk.

“Don’t fight it,” he said. “I can help you.” His free hand was suddenly above you, lowering towards your forehead like death’s scythe.

“Hey!” The grip on you was released at the sound of Dean’s voice in the doorway. “Leave her alone!” Dean had his angel blade out and pointed at Ephraim. “You don’t get to just kill people because they’re hurting.”

“That’s exactly what I was made for,” Ephraim argued. “You didn’t even know she was suffering, but I do! And I can fix it!”

“That’s now how you fix it!” Dean thundered. He lunged forward, stabbing at Ephraim with the blade, but the angel side stepped him and flung him into the wall with a single flick of his wrist. The angel blade clattered to the ground, and you once again found yourself face-to-face with the murderous angel.

“Please,” you pleaded. “Look, I know you think you’re doing good. But humans—they hurt sometimes. But we can do better—I can do better—we’re all just doing the best we can.”

“If this is the best that you can do.” Ephraim shook his head. “Then this is what you need.” He stretched out his hand, and your breath caught in your throat.

You jumped back in surprise when Ephraim’s eyes glowed brightly, his jaw hanging open before he slumped to the ground. Dean stood behind him, a bloody angel blade gripped in his hand.

“That’s not what she needs,” he growled almost to himself. Then his eyes were on you. “Are you ok?”

You nodded shakily, taking a deep breath.

“Ok.” Dean dropped the angel blade. “Now what was that about? Why did he think—“

“I-I don’t know.” You couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes.

“Well what—“ Dean’s voice caught, and you looked up to see him staring at the corner of the room. You followed his gaze, and your stomach dropped. He was staring at the tiny garbage can in the corner, the open and full takeout container fully visible.

“Kid.” Dean swallowed. “When was the last time you ate? And no, that one bite of your burger didn’t count.” Dean’s eyes were on you now, and he petrified you to the spot with his gaze. “I mean when was the last time you really ate?”

“I—um…” your lip quivered and your hands began to fidget. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Ok, hey.” Dean pulled you into his arms when you started to cry. “I’ve got you kid.” He pulled away, brushing your tears. “Why are you doing this kid?”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, wiping at your face. “Dean—“ your voice caught and you choked on a sob.

“Ok, ok,” Dean soothed. “It’s ok, let’s…let’s go back home, ok? We can talk about it later. Go and wait in the car, I’ll bring the stuff.”

You went to the car without argument, and after you left Dean called Sam.

“Hey,” Dean huffed while he gathered the guns and clothes and tossed them in his bag. “Do you remember the last time you saw Y/N eat? Like, like a full meal.”

“Um…” Sam’s voice came out surprised and hesitant. “No.” Realization hit him. “No, I don’t. Dean, what’s going on?”

“I don’t think she’s eating. Ephraim…Ephraim tried to kill her.”

“I thought you said he only killed people who were…” Sam swallowed. “Who were really broken up, right?”

“Yeah.” Dean stopped packing long enough to clench and unclench his fist. “Yeah. She’s suffering, Sam, and we didn’t even know it. She stopped eating and we didn’t see.”

“Dean…” Dean heard Sam’s deep breath through the phone. “I’m…I’m gonna do some research while you get here. Try and talk to her on the ride home, ok? Maybe…we’ve gotta help her, Dean.”

“I know. We’ll be back in a couple hours.” Dean hung up, taking a deep breath. “Ok,” he said to himself, zipping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a picture in the middle of the floor. He stooped to pick it up—it was Mary, when she wasn’t much older than you. Dean tucked it into his back pocket. “Ok.”

…

“Hey kid,” Dean greeted as he tossed his bag in the back. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, and you didn’t acknowledge him.

Dean let silence reign as he started up the Impala and headed down the road—he couldn’t force you to talk.

“I just wanted to look like her,” you said suddenly, your head resting against your knees.

Dean turned his head to look at you. “What?”

“Mom. I don’t look like her. She was such a good hunter, and I just wanted to be like that.”

“Kiddo—“ Dean’s voice caught. “Kid, you don’t have to look like her to be a good hunter.”

“But I can’t keep up with you.” You sniffled. “I thought if I looked like her…I could keep up with you.”

“When we were your age, we couldn’t have kept up with us,” Dean argued. “Besides, this isn’t…you don’t become a better hunter by starving yourself, kid.”

Dean watched out of the corner of his eye as your fingers clenched on your jeans, bunching up the fabric before you let it go. When you spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know how to stop.”

Dean forced himself to breathe through the pain, taking a moment before offering you a strong smile.

“That’s what we’re here for, kid. Me and Sammy are gonna help you.”

…

“Hey.” Sam’s hug when you stepped into the bunker was surprising and long. You heard Dean’s huff from behind you, but Sam ignored him.

“Hi.” Your greeting was muffled against Sam’s jacket, and he finally pulled away.

“Ok, so um, I’ve been doing some research, so I’ll show you what I got.” Sam reached behind him, picking up printouts from the internet. “I have a list of foods that are supposed to help, and um, I also made up a schedule—that’s supposed to make it easier—and if there’s any specific food you want me to pick up when I go out you can tell me. Or hey, you can just come with me and pick stuff out and—“

“Hey, dude,” Dean cut in with another huff. “I told you not to freak her out about this.”

“I’m not freaking her out!” Sam’s eyes went back to you. “Wait, am I freaking you out?”

“Um…” you picked at your hands. “It…it’s a lot…”

“We’ll start out small,” Dean insisted. “You want some toast?”

“Bread is good,” Sam piped up, holding up one of the research pages.

“Toast sounds good.” Your lips twitched up even as your eyes filled with tears.

“Hey, ok.” Dean’s arms were around you suddenly. “You got this, ok? We’re right here to help you.”

“Ok,” you sniffled.

Dean pulled away. “Ok. Now let’s get you something to eat, and then Sam can freak you out about everything he read.”

Sam opened his mouth, then closed it.

“I think I can do that,” you sniffled.

“I know you can.” Dean grinned. “Oh, hey—“ Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out your picture of Mary. “This is yours.” You took it with a shaky hand, and when you looked back up Dean was bending down to stare into your eyes. “Hey. You’re just as pretty as mom. And she…she would want you to take care of yourself, ok? And so would dad. And so do we. Kapeesh?”

You threw your arms around Dean.

“Kapeesh,” you told him.

“Ok.” Dean pulled away, reaching up and brushing a stray tear off your face. “Now let’s go get that toast.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

hello! we are IGNORING that this is almost a whole year late to last year's steddiemas, and we are pretending that i am super awesome at writing things on time! (but i think this the first time i'm on time to a lex challenge lmao)

@steddiemas Day 30 - "I love seeing you flustered, it's cute." AND @thefreakandthehair's Spicy Six -ber Month Challenge - "You got me this?"

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,875 | rated: M | on AO3: this year

Eddie’s hot on his heels as they swing through Steve’s bedroom door, the former pressing the latter back into it once closed and, surprisingly, doesn’t go for a kiss. Eddie presses close, slotting a thigh between Steve’s, then leans in, eyes closed, to gently drag his nose along the shape of Steve’s. 

Steve practically melts.

“Hey big boy,” Eddie whispers

Steve hums, pushing one leg just a bit higher between Eddie’s, feeling the not so insubstantial thickness there. “Hey yourself..” 

That pulls a laugh from Eddie, and he opens his eyes. The already dark chocolate of them seem darker in the low light coming from the bedside lamp Steve is suddenly glad he forgot to switch off earlier tonight.

They look at each other for a moment, each of them taking in the other. Then they break out in laughs, pulling together again with a sigh (from which of the two is unknown).

Lips locked and moving steadily together, Steve nudges Eddie back from the door.

Surprisingly, he moves easily, as if he’s not quite aware of moving. That is, until, just before Steve goes to push Eddie down onto his bed, Eddie spins them and pushes Steve back instead.

He shuffles backward up the mattress, awkwardly pulling the pillow up from under him while Eddie watches, amused.

“Good?” he asks when Steve finally leans back against the headboard.

Steve huffs a laugh, rolls his eyes, “Yeah Eddie, I’m good.”

“Good.” Eddie nods, then takes a step backward and launches himself onto Steve.

He lands, bony and uncoordinated, between Steve’s legs with an ‘Oof’.

Steve too, gets the breath knocked out from under him. “Was that really necessary?” he wheezes.

“Absolutely.” Eddie wheezes in return, “Now, where were we?” He starts to get his arms under himself, seeming to struggle pushing up off the squashy mattress.

“Before you tried to kill us both?”

He pushes into Steve further, his hips aligning properly this time, and draping his upper body over Steve’s. “Precisely.”

Eddie lowers his face to Steve’s again and all the sarcastic retorts are flushed from his brain.

After a few minutes and also no time at all, Eddie pulls back enough to change position.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” His lips are hot where they lazily push and drag along the skin where his jaw meets neck.

“Want you,” Steve manages in response, not quite the full response he’d be trying for.

He can feel Eddie’s smile against his skin. “Y’have me,”

“Want you to fuck me.”

The sound Eddie makes sounds as if it was punched out of him, but he manages to say “Can’t.” 

A rock thuds into Steve’s stomach. “Huh?”

“I mean,” another open-mouthed kiss is pressed to his neck, “We can't really go any farther,”

Eddie’s continued ministrations make it hard to think, but Steve manages a breathy “We can't?”

Lips leave the meat of his neck with a final wet kiss, then Eddie’s locking eyes with him again, “Not until we get some lube. I may be less experienced than you, Stevie, but I at least know that much.”

Steve blinks at him in surprise, thoughts swirling in his head and behind his lips about that revelation, but pushes it down, instead twisting for the bedside drawer. He finds what he’s looking for in only a couple practiced swipes. “Here.”

Eddie's jaw drops, grasping the bottle of lube in his palm “You just…have? This?

“Well, yeah.”

“Why??”

Steve shrugs, “I've kept it on hand ever since Carol, Tommy, and I would— you know what? It doesn't matter; now, you gonna ruin me with that monster of yours, or what?”

Eddie blinks at him this time, then shakes his head as if clearing away a thought.

”Sure sweetheart,” he kisses Steve again, “Though I’m kinda pissed I’m not gonna be the first one in that pretty ass of yours.”

Steve sucks Eddie’s lower lip into his mouth and bites at it as Eddie pulls back, “Tommy never— you’ll be the first.”

Eddie stares down at him, and Steve watches the color flood into his cheeks as his expression shifts from confusion to cockiness. “Well then,” he tosses the bottle up and catches it again with fervor, grinning almost giddily, “Your wish is my command; But first..” He leans back in and kisses him again, putting the bottle back onto the nightstand.

Steve laughs when Eddie pulls back to get at the other side of his neck. “You–hah– like kissing, Munson?”

“Like kissing you.” He mumbles against Steve’s adam’s apple, “Love seeing you flustered. It’s cute.” He leans up then, looking Steve in the face, “But don’t call me Munson when I’m about to go down on you.”

“You are?”

Eddie just grins and sits back, tugging at the waistband of Steve’s sweatpants.

-x-

Having worked through the previous night on Steve’s jacket, having worked over Steve all evening, Eddie’s beat (hah) by the time his and Steve’s breaths finally slow late that night. Even with the good chunk of hours he slept through that morning.

And now, as he lays boneless on Steve’s chest, he sleepily blinks out at the snowflakes filtering past Steve’s window.

He tracks the path of one clump from where it seemingly appears out of nowhere as it passes into the low light coming from the bedside lamp, all the way down to where it lands on the strip of the stuff accumulating on the sill.

Two, three more times he does this, finally stirring to look up at Steve.

His hair is a sweaty mess, drying plastered to his forehead, floating above the pillowcase with the static, sticking straight up into the air…

“Your hair’s a mess.”

Steve’s blissful expression crinkles up in laughter, he looks down at Eddie in return, eyes flicking all over his own face and hair, “Yours is worse.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Eddie hums, rests his chin on Steve’s chest, “We should probably take a shower before we fall asleep.”

Steve, whose eyes had stayed shut on his last blink, opens his eyes with an unconcerned hum. “Probably.”

Neither make any sort of move to get up for a few more minutes; Steve’s hand does, however, start to trace a figure eight onto the skin of Eddie’s back.

“Hmmmokay, okay, I seriously almost fell asleep that time.” Steve finally says, startling Eddie out of the doze he’d somehow fell into, “Let’s go, shower time.”

Slowly, sleepily, they shower; both their hands end up wandering over the other, Steve winning out on getting his hand around them both for one more tally for the night, and are back in bed, and clean, another five minutes later.

The next morning, they wake up slowly, stirring, then fully rising after a heated, morning breath riddled, makeout session.

“No, really Ed, we should— you should get going, isn’t Wayne going to be up soon?”

Not missing that slip, but choosing to ignore it for now, Eddie squints playfully up at Steve as he pushes up off the bed and towards his dresser, “You want me outta here that bad, Stevie? Got your other boyfriend coming over soon?”

Steve shakes his head, closing the drawer he’d been rifling through and turning back around to face him. “Yeah Ed, I’ve got a full roster of Christmas blowjobs to hand out today, so..” he makes a shoo-ing motion at him, then pulls his shirt on over his slept-with-it-wet bed head.

