#it is the middle of the night and my phone is on 2 percent but THIS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eringobragh420 · 10 days ago

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── .✦ SICK LOVE SONG (2/3)

➔ Pairing — CM Punk ❤︎ f!Reader ❤︎ Seth Rollins ➔ Summary — On their one year anniversary, Punk and Seth have to take care of their girlfriend. 1 | 2 | 3 ➔ Word Count — 3.9k ➔ Warnings — NSFW. Mention of stalking/attempted kidnapping, panic attacks, threesome, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, cum. 18+ ➔ Taglist — If you’d like to be added, please click here! ➔ Support — Buy me a coffee! ☕ ➔ MASTERLIST

A ringing cell phone jolted the three of them back to consciousness—different muscles moving for different people. Punk rubbed his face into his warm pillow, willing the caller to give up after one ring, but he wasn’t so lucky. As he reached toward the nightstand, he felt his girlfriend’s dainty arm sliding off him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Seth tucked into her back. The two of them were in the middle of the bed, Punk forced to the edge of the mattress, and there was a time when it’d pissed him off, when he’d felt like they were trying to literally shove him out of bed. But he’d come to realize, as he’d gotten hotter and hotter in the night, he’d naturally rolled away to try and cool off. And his girlfriend, naturally, had followed him, wrapping herself around him whether he liked it or not. And Seth? Well, he chased her, and it was a never-ending cycle that Punk wouldn’t give up for anything.

Punk felt around on the nightstand for the ringing, vibrating phone, and once he realized it was hers, he held it over his shoulder for her to take, eyes closing, not bothering to read the caller ID.

It would come to be one of his greatest regrets in life.

His girlfriend whined, shoving at his back, but Punk insisted, shaking the phone in what he thought was at least the vicinity of her face, until she eventually snatched it from him. She cleared her throat, but it did nothing to dispel the rasp before she answered.

“Hello? Oh, hi … ”

Punk closed his eyes, stretching, noticing but not really comprehending her change of tone while he tried to find a comfortable position so he could go back to sleep. His girlfriend babbling on the phone wouldn’t bother him in the least. He began to drift off when the woman behind him started shuffling, sitting up, scooting toward the foot of the bed instead of simply climbing over one of the men flanking her on either side, which was her usual escape route.

“No, but … what?” she asked. Punk’s eyebrow quirked. Seth shifted behind him, probably creating space between him and Punk, and then he was snoring again. “I just need you to explain it one more time,” his girlfriend went on, somewhere in the room, but now further away. Worried she might clam up in an effort to protect him from the subject matter, Punk didn’t move, didn’t say a word—just made sure his ear was pointed in her direction so he didn’t miss anything. “So you’re … So you’re saying my case isn’t as important … as the other one?” Her voice not only cracked, but the volume was rising.

Punk was awake now, sitting up, blankets and sheets bunching around the bottom half of his body. He carded his tattooed fingers through his unruly hair a couple of times, mostly out of nervous habit. The Revolutionary stirred but continued snoring.

“And there’s nothing you can do?” his girlfriend rambled. “Did you even try? I mean … this isn’t right, right? He can’t just get away with—”

Punk stood, pulling on the boxer briefs he’d tossed to the floor the night prior, and rounded the bed as he approached his hyperventilating girlfriend. He could guess at the substance of the conversation, but he could predict with one hundred percent accuracy what would happen once she hung up the phone with, Punk suspected, her lawyer. If only he’d looked at the caller ID—the lawyer would’ve had to deal with him instead. He reached for the phone, but he was a nanosecond too late—he watched with wide eyes as she threw the device with all the might she could muster, shattering the mirror above the dresser and next to the television. As the shards scattered on the dresser, pieces of cell phone mixed within, Seth Rollins finally came to. He launched himself out of bed, fists clenched, biceps flexed, looking for his girlfriend and ready to throw a punch if she was in danger. Punk loved that about him—she always came first for Seth, just as she did for Punk.

“Oh, my god,” the woman wept, doubling over, and suddenly she was a million times smaller than she should have been.

“What is it?” Seth demanded, still glancing around the room as if an assailant was somehow hiding somewhere in plain sight.

Punk had an idea, though he wasn’t about to voice his guess. Instead he slowly, carefully approached his girlfriend—he probably wouldn’t be able to stop it, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.

“He’s getting out,” she sobbed. Punk and Seth’s eyes met. “He’s gonna testify in some other case that’s more important than mine, and then they’re gonna let him go!”

“What?” Seth asked, brows furrowed, shaking his head, a little more than disoriented. He stood there, naked as the day he was born, naked as the weeping woman in the middle of the hotel room, but it seemed to bother no one.

“He’s getting out!” she screamed on a level Punk had never heard before, but the wince on Seth’s face and the flinching of his eyes suggested maybe he had. “He’s getting out and …” She trailed off, widened eyes falling to the floor, and Punk could almost hear the wrench lodging itself in the wheels of her muddled mind. “… and he’s gonna find me.”

“No, he’s not,” Seth replied, hands up, cautiously nearing her.

“He’s gonna find me,” she whispered, her hands grabbing at one another, wringing, releasing, doing it all over again. Her rounded eyes were still glued to the floor. “He’s gonna find me and finish what he started because there’s someone more important.” The last sentence was hardly comprehensible—she began hiccuping between every word, inhaling and exhaling in short bursts.

Under any other circumstances, Punk would have been the first one with his arms around her, whispering into her ear that everything was going to be okay, that he and Seth wouldn’t let anything happen to her, and then hopefully she’d calm her breathing, eventually her mind. But her words replayed in his brain—someone more important, and he’s gonna find me. Vermillion bled into Punk’s vision. Who’d made the decision that this woman’s life was less important? And what exactly could Punk do to him to change his mind?

Instead of rushing to the love of his life, he rushed for his phone on the nightstand. Seth went into action at the same time, though he crossed the room to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. As Punk searched for the lawyer’s number in his list of contacts, he watched the display out of the corner of his eye and he was able to hear the high-pitched wheezing in his girlfriend’s lungs. There was no stopping it now—the only action would be management. Seth wrapped his arms around her, and she responded by screaming into his chest—the most agonizing, fucking heart-wrenching wail Punk had ever heard. He should have been over there with Seth trying to calm her down, but for reasons unknown, this call was more important. The two of them collapsed to the hard floor of the hotel room, on the other side of the bed where Punk could only see the back of their heads.

“Yeah, put Max on the phone now,” Punk demanded of the receptionist once she answered.

“I’m sorry, sir, he’s—”

“I know, he’s scared of me. If you don’t put him on the phone, I’ll show up at his house, and I really don’t think he wants to see my pretty face anytime soon.”

“Hold, please.”

Punk rolled his eyes, hand balling into a fist, willpower barely strong enough to keep him from punching the nearest wall. The familiar screams of panic were bubbling in his girlfriend’s chest, becoming louder and louder. Soon they were going to have a problem with the hotel staff, if they weren’t on their way already.

“This is Max,” the lawyer suddenly came on the line.

“Max. Punk here. You wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?”

As the attorney babbled legal jargon into Punk’s ear like Punk wasn’t smart enough to understand any of it, he watched Seth try to get up from the floor. The panicking woman refused to relent her grip, throwing her arms around his neck, and Seth sat right back on the floor, enveloping her in his arms once more.

“Get her pills and her bag from my suitcase,” Seth said in one of Punk’s ears while the other was trying to focus on Max’s half-assed explanation as to why he wasn’t able to give Punk any pertinent information, considering they weren’t married.

“I don’t give a fuck if we’re not married,” Punk hollered. “That’s our wife!” His heart stopped long enough for him to notice, and Seth’s mahogany eyes met Punk’s emerald ones. Punk swallowed. “That’s my wife,” he quietly corrected himself. “I want information, and you better fucking give it to me.”

“Punk,” Seth interrupted, voice on the brink of breaking, “hang up the goddamn phone, and get her pills and the bag out of my suitcase.”

However reluctant, Punk knew he was beat. The lawyer wasn’t going to budge, and his girlfriend needed him more. Punk hung up his phone, tossing it on the bed, and he dug into Seth’s front suitcase pocket where he knew he kept her pills and the brown paper bag she hadn’t needed in months. He rolled his eyes at the bag, but handed both items to his enemy-turned-friend-turned-brother before flipping on a light. Punk felt like an outside observer, a passerby, as Seth held a blue pill between his thumb and forefinger, opening her mouth with his other hand, and shoving the pill down her throat until she swallowed. Much like one forced a dog to take a pill, but she was in no condition to follow commands, let alone focus enough to put a pill in her mouth and gulp it down with water. Next, Seth grabbed the bag, cradling the back of her head as he placed it over her mouth, his fingers creating a seal around her lips to keep oxygen from escaping. It wouldn’t stop the panic attack by any means, but sometimes it helped in slowing her breathing, thereby preventing her from passing out.

“The bag doesn’t work,” Punk vomited words before even thinking about them, instantly regretting opening his mouth at all.

Seth looked at him over his girlfriend’s head, eyes wide, cautionary. “Can you just shut the fuck up for two minutes and come over here and hold your wife?”

Punk sighed, knowing damn well he deserved the jab. He sat beside them on the unforgiving floor, pulling the now mildly hysterical woman into his lap, her bare back to his chest, and his hand replaced Seth’s as the seal around the bag and her mouth. Seth pulled the blanket from the bed, laying it out across the three of them—the woman they shared still stark naked—then he began his duty of rubbing his girlfriend’s legs—thighs, calves, feet, simply gliding his large, coarse hands along her unblemished, satiny skin, letting her feel him, reminding her he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“So he has information for some kind of high-profile case,” Seth theorized quietly. The woman with the puffy eyes and clammy skin was now in and out of consciousness as the pill promised to take effect. “And he asked for immunity in exchange for his testimony.”

The “justice” system would inevitably release a man back into society who had openly stalked, harassed, threatened, and tried to kidnap a defenseless woman. Why wouldn’t he do it again, Punk thought. Why wouldn’t he try to finish the job? He’d been stupid enough to try it once—Punk had no doubt he was stupid enough to try it twice, but this time, he’d have to deal with CM Punk.

“That would be my guess,” Punk replied, vision still distorted by blots of crimson.

It started when the three of them had arrived at the couple’s hotel room. She’d entered first, sauntering purposely in front of both men, who shared lord help us looks as they followed. Standing in the middle of the room and at the foot of the king-size bed, she hooked her hands behind her back, shoulders swiveling as she’d waited for the men to decide how they wanted to handle this.

It started because Punk had intertwined their fingers behind her back, their noses kissing as he said loud enough for Seth to hear, “If you guys don’t mind, I’m just gonna hang out over here for a while.” He nodded at the chair in the corner of the room. His girlfriend bit her lip, eyes falling, and Punk had gently taken her elbow in his hand, leading her a bit further away from Seth, who was removing his suit jacket and tossing it over the back of the computer chair tucked under the desk. “Listen,” Punk said, her gaze lifting to meet his, “I’ve always thought it’d be kinda hot … or really hot … to watch you with another guy.” Her eyes widened. “Seth Rollins wouldn’t have been my first choice, but—” He shrugged. “Are you sure?” she’d asked.

It started because Punk had taken her hand and placed it on the growing bulge in his slacks, a sly smile forming on his girlfriend’s lips. “I’m sure.” He’d kissed her then, cupping her flushed face, and after a moment of enjoying her, Punk had turned her to face Seth, his hands on her shoulders. Seth’s eyes had exploded in black as the two of them stared at one another. Punk remembered the sudden blistering heat that had overwhelmed him, and the way his girlfriend’s breath had hitched under the microscope of Seth Rollins’ devilish gaze. “Think you can handle her?”Punk had asked. “I’m ready to find out,” Seth had replied, wiggling his fingers. “Come here.”

It started because Punk had kissed the top of her head, holding her for a bit longer than anticipated, but he’d let her go, watching her put distance between them as she closed the space between her and Seth.

The pill finally had taken its full effect, sending the maniacal woman into a sound sleep, and because of the pill she’d be given, she probably wouldn’t remember a whole lot of what had happened. Punk and Seth might have to deliver the bad news all over again. She remained tucked into Punk’s chest, his strong, tattooed arms wrapped around her, while Seth had bent her legs and his, bringing her knees to his lips where he rubbed his beard along her skin, knowing how much she loved the sensation.

“You remember the first attack?” Seth asked, lips rubbing along her knee. Punk inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. He remembered, and while it had been Seth’s first panic attack, it hadn’t been Punk’s.

It started when she’d kissed Seth the first time. Stevie Wonder could have seen the passion between them, heard the desire, the longing—it wasn’t just pleasure in their moans, but also something like relief. Had they been wanting each other longer than any of them had realized?

It started because Punk had sat in the chair in the corner of the room after removing his own jacket and unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt before rolling them up his sinewy forearms. And he’d watched closely as his girlfriend and Seth freakin’ Rollins reverently removed one another’s clothing, Punk almost feeling as though he’d been watching some shitty Hallmark movie with the way their fingers glided along one another’s skin, as they moved perfectly in sync as if all along they’d been made for and led to this moment. Punk wanted to hate the way Seth touched her, all soft and careful, delicate, as if she were the most priceless piece of artwork—much different than the way Punk had handled her. Rough, a bit degrading—basically the only type of sex he’d ever known—the type of porn he watched. But how could he hate a man who treated his girlfriend with such respect, such adoration? How could he hate a man who’d saved his girlfriend’s life? Punk had worried about her sensitivity toward Rollins, however—worried she might want him more, or maybe she’d want only Seth. But then she’d asked for Punk, begged for him, as Seth had fucked into her at a pace Punk knew he wasn’t even capable of: agonizingly slowly.