Eddie laughs, pushing up to sit in the center of the bed, “Would you like to come over for cinnamon rolls, Stevie?”

Steve waves him off immediately, “No, no, You have a good day with Wayne, Ed, but,” He shuffles over to his desk, reaches between it and his bedframe, and comes back with a small rectangular box, wrapped in a plaid paper that, if he tested it, Eddie was sure matched the pattern of the ribbon on the mantle. “You have to bring this to Wayne.”

Eddie takes a moment to revel in the fact that Steve got his uncle a Christmas present, that his boyfriend Steve got his uncle a Christmas present, he shakes his head, shuffling to the edge of the bed, “No can do, Stevie,” he says as he stands, “Munson rule, you bought it, you gift it.”

-x-

“We’re home!” Eddie yells as soon as the door is open, pulling Steve inside then letting his hand go to greet Wayne in the kitchen with a hug.

Steve takes the moment to put his box under the Munson’s tree in the corner, short and twinkling softly, a modest and lovingly wrapped pile of other gifts taunting him under the colored panels of Sunday comics.

The box is shoved behind the next biggest box, and he’s standing again before Wayne and Eddie have even released the other, “Merry Christmas old man, our rolls ready yet?”

“Y’know, I remind myself every day how much I love ya.” Eddie grins at his uncle, and Steve can’t decide if he picked up on the jab or not. “And yes, you ungrateful little shit, the rolls are almost done.”

His mustache remains curved up as he shakes his head fondly and turns back to the oven.

“Great! By the way, Steve’s here.”

“Yeah, I picked up on that. How’s it goin’ Steve?”

“I’m great, thanks. Thanks for having me over, Eddie offered and said you wouldn’t mind…?”

Wayne looks up at him then, ducking to peer through the gap between the cabinets and counter of the peninsula. “Of course I don’t, boy, you crazy? It’s Christmas!”

“Stevie here said he ‘Didn’t want to intrude.’.” Eddie adds unhelpfully, sucking something off his finger.

“No intrusion here Steve, you know you’re always welc— Theodore Munson you keep your fingers outta that frosting!”

Steve snorts out an ugly laugh, “Theodore?”

Wayne looks between Eddie (still frozen with his finger in his mouth), and Steve, who finally feels like he can wander to the end of the counter. “You mean you’ve been goin’ on and on about this boy for months, years now, and he never knew your name’s Theodore?”

Wayne’s eyes are positively glowing with mischief. 

Eddie finally unfreezes, “Yeah, well, Steve’s middle name is Otis. Otis! Can you believe that?”

Steve only shrugs, unphased by this transgression (surely infuriatingly to Eddie), “I was named after my Grandpa.”

“No shit? So was Teddy.”

Steve barely contains his glee, “Oh cool, why didn’t you tell me, Teddy?”

“I hate you both so much.” Eddie grumbles, then stalks off down the hall.

“Awe, c’mon teddy, where’re you going?” Steve teases more, following Eddie to his room.

“I’m changing into my PJs, leave me alone!” he calls back.

Steve leans in the doorway and watches Eddie shed his vest and jacket, his shirt, all before he even goes to his dresser for a pair of sweats.

He tosses a pair of lounge pants at Steve, and continues to scowl as he sheds his jeans.

“You’re not mad for real, are you?”

“No,” he sighs, pulling up the sweats, “Just mourning the loss of my final secret.”

“Aww,” Steve coos teasingly, tossing his lended pants onto Eddie’s mattress and moving forward to cup Eddie’s face, “You gonna make it,” he pauses, “Teddy bear?”

Eddie, who had started to melt into the hold, scoffs, and pushes him off, but seemingly can’t help but laugh, “You’re the worst person in the whole world.”

“Yeah, well, you still love me.” Steve says, shrugging as he goes back for his lended comfy pants.

He’s done toeing off his shoes and is about to start unbuckling his belt when Eddie says, “Yeah, I think I do.”

It was said so quietly, and just as the timer in the kitchen goes off, so it takes Steve all the way until his belt, button, and fly are completely undone before he registers what Eddie had said..

And what he said. 

His hands drop from his jeans down to his sides. He turns to face Eddie again.

“You do?”

Eddie nods, and Steve’s jeans unceremoniously fall to his ankles.

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to ugly laugh, though he clamps his hand over his mouth in glee to stop it.

Steve opens his mouth to say something, when Wayne’s voice calls down the hall and it breaks through his daze.

“Hands better be stayin’ above the waist down there!”

Eddie laughs again, Steve finally kicks his jeans off his feet. His face is broiling.

“Yeah Wayne, just changing!” Eddie calls back.

“Well hurry it up, rolls are all ready to go.”

“Be there in a sec.”

Steve finally finishes pulling on his new pants, tying them tight at the waist, “Wayne knows?” he whispers to Eddie.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, of course he does.” he waves off Steve’s worries and picks up his t-shirt, pulling it on over his head, “Now c’mon, I’m starving.”

“Hey, wait,” Steve catches him in the doorway and presses a kiss to his lips, “I love you too.”

-

Twenty minutes later, with their stomachs full and teeth aching, the three shuffle into the living room from the Munsons’ little table. 

“Alright’ who’s first?”

“Steve!” Eddie says at the same time Steve says “Eddie!”

Wayne only shrugs, “Sounds good to me, Ed, yours is that one covered in Garf, Steve, yours is that smaller rectangle one.”

Somehow, Eddie’s already got his half torn open by time he hands Steve his gift.

“Wayne, you didn’t have to–”

“Oh sick! I needed a new pair of these,” Eddie exclaims, pulling a bright white sneaker from the box in his lap, “Thanks Wayne!”

Newsprint crinkles as Eddie shifts the box around to grab the only remaining newspaper-wrapped box and tossing it to Wayne.

“Can’t say I never get you anything,”

Wayne tears into his package, and soon, is lifting out a fur-lined bomber hat. “This is great, thanks kiddo,” He clasps the earflaps over the leather crown of the head and tugs it on.

“Yeah, and it cost me a pretty penny,” Eddie teases, as he pulls the laces out of his new, identical to his well-worn ones by the door, shoes. “So you better wear it.”

“Whattya mean! I’m wearin’ it right now!”

Steve leaves them to their playful jabs, and starts tearing open the newspaper on his own gift.

He gets it open, and his eyes widen. He immediately flips over the wrappings unnecessarily, he can tell they are the funnies from here. 

He stares down at the box in his hands, and laughs. Eddie pauses in his re-lacing efforts to look up at the sound.

“Hope that means you like ‘em.” Wayne says, and, still grinning, Steve looks up at him. While he was stuck figuring out his present, it seems Eddie’s taken it upon himself to toss his balled newspaper wrappings and the paper wrappings from his shoebox into Wayne’s lap. “Now I know it’s new and all, but sue me for gettin’ sappy about you boys havin’ Christmases all on your own,” he shrugs, “Thought you’d want a couple’a traditional Munson mugs to startcha off.”

Steve’s stomach flips at the implication and, still smiling (and with his hands now free of the box of two matching mugs as Eddie had taken it from him to examine), Steve stands, grabs Wayne’s present, and passes it to him.

“You got me this?” Wayne asks incredulously, “You spoil me.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Just open it.”

Wayne’s only torn off one corner when he bursts out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asks, trying to see what’s under the paper.

“Now I know this is new and all,” Steve teases, putting on a horrible impression of Wayne’s half-lost accent, “But I thought you’d want some traditional Munson mugs.”

This only makes Wayne laugh harder, his recliner shakes with it.

“What? Someone tell me what’s going on!”

“Oh that’s hilarious,” Wayne wheezes, coming down from his fit with a few wayward giggles, and finishes tearing off the paper.. from an identical set of two Christmas-themed mugs he’d just gifted Steve.

Eddie starts to laugh, pulling both Steve and Wayne into another bout each, “Well, I guess we’ll never have a shortage of Christmas mugs.” Eddie says, taking the second box from Wayne’s armrest. “You better use them whenever we can’t make it back home for the holidays, old man.”

Steve’s stomach flips again at the thought of he and Eddie together this year and all the years to come.

“‘Course I will, you see any other Christmassy mugs hangin’ around here?” Waye says, gesturing around to his zillion other cups, “You just gotta use the other whenever you can.”

Wayne’s true to his word, always assuring them over the phone that he’s got his mug out whenever they get stuck up in Chicago, out in Los Angeles, complaining that “My sleigh is lookin’ a little worse for wear.” every time.

And when, only a couple handfuls of too few years later when Steve and Eddie pull out their set of three matching Christmas mugs the year after Wayne is gone, it makes them laugh before anything else.

“He’s got his, don’t worry Teddy.”

“I know he does,” Eddie murmurs, looking down at the mug in his hand, then snorts a laugh, “That sleigh’s toast by now.”

i'm laughing at the fact this started smutty and ended sad lmao

i found two boxes of these mugs from the 80s in oct last year and had always planned them to be written in as an accidental double gift between steve and wayne

also, you will pull Theodore "Eddie/Teddy" Munson from my cold dead hands

ALSO ALSO special shoutout to @steddiehasmywholeheart who has been reading this today and sending me notifs with a comment on each chap as they do that made me say 'you know what, i need to finish this. today. as a special surprise for them specifically.'

[mysteriaqueen]

Good, right?

Sukuna x Reader Oneshot | Modern/College AU (i guess) | 777 words

Summary: You and Sukuna have been sent to gather the necessary ingredients for some cooking class. And now you're in an empty storage room. By yourselves.

He kissed me. He fucking kissed me.

You throw your arms up awkwardly and freeze. You can feel his lips against yours, warm and gentle. You don’t know how to react. No, you know how to react. You should push him off immediately. There is no universe in which you’d want Ryomen Sukuna kissing you. Except maybe this one.

He pulls back just barely with the most shit-eating grin on his face. So, naturally, you push him away. But what does that mean now?

“Oho, you’re only just now pushing me away. Why? Because now I know you like it?” he asks, smug as hell. “I absolutely did not like that,” you say, rolling your eyes and looking away.

But taking your eyes off him was a mistake. Because now he’s kissing you again, catching you off guard a second time. But this time his hands are on your hips and he presses his chest against yours. He’s warm and that warmth spreads through your body causing your eyes to flutter shut. You barely realize it but he’s kissed you multiple times now. Your awkwardly placed arms have come to rest against his. But once you feel his skin you’ve got enough presence of mind to push him off. And he lets you, stumbling back slightly with a laugh.

Why did I like that????

“What the hell is wrong with you?! God, you’re so weird.” He just rolls his eyes. “I guess you are too.” “What are you talking about?” “You’re over here kissing one of the bullies you claim to despise so much.” “You’re kissing me, and I don’t even like it!” you say with a huff.

He deadpans. “You’re gonna tell me you didn’t like that? After how many times you let me kiss you? With my hands on your waist. I saw how your eyes flutter closed, you know.”

Damn it.

“I was in shock.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, maybe the first time. Just admit it,” he says, stepping closer with the same smirk. “It’s okay if you like it. I’d actually prefer it that way.”

You sigh, closing your eyes (a mistake you haven’t seemed to learn from) and crossing your arms.

“Of course you would, but I don’t mPH-”

Yeah, he’s kissing you. Again. You catch yourself melting the tiniest bit before you pull away. And of course, Sukuna noticed. Your clue for that is that his grin somehow got cockier. Bastard.

“Are you insane?” “Possibly. No more insane than you.” “I don’t go around kissing random people!” “I only do it if I’m gonna enjoy it. And I’m thoroughly enjoying this. As are you,” he says, leaning into you more.

You panic on the inside about how good feels pressing you against the shelves and-

“Back up!”

He obliges. With a smirk, of course.

“You know, repressing your emotions isn’t a good habit to get into.”

You just roll your eyes. You aren’t even trying to, you just want a moment to accept them for yourself. Or reason them away so you can pretend this never happened at all. Is that so wrong?

You sigh, turning towards the exit.

“Listen, I want nothing to do with you. You and your group just get off on terrifying people who are already a little scared of you. Ew.”

You couldn’t hear the quiet footsteps he was taking over your rant. So when his warm body is suddenly right up against your back you gasp. And when he snakes his arm around your waist you stop breathing. And when his chin ends up on your shoulder it takes everything in you not to make an embarrassing noise.

“Wh-” 

You have to cut yourself off because you can barely trust your voice. You can feel his smirk on your neck. You swallow.

“What are you doing?” you whisper. “What does it feel like? Good, right?”

You just about short-circuited after hearing that. Some noise of shock and disapproval came out of your mouth but Sukuna just laughed. After some sort of button-mashing quick-time event in your brain you finally get the presence of mind to try and take control of the situation.

“We’re taking too long. We still have to grab some flour and get back to the demonstration.”

There’s a moment of silence where you’re praying Sukuna will show some mercy. And he does. He actually backs up. Well, of course, he’s laughing the entire time, But a win is a win.

“Fine. I let you off for now. But you know I’m not forgetting about this. It’s only a matter of time until you have to face this again. I’ll make sure of it.”

Masterlist

reblogs and comments appreciated

[kbbueckers]

house party

characters: caitlin clark x reader

overview: caitlin punches your homophobic and toxic ex boyfriend, tiny bit of fluff at the end

warnings: tiny bit of angst, tiny bit of blood, violence, homophobia from ex

caitlin has been your girlfriend for about two or three years, you and caitlin were at a house party because you begged her to go with you for weeks, and she finally agreed. turns out the begging wasn't even worth it, you weren't having fun. the music was bad, there was no food, and your ex was here. 

"i'm gonna go get a drink, kk?" you laid her down on the couch as she whispered something you didn't really hear. as you were refilling your cup, the one person you've been trying your best all night to avoid came up to you. 

jay was your boyfriend back before you even knew you were a lesbian. once you realized, you broke up with him because "the spark was gone." atleast that's how you worded it. he really never got over it, and still tries to hit on you every now and then. 

"you've been avoiding me, haven't you?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. you at first thought to not even reply, but you knew that would only make the situation worst. "if you know someone's avoiding you, why come up to them?" you went to walk away before he grabbed your arm, convincing you to stay.

"i've missed you." he attempted to touch your hair before you slapped his hand away. without your knowledge, caitlin had followed you through the crowd and saw the whole interaction with him.

caitlin was extremely overprotective, she has always made attachments to people easily, especially you. ever since you started dating, caitlin wouldn't let you out of her sight. either following you everywhere like a little puppy dog, or dragging you everywhere she went, you thought it was cute. 

"is he bothering you?" she asked. coming up behind you, and grabbing you waist to pull you back from him. caitlin knew your history with him. you always used to tell her whether you found out you were gay or not you still would've eventually ended things with him.

he treated you horribly the whole relationship. when you used to live with him in his apartment, anytime he got the slightest bit of angry, even if it wasn't your fault, he would kick you out. there were many nights where you had to knock on friends doors asking can you stay the night.

caitlin was one of those friends. you would cry to her many nights about how you couldn't do this anymore, and how bad he would make you feel. she always thought you deserved better, and now you had better.

you shake your head no. saving jay the trouble, knowing she could, and would, beat his ass. "this is none of your business." he starts to get defensive with caitlin, deciding to start trouble even though she's about a foot taller than him. 

"i'm her girlfriend, and it seems like you're bothering her, so it is my business." caitlin starts to get louder, and all up in his face. not sure if it was the alcohol or what, but she was ready to fight.

"oh so you're kissing girls now?" he turned to you in surprise. "that's none of your business." you replied. "man just leave her alone, she clearly doesn't wanna speak to you." caitlin brushed him off, turning around back to me as we both started to walk away. before we were able to walk away fully, jay muttered something.

"whatever, fuckin' homos"

what. the. hell. 

you and caitlin both stopped in your tracks, before you could even turn around to stop caitlin from doing whatever she was about to do, she turned around quick, serving a punch to jay's nose. he made a loud sound on the ground from falling, taking a few chairs with him, and the whole keg of beer, causing everyone to turn around in shock.

"come on baby, let's go." caitlin tugged your arm a few times before pointing to the door, turning around like she didn't just punch your ex boyfriend in the nose.

you nodded as you turned around to see jay's friends helping him up off the ground, his nose bleeding bad, and a puddle of beer forming around him. everyone around us was staring at caitlin, muttering and whispering, but she didn't care as we walked out of the house and into the cold. caitlin's arm around your shoulders, holding you tighter than when you first walked in.

caitlin was driving home in silence with her hand resting on your thigh, you couldn't help but notice the small red spots on her knuckles.

"are your hands okay?" she shook her head. "i'm good baby, thanks."

even though caitlin told you her hand was fine, once you got home you insisted on putting some ice on it and wrapping it. you were sitting on her lap and holding her fingers while dabbing the ice on them lightly.

"i'm sorry for punching him." she spoke up. you shook your head. "no, no. i wanna thank you. he definitely won't mess with me anymore." caitlin nodded. "why didn't you tell me he was bothering you?" caitlin wrapped her arms around your waist as she pulled you closer. you shrugged your shoulders in response "i didn't want this to happen." 

once you were finished wrapping her fingers, caitlin got both you and her ready for bed before you cuddled up against each other,  resting from the long night you just had. 

this kinda sucks but i've been working on it all afternoon and im tired, really hope you enjoy.

tips on how to improve my writing are greatly appreciated

-kbbueckers💋

[mejaemin]

who cooked here?- na jaemin

wc: 1k

summary: jaemin wants to pick your next nail design, but why the sudden interest?

warnings: crack, fem reader, getting nails done, suggestive themes at the end

an: maybe the nail tech in me felt like yapping a little about my knowledge because i wrote this in like 40 minutes which never happens.. anyways the design nana picked is the middle photo !!

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

it’s been two weeks since your last set, and honestly you hadn’t really paid attention to how they were holding on because of how busy you were. thankfully, you didn’t have to worry too much because jaemin definitely noticed.

you were sitting in the mall’s food court with your boyfriend, sharing a plate of food while you took a short break from walking. you’re about to reach for another bite when jaemin grabs your hand, gasping as he calls your name. with an unfazed look, you wait for him to share what he’s so shell shocked over.

“angel.. your nails are so grown out.” he turns your fingers that rest in his palm, examining the old and grown out design.

you playfully roll your eyes. “i can’t really afford to re-do them right now, so i’ve just been waiting for them to come off.”

jaemin softly shakes his head, looking up at you. “you really should’ve said something. i mean, i would’ve paid for you to fill them, get something cute put on. i still will, but- what’s that look for?”

with a raised eyebrow at the fact that he knows what a fill is, you shake your head and gesture for him to continue.

“well anyways, i’ll pay for your next appointment because you look so cute when you have your cute little designs on there right? and the babies seem to like it too when you scratch them with them on.”

with your free hand you pull out your phone and begin messaging your nail tech about another appointment. thankfully, they’re free two days from now so they ask for a design. “well.. since you like them so much, what design should i get? i just asked my nail tech and we’ve set a date but i need to send a design.”

at this jaemin perks up, his signature smile showing as he grabs his own phone and begins scrolling. “i’ve been waiting for this for so long, you have no idea. so first, i was thinking you could get almond because you just did square ones. and of course, i already saved a photo and the design is a pink one. everyone’s gonna know i picked it out for you.”

he pulls up the photo he saved of his design of choice and flips the phone over to you. “it’s cute right? i love how there’s chrome and the pearls are almost in the shape of a french tip. they would look really good on you. what do you think?” he smiles, looking at you expectantly.

it was hard to tell whether to laugh or cry at your boyfriend’s knowledge on nail art terms, your jaw dropping a little more the longer he talked about his design. obviously there’s nothing wrong with him learning about such things, but it’s a little random since you never shared them with him and he hasn’t expressed an interest in them at all.

you pulled yourself out of your thoughts to finally respond, “sure, they’re cute and we can do that, but why the fuck do you know so much about nail art?” you ask, letting out a bit of an awkward laugh.

“oh! well i remember i came and watched when i took you to get them done for your birthday and it looked cool so i looked it up a little and learned some about it because i wanted to pick for you one day.” he explains simply, leaving his photos app and showing you his tiktok search history which was full of ‘nail art’ ‘pink nails’ ‘cute nail art’ ‘nail art tutorial’. when you look back up at him you see his flushed cheeks and his gaze set off into the distance.

“that’s so cute nana, of course we can do your design. thanks for taking the time to learn about this stuff for me.”

he huffs, leaning back in his chair. “please, any good boyfriend would learn about the topics you care about. and this is nothing. you should’ve seen the lengths i went to before we met so i could find something to talk to you about..” before you can question him, he takes a forkful of the food you were sharing and pushes it into your mouth.

—

when the time for the appointment comes, jaemin’s elated and absolutely begs to come with you. your nail tech was a little apprehensive being that they had policies about visitors but he swore he wouldn’t talk the entire time so you were able to come to an agreement and brought him along.

the nail appointment starts and jaemin is sitting next to you, watching intently as your old design gets filed off and your new growth gets prepped. thankfully he stays true to his word and keeps quiet, but when you look at him you can see the gears turning as he studies the tech’s techniques.

once the nails are filled and have been shaped correctly, his smile grows as they begin being painted and his photo starts coming to life. he’s not being necessarily disruptive but he does start asking questions about the process and is truly watching in awe as your nail tech replicates the design with ease.

once the set is done, jaemin pays for the set and you leave. it makes you laugh how he’s nearly more excited than you are with the outcome, with your fingers locked and his hand swinging yours back and forth. once you leave the nail studio he lifts your intertwined fingers and begins snapping photos of your new set with a bright smile. once done, he lifts the phone camera up to your face, recording a video.

“so, angel.. i may have lied a bit about why i researched all this nail stuff and im ready to tell the truth now.” his smile turns into a smirk, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“don’t tell me, na jaemin, that you were talking to other females about this stuff or i swear-“

“no, no! i promise it’s not bad. just listen.” he laughs before continuing. “i really do think the designs are cute and i did want to pick one out just for fun.. but i also really wanted you to re-do them just because a fresh set on you looks so hot when you wrap your hands around my-“

“oh my god jaemin shut up!”

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

[superscourge]

Resurrected AU Ch. 1: Alliance

(read on AO3 here!) Warnings (for the fic in general, not necessarily this chapter): Graphic depictions of violence, strong language, general mature themes Chapter Summary: Scourge breaks into one of Eggman's bases in search of a secret weapon to defeat Sonic with, but what he ends up finding is much stranger and much scarier than he was expecting. Though…he finds a way to get some use out of it. Notes: it really took me like a thousand years to get this started huh. lol. well i wanted to at least get the first chapter out before the sonic au collision event fully started, so im happy to present the first chapter of resurrected au's fic!! god i hope yall like it LOLLL, this au means a whole lot to me.. it's become my favorite baby i wont lie. i will also admit that im a Little nervous to finally start posting my actual writing for sonic stuff; i'm pretty self-conscious abt it actually lmao. but hopefully yall end up enjoying how i write these guys. please be niceys idk how long it'll take me to dish out the rest of the chapters, but hopefully i can find the time and energy to get them out steadily!! thanks in advance for reading and thank u so much for ur support and enthusiasm <3

--

It’s not every day that you get a juicy piece of info that could very well put the odds in your favor. That’s why Scourge was not gonna waste this opportunity.

He’d gotten word thanks to his incredible sleuthing skills [read: eavesdropping on strangers] that Eggman had a new base in the area and had apparently acquired a very powerful “secret weapon” of some sort. That was all he needed to know before deciding it was time to raid a base. After all, if he found that secret weapon? Sonic was toast.

It took a minute to actually find the damn place, but soon enough, Scourge was skidding to a stop at the treeline before what looked to be a large, dome-shaped structure with the patented Eggman symbol on it (or something that looked like it; Scourge figured it was close enough). He smirked, flipping his shades down over his eyes and speeding off towards the entrance.

As expected, badniks littered the area around the main entrance to the base. They looked a little funny, Scourge noted; they seemed a little more…high-tech than he was used to seeing. But, whatever–he figured it wouldn’t be an issue once they were busted to scraps.

… He did have a little trouble with these bots. Just a little. But it was no biggie, since he ended up finding a way inside before he could be overwhelmed. All’s well that ends well, he supposed.

The inside of this place was…confusing. So many twists and turns, rooms that led into other rooms, platforms that moved in weird directions…

“Doesn’t this place have a map?” Scourge grumbled to himself as he ran through the absolute maze of hallways.

After what seemed like forever, he finally came to what was clearly the main, central chamber of the base. There was a very complicated-looking keypad attached to it. Luckily, Scourge was very good at lockpicking.

Stepping back a bit, he hopped up and curled into a spindash before launching himself at the keypad. It took a bit of work, but before long, the whole thing was smashed to bits with sparks flying everywhere. Just as he’d hoped, the door opened once the keypad was destroyed. With a triumphant snicker, he unfurled and landed back on the floor before confidently waltzing into the chamber.

Inside looked pretty much as he expected it to–tubes and gadgets everywhere, lots of high-tech machinery that did Gaia-knows-what, lots of papers littered about several desks that clearly showed the work of an evil mastermind…

Yeah. Deffo an Egg-base.

“Now, where’s that weapon…” Scourge questioned aloud as he strolled through the room. He pulled out some drawers and rummaged around here and there, but he didn’t really find anything interesting so far. Surely this thing wasn’t hidden that well, right?

Just as he was starting to get frustrated, he came across a huge capsule of some kind right in the middle of the room. Pretty obvious, actually. He wasn’t that observant, but whatever. He raised his shades to where they were resting back in their place on his head before he rubbed his hands together with a huge, toothy grin. “That looks promising.”

Making his way to the door of the capsule, he tried to peek inside through the little window on the front of it. He couldn’t make anything out… He decided to just open it to get a look at what was inside, so he searched around for a switch of some kind that would do that for him. It didn’t take long, thankfully, and he quickly pressed the button down that would activate the door.