It started because Punk had stood from the chair and taken his clothes off, watching as Seth rolled his girlfriend over, pulling her up onto her hands and knees. Stroking his leaking cock, Punk had stepped up to her face, her jaw already dropped, and inserted himself into her hot, wet mouth. She’d moaned, back arching, and sucked Punk as she bounced her ass back against Seth, her cunt drawing him in deeper and deeper. Punk had watched then, watched as Seth’s hands had swept across her bowed back, gently familiarizing himself with each and every one of her curves, reaching around to cradle a breast and tweak a nipple. “I’m gonna cum,” she’d moaned suddenly, Punk’s saliva-coated cock slipping out of her mouth.

It started because Punk had grabbed her face, pressing his lips to hers, swallowing every moan and scream as Seth Rollins made her cum all over Seth Rollins’ cock, and it took a lot of strength on Punk’s part to ignore how goddamn hard she’d cum. Seth had draped himself over her back, hand under her breast, thumb between them, and he kissed, sucked, and bit at her shoulder.

It started because she’d tucked her fingers under Seth’s over her ribcage, squeezing his hand, doing the same to Punk’s hand on her cheek, and suddenly Seth had to pull away and pull out, shooting rope after rope of pearly cum all over the valley of her spine, filling the tiny divots just above her ass.

It started because Punk had lost all ability to think as he’d watched the scene unfold, jerking himself with abandon, his girlfriend covered in the cum of another man, and before long he’d shot his own load all over her face.

It started in the middle of the night. She’d been having a nightmare, as she had been prone to having since the incident. In his experience, Punk knew it best not to wake her up, much like the advice of not waking a sleepwalker, lest she believe she was waking up from one nightmare only to be thrust into another, but Seth hadn’t known that, and neither she nor Punk had prepared him. Seth had shaken her shoulder, demanded she wake up, and before Punk could stop him, his girlfriend had jolted awake and burst bolt upright, screaming and swinging. Her fist had connected squarely with Seth’s left eye, sending the Visionary stumbling backward, and while Punk’s immediate reaction was to cackle uncontrollably, he’d chosen to tighten his arms around the still-fighting woman, her much smaller frame no match for his. “It’s okay,” he’d whispered, stubble brushing her ear, and her body shivered. “It’s just us. It’s just Punk and Seth. No one else is here.” He’d then ordered Seth to turn the light on so she could actually see them, see that he was telling the truth, but neither of their faces sparked any peace inside of her.

It started because Seth had gaped, watching dumbly as the scene unfolded, hand covering his swelling eye, until he began to act. He’d pulled the elastic band from his wrist and pulled his hair back into an unruly, uneven bun at the base of his skull before asking, “What can I do? How do I help?” Punk himself had stared at the nervous, brown-eyed man for a moment or two, then told him to retrieve the pills and paper bag from the nightstand, which he’d kept stocked with everything his girlfriend needed in the event of a panic attack in every hotel they stayed in, as well as the apartment they’d shared.

It started because Punk had shoved an anxiety pill down her throat, the same way Seth had just done, and then he’d positioned the bag over her mouth. As she hyperventilated, the worn out bag collapsed and expanded, collapsed and expanded, and she weakly fought against Punk’s efforts to help. Her entire body vibrated with the quick breaths, eyes wide but unseeing. Until Seth had sat beside her and pulled her restless legs into his lap, hands slipping along her skin, over her knees, squeezing her thighs, cupping her seemingly tiny feet in both hands to warm them up.

It started because she’d made eye contact with Seth and held it, finally recognizing him, finally remembering who she was with, and she’d reached out for him. Their hands had clasped at her hip, and she’d raised her other hand to cradle Punk’s still firmly holding the bag against her mouth. The time it took for her to calm down and fall asleep had suddenly been nearly cut in half. “You can take off if you want,” Punk had told Seth, pulling the bag from his snoring girlfriend’s mouth. Gazing down at the woman between them, an indescribable look on his face, eye already changing colors, Seth had shaken his head. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“We gotta do something for her,” Punk said, silently communicating and working with Seth to carefully lift their girlfriend—wife?—off the floor and back to the middle of the bed, agreeing to call housekeeping in the morning before anybody got out of bed to clean up the shards of broken mirror. “Take her somewhere.”

Seth helped to rearrange the blankets and pillows, touching the sleeping woman’s hair before kissing her forehead. “What about Tulum?” he quietly asked. “She likes it there.”

Punk watched, eyes narrowing, as Seth crawled under the covers beside her, placing his hand on her chest, pressing his face into the side of hers. Punk loved his girlfriend like nothing and no one else, and he loved Seth Rollins as a brother and best friend, and, somewhere along the way, he’d fallen in love with the way Seth loved their girlfriend. Softly, wholeheartedly, proudly—the man had fallen hard and fast, much the same way Punk had, so Punk hadn’t really been surprised. But loving Seth Rollins—even in a platonic way—had not been on any of his life-related bingo cards.

“It’ll take a while to get our schedules together,” Punk ultimately said. “Maybe a few months.” He climbed into bed on the opposite side of their girlfriend, but he stayed sat up against the headboard.

“Whatever it takes,” Seth mumbled.

Soon, Seth’s breathing evened out, still cuddled as closely as possible to the sleeping woman. Looking at them, Punk knew Seth would take care of her if anything ever happened to him. And in that moment, he made a decision that would likely end in that very scenario.

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hanadulsetaad · 1 year ago

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RICH KIDS OF SK ( HYUNJIN X READER (Y/N) X BANG CHAN)

THE HWANG ART GALA

chapter 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7.1 CHAPTER 7.2 CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

TAGS: LOVE TRIANGLE, ANGST, BREAKUP, BETRAYAL

As Y/N dashed through the corridors of the college building, her heart pounding in her chest, she couldn't help but curse the chaotic night that had led to this mad rush. Wooyoung, I.N, and she had indulged in a bit too much alcohol and ended up bleaching their hair and wreaking havoc on Wooyoung's belongings. It took Felix's midnight rescue mission to restore some semblance of order, and by the time they settled down, the sun was already peering through the windows. After that they thought it will be fun to make tanghulu and make mukbang videos, and it was 8am by the time they were done.

So there she was, sprinting to class, desperately hoping to avoid any awkward encounters with Yeji and Hyunjin As she glanced back, she caught sight of another latecomer, a guy with curly hair and boba eyes, looking equally harried but undeniably attractive in his all-black ensemble.

Their eyes met, and without a word, he fell into step beside her. "Room 203?" he asked, his voice slightly breathless.

"Yeah," Y/N confirmed, relieved to have some company in her tardiness. "Let's stick together and minimize the scolding."

"By the way, I'm Bang Chan," he offered with a charming smile.

"Hey, I'm Seo Y/N," she replied, returning the smile as they found seats at the back of the room, accompanied by Bang Chan's friend Seungmin.

As they settled in, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of Hyunjin's curious gaze from the middle row. What was that weird look about? She pondered, silently hoping that their morning wouldn't get any more eventful than it already had been. but a notification poped on her phone.

Teacher: "I think everyone understood what I am saying."

Y/N looked up as Seungmin cleared his throat, "Since you were not listening, you, me, and Bang Chan are partners for the first internal."

Y/N replied, "Oh, sorry, I had an emergency. Can you please give me a gist?"

Seungmin rolled his eyes, "We have to work together throughout the semester, basically work on a fake company and pitch ideas and all. You will get a mail today."

Seungmin added, "By the way, my name is Kim Seungmin."

Y/N replied, "My name is Seo Y/N."

Seungmin asked, "Are you Changbin's sister?"

Y/N confirmed, "Oh, yes."

Bang Chan chimed in, "You're Bin's sister?"

Seungmin teased, "Well, she has the same surname and dumb look on her face."

Y/N smiled, realizing what Seungmin implied, "Hey, I don't look dumb like Bin. But how do you guys know him?"

Bang Chan explained, "Oh, I met him through night music school."

Y/N puzzled, "Music school?"

Before she could ask anything, Hyunjin cleared his throat, and all three of them looked at him. He was with Yeji, holding hands.

Hyunjin semi-hugged Y/N, "I saved you a seat, you know. Now we both won't be on the same project, very good."

Y/N thought, "How can he be so normal?"

Y/N replied, "Haha, it's fine."

Hyunjin gave Bang Chan and Seungmin a look and asked Y/N in a hushed tone, "Are you fine with doing your project with them? I mean, it has 70 percent of your grade."

Seungmin jumped in, "You know we can hear you, Prince?" (He called him prince in a mocking way)

Y/N retorted, "Hey, Hyunjin, don't be rude. Besides, yes, they are Changbin's friends."

Hyunjin brushed it off, "Whatever," after giving Seungmin one last dirty look and continued, "Can't wait for today's after-party. It's been like so long since we last talked. Also, I need to talk to you. Do you want to ride with me and Yeji?"

Y/N immediately replied, "Oh, no, I am gonna stay back and talk with them about the project."

Hyunjin said, "Okay, see you later," and Yeji smiled at Y/N.

Y/N banged her head on the desk after Hyunjin left. Seungmin quipped, "If I was you, I would have the same reaction."

Y/N gave him a confused look, and Seungmin added, "I use Twitter too."

Y/N hid her face, groaning, "Ugh, this is so embarrassing. I want to die."

Bang Chan looked confused, "How do you know what is happening to her?"

Seungmin smirked, "I keep up with gossip sites."

Seungmin suggested, "Since we are working together, let's exchange our numbers." Later, all three of them exchanged numbers and had a decent conversation. Y/N found Seungmin extremely funny, especially when he was teasing Bang Chan about being old.

As they were laughing, Bang Chan removed his mask to take a sip of coffee, and Y/N swear the whole world stopped. He had dimples and very cute boba eyes, his eyes were so pretty you could see the innocence in them. He had perfect hair paired with perfect curly hair.

Seungmin joked, "Hey, earth to Y/N!" snapping her back to reality. Bang Chan looked at her in a concerning way, "Are you okay? You zoned out."

Y/N stuttered, "Oh yeah, by the way, what is the time?"

Seungmin checked his watch, "4:30."

Y/N exclaimed, "Shit, I am getting late! Guys, it was so nice talking to you. See you later!" and ran.

Bang Chan and Seungmin looked at each other, and Bang Chan asked, "So what happened to her?"

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pumpkinfreak · 3 months ago

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Heroes In The City Pt 2

Eel tried not to move. A task much easier to manage when you're not grossly hungover, but he had to hightail it across town shortly after Diana left. He had a meeting to eavesdrop on.

He laid on a coffee table posing as an ashtray, dying from dehydration and trying not to squirm from the hot ashes smoldering on his back. If he hadn’t been fighting the urge to vomit he would have picked a better object.

It was another cheating spouse case, not the PI work he dreamed of but it paid the bills. He hadn’t had much luck catching this particular husband in the act, but maybe he would talk to his buddies about it, and he was. Meaning he just had to wait until everyone left the room and he could drop off his recording to the soon to be ex wife.

“ Did you hear about Wonder Woman?” The friend asked the husband. “ What about her?”

Plas perked up; he was on the edge of falling asleep when the conversation changed direction. “ You’ll never guess who she went out with last night. Plastic Man, can you believe that. It’s all over the news.”

Plas bit into his tongue as the husband ground out his cigar. “ No way, isn’t that guy a felon?” There was a shuffling sound as the husband reached for his phone. Plas cursed himself, ironically he thought ditching his sunglasses last night would make him less conspicuous.

A stupid thought considering his mug shot had been shared around for nearly twenty years before he got his powers. “ I’ll be damned, even Wonder Woman doesn’t have any standards.” He laughed a wet smoker's laugh that sounded more like choking.

“ You think they smashed?” The friend asked.

“ Probably, with as much attention as she gets. She’s ran through, has to be. I bet she’s been with every guy in the league at least once.” Said the man currently cheating on his wife. That fact didn’t make Plas feel any better, he felt like throwing up for entirely different reasons now.

***

Wonder Woman came into one of the many rec rooms on the Watchtower. A group of women were crowded in the corner. Vixen, Power Girl, Bat Girl, and Black Canary was in the middle of them.

“ Finally!” Power Girl exclaimed gesturing at Wonder Woman. “ Diana is here, now spill. Why did you call us up here?” She asked Black Canary.

Diana came close. “ Is everything alright?” Black Canary displayed her hand to everyone. A fat shiny diamond on her finger. Feminine shrieks of excitement echoed off the walls. Diana picked Canary up into a hug. “ Oh, I’m so happy for you!”

Canary smiled so hard her eyes crinkled. “ I want you all up there with me when the time comes.” She said, as Diana put her down. The conversation went from wedding venues to dresses, and finally to dates.

“ Well we all know who Diana is bringing.” Vixen commented. “ I completely forgot about that! Diana, what happened last night?” Black Canary asked. Wonder Woman rolled her eyes. “ It was not a date. We just bumped into each other.” The girls all shared looks with each other.

“What? Nothing happened. We got drinks, listened to music and talked. It was fun.” Vixen pointed at her.

“Did you sleep with him? Everyone looks ten percent hotter when you're drunk, none of us would blame you.” Power Girl nodded. “ I’ve been there.” She agreed.