Smoke spewed out from the door as it opened, making Scourge cough a bit. He waved his hand to clear some of it out of his way as he impatiently waited for it to dissipate enough for him to see what he was in for.

This had to be some sort of cool gun. He knew it was. Some kinda laser shooter or something. Or maybe a bazooka. Oh–a cannon, even! He dearly hoped it was a cannon, actually. The smoke was almost fully cleared, so he leaned in excitedly to see what was inside…!

… It was…a guy. There was a guy in there.

“What the–?” Scourge furrowed his brow once he got a good look at the contents of the capsule. It was obviously a person–a jackal, it looked like? Definitely not a cannon. Who the hell was this? He looked rough, like he’d really been put through the wringer. His drip was cool, Scourge supposed, and the big, gnarly scar on the guy’s chest was pretty intimidating…

Mine’s still cooler, he thought to himself.

Suddenly, alarms sounded throughout the base. Scourge cursed under his breath as he looked over his shoulder. He turned back to the man in the capsule, making a quick decision–he’d snag him and take him with him. He probably had some idea of where the weapon was, so once he woke up, he’d just beat the information out of him if he wouldn’t give it up willingly.

Grabbing the jackal out of the capsule and slinging him over his shoulder, Scourge finally sped out back through the way he came. He was able to dodge any bots that tried to come after him thanks to his speed, and soon enough, he was outside and running through the trees of Mobius once again.

He ran until forest turned to jungle, and before long he was slowing to a stop once again in a small clearing where bits of light showed through the canopy up above. He rested the other man’s body down on a bed of moss near a small pond, figuring that’d be…somewhat comfortable, and he then took a seat on a fallen tree a few feet away.

It was only a matter of seconds before he began to tap his foot. What was he supposed to do now? Just sit there waiting for this guy to wake up? That could take hours… He didn’t have that kind of patience.

Deciding to take the initiative, Scourge stood and started walking over to the jackal, intending to just…lightly kick him until he woke up, or something. However, he didn’t get the chance.

A low, threatening growl could be heard rumbling from the stranger’s throat. Scourge stopped in his tracks once he heard it, then took a few paces back. How long had he been–?

One yellow eye opened to a squint, scanning the area before landing on Scourge. For some reason, the look the man was giving him made his skin crawl… Not that he was going to let him know that, though.

Instead, Scourge popped the collar of his jacket to regain his composure and puffed out his chest. “Took ya long enough,” he teased right off the bat. “I was startin’ to think you were dead.”

The jackal’s gaze lingered on him coldly for a few moments. However, he looked elsewhere when he began to speak. “... I should have been.”

That…wasn’t the response Scourge was expecting. The way he sank a bit betrayed his confusion. “... Wait, what?”

The man sat up, sort of startling Scourge into taking another step back. As he did so, he fully opened both of his eyes so that he could properly take in his surroundings. He was clearly ignoring the hedgehog beside him as he turned his head away, which didn’t really sit right with Scourge.

“Hey!” he barked. “I’m talkin’ to you!”

Giving no indication that he was listening, the man proceeded to rise to his feet, standing at his full height. Scourge sort of…shrank a little once he saw how actually tall this guy was. He knew jackals were generally bigger than hedgehogs, but this guy…

No, no, it was fine. No need to be afraid. He was still in charge here–this guy just didn’t know it!

With an annoyed sneer, Scourge dared to stomp a little closer. “Listen here, pal. If it weren’t for me, you woulda still been stuck in that base. I went outta my way to rescue you, got it? That means you owe me one. So, I’m gonna tell you how this is gonna go down, and you’re gonna–hrk!”

A clawed hand suddenly gripping his neck caused Scourge’s words to get caught in his throat… At least, that was part of it.

The jackal had snapped his head around to glare murderously at him as he grabbed him, which gave Scourge a very clear view of his face. He could see his one piercing yellow eye staring back at him…and he quickly noticed that the other eye had some kind of rock lodged into its socket. It was an eerie sight, and it definitely sent an intense chill up Scourge’s spine.

“You,” spat the jackal, voice deep and commanding, “do not control me.”

Unable to respond, Scourge just kind of…dangled there, hands gripping the other’s wrist as he kicked his legs a little. The expression he wore was enough of a response, though, so he was released after a moment of struggle. Once he was able to breathe and stand on his own again, he gasped for air and rubbed at his throat with an indignant look.

“What the hell?” he managed to say between coughs. “Who do you think you are, grabbin’ me like that?”

Turning away, the taller man didn’t bother to look at him as he replied. “I am Infinite,” he answered simply.

There was a pause as Scourge seemed to wait for him to say something else. When he didn’t, he furrowed his brow a little. “... Like, that’s your name, or…?”

The man–Infinite, apparently–seemed to hesitate, as if he was surprised that Scourge didn’t recognize him. One of his ears flicked.

“... I suppose enough time has passed that my name is no longer common knowledge,” he mused, half to himself. “Pity. I would have liked to think I made a bigger impact than that.”

Scourge watched as Infinite turned to fully face him again, making him subconsciously take a couple steps back. Man, this guy was kinda scary… Not that he couldn’t take him! He was just giving him the creeps, was all… Cyan eyes flicked to Infinite’s hands as he flexed his fingers.

“I will simply have to remind the world what true fear feels like,” he growled lowly, “and I suppose that starts with you.”

The rock embedded in Infinite’s eye began to glow as he summoned its power, and, to Scourge’s bewilderment, he began to lift off the ground and hover there. It was kind of scary, actually. The guy was floating. What the hell?

Then it hit him. The weapon Eggman had been hoarding wasn’t a gun or a cannon or anything like that. It was Infinite. He obviously held some sort of power that Eggman wanted to weaponize, and that must have been why he’d been locked up in that base… Things started clicking.

Despite Scourge expecting him to do… anything, really…Infinite proceeded to seize up in pain and let out an agonized yell. He suddenly collapsed to the ground, falling to his knees as he held himself up with one hand and gripped his head with the other. “W… What…?!” 

Infinite’s hand moved from his head to his chest where the large scar marked him. When he felt nothing but the scar, he had a look of both anger and confusion on his face, which told Scourge that what just happened clearly wasn’t the plan.

… Interesting.

Scourge stood a little straighter once he was confident that this guy wasn’t about to explode or something, sticking his thumbs into his jacket pockets. “Aaaalright, Criss Angel. If you’re done with all that , I think it’s time we get down to business.”

While Infinite knelt there still trying to figure out what was going on, Scourge began to pace around him in a circle, smirking as he did so. “Look. Like I said before, I rescued you from that base, so you kinda owe me one. But–and hear me out on this one–I’m willin’ to come to a compromise.”

Infinite snapped out of his pained daze long enough to shoot another glare at Scourge as he came around to his front again. “Compromise?” he hissed.

Scourge nodded. “Yeah. So, listen–I didn’t get to introduce myself earlier.” He held up a thumb and pointed it at his own chest, teeth bared in some kind of nasty grin. “Name’s Scourge. If ya haven’t hearda me by now, then you’ve been livin’ under a rock.”

Infinite somehow doubted that this brat had left enough of a mark on the world that anybody off the street would know his name. Still, he let him continue.

“I wanna take out Sonic. I assume you know him, right? Well, I think you’re just the guy who can help me out with that. He’s gotten lucky so far, but I think with you backin’ me up, I’ll be able to finally give ‘em his just desserts.”

The name Sonic caused a spark of recognition to flash over Infinite’s good eye. His breathing began to steady. “... Sonic,” he repeated. “Yes, I am familiar with Sonic .”

The way Infinite said his name let Scourge know that there was some beef there, at least. This worked in his favor. “Good,” he said with a nod. “So we’re on the same page, then.”

He turned on his heel before stopping his walk, facing Infinite to speak to him directly. “Like I said, I want you to help me take him down. Easy, right? In exchange, though… I’ll help you out with whatever you want, too. I dunno if you knew this, but I’m basically just as strong and just as fast as that blue bastard. I could give anybody a run for their money if I felt like it.”

Narrowing his eye skeptically, Infinite mulled this over. He seemed to be recovering from the shock from before, and he stood back up onto his feet. It was evident from how long he took to respond that his mind was…elsewhere.

“... I see.” His tail swished behind him as he thought about his next words. “You are offering to aid me in whatever task I ask of you?”

“Cross my heart.”

Infinite gave a huff before crossing his arms. “... Fine. If you intend to uphold your end of this bargain, then I will do the same.”

Scourge smiled widely, his sharklike teeth almost glistening in what little sunlight was managing to poke through the canopy above them. This idiot. He had no idea that he had every intention of double-crossing him the first chance he got.

He held out his hand for a shake to seal the deal. “Glad to have ya aboard, Infinite.”

Infinite glanced down at the other’s hand before reaching forward and taking it, giving it a single shake. His grip was tight. “Let us make the most out of this partnership, shall we?”

… Infinite was not stupid. He instantly knew that Scourge was going to betray him. That overconfident fool was so transparent it almost made him sick.

But…he could also tell that he had some bite to his bark, even if it was just a little. He was seasoned enough as a soldier that he could see that. That meant he could get some use out of him before he pulled his own betrayal.

He no longer had the Phantom Ruby in his chest, and he was alive, and he had no idea why. If this green idiot could help him figure that out…then he’d play along for as long as he had to.

Either way, he was going to get answers. And once that was done? He was going to rip out Sonic’s miserable little throat.

☆

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Portato

Chapter Thirty Seven

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader

Other characters: Pamela, Charlie, Jesse, Benny, Kevin and Sam

Word Count: ~3250 with other media

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, Tricia did read through the first scene, but all mistakes are still on me, Dean goes to confession, our reader's self esteem overrides all logic and prodding.

Series Masterlist

There have always been certain women in your life that you just didn’t click with. Some you wanted to, badly. Others you admired from afar, too shy or self conscious to really try to form any kind of bond, be it professional, educational or friendly. There were some you wanted nothing to do with. 

And then there was Pamela.

She was someone you had always admired, still slightly feared, but had resigned yourself to maintaining a simple and mildly judgemental, professional relationship. So when she woke you up, hungover and definitely disheveled as you were, on the bus to Phoenix, you were wary.

“Hey, sorry, but uh— could you come with me? Please?” She looked a little spooked and not exactly as apologetic as she sounded, but you nodded and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“What’s going on?” You said quietly, aware of all the other people around you as you shuffled after her to the actual bunk room in the back of the bus. Except no one back there was even asleep.

“Tell her what you told me. Or everything. Whatever comes last.” Pamela seemed pissed as she snapped at Dean and a sudden dread flooded your senses.

He sat on a bottom bunk, fingers rubbing over his lips in consideration as he glared at Pamela’s demands.

You knew something was up with the buddy system after the last show, but neither you nor Charlie had found anything substantial online. Which left in person or direct phone call threats. You’d been with the band long enough to have seen some shit, from overzealous fans to crazy ex’s and even a few stalkers. Benny’s team didn’t mess around when something had weight behind it. Outside of Vegas, you thought it was over.

By the look in Dean’s eyes, it was worse than you had guessed.

“Who died?” Was possibly the worst thing you could have said to Dean, by the journey his face went through.

He just gaped at you before Pamela dove back in.

“Wait— did someone actually die?”

“Will you let me speak for my damn self?! Christ, Pammy. Sorry, Trouble, this is not how I wanted you to find any of this out. Sit down.”

“Oh boy.”

There wasn’t any furniture back there and it felt oddly intimate to sit next to Dean on a borrowed bed like that. Every other bed was too far away. Instead, you slinked down to the floor and popped your knees up in front of you, like a child during circle time, but with something to hold onto.

“What’s going on? Is this about that guy outside of Wednesday’s show?”

“Kind of.”

Pamela exhaled and uncrossed her arms. “I’m gonna go– I don’t think I’m needed and it’s just gonna rile me up if I hear it all over again. But I’ll be up front if either of you need me, got it?”

“Good call— and, uh, thanks.” Dean looked up at her. Pamela nodded and left you and Dean alone.

The air grew thick and you had to get something off your chest before Dean got into whatever had Pamela so on edge. “Are you okay?”

Dean sighed and picked at the seam of his jeans. “I thought I was, you know? I’ve been putting in the work, but being back there, and then seeing Alastair— Having Cain at the fucking show. Really messed with my head.”

“Who are they?”

“Well, you’ve heard about Cain, Cain Charles. I used to box at his gyms all the time.”

You nodded into the pretzel of your arms.

“Well, I wasn’t really boxing— not most of the time. I was fighting in underground MMA type bouts. And Alastair, the slimy looking dude outside the first show? He was my trainer.”

Dean let that sit, but it didn’t take long for the pieces to start to fall together.

“The bruises— I remember how you were always hurt or stiff all the time.”

“Yeah, don’t miss that one bit either.” Dean rested his elbows on his knees and looked down at you, hunched as if he’s expected to get yelled at.

“So, what do they want? Why’s Benny got the guys on high alert?”

“Me.”

It was almost comical the way your mind looped around that simple word. Lots of people wanted Dean. And you couldn’t blame them, but those connotations didn’t quite fit the conversation so far.