“ No, I didn’t sleep with him because it wasn’t a date.” Diana crossed her arms, “Even if it was, why does it matter?” Canary sighed a light little sound. “ I like Plas too Diana but…is he someone who deserves you. I mean there are a million guys out there who are more on your level.”

The door to the rec room swished open. Plastic Man stepped into the room. “Ooh, her man heard us talking about him.”Vixen whispered.

Plas came up to the table they were gathered at. “ Hey, do you gals think I could borrow Wonder Woman for a minute?” Diana didn’t wait for a response and got up, following Plas out into the hallway.

“ Sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt, but you left these at my place.” Reaching inside himself Plas pulled out her heels from the night before. “ Thank you Patrick.” Plas kept his eyes on the floor. “ I’m also sorry about…everything else.”

Wonder Woman put the shoes down. “ I don’t care about any of those articles. We had fun, that's all that matters.” Plas pushed his glasses into his hair. “ I think you should. It was fun but everyone else seems fixated on you potentially dating a felon.”

Diana scoffed. “ Please, how many people on this space station have slept with their own villains? The answer is a lot. This whole thing is ridiculous!”

In the deepest parts of himself he knew she was right, but still. He couldn’t shake what he had heard today. Plas smiled a small smile. “ Listen, You’re Wonder Woman, everyone looks up to you, and everyone laughs at me. I don’t want to be the reason you lose any respect.”

Sliding his goggles back down he slithered up into the ventilation system to put as much distance between them as quickly as possible.

#plastic man #wonder woman #ship fic #slow burn #fluff #dc fanfic #fanfiction #diana prince #I did not spell check this #I’m dyslexic and tipsy please have mercy #dc comics #I think Plas would like Miranda I can’t explain it

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stuckinthesprings · 1 month ago

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location: middle of the woods status: closed @wildmead

Her morning has been good. Exceptionally good. She'd even dare to say perhaps one of the best since her relocation; her outfit is cute, her usual cold brew really hit the spot, and the weather is nothing short of absolutely divine. And, while it’s no city sidewalk, bustling with wild characters bounding between high-rises and bodegas, she has to admit that there’s an admirable quaintness about the Springs. So she decides to take a walk.

The edge of town provides a trail, lush and photogenic. Her airpods are in, she’s taking selfies, and— oh my god, there’s even a cute little bridge, lodged over a trilling creek. The trees sway lazily, bushes thick with ripening berries and flowers beginning to bloom; it’s as if she’s stepping into a cottagecore hashtag. She moseys on along for about as long as it takes her to finish her coffee, and once the cup is hollow but for semi-melted ice, she turns around.

Except, she doesn’t end up back at the beginning of the trail.

Okay, weird… But she doesn’t panic. She turns around again, the sounds of Pop 2 keeping her optimistic. But not for long. The trees are starting to look different; taller, more menacing. Panic. She unlocks her phone, taps Zelda’s contact, and presses call. Seconds pass, but she doesn’t hear a thing; brows furrow as she examines the top right corner of the screen in absolute horror. No Service. Then the battery. 8 percent. She inhales sharply, nearly ripping her airpods out. Fuck. That stupid house and its stupid fucking outlets.

“Hello?!” She yells, to the response of nothing but flighty birds. Her steps are more frenzied, now. She tries any which way she possibly can, doing everything in her power to try and remember how the hell she ended up here. But it only gets worse. Like, the sun is now starting to set, worse.

This is it. It’s officially over. She had a good run.

That doesn’t mean she wants to give up easily. Her phone is dead, what’s left in her cup is gone, her clothes are dirty, her makeup is done for, and her throat hurts from crying. Crashing out is an understatement. But she’s still rushing through the woods like a dog let loose, yelping at every creepy-crawly thing she sees on the way.

“Helloooo?!” Her voice is hoarse at this point, but what can she say? Spending all night out here is not an option. There has to be somebody. Please. Just let there be somebody.

She hears a rustle. Not a tree. Not an animal. Something. Something manmade, flapping against the wind. She hastens towards it, and just there in the distance, she sees it. A tent. And next to it? The meager beginnings of a campfire. “Oh my god,” she exhales, balancing herself against nearly every tree as she bounds closer. “Hello? Hey! Anyone there?!” She calls, her tears evident in her voice as they threaten to leak out all over again. She cannot feasibly go on another second; she’s starving, terrified, and, most notably, not cut out for this.

#laurie

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my-castles-crumbling · 3 months ago

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Anonymous Advise Asks - February 10

6 anon, three hearts anon, angry anon, unnamed anon (new), confused 2 anon (new)

6 anon

We made it to states on a wild card placement, and the chances of that were like 2 percent! TWO, and we got it!!! I am very happy. I got 2 superior awards and 1 excellence award. However the downside is that it's in Detroit, but it's ok because my best friends are going to watch so yippeeee

OMG that's amazing, I'm so excited for you!!! Please keep me updated and tell me how it goes!

_____________________

Three Hearts Anon

So if I'm understanding correctly, you can't go to therapy because of something your aunt did? I mean I don't know the whole situation but...I don't think you should sacrifice your mental health to protect her. Like...you're the kid in this situation, you know? You deserve to get help.

Also I promise you that everyone you love does not hate you. I have definitely felt like that before and I get how it feels all-consuming, but there are people who care aboutyou, I swear <3

________________

Angry Anon

Hello, Cas! Angry anon here lol

I want to say THANK YOU for taking the time to reply!! It helped me quite a bit to calm down.

I started writing fanfics for the first time and also made some art that people liked even tho they were pretty messy :D It helped me vent A LOT. I could even talk about stuff that could potentially trigger other people but in fanfics they're just there (like eating habits).

I feel guilty talking about stuff with friends. I think I weight them down and they already have their own problems to deal with, I hate being another one of those.

My situation still kinda sucks but for the first time in like two weeks they actually let me sleep for six hours three days in a row ayy, I think that's improvement (?)! I think one of the reasons I was so upset was them not letting me rest at all, it's different if someone stays up so late and wake up in the middle of the night and has to go places early morning because they just do but was kinda frustrating that I needed to do that because they didn't give me any other choice.

Anyway, I also tried the paper crumpling, didn't really work for me and there's no rage rooms nearby but I put googly eyes on my phone and that somehow worked?? Idk

I might vent here occasionally (you're free to ignore it if you feel like it) but yeah, thanks

Hi! I'm so proud of you for finding ways to cope! Writing and drawing are amazing ways, and though I've never tried putting googly eyes on my phone- if it works and it doesn;t hurt anyone I'm all for it! I'm also really glad you've gotten some sleep <3 Keep it up with the healthy coping!

Also yes, you are always allowed to vent here <3

_________________

Unnamed Anon

Hey cas

I'm not gonna use my anon name cause I feel kinda bad about this but.

Backstory- I think I might be bi? But I live in a very religious very homophobic community and I'm not interested in dating yet ( Honestly im super confused) so I'm not out. And I probably won't be. Which is. A whole other thing.

But. This girl (I'm a girl) I've had a crush on for the longest time. I think she's straight. Anyway I really like her. And like... romantically, platonically, however she'll have me, pathetic I know but she's amazing. I applied to the college she's going to just... because of her. Which no one knows. But anyway.

She was dating this guy. I never met him. I only knew in passing. And she apparently just broke up with him. And like, secretly I'm a little happy. Which I feel terrible about! But she's handling it okay, not heartbroken, and it means she has more time for me (it's not like she'd date me now, she's just not doing boyfriend stuff) So idk. I just feel confused and yucky.

Side note, it means she probably doesn't have a prom date? She'll probably get one cause she's super pretty and amazing and everything but like... idk. The delusion lives on.

Even if she wasn't straight and I was out, she's kinda out of my league. I think I'll never forget her tho.

Thanks for being you

Hi <3 I think it's absolutely okay and natural to feel confused about all this, especially with your upbringing. But please know that none of what you're feeling is wrong or bad- even the mixed feelings about your crush's breakup!

Honestly, I think we've all felt like that before- a bit happy (and a bit guilty for feeling happy) when something like this happens. It's not like you're celebrating over a tragedy like a death or a fire or anything like that. You're not even outwardly celebrating! If it was one of those things, then I might say you should feel guilty. But you're not, so please don't beat yourself up. If it makes you feel any better, once I asked a guy out like four hours after he broke up with his girlfriend bc I was so excited he was single...it happens.

_________________

#6 anon #angry anon #three hearts anon #unnamed anon #confused 2 anon #asks #ask #ask cas

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layce2015 · 2 years ago

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Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

I Believe The Children Are Our Future

Masterlist pt 1

Masterlist pt 2

"Agents Page, Lee and Plant, FBI." I introduced to the doctor as the boys and I show him our badges. "Gentlemen and lady. What brings you by?" the doctor asked us. "We need to see Amber Freer's body." Sam said. "Really? What for?" the doctor asked us. "The police report said something clawed through her skull?" Dean said, questioning. "You didn't read the autopsy report that I emailed out this morning?" The Doctor asked us, catching us off guard.

"W-we had, uh, server issues." I said and the doctor walks away, we follow him.

The doctor opens one of the freezers and pulls out the slab with Amber's body. He tosses back the sheet from her head. "When they brought her in, we thought she was attacked by a wolf or something." He explain. "Or something." I said, raising an eyebrow. "But we were wrong." the doctors said and he picks up a plastic bag from the slab and shows it to us.

"Is that a—" Sam said and the Doctor nods. "It's a press-on nail. We found it in her temporal lobe." he said. "Is that even possible?" I asked him. "Wait, are you—you saying that she did this to herself?" Dean asked the Doctor. "Uh-huh. She scratched her brains out. It'd take hours, and it'd hurt like hell, but sure—it's possible." The Doctor said.

"How?" Dean asked. "Pick your acronym—OCD, PCP. It all spells crazy." the doctor said as Sam pulls back the sheet a little further. Amber's right hand has four press-on nails still attached; the middle finger has nothing. "My guess, some kind of phantom itch. I mean, an extreme case, but..." The Doctor said. "Phantom itch?" Sam asked. "Yup." the Doctor said and he covers Amber's head and slides the slab back into the freezer, closing the door.

"All it takes is someone talking about an itch—or thinking about one, even—and suddenly you can't stop scratching." he said and I nod. "Thanks, doc." I said as Sam scratches under his collar, Dean scratches his ear and I scratch the back of my head.

Later, we were in Jimmy's house and Sam was sitting in the armchair in the living room, holding a notebook and pen, and Jimmy's father and Francine are sitting on the sofa. Dean and I wander around behind them. "Okay. Okay, now, some of these questions might seem a bit odd, but please just bear with me. Have you noticed any cold spots in the house?" Sam asked them. "Uh...no." Jimmy's dad said, a look of confusion on his face.

"Okay, uh, what about strange smells?" Sam asked as Dena and I look around the corner to see Jimmy. "Whatcha lookin' for?" he asked us. "Don't know yet." Dean said as I walk up to Jimmy. "It's, uh, Jimmy, right?" I asked and he nods.

"So, Amber was your babysitter?" I asked him. "Yes, ma'am." He said. "Yeah, most of my babysitters sucked. Especially Ms. Chancey. She only cared about two things. Dynasty and bedtime." Dean said before he chuckles and I roll my eyes.

"Did you, uh, you see anything strange that night?" I asked Jimmy. "No, ma'am." Jimmy said. "You sure about that?" Dean asked. "I—I would tell you if I knew something." he said and Dean and I look at the kid. "I promise. One hundred percent. Cross my heart." Jimmy said and Dean looks back over his shoulder, then back at Jimmy.

"Well, Jimmy, I, uh...I happen to know you're lying." Dean said to him and Jimmy looks a bit terrified. "I'm not." Jimmy said and Dean leans down and puts a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "We gonna start talking truth, or are you and me gonna have to take a little trip downtown?" Dean asked him and Jimmy gives us, wide eyes.

Later, the boys and I were leaving when Dean holds up a packet of itching powder. "Kid said he put this on the babysitter's hairbrush." Dean said to Sam. "Dean, there's no way itching powder made that girl scratch her brains out. It's just ground-up maple seeds." Sam said. "If you have any other theories, we're open to 'em." I said as a cell phone rings.

Sam pulls his out and answers it while Dean opens the back driver side door of the Impala for me. "Aw, such a gentleman." I said to him as I climb in and Dean smiles then shuts the door and gets into the driver's seat. "Yeah? ...Yeah, we'll be right there." Sam said as he goes around the car.

Back at the hospital, a nurse zips up a body bag and he and another nurse roll it out of the room while the Doctor watches from the corridor as we come up behind him. "What happened?" Sam asked him. "Guy got electrocuted." the doctor replied as he turns to us.

"Any idea how?" Dean asked. "Eh, maybe a loose wire or a piece of equipment shorted out. So far, we haven't found anything." the doctor said. "Witnesses?" I asked. "Yeah, guy in there—Mr. Stanley." the doctor said as he points to an old man sitting in a chair in the room, looking out the window. "He says he saw it, but he's not making a lick of sense. Senile." the doctor said said. "Thanks." Sam said and we enter the room as the doctor leaves.

"Um, Mr. Stanley?" Sam asked as we walk up to the old man. "It was just a joke. I didn't know it would really work." Stanley said, upset. "What would work?" Dean asked him and Stanley looks at Dean. "All I did was shake his hand." he said and he holds out his hand, showing us that he is holding a joy buzzer.

At the motel, Dean puts on a pair of goggles and a pair of gloves, then adjusts the goggles and picks up the joy buzzer. He looks at the joy buzzer for a moment, then turns to me and Sam. "You ready?" Dean asked us. "Hit it, Mr. Wizard." I said as Sam and I hold another pair of goggles to our eyes.

There is a large uncooked ham in two stacked aluminum-foil pans sitting on the table in front of Dean. Dean holds the joy buzzer over the ham, hesitates, and presses it to the ham. Electricity crackles and steam rises from the ham as it changes color.

When the ham is blackened, Dean removes the joy buzzer and the ham sizzles. Sam and I lower the goggles and gawk as Dean flips up the dark-plastic visor on the goggles. "That'll do, pig." he mutters. "What the hell?" Sam said, shocked.

Dean takes off the goggles, still staring at the now-cooked ham. "That crap isn't supposed to work." I said. "This thing doesn't even have batteries." Dean said as he takes off one glove and removes the other.

"So...so, what? Are—are we looking at cursed objects?" I asked. "Sounds good." Dean said as he pulls out a knife, flips it open, and cuts a piece off the ham. "Maybe there's a powerful witch in town." he said and he eats the piece of ham. "Is there any link between the, uh, the joy buzzer and the itching powder?" he asked us as I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Uh, one was made in China, the other Mexico, but they were both bought from the same store." Sam said as Dean cuts off another piece of ham. "Hmm." Dean hums then he holds up the piece of ham. Sam and I shake our heads and Dean proceeds to eat the ham.

We enter a joke shop and the door chimes as we walk in. Someone laughs and the door chimes again as we walk around. "Guys!" Dean said as he picks up a whoopee cushion and holds it up, grinning. Sam sighs and shakes his head, turning away. "You are such a child." I said to Dean as he goes and brings the whoopee cushion up to the checkout counter, which has a display of rubber chickens next to it.

Then an older gentleman comes out of the back room. "Welcome to the Conjurarium, sanctum of magic and mystery." he said as Sam and I come up to the counter. "You the owner?" Sam asked him. "Yep." the man said. "You sold any itching powder or joy buzzers lately?" Dean asked him. "Yeah, a grand total of one of each. They aren't exactly big-ticket items. Look, you three here to buy something or what?" the owner asked us.

Dean pulls some cash out of his wallet, holds up the whoopee cushion, and hands the owner the cash. "So, you get many customers?" I asked him. "Kids come in. They don't buy much, but they're more than happy to break stuff. These days, all they care about are their iPhones and those kissing-vampire movies. The whole thing makes me just—" the owner said then Dean finishes his sentence. "Angry?" he asked.

The Owner pauses, then nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I am angry. This shop has been my life for twenty years, and now it's wasting away to nothing." he said. "Which is why you hate them." Dean said. "I suppose." The owner said, shrugging. "You wish there was something you could do about it." Dean said. "Yeah, I guess I do." the owner said.

"So you're taking revenge." Dean accuses as he pulls a rubber chicken off the display and slaps it down on the counter. "With this." he said and he holds up the joy buzzer and presses it to the rubber chicken, electricity crackles. The Owner yelps and leaps back. "Oh! No!" he screams as the rubber chicken melts.

The owner stares, making inarticulate noises, while the boys and I watch him. "Yeah, something tells me this guy is not a powerful witch." I said. "Sorry. Sorry." Dean said to him and we leave.

The next day, Sam and I leave the hospital room with this man who had his teeth pulled and head to the corridor where Dean was talking to a nurse, who was obviously checking him out.

She leaves as Sam and I approach Dean, who turns to us. "What's up with Toothless? Cavity creeps get ahold of him?" he asked us. "Yeah. Close. He wrote up a description." Sam said and he reads from his notebook. "Five foot ten, three hundred fifty pounds, wings, and a pink tutu. Said it was the tooth fairy." Sam said and Dean narrows his eyes in confusion.

"So he's obviously whacked out on painkillers." He said. "Maybe. Whatever it was got past locked doors and windows without triggering the alarm." I said, shrugging. "Come on. Tooth fairy?" Dean said, disbelieving. "And it left thirty-two quarters underneath his pillow. One for each tooth." Sam said and Dean nods.

"Well, I will see your crazy and raise you some. There's a couple of kids upstairs with stomach ulcers—say they got it from mixing Pop Rocks and Coke. Another guy...his face...froze that way." Dean said. "What way?" I asked. Dean looks in all directions, then pulls out the sides of his mouth and crosses his eyes. He holds it for a moment and lets go.

"He, uh, held it too long, and it—it stuck. They're flying in a plastic surgeon." Dean said as he pokes at his cheeks and wiggles his chin. "So, I mean, if you add all that up..." Sam hesitates and Dean and I raise our eyebrows. "I got nothing." Sam said and he starts down the hallway past Dean, who turns around to walk alongside him, I follow.

"I thought sea-monkeys were real." Dean said. "They are. They're brine shrimp." I said. "No, no, no, I mean like in the ads. You know, like the sea-monkey wife cooks the pot roast for the sea-monkey husband, and the sea-monkey kids play with the dog in a sea-monkey castle—real. I mean, I was six, but I believed it." Dean said. "Okay." Sam said, unsure where Dean was going with this.

"Point is..." Dean said and he stops. Sam and I stop and turn to him. "Maybe that's the connection. The tooth fairy, the Pop Rocks and Coke, the joy buzzer that shocks you—they're all lies that kids believe." Dean said. "And now they're coming true. Okay, so whatever's doing this is—is reshaping reality. It has the powers of a god. Or—" Sam stops and I roll my eyes. "—of a trickster." I added and Sam nods.

"Yeah, with the sense of humor of a nine-year-old." Dean said. "Or you." I add and Sam laughs and we walk off.

Later, Sam and I come into the motel room to see Dean sitting at the table, taking a bit out of a sandwich, obviously made from that ham he cooked. "Dude, seriously—still with the ham?" Sam asked as he holds up the map we found. "We don't have a fridge." Dean replied, through the mouthful of food he had.

"Hey, don't talk with your mouth full." I scolded him as I shut the door and Sam puts the map down in front of Dean. "Well, we found something." Sam said and Dean stands up for a better view. Sam points to a red X on the map for every incident. "Um, tooth fairy attack was here, Pop Rocks and Coke was here, then you've got itching powder, face freeze, and joy buzzer—all located within a two-mile radius." Sam explains as he indicates the area containing all the red X's.

"So, we got a blast zone of weird, and inside, fantasy becomes reality." Dean said. "Looks like." I said, nodding. "And what's the A-bomb at its center?" Dean asked. "Four acres of farmland...and a house." I said and Dean looks between me and Sam.

A mail truck drives past the house and past the Impala, as we pull up and park. The boys and I, wearing suits, get out and cross the street, walking up to the house. Dean checks Ruby's knife, which is tucked into his belt. Sam bends down to pick the lock, but straightens up in a hurry when the door opens, revealing a young boy.

"Can I help you?" He asked us. "Hi. Uh, what's your name?" I asked him. "Who wants to know?" the boy asked, suspiciously, and Dean, Sam and I glance at each other.

"The, uh..." Dean said then he clears his throat and pulls out his badge, showing it to the boy while Sam and I go for our badges. "FBI." Dean said as we hold up our badges. "Let me see that." the boy said as he takes Dean's badge and examines then hands it back.

"So, what, you guys don't knock?" he asked us as Sam and I put our badges away. "Are your parents home?" I asked him. "They work." the boy replied. "Well, you mind if we ask you a few questions, maybe take a look around the house?" Sam asked. "I don't know." the boy said.

"Come on. You can trust us. We're the authorities." Dean said as he holds up his badge again but the boy looked unimpressed. He glances between us as we try to smile reassuringly.

The boy leads us into his house as he goes to the kitchen and turns off the stove, where there was a pot of food boiling. We follow him into the kitchen, looking around. "What's that?" Sam asked, nodding to the pot. "It's called soup." the boy replied as he takes the pot off the stove. "You heat it up and you eat it." he said, sounding like it was obvious, and Sam chuckles.

"Right. I, I know. It's just, um...I used to make my own dinner, too, when I was a kid." Sam said. "Well, I'm not a kid." the boy grumbles as Dean notices the artwork on the fridge.

"Right. No, I, I know. Um..." Sam stammers then he holds out a hand. "I'm Robert, by the way." he introduced and the boys shakes his hand and then I hold mine out. "And I'm Sheila." I said and he takes my hand. "Jesse." the kid said.

"Jesse, nice to meet you." I said as Dean steps closer, holding a picture of a bearded man with pink wings and tutu. "Did you draw this?" he asked and Jesse turns to him and nods. "It's the tooth fairy." he states.

"That's what you think the tooth fairy looks like, huh?" Dean asked. "Yeah. My dad told me about him." Jesse said and Dean glances at me and Sam. "Huh." Dean huffs. "What, didn't your dad tell you about the tooth fairy?" Jesse asked him. "My dad?" Dean chuckles. "My dad told me different stories." he said. "Well, the tooth fairy isn't a story." Jesse said, firmly.

"What do you know about itching powder, Jesse?" I asked him. "That stuff will make you scratch your brains out." Jesse said. "Pop Rocks and Coke?" Dean asked. "You mix them, and you'll end up in the hospital. Everyone knows that." Jesse said then Dean pulls the joy buzzer out of his pocket and holds it up.

"You shouldn't have that." Jesse said. "Why not?" Dean asked. "It can electrocute you." Jesse said. "Actually, it can't. It's just a wind-up toy. It's totally harmless. Doesn't even have batteries." Dean said. "So it can't shock you?" Jesse asked. "Nope. Not at all. I swear." Dean said. "Oh. Okay." Jesse said.

"I mean, all it does is just shake in your hand. It's kind of lame. See?" Dean said and he presses the joy buzzer to Sam's chest. It buzzes and Sam stiffens up and turns to Dean, looking murderous, while I hold back my laughter.

"What did you say your name was, again?" Dean asked Jesse.

"Dude, what the hell?" Sam asked Dean as we leave Jesse's house. "I had a hunch. I went with it." Dean said. "You risked my ass on a hunch?" Sam asked him, angrily. "You're fine." Dean said, not worried, and I roll my eyes. "Besides, now we know who's turning this town into Willy Wonka's worst nightmare." I said. "The kid." Sam said and he stops and so does me and Dean.

"Yeah. Everything Jesse believes comes true. He thinks the tooth fairy looks like Belushi, uh, joy buzzers really shock people, boom, that's what happens." Dean said. "Yeah, but convince him the joy buzzers don't actually work, and they go from killing machines back into crap toys." Sam said. "He probably doesn't even know he's doing it." I said and we look back at the house.

The curtains on an upstairs window part and Jesse looks out at us and Dean waves. "How is he doing it?" Dean asked as we walk away.

Back at the motel, I was sitting on a bed, watching TV, while Dean was reading some book. Sam had just left to go do some research on Jesse, so it was just me and Dean here. I flipped through the channels until I found this channel that played Dr. Sexy, MD. I smiled and left it on as I continued to watch it.

Dean raises his head to the TV just as a nurse grabs the collar of the doctor's white coat. "Please, doctor, it has to be you. You have to save this boy. If you don't, then..." She said, in a exaggerated dramatic manner. "You'll what?" The doctor asked, also dramatic. "I'll quit this job." She said.

"Oh, God, you gotta be kidding me." Dean grumbles. "What? Have to keep up with my stories." I said. "You are such a girl." Dean said. "Well, last I checked...I am a girl." I said. “Yeah, but you’re like a badass hunter girl. When did you become a rom-com girl?” Dean asked. “I don’t know. When did you become a cartoon smut girl?” I asked.

“It’s called anime and it’s an art form.” Dean said, defensively. I rolled my eyes and turn back to the TV. “Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.” He said. “I could say the same to you.” I replied, pointing the remote towards the TV.

Dean look at it and scoffs. “You can’t be serious.” He said, annoyed. “I have the remote, I pick the show, and you shut your cakehole.” I said, tapping his nose with the remote.

Dean shakes his head and begins watching Dr. Sexy with me, annoyed. After a couple scenes, the doctor and the nurse started making out in the on-call room and Dean sits forward, completely riveted. "Alright, now we're talking." He said and I laugh. "Of course, that would get your attention I laughed and Dean turns his head to me.

"Well, you didn't say there was sex scenes." He said, a bit of a smirk on his lips. "My God, you are the horniest man I've ever met." I said and Dean looks over at me, a mischievous grin on his face. "And it's never gonna change, princess." Dean said and I scoff out a laugh. "I would hope not, otherwise you'd explode." I said.

At that moment, Sam walks in and I turn the TV off. "So, dug up what I could on Jesse Turner. It's not much. Uh, B student, won last year's Pinewood Derby. But get this. Jesse was adopted. His birth records are sealed." Sam explained as he shuts the door behind him.

"So you unsealed them, and?" Dean asked. "There's no father listed, but Jesse's biological mom is named Julia Wright. She lives in Elk Creek, on the other side of the state." Sam said and Dean and I share a look. "Sounds like a road trip." I said and we get up and head out.

A sign reading "NO TRESPASSING" hangs on the gate of a rusty, overgrown fence. Deqn pushes the gate open and walks through, Sam and I right behind. We walk around to the front door, which has two deadbolts, and Dean rings the doorbell. Then a voice, probably Julia, speaks through the door without opening

"Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested." She said and Dean looks at us for a moment. "We're not salesmen. Agents Page, Lee and Plant, FBI." Dean said as we pull out our badges and hold them up to the peephole. "Put your badge in the slot. Your partners', too." Julia said and Dean does as she asked.