“For what?”

“Back in the ring, at their beck and call, probably licking their boots while I’m at it.”

You straightened up, urgency starting to get the better of you. “Dean, I need more information here. Were you, like, an indentured servant? Do you owe them money? Why are they after you for real?”

“No, I, uh— I was there willingly. Started off with a fight at a club and when one of the goons came over to break it up, the guy didn’t kick me out. Instead he gave me a card, told me I had ‘promise’.”

“So you just decided one day to be a cage fighter? Being a rockstar wasn’t enough or something?” You balked, trying to figure out what drove Dean to that place. 

“Look, I’m not perfect, okay? And neither are you, so please, let me explain myself a little?”

You folded back in on yourself. “Yeah, of course, sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that— just give me the benefit of the doubt here, at least in the beginning.”

You twisted your fingers in front of your lips and tossed an imaginary key behind your back. Dean huffed out a laugh and cleared his throat.

“So, uh, do you remember before the fourth album we were kind of burnt out and Pamela and Lee were going through the last divorce and Bobby was kind of still AWOL because he’d just gotten married himself and Sam was fine by then and Adam was getting all those scholarships and shit?”

“You’re talking, like, almost back to the summer before the shit with Cas, right?”

  “There abouts, yeah.”

“Okay, vaguely. I remember being busy, Zacarriah had just been promoted and he was doing a lot of poking around. So I wasn’t doing much with you guys in person— since it was between tours.”

“Yeah, makes sense. Charlie and I played a lot of Call of Duty that break.”

“Okay?”

“I just— I was low. And then, finally, we got back into the studio and I could do something, be useful. I was able to sort of bury the darkness.”

“But it didn’t go away?”

Dean shook his head.

“Fast forward and I get this mafia-looking dude telling me I was worth more than just what my dad wanted me to be.”

“Dean—”

“It’s okay. I’ve been over that with Missouri too, just sayin’ why it was such a compliment.”

 Dean rubbed his palms against each other and kind of looked behind you as he kept talking. “So I checked it out, the fights were underground but not, like, dirty. I mean, they fought dirty as hell, but I didn’t feel like I was getting an STD just by walking in.”

“Okay, so you’re no Tyler Durden. What made you stay?”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“The rush of a fight. And you know— I’m hard up for praise— it’s why I love the spotlight and the fans. But it wasn’t like it is with the band. I didn’t even have to work as hard at it as I do with the music— it was only me up there. I didn’t have to answer to anybody else. It was just my hands and the other guys’ that I had to worry about. No harmonies, no compromises. It was easy. And I thought it made me free.”

Dean didn’t meet your eyes, he looked at the wall behind you or the floor. You had never seen him so ashamed, or so outright confessional.

 You inched forward, the need to comfort him tingled along your arms and into your useless hands. “What made you stop? Besides the last tour, obviously, you couldn’t be in two places at once.”

“Uh, so, Cas must have been following me because there was one night where it got really bad. I got really bad— just pummeled a guy to the mat. They— there’s not really refs, more like bouncers to hold back the crowds. But it took three of them to haul my ass to the showers. Cain has doctors on retainer, nobody was gonna call an ambulance and rat the place out. But, he wasn’t moving the last time I got a look at him.”

Dean looked up and into your eyes.

“I still don’t know if that guy is okay or anything. That was my last fight before we hit the road. And Cas called me out, eventually. Let me stew with the unknown and the guilt for a good month first. I didn’t know he needed me. He had his own shit with the kid and stuff then. I just thought— I don’t know. Anyway, you probably got a good handle on what happened after that.”

“So, they’re blackmailing you? Cain and Allistair?”

“Alastair.”

“Him.”

“No, but they’re watching you. They know— they know everyone I care about. Cain thinks I’m letting you guys save me from my true nature. He’s big on instinct and fight or flight crap. But he’s very logical about it all. Alastair—,” Dean blew out the breath he had been holding and dropped onto the floor in front of you, back against the drawers beneath the beds. “He’s a fucking sadist. He wants people to hurt, it’s not just about power—- it’s torture.”

You swallowed. “Don’t you think we need to go to the authorities? They sound dangerous. Really dangerous.”

Dean shook his head. “That’s not an option. Cain is too good, his business is airtight. Nobody talks or walks away. That’s why he’s so insistent. He thinks he can bring me back.”

You didn’t want to know, but you needed to know, so you asked, “do you— would you?”

“No. Not anymore. I’ve come too far. There’s days when I think about it. When it would be easier to just be the beast again. But I’ve got too much to lose. I have the band family, Charlie, Gibson, you—- So no, Trouble, I ain’t going back.”

You smiled at him, softly, not really letting him see how that sent your face burning with all the worry still hanging in the air.

“How can I help? Do I need to enlist Charlie and get our devices better hidden? Change reservations to keep people off our trail? The tour is set, we can’t cancel any dates—- but we can be more careful.”

“Uh, wow, I guess check in with Bobby and Benny? They’re already on top of things, but more eyes on it couldn’t hurt. I— is there anything you want to know? I feel like you’re taking this really well. Like instant problem solving mode. Not even flinching over what— the things I did.”

Dean leveled you with an unimpressed glare and cleared his throat. “Hit me. I can take it.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes as you resituated your legs and propped yourself up on your right hand. “It’s a lot, you know? We knew you were struggling. And we all had been on the receiving end of your temper enough to know not to poke the bear.---- But, I guess, it’s nice knowing, for sure. Like there was something there—- Someones there holding you back, keeping you from us. I’m sorry you had to go through that all alone.”

Dean bumped your knee with his. “Don’t need your pity. But, maybe, your forgiveness. Because I was fucking rotten to you—- more than once.”

“You sure were.” You looked him dead on.

“You’re a part of this band. Whether we say it or not. Even Kevin knows you’re in charge.”

“Pam’s in charge, she just lets everyone run things,” you quipped, an old Bobby line.

Dean chuckled. “Fine. But I am sorry for the things I called you. And how much I leaned on you after Sam and Bobby pulled my head out of my ass.”

“Don’t be.” Dean gave you a face. “Okay, the first part, yes. Be. But the after– that was— it meant a lot. It gave me something to look forward to. Made me feel like I was doing actual friend things instead of work things. Kind of miss the calls— the check-ins. It was a good part of my routine.”

“Yeah, me too.” He sounded so soft, like a favorite blanket waiting for you on the back of the couch. He was right there spilling his guts out and all you wanted to do was crawl into his lap and tell him it was going to be alright. 

You stayed put.

“Thank you— you’ve been— Christ, I couldn’t have done this without you, you know? You pulled me through— in so many ways.”

“Of course. You’d do the same for any one of us. Hell, you did it for Sam more times than I can count.”

“Yeah, but he’s my kid brother. It’s not the same.”

You hummed. “Yeah, but still. Anytime.”

“Hopefully not too soon.”

You huffed a laugh. “Agreed.”

You stretched and sat up on your knees, groaning at being on the floor for so long. “Okay— well, we’ve got like an hour before we get to the hotel. Do you need anything from me before we get to our rooms?”

Dean shook his head and stood up, quickly leaning down to help you the rest of the way. “I should be good, but yeah, check with Benny for the details. And, please, just watch out for Donna and the girls? They’ll be guarded, but I don’t want them thinking we’re neglecting them while we circle the wagons for our own.”

“On it.”

Dean put his hand on the ball of your shoulder and squeezed. You cupped his forearm and caught his weighted stare. It was like he was looking for something behind your eyes, or something there confused him, but either way he didn’t mention it. Instead, he just squeezed your arm again, gave you a guilty smile, and headed back to the front of the bus.

Charlie was invested in Operation Anti-Fight Club, her words not yours. Once you explained, very briefly, what had been going on, she immediately fell into a rabbit hole online. You even had to drag her out of her hotel room to get her to the venue in time for rehearsal the next morning in preparation for the Phoenix show. 

Somehow, she got sound and lights set up with a new venue in what felt like a flash, but was really two hours of back and forth with the band setting up cues and verifying the setlist. 

So when she started texting you during SPS’ set that night, about your conversation with Dean, you were a little worried she was distracted again.

You didn’t reply. From the moment you told her about Dean’s little heart-to-heart she had been asking leading questions and giving you knowing looks. Too worried she was either teasing you or getting your hopes up over nothing, you tried not to overthink it. Sure, Dean had broken things off with Bela with someone in mind. And it maybe, kinda, sorta seemed like he was waiting for you to do something before he left the bunkroom yesterday. But you could have been reading it all wrong. 

It was an emotional conversation.

It didn’t mean he wanted to kiss you.

Right?

Right.

Except now all you could think about was New Year’s. And how you wished you were sober enough to really remember what Dean’s lips felt like against yours.

You had never let yourself want him, not truly. You couldn’t help loving him, you were only human. But admitting to yourself that you wanted him and wanted him to want you back was a death sentence. There was no hope after that. There was not a chance Dean Winchester could be with you, or even someone like you. 

So why were you letting yourself think about it now?

You weren’t, you decided, and made small talk with Jesse instead. 

“You excited to get some days off at home next week?”

“You know it. I miss ridin’, miss sleepin’ somewhere far enough out, the city lights don’t keep me up.”

You smiled and nodded, you grew up somewhere close enough to the country to know what he meant. “Well, one of these days you’ll have to let us swing by. I’d love to see your land.”

The hulking man looked so fond as he reasoned out an uncertain invitation, “well, Matty keeps the place running while we’re on the road, so I’ll have to ask him how’s it all looking for the whole band to swing by for an afternoon. If not this trip, definitely after the tour.”

“Fine! But I won’t forget you said that.”

He chuckled. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

You turned back to the stage as Jodi wailed on their cover of ‘Crazy on You’. Donna was front and center giving it her all. You were once again mesmerized by their talent. Some people were just unreal, having both beauty and brains, strength and kindness. That old, familiar hollowness inched up your throat and twinged the corners of your eyes. You were surrounded by amazing people and all you could do was hover in their shadows. You were a supporting character, you could never exist at that level.

You were a fool to think you ever could.

SPS was phenomenal and they finished their set to whistles and cheers from both the fans and those of you in the wings. They beamed as they marched off stage, heading back to the dressing rooms for a breather before the main event. You cheered them on, knowing you were doing a bad job of masking the way your thoughts had plummeted. Luckily for you, Jesse was a professional and he said nothing as he ducked away to help with PT’s set up.

You rolled your eyes and punched out an annoyed ‘fine’ in the chat. You didn’t want to think about Dean singing about somebody at that moment. What you wanted was a stiff drink and maybe a foot massage. You thought about pulling up your hotel’s amenities, but were caught off guard by Sam and Kevin bellowing your name like a pair of foghorns.

“TROUBBBBBLLLLLLEEEEEE.”

“TRRRRRRRRRRROUBLLE!”

You turned while still looking down at your phone. “Uh, what’s up?” 

But as you glanced up, you got silly string-ed straight to the face. 

“MOTHER FUCKERS!” That had you spitting out air because the foamy substance had grazed your lips. Yuck! With one eye open you charged the overgrown idiots, forcing them to run behind the closest obstacles, gear cases and Benny, respectively.

Benny muttered over his shoulder to a crouching Kevin, “it’s your funeral, cher.”

“Thanks, Benny,” you huffed out as you dodged around the head of security and almost had a hand on Kevin’s collar. “You little shit!”

Kevin cackled as he ran away, too worried about busting your shit in your concert heels, you watched him go. Sam was smart enough to leave quietly amongst the fray, but you promised yourself some revenge down the line. You even knew who you could enlist for help, the last person they would ever expect…

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

@spxideyver

[hippolotamus]

Fuck it Friday 🔥

tagged by my beloved @bidisasterevankinard @tizniz 💖

putting the Fuck in Fuck it Friday with something of a throwback. Every fic that I write has parts that get cut. Stuff that I adored but just didn't gel with the rest of the story. So I keep all that in a notes file because you never know when it might be useful for something else. here's a smutty snip that got cut from Eddie and Buck's drive in date in whatever may come (your heart I will choose)

Buck shimmies himself to the floor, wedging in the space in a way that can’t possibly be good for his leg. “Should you—” “‘M fine, promise,” he insists, looking up at Eddie like he’s near begging and hoping he won’t be told ‘no’. “Just wanna make you feel good, baby. Let me do that. Please?” For all the space he takes up, Buck seems small by the time ‘please’ spills out. Like he’ll only feel worthy if Eddie agrees. His fingers are already on Eddie’s belt, ready to unbuckle it the moment he’s allowed.  They’ve talked about it some, the way Buck feels the need for approval. How he seeks out validation through sex, even now that he’s past his 1.0 stage. Eddie’s still not entirely sure what that means, but he’s learned enough to tell when that’s what Buck is looking for or when he’s simply trying to discipline himself for some perceived wrongdoing. Right now, it seems like a bit of both.  “Sweetheart.” Eddie tips Buck’s head up, so he’s forced to make eye contact. “Remember what I said. There’s no earning here. We can go back up front, watch half the universe disappear, and that’s more than okay.” “I know. I just- please, Eddie. I just want everything to be perfect.” 