There was a pause before we head the locks clatter and the door opens, revealing a woman with shoulder length blonde hair and she looked tired and frazzled. "What do you want?" Julia asked as she hands out badges back.

"Um..." Sam said as we put our badges away. "We just had a few questions. About your son." Sam said. "I don't have a son." Julia said. "He was born March twenty-ninth, nineteen ninety-eight, in Omaha." Sam said and Julia looks up, her face expressionless. "You put him up for adoption?" Sam said and Julia sighs.

"What about him?" she asked. "We were just wondering, um, was it...was it a normal pregnancy?" I asked and she says nothing. "Was there anything strange?" Dean asked then Julia slams the door.

"Stay away from me!" she shouts. "Mrs. Wright, wait!" Dean said then he pushes the door open and we follow Julia inside. She runs to the kitchen and shuts the door, but Dean pushes the door open. "We just want to talk!" Dean said as Julia grabs a canister of table salt, wrenches it open, and tosses the contents at us. She stares at us as if she expected something to happen to us.

"You're not demons?" She asked us. "How do you know about demons?" I asked her and she looks down at the floor.

Later, Julia sits at the table with a cup of tea, the boys and I sit across from her. She sets the cup on a saucer and folds her arms. "I was possessed. A demon took control of my body, and I hurt people. I killed people." she said. "That, that wasn't you." Sam said. "But I was there. I heard a woman beg for mercy. I...felt a young girl's blood drip down my hands." Julia said, her voice shaking.

"That's how you knew about the salt." Dean said. "Yeah, I picked up tricks. It was in my head for months." Julia said. "How many months?" I asked her. "Nine." she replied. "So your son..." Sam said, realizing, and Julia nods. "Yeah, the whole time. The pregnancy, birth—all of it. I was possessed. The night the baby was born, I was alone. And the pain was—the pain was overwhelming. I, I screamed, and it came out a laugh, because the demon was happy. It used my body to give birth to a child. When it was over, something changed. Maybe the—the demon was tired or if the pain helped me fight it, but...Somehow, I took control. And the demon wailed inside me. It pounded against my skull. I thought my head was gonna explode. But I knew. I knew what I had to do. And when I was alone with the baby...A part of me...part of me wanted to kill it." Julia explains then she begins to cry.

"But, God help me, I couldn't do that. So, I put it up for adoption, and I ran." She said. "Who was the father?" Dean asked her. "I was a virgin." Julia said and the boys and I look at each other, worried.

"Have you seen my son? Is he human?" She asked us. "His name's Jesse. He lives in, uh, Alliance. He's a good kid." I said and Julia nods.

"So, now what?" Sam asked as we leave her house. "We need help." Dean said as he pulls out his phone.

Sometime later, we enter the motel room and look up to see Castiel waiting for us. "I take it you got our message." Sam said as he sits at the table and Dean closes the door. "It's lucky you found the boy." Castiel said. "Oh, yeah, real lucky." Dean said, sarcastically.

"What do we do with him?" I asked Castiel. "Kill him." he said, plainly, and we all stop and stare at him, shocked. "Cas." Dean mutters. "This child is half demon and half human, but it's far more powerful than either. Other cultures call this hybrid cambion or katako. You know him as the antichrist." Castiel said and he sits at the table, where a fart noise sounds out. It continues as poor Cas shifts positions.

"That wasn't me." Castiel said as he pulls out a whoopee cushion. "Who put that there?" Dean asked and I elbow his side while Cas tosses the whoopee cushion aside.

"Anyway, I don't get it. Jesse is the devil's son?" Sam asked and Cas sighs. "No, of course not. Your Bible gets more wrong than it does right. The antichrist is not Lucifer's child. It's just demon spawn. But it is one of the devil's greatest weapons in the war against heaven." he said.

"Well, if Jesse's a demonic howitzer, then what the hell's he doing in Nebraska?" I asked. "The demons lost him. They can't find him. But they're looking." Castiel explains. "And they lost him because?" Dean asked. "Because of the child's power. It hides him from both angels and demons. For now." Castiel said.

"So he's got, like, a force field around him. Well, that's great. Problem solved." Dean said. "With Lucifer risen, this child grows strong. Soon, he will do more than just make a few toys come to life—something that will draw the demons to him. The demons will find this child. Lucifer will twist this boy to his purpose. And then, with a word, this child will destroy the Host of Heaven." Castiel explains.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait. You're saying that—that Jesse's gonna nuke the angels?" I asked him and Cas nods. "We cannot allow that to happen." said Castiel. "Wait." Sam said, standing up. "We're the good guys. We—we don't just—kill children." Sam said. "A year ago, you would have done whatever it took to win this war." Castiel growls at Sam. "Things change." Sam said as Dean and I step forward, DwN puts a hand on Sam's arm and he and I put ourselves between Sam and Castiel.

"Okay. Hey, look, we are not going to kill him. All right? But we can't leave Jesse here either. We know that. So...we take him to Bobby's. He'll know what to do." Dean said. "You'll kidnap him? What is going on in this town, it's what happens when this thing is happy. You cannot imagine what it will do if it's angry. Besides, how will you hold him? With a thought, he could be halfway around the world." Castiel said. "So we—" Dean started to say but I interrupt him.

"So we tell him the truth. You say Jesse's destined to go dark side—fine. But he hasn't yet." I said to Castiel. "Exactly! So if we lay it all out for him—what he is, the apocalypse, everything—he might make the right choice." Sam said and there was a long silence.

"You didn't. And I can't take that chance." Castiel said to him and Sam glares at him as Castiel vanishes. "Damn it." Sam sighs.

We make our way to Jesse's house and kick in the front door to see Jesse standing there, staring at us. "Was there a guy here? In a trench coat?" Dean asked him and Jesse points at the floor: there is an action figure wearing Castiel's suit and trench coat and holding a silver knife.

Dean kneels to pick him up and looks up at me and Sam, then Jesse. He then sets the Castiel action figure on the mantelpiece as Jesse sits on the couch, Sam on a chair and I sit next to Jesse.

"Was he your friend?" Jesse asked, nodding to the Castiel action figure. "Him? No." Dean said. "I did that. But how did I do that?" Jesse asked. "You're a superhero." Dean said and Jesse looks up at him. "I am?" he asked. "Yeah. Yeah. I mean, who else could turn someone into a toy? You're Superman—minus the cape and the go-go boots. See, my—my partners and I, we work for a secret government agency. It's our job to find kids with special powers. In fact, we're here to take you to a hidden base in South Dakota, where you'll be trained to fight evil." Dean said and Jesse seemed to perk up at this.

"Like the X-Men?" He asked. "Exactly like the X-Men." Dean chuckles. "In fact, the, uh, guy we're taking you to—he's even in a wheelchair. You'll be a hero. You'll save lives. You'll get the girl. Sounds like fun, right?" Dean asked him until he is flung against the wall.

"They're lying to you." a female voice said and Sam and I turn and stand up to see Julia walking in, she was possessed. The demon flings us against the wall with Dean. Jesse stands up.

"Stay right there, dreamboat. Can't hurt you. Orders. You, on the other hand? Hurting you's encouraged." The demon said and she flicks her wrist and slams Dean against the opposite wall, then back. "Leave him alone!" Jesse yells and the Demon leans down to Jesse, speaking sweetly.

"Jesse. You're beautiful. You have your father's eyes." She said. "Who are you?" Jesse asked. "I'm your mother." The demon said. "No, you're not." Jesse spat. "Mm-hm. You're half human...half one of us." she said. "She means demons, Jesse!" I yelled and the demon straightens and holds up a hand clenched into a fist, making me groan in pain.

The Demon leans back down to Jesse. "Those people you call your parents—they lied to you, too. You're not theirs—not really." she said. "My mom and dad love me." Jesse growls, defensively. "Do they? Is—is that why they leave you alone all day? Because they love you so much? These people—these imposters—they told you that the tooth fairy was real and that your toys could hurt you and a hundred other things that aren't true. They love you so much, they made your whole life a lie. Look into your heart, Jesse. You've always known you weren't theirs. You've always known you were different. Everyone has lied to you. They're not FBI agents. And you're not a superhero." the demon said.

"Then what am I?" Jesse asked. "You're powerful. You can have anything you want. You can do anything you want." the demon said to him. "Don't listen to her, Jesse!" Dean yells and the demons holds up a hand and Dean groans.

"They treated you like a child. Nobody trusted you. Everybody's lied to you. Doesn't that make you angry?" The demon asked Jesse as she turns back to him and Jesse clenches his fist, the room begins to rattle. The Demon looks up, exultant, and the fire flares up and the lights flicker.

"See? It does make you angry. But I'm telling you the truth, Jesse." the demon said as things begin to shatter. "Wouldn't it be better if there were no lies? Come with me and you can wash it all clean. Start over. Imagine that—a world without lies." the demon said.

"She's right. We lied to you." Sam said and the Demon looks at Sam, eyes black. "But I'll tell you the truth." Sam said and the demon raises a fist and Sam struggles to speak. "I just want...to tell..." Sam gasps.

"Stop it." Jesse said and Sam drops to the floor, released, and he gasps in breath. "I want to hear what he has to say." Jesse said to the Demon. "You're stronger than I thought." the demon said, surprised, as Sam stands up.

"We lied to you. And I'm sorry. So here's the truth. I'm Sam Winchester. That's my brother, Dean, and my friend (y/n) (l/n). W-we hunt monsters." Sam said. "Except when you are the monster. Right, Sammy?" the demon sneered but Sam ignores her. "And that woman right there, her name is Julia. She's your mother. But the thing inside of her, the thing that you're talking to—it's a demon." Sam said.

"A demon?" Jesse asked. "He's done nothing but lie to you since the moment you met him. Don't listen to him. Punish him." the demon growled and Jesse turns to her. "Sit down and shut up." Jesse demanded and a chair scoots up behind the Demon, who is forced into it, silent. She struggles to speak.

"There's, uh, kind of a...a war between angels and demons, and...you're a part of it." Sam goes to explain. "I'm just a kid." Jesse said. "You can go with her if you want. I can't stop you. No one can. But if you do...millions of people will die." Sam said. "She said I was half demon. Is that true?" Jesse asked. "Yes. But you're half human, too. You can do the right thing. You've got choices, Jesse. But if you make the wrong ones, it'll haunt you for the rest of your life." Sam said.

"Why are you telling me this?!" Jesse asked him, upset. "Because I have to believe someone can make the right choice, even if I couldn't." Sam said and Jesse thinks about this. He clenches his fist and looks at the Demon. "Get out of her." Jesse demands and the chair flies back against the wall.

Black smoke pours out of Julia's mouth and vanishes up the chimney. Then Dean and I drop to the ground, panting. "How did you do that?" I asked him. "I just did." Jesse said, shrugging. "Kid...you're awesome." Dean said and Jesse smiled a bit before he looks over at Julia, slumped in the chair.

"Is she gonna be all right?" he asked and Dean goes to look at her. "Eventually." he said then he leans down and picks up the Castiel action figure, which fell down at some point. "Look, uh, truth is, he's kind of a buddy of mine. Is there any way you could turn him back?" Dean asked Jesse. "He tried to kill me." Jesse said. "Right. Uh. But he's a—he's a good guy. He was just confused." Dean said but Jesse says nothing.

"Okay. It's been a long night. We'll...talk about it later." Dean said and he puts the Castiel action figure back on the mantel. "What now?" Jesse asked and Dean looks at me and Sam. "Now we take you someplace safe, get you trained up. You'd be handy in a fight, kid." Dean replied.

"What if I don't want to fight?" Jesse asked and I frown. "Jesse." I said, softly, and I come forward to sit in front of him. "You're powerful. More powerful than...pretty much anything we've ever seen. That makes you—"

"A freak." Jesse said, interrupting me. "To some people, maybe. But not to us. See, we're kind of freaks ourselves." I said as I look over at a side table and made it float. Jesse turns to look and sees it rising in the air. "You have powers too?" Jesse asked me as he turns to look back at me, a bit of a smile on his face, and I nod. "I was infected with demon's blood, so it isn't as strong as your powers." I said as set the table down.

Jesse stares at me then frowns. "I can't stay here, can I?" he asked. "No. The demons know where you are, and more will be coming." Dean said. "I won't go without my mom and dad." Jesse said. "There's nothing more important than family. We get that. And if you really want to take them with you, we'll back your play. But you got to understand—it's gonna be dangerous for them, too." Sam said.

"What do you mean?" Jesse asked. "Our dad...he would take us with him wherever he went." Dean said, gesturing between him and Sam. "Where is he now?" Jesse asked. "Dead. A demon killed him." Sam said and Jesse turns to me. "What about you?" He asked me. "My dad and their dad were partners. So, yes, I was on the same boat as them." I said. "Where's your dad?" He asked me. "He died as well. A demon gave him cancer." I said and Jesse looks down, sad.

"Look, Jesse...once you're in this fight..." Dean said as he leans down to Jesse. "You're in it till the end, win or lose." Dean said. "What should I do?" Jesse asked us, looking between the three of us. "We can't tell you. It's your choice. It's not fair. I know." I said and Jesse looks down.

"Can I go see my parents? I, I need to...say goodbye." he said. "Sure." Dean said and Jesse gets up and climbs the stairs.

Minutes pass on and Sam examines the Castiel action figure and puts him back on the mantel. "He's been up there a long time." I noted and we head upstairs and go to Jesse's room, only to find it empty.

"He's gone." a voice said, behind us. We turn to see Castiel standing behind us. "Where?" Sam asked. "I don't know. Jesse put everyone in town back to normal—the ones still alive. Then he vanished." Castiel said and I noticed a note on Jesse's bed. "Hey." I said as I go to pick it up and read it, my heat breaking for this kid.

"What does it say?" Dean asked me. "That he had to leave to keep his parents safe, that he loves them, and he's sorry." I said, softly. "How do we find him?" Dean asked. "With the boy's powers, we can't. Not unless he wants to be found." Castiel said.

"You think Jesse's gonna be okay?" Dean asked me and Sam as we drive down the road. "I hope so." I said, letting out a deep sigh. "Yeah, me too." Sam said. "You know, we destroyed that kid's life by telling him the truth." Dean said. "We didn't have a choice, Dean." Sam said.

"Yeah. You know, I'm starting to get why parents lie to their kids. You want them to believe that the worst thing out there is mixing Pop Rocks and Coke—protect them from the real evil. You want them going to bed feeling safe. If that means lying to them, so be it. The more I think about it...the more I wish Dad had lied to us." Dean said. "Yeah, me too." Sam said. "Yeah..." I muttered and I look out the window, at the night sky, hoping against hope that wherever Jesse is, he is safe and sound.

@rach5ive @kitsun369 @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @ellie-andthemachine

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the-firebird69 · 1 year ago

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There are other things I have to report but I do hear the radio and they're moving on it some things I have to report are rather awful they are about more lock and what's happening to them and what is about to happen today

-the the Max and foreigners say they hate these s**** they need them all dead so they're getting to it and they want to get rid of them here they're using the alternate means and all sorts of that type of thing today they're going to have you fire each other and bja is willing to do so and he is caught doing it and it starts fights you don't think much of it but you're getting smaller there will be an evacuation you are down to around 26% of Florida's population as a whole and today they're starting up again and about 4% are getting ready and it's going to be a lot as 2% are getting up and 1% is already moving and loaded. That would bring it down to 22%, but more will be evacuating today and they say it's to Make Way for their invasion Force which is gathering momentum and more people might evacuate before then

-when you evacuated go somewhere it's a bloody mess usually a lot of people settling but it's extravagant spending as I say but they have to leave here they're being pulled out in the middle of the night and that's true but not a huge numbers but your leaders are

-on top of the evacuation they are leaving areas of industry and we are taking over some of it and we're producing products otherwise those productions would stop and they're trying to attack and we dispose of them but that's not the massive hard part in it's coming up

-a lot of you are losing your licenses to drive vehicles and all of your alter egos your licenses are being revoked at the RMV statewide your international IDs and identification and aliases are being erased if you present them you'll come up as a criminal they're going after all of them and the first one they target is identity theft of my husband if you take his identity or arrested immediately and they go after people trying to pretend to someone else especially them and it's a pseudo empire and empire mostly and we're doing it a little and the foreigners too out of necessity. There's some other items going on too but this is starting to become bigger and they're going after more and more licenses as time goes on and you are not messing with my husband as much because he needs to drive and you want to drive around waste his gas money and try and build up here if you're invasion doesn't work

-there are a few things that are nasty much more nasty than the above but the above is a harrowing experience and you're going to see what it's like to ride your bicycle around because that's all you're going to be able to do and it's nuts it is very difficult and you're not going to do it right you're all violent people dangerous you don't care about your ride and you're horrible with it what's expensive is they're picking people up and bringing them to the incinerator and not telling people where you're going

Hera

Zues

I said the above because he doesn't know about it

Hera

Olympus print now permission granted

We have the other side of the coin and she was going to say more they are taking people to the furnace and burning them but first they question them and get where their computers are and they take the stuff out and they destroy the computers and soon you won't have control over anything and you keep saying everything and you're awful

Thor Freya and yeah the evacuation is on and you're leaving the Midwest and upper Midwest too in big numbers and the phones are going to stay there for a while and Max a little bit a bunch of clones and we're supposed to fight them according to Max it's not really going to happen that well but I think so and the evacuation numbers are pretty much right on today though we might expect more than the four or five percent and it might bring it to 20% or lower as time goes on they notice people leaving they start leaving themselves and there's a lot of businesses for taking over Tropicana and we're doing that because they are terrible people and we have to rejuvenate the fields and more and there's a lot of news to broadcast but keep in mind what she said that they're taking you away and they're not telling people and you're not coming back and they're turning you into Ash

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courtingchaos · 2 years ago

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Rent the Space Inside My Mind

1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I PT 6

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: During a hazy afternoon y'all get a little lost in your heads. Eddie tells you a really funny joke.

A/N: Jesus christ this got away from me. I've had this open for two weeks (???) just chipping away and rewriting and deleting everything. I need it off my phone. I'm so sick of looking at it! I really hope you guys enjoy it! This one gets a little spicy? Nothing crazy, just some daydreaming and just All of The Pining Imaginable. I'm not sick of these two being oblivious yet, so strap in friends. (AlsoAlso, just tossing this out there this is 18+, and will just get worse as it goes on so like don't interact if your a lil baby please) Y'all wanna see the gif again?

Friday afternoons were very specifically You and Eddie hangout hours. Typically quiet, never boring, it now usually started with a blunt since someone (you) had broken someone else’s ( Eddie’s) bong. It had truly been an honest mistake and while Eddie held no grudges, he did miss watching you pull on the thick smoke, so many thoughts rushing at him in those few precious seconds. You’d cough, eyes watering and he’d wonder if you’d make the same sounds with him buried in your mouth.

Slow your roll, cowboy.

It’d been maybe an hour since you kicked his bedroom door in, a McDonald’s bag held in either hand.

“Oh my queen, is that what I think it is?”

“Literally six large fries dude.”

You toss one bag at him where he’s laying on his bed, and beeline for his dresser to drop your stuff. You glance up at his first love while you shuck your jacket off and he’s obviously watching you because he playfully says “Go on, give her a kiss. You know you want to.”

Looking over, you’re 100 percent right. Fries sticking out his mouth, he’s got that shit eating grin plastered on his face, his dimples deep and soft and you just want to grab him there with your thumb and middle finger pressed in and push him back into his pillow.

“I’m not kissing your guitar.” You say flatly.

You on the other hand…

He pouts at you while you start digging around the top drawer, looking for the party supplies.

“You know, I wouldn’t go all haphazard in my drawers like that if I were you.”

“What, afraid I’m gonna find something dirty again?” You throw that over your shoulder while you search for the pre roll you know should be in there.

“Ha ha ha”, Eddie mock laughs, getting up from the bed to open a different drawer in the dresser. “I moved it, made more sense over here.” He pulls out a small wooden box and closes the drawer quick. You quirk an eyebrow at him and dart your eyes between him and the drawer his hand is still on. He just smiles easy and shakes the wooden box at you.

“Oh look at you, a whole box now? What, loose weed in your socks not your thing anymore?” You tease him and pluck it out of his hands to dig through it.

“Aha!”, the blunt you had so lovingly rolled on Wednesday in his van, parked outside of your own trailer before you went in for the night. Made like a pinkie promise for Friday afternoon, he’d taken it with a bow of his head; a knight receiving the fair lady’s favor.

“I’ll guard it with my life.” He meant it too.

Eddie had watched you, completely enraptured, run the tip of your pink tongue along a seam of the blunt, the smallest glint of metal peaking out of your mouth. He had tried being as sly as he could be, but he was sure he’d been actively panting by the time you handed it to him. This little fucking thing clutched in his hand had seen more action from you than he ever would. For that, it stayed in his possession.

“You better, that’s the last of that bag.” You’d held the empty ziplock up when you got out of the van, shrugging at him. Eddie promised to pick up only the best from Rick before Friday, so you dug forty bucks out of your wallet for him.

He’d long ago stopped arguing with you about paying since you were the one with an actual job. The bookstore downtown took up three of your afternoons normally, which is why Friday Fundays were created. If Hellfire wasn’t meeting and he didn’t have band practice, he’d sometimes bum around bothering you and your few coworkers.

They had all taken a liking to Eddie, firstly because he was pretty well read, and could quote Tolkien at them fast as lighting. Most of the older women you worked with were just as easily charmed by his big dimpled smile and his abundance of ‘ma’am’s’.

Secondly, he was typically quiet but always respectful so because of this, every single one of them had asked you on multiple occasions if you two had started dating yet. Always prefaced with a big sigh, you’d tell them ‘Why no, of course not, he is actually just my friend.’ It would always end with them tittering and smiling, talking about how boys were never friends with girls like that when they were younger.

“Georgia, it’s 1983, times do change.” You’d reminded your coworker one evening while you both watched Eddie rifling through books on a bottom shelf. Georgia had leveled a look at you and said, “I think after 62 years, I’d see when a boy likes a girl.” You’d wanted to remind Georgia of her coke bottle glasses but kept that one to yourself.

Eddie didn’t like you, not like that. You were positive. The two of you had come together as friends, nothing more. It wasn’t his fault you’d turned 16 and suddenly became aware of his dimples when he smiled at you, or how big his hands were when he’d grab at you when the two of you roughhoused. You’d kept this attraction on complete lockdown for two years and you weren’t about to let Georgia from the bookstore pry it out of you.

Firstly, and Most Importantly, he was your pit buddy. Very early on in the friendship, still both 15 and fresh faced and trying desperately to get into local shows, you’d realized you were both pretty hardy individuals. After saving Eddie from a beating by a Senior boy and then the next week starting a fight over one of the first uses of ‘Freak’ towards him, it’d given both of you an idea of what you could handle.

And it was glorious.

You’d only ever had girlfriends before meeting Eddie and while you did genuinely like doing the girly things, no one ever wanted to do the tomboy things with you. Now though you suddenly had someone who wasn’t afraid of getting into it with you, especially in the middle of a crowd of moving bodies. The first show had been some local band playing just outside of Hawkins, they were metal-ish and loud and fast and it was everything Eddie had promised it’d be. The two of you had spent the hour after the show waiting for your mom and wrestling in the grass next to the venue, taking turns throwing each other on the ground. That night had been the most fun you’d had in a long time and by the time you both climbed into the back of your mom’s station wagon you were breathless and covered in grass and laughing.

Your mom dropped Eddie off with Wayne, apologizing for the dirt child she was leaving on his doorstep.

“I have no idea what happened in an hour.” She’d kind of laughed, and Wayne waved her off telling her Eddie had come home looking worse.

“Tell Ms. Helen thank you.” Wayne said, herding him inside while Eddie yelled out goodbyes and thank you’s. On the short ride to your trailer on the backend of the park, your mom had tried to grill you for information about Eddie. You were honest with her, that the grass and dirt was from play fighting and the few cuts on your knees were from going nuts during the concert. Obviously she was concerned, but she admitted to you before turning the car off,

“I’m just happy you’re making friends hun, that’s all I want.”

Holed up in Eddie’s room, the window cracked just barely to help circulate air and keep as much warm in, you take your normal position on the floor, leaned up against the bed. His head is hanging off the edge while he tries to blow smoke rings.

He waves the blunt in front your face and you wave him off while you dig through your book bag to find your D&D notes. Diamond Head is on low in the background and you hum along while you look for the scribbles you’d jotted down during lunch earlier.

“What tragic character have you created now?” His voice is deep from the smoke and the angle he has his head tilted at. You don’t even chance a glance sideways, just clench your jaw and flex your toes in your shoes.

“No one new, I was thinking of some like, extra story for my cleric.”

“Oh Christ, not the corn god again.”

“Yes the corn god, all praise Helio.” You say it with no emotion but hold your hands up in praise above you. Eddie rolls his eyes and copies you, muttering ‘Praise Helio’ under his breath.

The two of you fall into quiet conversation, passing the blunt back and forth until it’s hard to pinch, stubbed out in the ashtray next to your leg.

Honestly you thought Eddie had fallen asleep with how quiet he was so you’d shifted away from the bed to lay next to it on the floor. Engrossed in notes from one of Eddie’s DM binders (and a good steady high), you don’t notice him slowly moving to keep you in his line of sight. He had been close to sleep but you shifting had stirred up your perfume from your hair and pulled him from his daze. Something sweet and deep that hung around his room long after you’d left.

He had only recently really admitted to himself just how head over heels he was for you so this attention he was leveling at you was still surprising to him. In fact, he’d picked up a new little habit: small things of yours that just happened to find their way into his pocket. Stuff you’d never really miss but little things that made him think of you. Hair clips that he actually used sometimes. A few chapsticks and one of your eyeliner pencils, a guitar pick you’d use when messing with his acoustic and a minifig that he knew you were looking for but it wasn’t important to this campaign so it didn’t matter right now. If a t-shirt of yours found its way in there it was none of his business.

Under the assorted stolen tchotchkes was a single Polaroid he kept tucked deep in the drawer under the little cigar box he’d handed over to you earlier.

That lived face down in the drawer lest you almost accidentally ever see it again. He’s not a pervert (Don’t lie to yourself Munson) but this was an accidental photo taken at an opportune time. Halloween the year before and you had shown up to his trailer in an Elvira getup that had Eddie clutching the counter to stay upright. Complete with black wig and tits out to the universe he was sure he’d never seen so much of you on display. Standing in the doorway you’d had to call his name a few times before he invited you in, Eddie stuck in a staring contest with your chest. You’d done a little half turn for him once inside where he all but vomited compliments at you over your painfully accurate costume. If he followed you around like a dog all night, it was only to make sure he was somehow marking you as untouchable to everyone else.