He could say something like ‘it already is’, but he knows how much planning Buck would have done to put tonight together. All the behind the scenes work of coordinating schedules, persuading Bobby to let him off early if it was possible, making sure Christopher would be well cared for. Something like ‘it already is’ might sound too placating. He chooses to respond with something 16-year old Eddie never would have considered, let alone done. 

Eddie carefully cards through Buck’s neatly gelled curls. “It is. You are. You did so well.” He can see Buck already beginning to absorb the praise, wearing it like a blanket, sinking into it. “You put this all together for me. For us. I never had to say a thing, you just did it. Because you’re always thinking of other people. Christ, I don’t know how I ever got so lucky with you. You’re always so damn good for me.”

Buck’s fingertips are absentmindedly toying with the clasp on Eddie’s belt, making a light clinking noise. Eddie keeps talking, giving Buck what he needs.

“And, fuck, you’re so gorgeous. All the time, but especially right now. Those beautiful blue eyes and perfect lips. So fucking pretty.” Eddie lightly scratches over Buck’s wrists, his knuckles. “Look at you, so desperate already. Just waiting for me to tell you it’s okay.” 

“Mmhmm.” Buck nods emphatically in agreement. A small whine escapes and his breaths become faster, a little more ragged.

The personality shift always amazes him. As if chatty, exuberant Buck fades away, leaving a version that is a different type of attentive, blindly trusting whatever Eddie tells him. Eddie doesn’t personally understand, but gets that it works for Buck. And he’s not saying anything just for Buck’s benefit, he means every bit of it. 

“You can’t though, can you? Can’t wait to get my dick in your mouth, down your throat. But you have been waiting so patiently even though I know you don’t want to. Because you’re so, so good for me, and I haven’t given you permission yet. Should I?”

Buck pleads. “Eddie, I- please. Gonna be so good for you.”

“I know you are.” Eddie rolls his hips up into Buck’s hands, wants Buck to know the effect he’s having. He flicks his gaze down to his belt buckle, making sure Buck notices. “Go ahead then.”

The three words are barely out before Buck is undoing Eddie’s belt and zipper, opening his jeans just enough to get where he wants. Buck’s breath is warm and damp, mouthing at Eddie’s cock through his boxers, making Eddie’s hips jerk in response. Buck hums, nosing along the thin cotton, teasing like he’s making up for the minutes Eddie made him wait. Finally, he’s parting the slit in the fabric, swirling his tongue around the head, taking Eddie down in microbursts of time. Eddie grips Buck’s hair, not to force him down, just to show his appreciation. 

“That good, baby? Want more?” 

Christ, it’s infuriating how quickly Buck can slip into his cocky side, all smooth and velvet that could make Eddie do anything. “Fuck you. You know the answer.”

“Oh, I do,” he chuckles, adding a series of teasing licks around the head and over the slit. “I just want to hear you say it.”

Eddie waits until Buck is shallowly sucking the head and thrusts up into Buck’s mouth, only once, feeling drunk on the surprised moan it earns him. “You mean you want to hear how fucking talented you are? Because you know I love when you’re all sloppy and desperate, sucking me off like you’re fucking starving? How I can’t wait to come down your throat and watch you take all of it? That what you wanna hear?”

Buck gives a deep, throaty hum in response. The vibrations carry down Eddie’s shaft, making him even more wound up every time Buck’s head bobs, taking Eddie deeper. In the dark, he can’t see the way he prefers. He can’t watch the way Buck’s irises shift between shades, how his pupils dilate and the black dances at the edge of the blue. Even so he can still see the way Buck looks up at him through his lashes. Can feel the warm, wet pressure of Buck’s mouth surrounding him, pressing his tongue to the underside. And the light offers just enough so Eddie can see the slick shine on Buck’s lips. 

“Jesus, do you even know how hot you look like this?” Eddie growls, stroking Buck’s cheek. “How fucking perfect you are? Christ, you’re doing so well for me, being so good.”

He knows he should, but Eddie can’t bring himself to care about the other cars nearby. Not when the windows are dark enough and nobody can probably see them anyway. Not when Buck is sucking harder, and moving faster in response to Eddie’s praise coming out in words and grunts. Especially not when the pressure – pleasure – is coiling tighter, building until he’s digging his fingertips into the underside of his thighs when it all peaks, crashing over him and he can only hope no one else hears the cry that spills out. 

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, content and boneless. “Definitely never had anything like that in high school.”

“Always happy to be of service.” Buck smirks and drops a kiss to Eddie’s softening cock before putting him back together. 

Eddie lazily grabs for Buck, pulling him up into his lap. “Now, what about you?”

“Oh, I can think of a few things.” 

They kiss, deep and slow, Eddie’s fingers tracing swirling patterns along Buck’s spine while he tastes his release on Buck’s tongue. 

“Think you can wait until we get home?” 

“I, uh, I guess?” Buck squirms a little, looking confused and trying to hide his disappointment.

“Perfect, because I have plans for you.” Eddie presses his lips to the tip of Buck’s nose, his cheek and chin, and finally a nip to the curve where his neck meets his shoulder. “How fast can you get us there?”

“Now?”

Eddie relaxes against the headrest, feigning indifference. “I mean our drinks are probably all watered down and your popcorn is gonna be gross now, but we can stay if you really want to.”

“We’ll be home in twenty,” Buck answers, already scrambling to get to the front, thankfully using the doors this time. 

It may not be what Buck originally planned, but, yeah, this is going to be a fun night.

np tagging @diazsdimples @stereopticons @theotherbuckley @daffi-990 @actuallyitsellie

@epicbuddieficrecs @loveyouanyway @diazheartsbuckley @saybiwithme

@spotsandsocks @dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @elvensorceress @dangerpronebuddie

@kitteneddiediaz @your-catfish-friend @thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @wikiangela

@rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings @inell @dorkydiaz @bi-buckrights

@bucksbiawakening @bekkachaos @beyourownanchor6 @lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1

@statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @thelikesofus @wildlife4life @eowon

@rewritetheending @bucksbignaturals @swiftiefirefighters and anyone else who wants to 😘

[blurbfics]

There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part thirteen]

Summary: Azriel attends dinner. The skies provide a bit of comfort, if perhaps not clarity.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, yearning, betrayal, lying, slight deceit, Elain attempting to court Azriel, miscommunication, intentional miscommunication, conflicting emotions, Eowyn in a bad place and Azriel doesn't know what to do

a/n: its been a long minute and I sincerely apologize for that! i got busy around halloween and then with the election results I was just... too upset and disappointed to do anything. but fear not, i haven't completely lost my mojo! sorry for the delay and the slight heartbreak, i promise its gonna get better, it just needs to get a little worse (oops!), also a special shoutout to those that reached out to me to make sure I'm still alive and doing well, thank you guys so much it really means a lot to me <3

Minors, do not interact.

part twelve

masterlist

"She's been loop-the-looping around my mind

Her motorcycle boots give me this kind of

Acrobatic blood, concertina

Cheating heartbeat, rapid fire"

- Arctic Monkeys, She's Thunderstorms

He notes, if perhaps a bit absentmindedly— as he tries his very best to focus on anything but the growing nervousness in the pit of his stomach— that he’s never quite looked at himself in a mirror for this long.

His clothes weren’t too much to cry about, a simple buttoned up black shirt tailor made to accommodate not only his size but his wings as well, and his black pants were casual if perhaps a little more formal than his usual clothes. He couldn’t well go to dinner with Eowyn in his leathers.

He huffed as he adjusted the simple silver cufflinks on his sleeve, reminding himself once again that it was a casual dinner with friends in a group setting, it wasn’t a date, but the thought of sitting with her, sharing a meal with her— he wouldn’t allow himself to linger on the thought of fixing her plate for her unless he wanted his pants to tighten uncomfortably for the rest of the evening (considering he had no time to take care of the issue before dinner)— and what’s more, to possibly have the opportunity to see what she hides behind her veil made the tingles of nervousness to bite at him once again.

Fixing his hair, although he only pushed it from one side to the other and then pushed it back in frustration when it didn’t fall the way he wanted it, he pulled himself away from his reflection, figuring there was nothing more he could do and finally slipped out into the hall towards the dining area.

Before he could hear the people in the room, his shadows rushed back to him, reporting on Cassian, Nesta, and Gwyn’s attendance but not yet Eowyn’s. Figuring it was best if he came in before she did, lest she think he was late, he calmly strode in and nodded in greeting at his friends who cheered upon seeing him, already seeming a few glasses into the wine.

“Am I late?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, finding himself in a rather pleasant mood, if not to say excited.

“Just in time,” Cassian assured him good-naturedly but Azriel needed to only spare him a glance to notice there was something only slightly off about his brother. Unlike Nesta and Gwyn who seemed in rather bright spirits as they both went into the kitchen to bring more wine, Cassian didn’t seem to be drinking at all, his face a little more serene than usual.

“Surprised you agreed to this,” Cassian admitted to him when the girls were out of earshot.

“Why?” Azriel shook his head, as he took a seat, directly in front of his brother to leave them both room for their wings.

“I just.. didn’t think you were interested in her,” Cassian admitted, much to Azriel’s confusion. Hadn’t Cassian been the one pushing Eowyn and Azriel to train together, hadn’t he been the one to gossip to Rhys about his feelings, feelings he could barely even admit to himself, having been so hurt so often by his choices— and he was surprised?

But before Azriel could answer him, Gwyn and Nesta came back in, not yet tipsy but seeming just a little lighter than usual. Their light idle chatter filled the space as they set the items down, followed by the feast the house thoughtfully spawned out for them.

Nesta immediately took her seat at the head of the table to Cassian’s right, leaving her between Cassian and himself, while Gwyn sat on the one directly next to Azriel. He tried to not be bothered by it and the fact that it would leave Eowyn in the seat diagonal to him.

Gwyn grinned widely, if perhaps a bit abashedly at him as she placed the bottle down on the table.

With that action came the realization that the table only had four sets of silverware.

“Here, try this,” he looked up to find a blushing Gwyn gently stacking a small cracker with a creamy spread and thin cold cut of meat for him to try. He felt himself go pale at the forward act.

Food sharing was sacred among fae. No female shared food, especially directly feeding anyone that wasn’t already part of their families. This was solely an act of courtship, something he truly didn’t want to entertain, despite the way he’d seen Gwyn’s eyes following him wherever he went.

Azriel felt at a loss, not knowing how to proceed. What if in an attempt to spare Gwyn’s feelings, he accepted the food and gave her the wrong idea? What if Eowyn walked in and thought the same thing? But what if he disrespected Gwyn’s kind act by rejecting her and ruining the entire dinner?

Since when did he overthink things so much?

“I— thank you,” he tried to smile graciously, but both the words and his facial expression gave away his awkwardness.

His shadows flurried around him in offense at her forwardness.

He took the offered food from her, careful not to touch her as he did and took a small bite.

She watched him with wide expectant eyes. “What do you think?”

“It’s… good,” he cleared his throat to fill the silence.

“Thank you,” she blushed harder, either from his response or out of embarrassment, he wasn’t sure.

“You ladies cook all of this yourselves?” Cassian saved him, the mood lifting with his playful incredulity as he raised a suspicious eyebrow at his mate.

“We had help,” Nesta rolled her eyes.

“We?” He continued to tease, causing Gwyn to laugh lightly, eyes sparkling in glee despite the lingering awkwardness from her interaction with Azriel.

“Nesta made a beautiful layout,” Gwyn defended, waving a hand over the board containing a variety of cheeses, cold meats, and spreads. “Wynnie helped us with a few side dishes and I roasted the chicken and vegetables,” she grinned proudly.

Azriel felt his heart leap at the sound of her name. It offered him the perfect segue to ask about her.

“When is she coming? Is she alright?”

They all turned to look at him and several things happened all at once.

Azriel wondered for a brief second how anyone thought he could make a living out of noticing those kinds of things. He was supposed to be a Spymaster, for Cauldron’s sake! He was supposed to be aware of everything in every room all at once, and yet he hadn’t noticed— or perhaps, he’d  willingly chosen to ignore— that which was so glaringly obvious the second he stepped into the dining room: Eowyn wasn’t here.

Still, all he could do was gather all at once every intake of breath, the barely noticeable gasp leaving Nesta’s lips, the twitch to Gwyn’s jaw and the way her gaze dropped— every minuscule movement everyone in the room made at any given point to give away something they were hiding. Seeking what they knew.

All at once he noticed the way Cassian’s head snapped up to look at his mate, his eyebrows furrowed in a way that spoke of both accusation and betrayal. Gwyn, who was filling a plate either for him or herself froze in place and focused on the plate for a second before looking up at him with something akin to betrayal in her gaze, while Nesta merely stopped chewing on her own bite of cheese and cracker for a second before continuing her slow mastication, gray eyes set firmly on the food she was piling on her plate.

“Eowyn isn’t joining us tonight,” she said simply, all wine playfulness gone.