This was just one of the rich kids parties so Eddie was there to sell and you had tagged along for an excuse to dress up. Normally Eddie would plant himself in his van for an hour or two and then head home but you seemed to be enjoying the party, even though you barely left his side. He never actually partied with this crowd of rich assholes but the combination of you, beer, and everyone being moderately decent to him all night lent to him letting his guard down. By the time midnight had rolled around the two of you were a drunk giggling mess, looking everywhere for the wig you had eventually torn off in the heat of the house.

The morning had snuck up on you though, both of you jolted awake by an errant ray of light seeping through the blinds in the strange living room. You found your shoes by the front door and you two snuck out to Eddie’s van and headed home.

It wasn’t until he was sat outside his own trailer, smoking before heading in, that he found the Polaroid in the breast pocket of his jacket. Eddie had found a camera at some point, he can vaguely remember that. And he had taken this crooked photo of you, legs stretched out and propped up in front of you with the slit of your dress hiked up around your hip. Your head thrown back against the couch while a cigarette hung out of the corner of your mouth. The long line of your neck mapping a trail down to the deep cut neckline and just cleavage for days. Eddie stares and stares for so long before he notices in the bottom corner of the photo, your hand resting on his thigh, painted black nails digging into the dark denim.

It takes his forgotten cigarette burning down to the filter and burning his finger to snap him out of his lust daze.

That photo had lived beside his bed for a good while, serving as a bookmark in many things. (Which is how you’d almost found it one afternoon in his copy of Salem’s Lot.)

He’d stare at it before bed, imagining whatever scenario he could that involved you crawling over that couch and devouring him. Your lips painted dark red, leaving marks all over his neck and you hair, curled and soft from being pinned up all night dragging over his shoulder. He’d never been with a girl that had really taken her time with him but he imagined you would. He knew how soft your hands were, could imagine what they’d feel like dragging down his ribs over his stomach, tugging at his belt. You’d push his shirt up while pulling his jeans down and look up at him with that glint in your eye, the one you’d get before you really threw yourself fully into something.

Sometimes this would be the softest imagined scenario all quiet moans and gentle kisses, you handling him so carefully. Featherlight touches down his thighs, your hands soft around him while you whispered little praises up at him from between his knees. Those were nights where he was feeling especially lovesick (like when you were out on a fabled date). Getting deep into his feelings in the dark, sometimes not even actually jerking off, just thinking of you while he lay in his bed trying to sleep.

The other times though, those times he’d grab you up in front of everyone at that party and find a dark corner of that rich kids kitchen. He’d walk you backwards, up against a wall and cage you in with his body, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other ghosting down your side to grab at your hip. Without shoes on your only a few inches shorter than him, but you’d still have to look up at him from under your lashes. Your hands would wrap up the sides of his face and wind in his hair and you’d pull him down to you, lips soft and warm. He’d hook a finger in the neckline of your dress to try and get your tits out and he just knew they’d fit so perfect in his hands. You’d mewl at him and make all the little noises he could imagine you might make when he runs his fingers over the lace of your bra. He’d smirk at you while you pulled at his neck, trying to get him closer, pulling your body flush up against his. Slot your leg between his and grind up on him to feel the hard length of him against your thigh.

It didn’t take much for him to picture you bent over a bathroom vanity, hands braced on the sink in front of you and crying for him. His hand fisted in the velvet of your dress and pushing it up to your waist so he could watch himself bury his cock in you while you whined and moaned for him to not stop, never stop, keep going your gonna make me cum-

The shuffling of paper brings him back down into his room. Remembers that you are also in his room and he has to keep his fucking imagination in check because you can clearly see the raging hard on he has from your place on the floor. Only if you looked over that is, just a turn of your head and you could see him straining against his jeans-

He mentally slaps himself back in place and takes a deep breath to try to focus on something literally anything that isn’t you and your tits and your thighs and your breathing…

From your position on the floor you can see Eddie lying face up on his bed, eyes closed, fingers tapping on his chest along with the drum beat. The notes you’ve been looking at are held at such an angle that you’re actually just peering at him like a little creep over the top. Watching his fingers tap, watching his chest rise and fall, watching his face scrunch up when he hears the bass really kick in. It’s lulling you into a stasis of sorts; you’ve been good and toasty for a bit now, the two of you no longer essentially hotboxing his room. The floor was supposed to be grounding you so you’d stop imagining things like climbing up on the bed with him. Would he even open his eyes or would he just smile?

Assume you were trying to get comfortable.

You could surprise him. Tangle your hand up in his hair and pull his head back to hold him in place while you attacked his neck, leaving little red marks up and down the column of his throat. Maybe he’d laugh, all breath and a little gasping, the vibrations making you smile against him. You could move your way up to his mouth and he’d taste just like you’d imagined a hundred times before. Tobacco and weed and a little salty from the fries he’d been eating earlier.

This is not the first, nor will it be the last time, that you sit and wonder what secrets that mouth beholds.

You are slowly spinning out on the floor of his room, your mind going…well, more like an inch a minute rather than a mile. Eddie’s notes long forgotten next to you in the carpet, you’re just about to drift off into your daydream about his fingers tap tap tapping down your sternum when he clears his throat and turns his head to look at you, says something you don’t catch.

“What?”

“I said ‘can I ask you something?’” He repeats himself and rolls over to lean on an elbow. His eyes are fixed on you, a notch between his brows making him look worried.

“What’s up?”

“Can I rain check next Friday?” He asks you almost hesitantly. It takes a few seconds for you to catch up before you frown a little yourself.

“And postpone the Friday night french fry extravaganza? What, you got a hot date or something?” You think you’re being slick but a blush starts to creep up his neck.

“No way! Did Gwen change her mind?!” You sit up from the floor to crawl over to the edge of the bed where you prop your chin to grin up at him. Your daydream is left with the notes while you rush into his space, face close to his own. Weed is still hugging your faculties pretty warmly so you don’t get a chance to stop your eyes drifting down his face to his lips.

He absolutely does not miss that look, but he’s also dipped pretty deep in this high so he lets it go because this is new. He’s never seen you look at him like that before; bites his bottom lip because he’s not entirely sure what’s happening in this moment.

No harm in letting you stare.

No harm in him watching you worry at your own lip.

Please let me bite that for you.

Your eyes finally snap back up to his with a questioning look in them.

Yes yes yes do it first please I’m too much of a coward.

Time is molasses the way the guitar in the background is molasses and you’re just staring at each other when you huff lightly.

“So…Gwen?”

Yeah, Gwen. Who’s Gwen?

“Uh yeah kind of? Nothing like crazy or whatever.” He breaks eye contact with you to stare at his blanket and pick at it. He’s not even sure why he’s still set on hanging out with her honestly, not with this huge fuckin’ crush he’s got burning for you. That first time he’d asked Gwen it had been with some actual feeling behind it. It’d only taken her a week to come back after turning him down though, a quiet question on her lips. Cornering him in the parking lot after school she’d made it a point to get him alone by his van where they were out of eyesight of everyone else. That should have been his first clue that this wouldn’t be a real date, but he’d been too caught off guard by the god damn cheer outfit.

“Does that offer still stand?” She’s sweet and a little naive maybe and he’s kind of weak for that so of course it does. Anything to get you off of his mind.

“For what?”

“Going out for a bite.”

“I mean sure, if you’re free.”

“Of course silly. Next Friday though.” She giggles and tucks a note with her number into his vest pocket.

He tells you all this, not looking up from his blanket the whole time. He admits that he knows she probably isn’t really interested in going out with him but she seems fun and nice and like who cares right?

“Yeah, she gets to test out what kind of freak I am and I probably get laid so…” he trails off. You’re still all up in his space so you can see his eyes darting around his blanket, looking for a distraction. This isn’t the first of these kinds of conversations between the two of you and you’ve seen that hurt in his eyes before. It’s not like Eddie is laying waste to all the girls of Hawkins High. He’s got maybe a solid handful of conquest under his belt, but they’ve all mostly treated him like a big secret. Something they got to do on a weekend or three and then moved on to something better. Something brighter. Something more well rounded and presentable.

“It’s not like she’s gonna take me home to meet mom.” His laugh is small and hollow when he rolls back over to stare at his ceiling. You pull yourself away from the edge of the bed, the cozy little spell broken.

“Listen man, you don’t have to go out with her. Just cancel it. What’s the worst that’ll happen? She doesn’t talk to you anymore?” You’re trying to break the sad tension with a joke and a gentle punch to his shoulder. He doesn’t budge, just sighs real big and continues to stare up at nothing.

You’re not super worried about this. Either he doesn’t hang out with her and you two get to have your normal Friday, or he does and you wait it out like you have with the others.

See, Gwen is an easy obstacle. She’s one of the nice cheerleaders, and she’s a year below you guys but she has no idea what she’s dipping her toe into. Eddie is a special brand of person and with his ability to talk an ear off, he’s sure to scare her off quickly. They’ll go out on their date and probably fool around a few times and then she’s going to comment on Hellfire. Or his band. Or his music. And then Eddie is going to get bored. He’ll remember what it’s like to talk about his interest unhindered with his little group of misfits and he’ll come back, acting like nothing ever happened.

So you have nothing to worry about.

Gwen will be easy.

💕Tags List💕

@edsforehead, @fracturedarkness, @munsonsguitarpick

Thank you again you guys!

#Stranger Things #Stranger Things fic #My work #fic #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x reader #x reader #Eddie Munson smut #but only like a little #It'll get there I promise #This one really got away from me #4k words????#these were supposed to be drabbles and shorts wtf #lmao do you guys like my Dimension 20 reference?#blink and you'll miss it #Rentfic

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tmntxthings · 3 years ago

Note

Hiya!

I saw your little post on 2012 Donnie. I love that one! The fluff was wonderful and sweet!

I was wondering if we could get a continuation of it?

Purple Savior Pt. 2

author’s note: :D I finished this pretty late so pls excuse the typos I’ll fix ‘em laters, hope you all enjoy part two c: ~~~~

warnings: fluff, like one curse word

> part one <

—————————————————————————

previously. . .

By the time the two of you had finished talking the sun was coming up and that made him gasp. “Ohhh no, I’ve got to go,” he paused looking at you expectantly, and it took you only a second to realize what he was asking for, “Y/n!” you said and he repeated your name, nodding. “See ya next time!” He said as he jumped off your roof, heading to who knows where, being chased by the rising sun. You smiled sleepily. You couldn’t believe you just stayed up the whole night talking to a purple teenage mutant ninja turtle, but you knew you were gonna do the same thing tomorrow.

“So I was thinking,” you said as you rocked back on your heels before you started pacing. Another week had passed and you and Donnie had met up every night after his patrols on your rooftop. Donnie looked up from his t-phone, texting back his brothers. “Yes?” Donnie asked when you didn’t continue after a few moments. “Well uh, how was your day?” You held back a sigh as you went back to his side, sitting crossed legged on the rooftop of your apartment. That hadn’t been what you wanted to talk about. But it seemed you lacked the confidence or courage which was kind of strange because you definitely considered yourself extroverted.

He looked at you with an amused smile, “I told you that already,” and he shook his head as he still answered, “I was asleep for most of the day, worked on a couple of builds, something reallyyyy cool-“ you smacked your forehead and Donnie jumped at the sound, “that’s right! The turtle sub! I’m sorry I swear I was listening-“

Donnie cut you off, “Y/n, are you okay??” He asked as you peeled your hand away from your face. A hand print mark becoming visible from where you smacked yourself. “Hmm? Oh yeah just overthinking,” you readily admitted. “Overthinking what? That’s kind of my thing,” Donnie chuckled to himself. “Well it’s definitely my thing, I don’t know I was thinking about doing something other than just hanging out on a rooftop…” you sighed. “But I don’t know exactly where we could go or what we could do,” you mumbled. Donnie was blinking, assessing what you said and then reassessing.

Donatello was immediately on board, unbeknownst to you, as he thought up about ten plans on the spot. “We could play some video games!” Donnie offered and you nodded, “yeah I’m just worried my parents will storm my room if we get too loud.” Donnie made a gesture at himself, “I’m a ninja remember? Stealth is my middle name!” He spoke confidently and you looked at the purple clad turtle who had become a fast friend. “Alright purple ninja, as long as you promise not to get caught!” You snickered and stood up. Leading the way to your window, and you went in first, sweeping your hand back behind you as you said, “Welcome to my humble abode~”

Donnie duck his head to pass through the window. He was a hundred percent sure this was the first time he’d ever been in a human’s room before. Christmas lights were strung up everywhere, along with shelves filled with books. He almost forgot what he came in here for as he approached them. “Ah- uh- wait!” You said stepping in front of him, “video games remember!” You said shaking a controller in front of his face. You seemed to be trying to distract him and your nervous smile only affirmed his thoughts. But he didn’t push as he grabbed the controller just giving the books another glance before he let you steer him to your tv.

“So what’re we playing?” Donnie asked quietly, not forgetting about the threat of being caught by your parents. “Well I’ve got a bunch of mario stuff, mario kart, party, smash bros, world,” you ran off the list then your turned to another pile of games, “then over here I’ve got call of duty, but i mainly just run zombies, minecraft, it’s gonna be a no for all the guitar heroes and just dances..” you said contemplating your options as you gave Donnie a glance wondering if he had any preferences. “How about zombies?” He asked and you smiled, nodding in agreement as you started it up.