“Why not?” he couldn’t help but snarl under his breath and this felt much too familiar, much like when he’d snapped at Gwyn the night before as she told him Eowyn’s decision to stop training with him.

“Well, she… said she didn’t want to intrude,” this time Gwyn spoke up, seeming recovered enough to speak although her tone was more questioning than telling. He turned to her and noticed the pink tinge to her cheeks and the glow in her eye was gone, replaced by a paleness to her skin and a distant countenance. “She helped with dinner, but said she didn’t want to be a fifth wheel on our double date.”

He remained silent at that, head blank despite his boiling blood.

“I see,” he spoke stiltedly after a minute of silence.

The tension in the room could be cut with even the dullest of blades and yet there was nothing anyone could do to bring back the lightness. Gwyn, seeming recovered enough, straightened her back and jutted out her chin.  “You came because you thought she would be here?” She confirmed, although they all knew at that point it wasn’t necessary.

Azriel had made it clear to all at this point without needing to say a single word that he cared about Eowyn. Everyone knew. It wasn’t a secret he was trying to keep, he cared about her, that much they all knew. Just how much he cared, he was only starting to figure out himself.

“Yes,” he replied simply yet honestly, wanting nothing more than to get up and leave the room and possibly hunt Eowyn down and demand an explanation.

He thought back to the conversation they’d had that day, attempting to recall her wording.

She’d told him the girls were making dinner and asked if he wanted to join. He wanted to both kick himself for not confirming her presence and scold her for not correcting him when he said he’d see her at dinner. Wanted to rip his own heart out to justify the unrelenting pressure on his chest.

“You love her,” again, she stated rather than asked. 

Azriel remained silent however, and that was all anyone needed to know.

—

He considered going straight to the library and storming into her office to demand an apology, but most importantly, an explanation for her clear deception. 

After the disastrous dinner he’d been blindsided into joining (a rather brief encounter) he found himself taking to the skies instead, needing to clear his head.

He considered everything that had happened in the last few days, or rather, the last few months of his life.

He flew for hours, relishing in the exertion on his back, the soreness of his cold wings, but all he could think about, every possible thought he had, always led back to her and how she’d crept her way into his life

He’d found her…interesting at first, that he couldn’t deny. 

He’d always noticed a quiet spark under those captivating black eyes, a certain knowing look that was both thrilling and challenging in a way few dared to look at him with. She was a breath of fresh air and she was a mystery to him, and the more time they spent together and the more he uncovered the layers that made her her, the more he grew immeasurable fond of her.

He’d sworn, after his brief disappointing fling with Elain, that he would not allow himself to fall in yet another pit of unrequited love.

He’d sworn off females for the sake of his growing desperation for belonging, for a mate, and he’d given up on seeking it and trying to force it to happen with females that were either uninterested in him entirely but were too kind to tell him straight off, or were barely interested in something short while and empty.

That had not been the same with Eowyn. Mostly because his interest in her wasn’t based off of his attraction to her (at least at first) but derived from a curiosity that might’ve remained friendly if not slightly distant had they not spent almost every day together, training in the morning and as of more recently, spending a few hours together in the few and far between occasions he wasn’t needed elsewhere. 

He had subconsciously sought her out every instance he could, and while the itch to see her hadn’t come to him all at once, it was undeniable and ever present now.

While he was self-aware enough to admit that his attraction to her hadn’t spawned in a day, but through the small intimacies shared, the trust and friendship they’d built, as there wasn’t anything licentious rooted in their relationship. He hadn’t salivated after her like some kind of beast, hadn’t even considered crossing any lines with her that went beyond their respective roles as trainer and trainee, for despite the fact that priestesses in Prythian weren’t generally considered pious and virginal maidens, these priestesses were special.

This group of females resided there to stay away from males lusting after them.

Eowyn was never outwardly flirtatious and outspoken, but she was also not meek and docile. 

She was like an impending storm, she was the anticipation between a bolt of lighting and its following thunder. And like a raging rainstorm that had begun in the furthest distance, raging closer with a speed that bade it impossible to escape yet took it’s righteous time to flank him entirely, the tempest was upon him now and despite his careful precautions, he was now caught amidst its chaos and found he never wanted to leave after witnessing its splendor.

He cared not about mates, not anymore. 

He didn’t even care if she didn’t want him the way he wanted her, he simply found he couldn’t be without her. It was beyond the fact that no one truly understood him like she did, no, it wasn’t about him. It was about the privilege of knowing someone like her. 

He’d had a taste of divinity every time he was near her, and he didn’t know how he would go on if he could no longer be by her side, in whatever way she wanted him.

He couldn’t be selfish, not when it came to her. He didn’t know what had been done to her, didn’t know if she was interested in males, interested in him, but he would never expect anything of her. Not when it came to that.

In his roiling thoughts, he wondered if he’d come off too intensely in their last few meetings. He wondered if he’d scared her off by hovering over as close as he could to hear about her well-being. He wondered if… wondered if his pathetic attempt to kiss her had made her think he was an animal of a male who sought nothing more than sex.

He wondered if she cared about him even half as much as he cared about her.

With his jumbled hurt and angry thoughts that merely circled and intertwined in his mind, he found no answers to his growing list of questions and doubts. He was, however, exhausted after flying for five hours straight, and found he couldn’t feel properly surprised when the shadows he’d left behind to guard the library entrance rushed to tell him Eowyn was waiting in the greenhouse.

She sat with her legs crossed on top of a sturdy windowsill at the furthest wall, looking outside with her back to the entrance.

He bit his tongue to hold back from scolding her for it, for her lack of precaution and safety.

“You’re angry,” she stated, rather than asked. 

Not wanting to risk snapping at her and driving her further away, he remained silent.

She sighed at his lack of response and twisted around to face him, although it accomplished nothing as he noted that despite her loose hair, her face was still covered entirely so that he couldn’t even see her eyes.

“I would be too,” she continued.

“Would you,” he snarled through his teeth.

“Yes,” she replied immediately, latching onto his response, “I would. Because what I did was idiotic and insensitive—“ 

“Don’t do that,” he cut her off, “don’t try to empathize with me by putting yourself down.”

She stilled and her back straightened, suddenly looking away and he noticed for the first time that she sat next to Thelxie, and that the once bright and proud flora now dropped sadly at her side, wilting.

She turned to him fully then, legs hanging over the side, back straight and if he could see her eyes, he knew he would see them looking straight at him.

She only gave him a brief nod before speaking. “Ask your questions then.”

Again, he was faced with the closed off and cold Eowyn. He narrowed his eyes at her in disbelief, a pang of guilt and self-deprecation eating at him as he watched her put her true mask on and push him away. For a second, she’d acted like herself, if perhaps layering it on rather thick to get on his good side, but could he not even express justified anger at her clear betrayal without her slinking back into a shell of who she was?

The anger that had been directed at her suddenly turned inward and he chastised himself for it, for he knew better than to allow a blinding and useless emotion such as anger get in the way. He breathed deeply and tried to let the rise of emotions ease into a steady stream.

“Why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t,” she replied, her voice cool and tempered and he realized that in the few seconds it had taken him to calm himself down, she had used that time to do the same and strengthen the walls she erected around herself. Dammit. “Everything I told you about my father— about myself, is true-“

“Not that,” the wave of anger tacked him yet he relented against it, for he’d had much time to think and he now came to realize that although she’d clearly made rather important omissions to her story, she had been truthful in everything she’d shared. Intimacy like that could not be fabricated. “You think you’re so clever, inviting me to dinner with Nesta and Gwyn and not correcting me when I said I’d see you there?”

She remained silent for a beat and he knew, without seeing her face, that she was gaping at him. “I- technically, that’s not a lie—“

“Eowyn,” he snapped.

She sighed, “I’ve no excuse for that,” she spoke quickly and sharply, “that was just me being a coward and not wanting to explain everything after training, and, well-“ she turned her head to look at her plant, gathered herself and spoke with the same speed, if perhaps a bit stiltedly, “Gwyn likes you. That’s all I would hear, every time I came back to myself from those horrible visions. She was by my side and she would tell me you were waiting outside the library walls, always so attentive and caring, and always so kind to her and anyone that would share a bit of news of your dear friend, and she asked me if I— if it would bother me if she asked you to dinner, and why would it? She’s the kindest fae I’ve ever met, she’s brilliant, she’s funny and sweet and beautiful and you deserve nothing less—“

“Eowyn—”

“-and I know I should’ve asked you first,” she nodded quickly, hands fidgeting in her lap, “I know I should’ve, but I was so weary… so tired, and I didn’t want to talk about what the herbalist said, and I just wanted you to give you both… an opportunity.”

If he thought his emotions were jumbled before, they were nothing but a mere puddle in the raging ocean within him now. “Eowyn, that wasn’t your decision to make,” he stated simply, unable to hold his words back, even as she nodded again and hung her head, “do you think I don’t know how she looks at me? You think my shadows don’t keep me aware of her reactions— of anyone’s reactions to me? I’ve been the target of people’s lust just as often as I’ve been the object of their hatred, their fear and disgust. I don’t mean to sound arrogant,” he frowned, feeling uncomfortable speaking in such a haughty way, “but if I wanted Gwyn, I would be with her. She is not the one I want.”

Eowyn gripped the windowsill tightly, her back ramrod straight. “You’re right,” she spoke after a moment of silence, “I’m sorry for deceiving you and for just— going about this all wrong. I should’ve asked you. She should’ve asked you without me being in the middle, but she thought she could trust me and I went and fucked it all up.”

“She should have asked me herself,” he found himself agreeing, listening to her breath as it halted for a beat longer, her only tell in an otherwise unmoved reaction. “That way, I would’ve been clear that I have no interest in her.”

“Right,” she murmured, sufficiently agreeably if perhaps dismissively, “are we not going to talk about the pegasus in the room?”

And while he wanted to push and prod at her to understand why she was actively trying to push him onto her friend after their own day together in the obsidian cave, he knew the subject could not be ignored for much longer. 

“Are you a witch?”

She sighed. “It’s complicated,” she pushed herself off her seat and paced in front of him, one hand resting on her hip while they other pinched the bridge of her nose, “everything I told you about myself is true, I haven’t lied about that, but—“

“Are you a witch?” He repeated.

“Yes,” she snapped, and stopped pacing for a second before she continued, “or I was. I don’t have access to my power anymore.”

His eyebrows furrowed at that, “why not?” And while he was at it, “and why didn’t you tell me?”

“Out of safety,” she turned to him and he couldn’t see her face but he knew that if he could she would be looking at him with incredulity. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t have told your High Lord I’m a witch the second you knew? As a matter of fact, why haven’t I received a visit from the High Lord?” She crossed her arms and looked around as if Rhys would spawn out of thin air.

He frowned at her. “I haven’t told him, and I find it quite offensive you’d suggest otherwise.”

“Is it?” She tilted her head, “don’t you ‘live to serve’?”

His frown deepened, not liking her tone, “don’t use my own words against me.”

“Oh that’s right,” she continued, “you needed to confirm with me first, right? Well go ahead and tell him what you want, it’s not like I’d be of any use to him anyway. I have no way to access my powers even if I wanted to.”

“Stop that,” he scolded, “stop trying to antagonize me.”

“I’m not,” she snapped, suddenly standing before him with her arms crossed over her chest, chin tilted up and he knew that her obsidian eyes were looking straight at him, “I’m simply stating the truth, and if I’m being entirely honest, I don’t blame you: having a witch at your disposal would’ve been helpful during the fight with Hybern but unfortunately for you, there was nothing I could’ve done to help you.”

“I haven’t told Rhys,” he repeated, needing her to understand that. “I wouldn’t.”

“But you thought about it,” it wasn’t a reproach, it was a statement of fact. She knew him well enough to know his duty always came first to him. He was a soldier, he was a warrior and not only was he loyal to his High Lord based on his unfaltering belief in him, but he also held an innate sense of pride in his Court that was as deep-rooted as it was repressed, having been an outcast to his own homeland. Eowyn knew him well enough to know he would have at least briefly considered going to Rhysand.

“It’s fine,” she repeated, almost to herself as if it were a mantra, “Not many… know about that. Only Clotho and now you, but I’m-” she sighed and shook her head, “I’m not who you think I am.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” He took a step forward but stopped when she took a step back.

“I just told you,” she snapped again, but it no longer sounded as firm and decisive as before. “No one knows. No one is supposed to know, and if you knew even half of what I used to be… of what they all expect me to be, you wouldn’t be having this pleasant little conversation with me.”

“Then tell me,” and although his tone was firm, it was out of desperation and need more than anger and frustration. “Nothing you can tell me will change what I know-”

“You-”

“—because I know you and don’t you dare say I don’t. I know you, Eowyn-”

“No, you-“

“I do,” he insisted, refusing to let her cut him off, “I may not know all the details of what you’ve done or what you’ve been through,” and when he stepped towards her that time she didn’t pull away, so he gently took one of her hands and held it between them, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles in a soothing caress, “but I know who you are.”

She remained silent and said nothing more for a long moment before pulling her hand away from his.

“I’m sorry… for what happened today,” she began and the way she collected herself and shifted slightly, looking over his shoulder and towards the door told him she had not and would not budge on the subject, “it was a mistake.”

taglist: @lilah-asteria , @a-courtof-azriel , @honk4emoboyz , @feyretopia , @mrsjna , @buttermilktea11 , @bravo-delta-eccho , @kylieinwonderland , @adventure-awaits13 ,

[muxshwriting]

falling for you

Remus Lupin x Potter!reader

summary: maybe practicing quidditch in the pouring rain while drunk wasn't the best idea. but when have the marauders been known for their sense || warnings: arguing, concussions, falling off broom, worried remus, overprotective james, yelling, passing out, slight blood || word count: 944 || masterlist

"Let's go flying!"

You've been drinking bootleg firewhisky and muggle vodka for an hour or two, letting the buzz wash over you. The boys were tumbling over each other, James and Sirius often falling to the ground and wrestling with each other. You and Remus ended up curled with each other on a chair, sharing a glass of firewhisky.

"Let's not." Remus argues. "It's the middle of the night and we're all tipsy."

Sirius grins, crawling from his spot on the floor to the bottom of the chair. "It'll be fun Moony, we'll be out and back in an hour."

"I don't know. You interject. "Don't you boys have quidditch practise in the morning anyway?" Your quidditch talents weren't good enough to get you a spot on the team but your brother would often practise with you and Sirius during summer. He'd taught you enough for you to keep up with them in a tussle.

"We're flying." James had decided and Sirius agreed so they both dragged you and Remus out of the chair, despite your protests.

Less than ten minutes later, you were standing on the quidditch pitch with your brooms. The air stings your skin and stabs at the back of your throat with every breath. Remus opened his coat to you and let you tuck yourself against his body warmth.

"What are we even gonna do? There's not enough for a proper game."

"That's the fun of it!" James cried. "We're just gonna fuck about, we don't need to do anything proper."

Sirius, already on his broom and floating four feet above the ground, hollered something unintelligible down at them. The wind drowned out his voice as he only flew higher.

"You've drunk too much to be flying." Remus say quietly to you.

"I feel fine. It'll be a bit of fun!"

"You don't have to though."

"Jamie will be mad at me." You're pouting at him, untangling yourself from his jacket and reaching for your broom. "Besides... fun!"

"James-"

Speak of the devil and he will interrupt you. "Are you two lovebirds joining us?"

You raise your eyebrows at Remus, inviting him to join you as you clambered onto your broom, stumbling slightly. You saw the moment he conceded and grabbed his own broom, a drop in his shoulders as he couldn't hide the smile you caused.

Teasingly, you lean over on your broom towards Remus. "I love you."

Remus' eyes widened as you almost fell off your broom. "I love you too. Be careful, yeah?"

"Just for you!"

Raindrops had started to fall, falling faster and faster until it was falling in thick sheets that made it hard to see. Your hands were slipping on your broom, but the other boys didn't seem to be struggling. They called out with glee, chasing each other as the rain soaked through their clothes.

"James?" You call out for your brother on instinct as your hand slips again, getting harder to retain your grip.

The other three boys turn back to you just as a gust of wind takes you by surprise and blows you sideways. You'd had the sense to fly closer to the ground as the rain pelted your skin but the distance is still scary to fall. You caught yourself by your hand, a small scream slipping from your lips. James and Remus flew over just as the broom slips from you fingertips and you tumble to the ground.

There's shouts of your name but you feel like you're underwater, the world blurred at the edges as you feel the wet grass pressing into you. Your head rests where you fell, in too much pain to lift it further.

"Are you okay?" Remus slides next to you, disregarding the mud splattering onto his clothes.

You groan in response, the banging of your head paired with tingling fingers.

"Shit." James ran over, helping you as you sat up. "She's bleeding. Remus?"

"It's okay, nothing Pomfrey can’t fix." His breath hitched as he spoke, turning your head to see the cut for himself. "Okay… That's not- not great."

"What?" Your head is spinning as you look at them.

"Are you dizzy?"

You try to nod before realising that's not the best idea. "Mhm. I'm tired."

"Stay awake, yeah?" James asks, looking to Remus for help.

"I’m awake… I’m…" The world goes dark and the last thing you hear is the boy’s shouts as you fall sideways back onto the ground.

As you come back to consciousness, the persistent throbbing in your head wasn't leaving anytime soon, a mixture of hangover and concussion. The hospital wing is empty apart from the rugged boy sitting in the chair next to your bed. Remus is cradling a book in his arms and letting his head rest against the back of the chair.

Nothing you did made it better so you resigned yourself to the faux darkness of your bed, shutting your eyes to block out the light.

The chair scrapes next to you, the sound scratching across your skull and sent a stab of pain through you. "Babe..." His voice was soft and concerned, making your chest tighter as you tried to open your eyes. "You alive?"

"Barely." You groan as the bedsheet is pulled back and light streams into your vision.

"You had us worried for a second."

The opportunity for a joke was never one you missed. "You shouldn’t worry babe, I’m positively falling for you."

Remus gawked, not computing what you said for a couple seconds. "You did not just say that!"

You wince at his volume. "Quieter please, and I did. And I’m proud of it, 10/10 would say again."

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

More NSFW bittersweet trio? Camping trip mayhaps?

Call that the freaky woods.

Ngl giggling at the name. Alps let's say it's a spicy pt2 to this fic

"I'm so horny right now...." Blurting out, Alphonse then turned back to see the other two looking at him. "What? I am!"

Snorting out a laugh, Sugarboo fell backwards onto the grass. Seth just sighed looking at the pinkette and opened his mouth to say something.

"It's not my fault your in a tight shirt and Boo always looks hot!" Throwing his hands up Alphonse then crossed them looking away. Huffing as he looked at Boo giggling holding their sides.

That was a few minutes ago after enjoying the second day of their camping trip. But now it seems Alphonse got distracted by how hot the two people he's here with.

"And how you want us to make up for it? Huh babe?" Chuckling Seth gave a seductive look, making Al open his mouth to retort but closed it. The sight was really cute seeing how Alphonse couldn't say anything in reply.

"Awww, and look how hard you are honey!" Cooing out Sugar got off the floor and positioned themselves between the candy man's legs. Letting their hand softly touch his thigh and go up to where his erection was.

Moaning slightly, the pink haired man's legs twitched as Boo finally touched him. Then Seth came up beside him giving Alphonse a smirk.

"Come on pretty boy. Cat got your tongue?" Asking teasingly, Seth let his hands go into the taller man's shirt. Pinching Alphonse's nipples slightly as he arched his back a bit.

"Ah! Oi! Not so hard! Fuck- Boo! Don't just touch my dick suddenly!" Stuttering, Alphonse was blushing furiously as the two started teasing him. The baker between his legs batted their eyes looking up at him, innocently.

"But I thought you would want that. Always did like it when I used you as a sucker." Giggling at their joke Boo started unzipping his pants. Before Alphonse could respond Seth kissed gently at his neck.

"Yeah, Al, don't you want Sugar to use that mouth of theirs?" Whispering low in his ear, Seth smirked seeing the shiver that racket through Alphonse's body. The pink haired man huffed looking at the two of them.

"I wouldn't mind! Just needed a warning. Your pinching my nips- Ah! Seth-" Cutting himself off Alphonse moaned as the brunette continued playing with his nipples. Saying fuck it and pulling the pink haired man's shirt all the way up to get full access to them.

Positioning himself behind the pinkette, Seth chuckled as he tweaked with the soft nipples. Enjoying how Alphonse was moaning, while Boo finally got Alphonse's dick out of his pants.

"Your moans are so cute! Wonder how loud your gonna be when I suck you off!" Giggling, Sugar kissed the tip of his dick before taking it all into their mouth. Letting out a loud moan, Alphonse writhed under both of their teasing.

Throwing his head against Seth's shoulder the tall man turned to get a kiss. Seeing this the brunette hummed as he began roughly kissing Alphonse. All the while pinching and teasing his nipples.

Below Sugar maintained eye contact with both of them. Taking Alphonse deeper into their throat, smiling at how the moans were getting louder. Turning their eyes to Seth, the baker threw a wink before sucking harder.

"Fuck! Boo- yeah like that-" Whining Alphonse panted at the sensations of having his dick sucked and nipples played with. With the addition of Seth leaning down to give kisses along his neck.

After Boo bobbed their head a few more times Alphomse gasped as he cummed down their throat. Panting as he tried catching his breath, then looked at both of them. Smirking as he brought pulled Boo into a kiss.

"Hey want me to return the favor? For both of you?" Asking Alphonse brought one hand to Sugarboo's arousal and to Seth's hard on. The brunette gave a huff before unbuckling his pants and Boo followed.

Looking at the two Alphonse couldn't help but feel himself getting hard again. Suddenly the pinkette wanted to have someone in his mouth while the other fucked him like a whore. Chuckling, the three knew it was going to be a long day before they are all satisfied.

[logmore]

hello logmore! silly question but i was curious about your thoughts on like a dragon: infinite wealth so far. you mentioned being bored by the first few chapters (fair) so i’m curious what your impression is now that you’ve played more of it. i wish sega was a bit more transparent about the development of the yakuza games because im kind of fascinated by some of the decisions they made in this one

I finished the game last night so I can reply now. I will talk about Infinite Wealth spoilers here:

Things I like:

Combat: Just Yakuza 7 combat but fleshed out, which is perfect. Being able to position your character is great, the team chain attacks and weapon attacks and stuff are fun to set up. The one flaw with it is that it does not interact with Kiryu very well, and by the end I was actually doing less damage with Kiryu if I got a tag team or weapon attack instead of a basic Brawler attack.

Classes: There were a lot of classes I ignored in 7 because they just weren't doing anything; it was just better to leave Joongi, Zhao, and Eri as their defaults and go to town. I think 8 has an improved skill inheritance system that made it more worthwhile to try out different classes, so by the end I switched every character away from their base class. Desperado and Aquanaut stood out as being very flexible and fun.

Kiryu: Technically this is an Ichiban game, but its more of a send-off to Kiryu than anything. I like how there was a ton of content dedicated to Kiryu revisiting characters from the past games, delivered in a way that I still liked it even though I only played 0 and 1. I thought the way they introduced leveling up his stances + gaining the ability to go beat-em-up mode was pretty clever. I also liked equipping him with gear that gave him buffs every turn so he could tear enemies apart like King's Hawaiian rolls.

Yamai: They knew what they were cooking here. You have to fight this guy like 4 times and I enjoyed it every time. He's cool, he looks cool, even the main characters say he is cool, and if he isn't playable in Yakuza 9 I'm gonna be astounded.

Things I don't:

Slow start: The first chapter got me pretty invested, but after Ichiban goes to Hawaii the story is a fucking slog for like 15 hours. I got so bored I stopped playing, and when I came back it finally picked up again.

Side content that I wasn't ever going to do: This is the reason the start of the story is so slow. I'm sure Dondoko Island and Crazy UberEats and all that is fun, but it isn't the type of thing I'm playing these games for, and when so much time in the story is spent ramping up all these side games to play, I just feel like I'm wasting my time. Next game might as well have a Virtua Fighter 6 tournament in the middle of it, why not?

Villains: Bryce and Ebina are just lame characters. This is a game with essentially 2 final bosses, but neither of them have the emotional core or the weight of the bosses from 7. Bryce is literally just 'a weird guy shows up', and while I understand what they were going for with Ebina, his goals seem so disconnected from what the protagonists are experiencing that him taking his shirt off and fighting Kiryu doesn't feel like a real climax. Getting Danny Trejo on board was a pretty inspired choice, but you fight Dwight so early that it framed him as a weakling that didn't matter. And he keeps coming back, in spite of that! There were a few showdowns in 7 where it felt high stakes/intense, but in 8 they had to bust out Sawashiro again to capture that.

Managing 2 parties at the same time: On one hand its cool because it means I get to use every party member, but I wish they bumped up the XP of whatever party you weren't playing, so that when you switched between them they were both at the same level. There were a couple of points where I had to grind because the difficulty of the content was scaling based on what my previous party had left off at, so I needed to get my current party to that level first. I also had to spend a lot of time doing the dungeons to get the materials for weapon upgrades on 9 characters. Just kind of time consuming, but it isn't the worst thing in the world.

Tatara Channel: Its dumb, but this is the only thing in the game that actually made me mad. The social media aspect of the story already feels dated in a way, and I don't care about Vtubers to begin with, but the thing that actually got me upset about this shit is that all the Tatara Channel scenes are just story recaps with unskippable dialog where something relevant MIGHT happen at the end. At one point I got tired of it and just skipped the cutscene, and then all of the sudden Kiryu is in front of Tojo HQ ready to fight. I hope they never deliver a plot in this way ever again

Even though I wrote more negative things than positive things, I still liked this game a lot. 7 is a way better story, but I think Ichiban and Kiryu are just too strong of protagonists to truly hate on the story, even if a lot of things surrounding it are dumb. I'm looking forward to playing pirates with Majima, and I will wish on a genie's lamp for Yamai to come back as a playable berserker-type character