“Now I know you're a badass and all but you can not, and I mean not scream when you get eaten by the zombies.” You spoke with a sarcastic, teasing tone and Donnie rolled his eyes. “Yeah I’ll just take note of the badass part,” he smiled as the loading screen came on with the eerie music in the background. “I mean it Donnie no girly surprise screams!” He shook his head as the two of you started to play.

It was round 15, the two of you were a great team, taking down zombies and hellhounds alike. “What’s your high score?” Donnie asked, he’d only played this game a couple of times so he had focused up and had been silent until he felt comfortable and confident that he wouldn’t be the first to die. “Around 20,” you admitted sheepishly but your eyes never left the screen. You hardly blinked, Donnie noticed. When that round came Donnie noticed the zombies were getting tougher and faster. His character was running around the map like crazy, a trail of zombies chasing after him. “SHIT!” You hollered in panic as you got hit and then swarmed immediately going down. You dropped your controller in dismay, “always round 20!” you groaned and watched as Donnie played on.

He lasted two more rounds without you before he too fell to the swarm of the undead. “Wow you’re pretty good!” You said smiling and Donnie smiled back, “yeah and who ended up screaming??” He teased as you sighed, “I think that was an octave lower than a scream,” you corrected. “Y/n??” A voice sounded from behind your door and Donnie was up and moving, wide eyed, not wanting to get you in trouble. “Uh yeah??” You called out, freaking-the-hell-out mentally as you watched Donnie shoot for the door as it opened and he pressed himself to the wall as the door covered him. “What’re you doing??” Your mom said as she held onto the doorknob. “Just playing games!” You said quickly picking up a controller, and moving in front of the other trying to be nonchalant and hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“Who were you talking to?” She asked eyes narrowing as she looked around the room. “Just myself, you know like a pep talk to not lose, never works!” You spoke quickly, waving the controller around in your hand. “Alright well you need to start getting ready for bed, you’ve got school tomorrow!” Your mom said as she started closing the door, “Okay! Will do!” You nodded and held your breath as Donnie came back into view. After a couple of quiet moments after the door closed you and Donnie both let out a sigh of relief. “What’d I tell ya, ninja stealth!” He said triumphantly.

“Thank god, I almost peed my pants thinking she’d swing the door open just a little wider and crush you back there!” You wiped your figurative sweat from your brow dramatically. Donnie chuckled, and he watched as you stood, rocking back on your heels. “Guess we should call it a night,” you said, cheeks staining embarrassed that your mom had unknowingly called you out in front of your friend. “I wish I could go to school,” Donnie sighed wistfully. “I promise Donnie you’re not missing much! Plus you definitely don’t need it your smarter than the whole place combined!” You said playfully swatting at his arm. He gave you a warm smile, “thanks Y/n, if you ever need help with math shoot me a text,” he said as he brought out a t-phone.

Your eyes widened and you looked up from the phone to his face, beaming, “Really?!” you said excitedly. “Y/N!” Your mom hollered from down the hall, “SORRY!” You hollered back and then turned your volume down, “I get a t-phone?!” you whispered happily. “Yeah, it’s got a few games and music too!” Donnie said proudly as you took the phone. Looking at it with wonder and you immediately shot Donnie a text. His own t-phone buzzed and he checked the message, ‘THANK YOU!!!! THIS IS SO COOL!!!! XD’ - Y/n

Donnie was smiling widely as he gave you a thumbs up in real life. “I’ll see ya tomorrow,” he whispered, fighting the urge to stay and talk about all the other cool features that he was planning for the t-phone, he’d definitely have to give you the upgrade first. You waved and whispered back, “okay get back home safe, oh message me when you get there,” you said pointing towards the phone and Donnie nodded as he exited through your window.

Ten minutes later after you had closed the window and your curtains. All brushed and dressed for bed you were getting comfy as you heard a familiar buzz. ‘made it home! (: ‘ -Donnie

‘phew, I was getting worried!’ -y/n

‘pshhh no need, ninja remember?’ -donnie

‘yeah yeah I feel like you’ve said that multiple times today already :p’ -y/n

‘well it’s true :p’ -donnie

‘copycat :0’ -y/n

‘meeee?! :0’ -donnie

You burst into laugher and quickly covered your mouth to try and keep quiet. Then another buzz sounded off.

‘goodnight y/n (＾ｰ^)ノ’ -donnie

‘woah cool one do I have that??’ -y/n

‘nah only for cool ppl ;p (yes it’s under a diff keyboard I’ll show u tmrw)’ -donnie

‘pfttt okay gnight my purple nerd~~’ -y/n

Donnie couldn’t help the heat that flushed his cheeks as he reread your last message. Specifically one word, my. It made him happy. Really really happy, and he couldn’t wait til tomorrow, to play games again, to show you more t-phone features. Being with you had become one of his favorite activities and his missing presence was starting to be noticed by his brothers. “Who ya texting?” Mikey pipped up from Donnie’s side as he peered over his brother’s shoulder at the phone. “hmm- uh- no one!” Donnie squeaked with surprise as his phone jumped out of his hands and he quickly caught it before Mikey could lunge for it.

“Hmmmm sure dude, surrre” Mikey said as he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Donnie quickly picked up the phone, getting up from the kitchen table in favor of escaping to his room. “I’ll get to the bottom of this Donnie! Just you wait!!” Mikey called after him as the purple turtle shook his head. That was just great, with Mikey on his trail he’d soon have Raph and Leo pestering for answers too. But he didn’t really linger on it as much as he should’ve, no his thoughts wandered back to your message. As he smiled to himself, your purple nerd~

#2012 donnie #2012 donatello #2k12 donnie #donatello x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt fandom #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #turtle bros #mikey #donnatello #raph #leonardo #tmnt oneshot #oneshot #donnie #tmnt fluff #fluff #donnie x y/n

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folkloreguk · 4 years ago

Text

French Class [2]

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this part! I’m excited to put out more parts soon!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, oral (f receiving), car sex, dirty talk, college!au, nerd!reader, fuckboy!bias

words: 4.4 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez

“And then he asked me if I would wear his tie around my neck while he- Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you there?” Your roommate, Chohee, waved her hand in front of your face from across the table. You had occupied the seats in the back of the Chinese restaurant, in a niche where you were mostly hidden from other customers. Turns out, for all the spicy stories she had in store – as always – that had been a great idea.

“I swear your thoughts have been all over the place lately. Are you sure you have nothing to talk about?” She twirled a strand of her dyed pink hair around her fingers while she mustered you suspiciously.

“I’m sorry, I zoned out. It’s nothing, I’m just tired. I’ve been studying day and night. Looks like you’re the only one with the stories today. Just start again from the part where he got the whipped cream from the fridge,” you said.

“We went over that part five minutes ago! Have you paid any attention?” Chohee shook her head with a grin. Then she began her bedroom-adventure story from the beginning, because she knew as well as you, she loved talking about it.

Truth was, you had one hell of a story to tell. And no, you had not been paying attention. Not because you were tired. Not because you had studying on your mind. But because one hundred percent of your focus was currently directed at the boy only a few tables from yours. You only saw the back of his head, but there was no doubt about his identity. The mop of hair was unmistakable. Plus, he was in his famous black leather jacket. There was no mistaking this piece of clothing. It was decorated with white splatters of acrylic paint and had his name written messily across the top of his back. You could just about make out the tips of the letters as he leaned back comfortably, legs spread on his chair, chatting to his friend.

Chohee had no idea about the grip the person behind her had on you. She was your closest friend, and yet you hadn’t broken the news to her: You were hooking up (and not just once) with the so-called “hottest guy on campus”. AT least those had been her words when she had first told you about him. Lately you had to admit, you were starting to agree. It wasn’t like you wanted to keep secrets from her. In fact, on many occasions you had almost crumbled and told her the full story. Had she not been such a chatterbox, and did she not love gossiping as much as she did, you swore she would already know about your little arrangement with him.

She was aware of this much: You and him were casual friends. Study buddies, one would say. You had subtly passed over the little details of your friendship. How grocery store visits sometimes turned into visits to his dorm because of a simple text of his, or how you had sneaked out on more than one occasion in the middle of the night because he had told you his dormmates weren’t home. It wasn’t weird to Chohee that you brushed over the particularities of your “one-night-stands” when you returned in the mornings. You had never been as big on sharing as she was.

Maybe you wanted to keep things to yourself out of fear what people would say, too. You couldn’t care less whether people knew you were sleeping around. But everyone knew him, or so it seemed. Girls wanted him. Boys wanted to be him. All you desired was his friendship and some fun. You had no interest in being known on campus or having people you’ve never met giving you the side-eye over having sex with an oh-so-special boy. One day you would tell Chohee all about it. You weren’t technically lying. Just not sharing the entire story.

“Remember how I said H/N was the hottest guy ever?” Chohee suddenly said. The sound of his name made your head snap back to reality.

“Oh, now you’re listening, I see. All it takes is for me to mention your new bestie,” she teased. “You shouldn’t get too attached to him. I have a feeling that girls are interchangeable to him, either way. Anyway, I’ve decided I find his friend Korain much more attractive, since I’ve been hooking up with him.”

Would it be weird to correct her? To promise her, when you had more time and weren’t so distracted, you would lay the truth on her? He isn’t like that at all, you wanted to say. Yes, he liked female attention. But that didn’t make him a bad guy. Would it sound crazed to explain how he knew how you took your coffee, and how he sent you pictures of your favorite animals before your exams to take some of the nerves away? Or how he reported that it took him exactly 1,012 steps to get to your dorm from his place? Multiple times you had tried to count the distance yourself, but you never seemed to have enough focus to make it. Something always caught you off guard. You had doubted his credibility, but he swore he wasn’t bluffing.

Speaking of his friend Korain – who was at this very Chinese restaurant with H/N – he was suddenly making eye contact with you. Before you could slide lower into your seat like a frightened animal, he had grinned at you. Oh no. Prompted by his friend’s smile in your direction, H/N now turned his head. You were thankful Chohee was still deep in her explanation on why she had changed her opinions on the two very boys only a few tables away. If only she knew.

H/N’s eyes caught yours and a smirk plastered on his face. You assumed the tiny smile you sent him would do, but no. The two young men had collected their things and were getting ready to leave. The exit was the opposite direction, and yet H/N took the long way there. His stride was that of a model as he approached your table.

“Y/N,” he said, voice sweet like sugar candy and his smile charming like famous artwork. “You wanna hang at the library later?”

Chohee was now eyeing him as if she was your bodyguard and he was an obsessed fan who had crossed into your personal space. All you could think of was how you wanted him as your dessert. Now. But you had an exam coming up in a few days. So, his invitation fit just right.

“I’ll be there.” You smiled politely. He gave you a raised eyebrow, but then nodded, said goodbye, spun around and followed his friend out of the restaurant. When you looked at Chohee, she was already giving you eyes that asked a billion questions at once. Fantastic. Now you’d have to explain that “hang at the library” was not some sort of codeword for sex, but you had – against all odds – convinced the local prince of fuckboys that studying wasn’t such an atrocious idea after all. But fate saved you before you could begin your clarification.

“Oh no! Where has the time gone? I have to get to my afternoon lecture!” Chohee exclaimed, quickly gathering her purse and jacket. “My professor will curse me if I’m late again!”

And with that, she scrambled up from the table. “Don’t think you’re getting off easy just because I have to go! I demand a good story when I get home!”

You knew she was just being dramatic, and should you decide to keep everything to yourself for another month, she wouldn’t be mad. And yet, the urge to tell her crept up on you as you watched her hurry out of the door while waving one last time. Your morning classes had been the only appointment in your calendar for the day. So, with nothing else to do, you fished for your phone to message him for a time to meet at the library.

“What were you being so weird for earlier?” he asked as he plopped down on the wooden chair across from you. His books slammed on the table, and you flinched a little. Boys.

“Thanks for reminding me why I chose to sit in the group project area today. Could you be any louder in a library?” you said. “And thank god we’re the only ones here.”

“Thanks for reminding me that you’re still great at avoiding questions,” he returned.

“I just didn’t want my friend to ask questions.”

“So you talked to me like a five year old would respond to their kindergarten teacher? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me? The guy with the reputation?”

“No, I’m not. Wait? What? And what kind of reputation would that be, if I may ask? The you-only-sleep-with-a-girl-once-reputation?”

“You should know the nastiest rumors mostly prove to be false. I was thinking of something more delightful. Like a gives-the-best-head-on-campus-kind of reputation.”

You snorted. “And who is going to do the research to prove that?”

“Why don’t you look around and report back to me?” he smirked.

“No thanks. I’m already hooking up with a guy who’s more than a handful.”

He faked taking offence in your words with a theatrical gasp. “Is that so? The girl I’m hooking up with isn’t much better. Always asks to hang at the library like she doesn’t beg me to fuck her the second we get out of there.”

“Let me remind you that you were the one who suggested this place today,” you said. “I was ready to jump into your bed and you had to stall time like this.”

“Are you for real? What are we still doing here, then?” he asked, and you tilted your head with a suggestive grin that mirrored his.

15 minutes later:

“Who the fuck stores five umbrellas in their car?” You kicked another one off the backseat you were lying on. Your bra was exposed beneath your shirt which he had pushed up on your chest and was now attacking the exposed skin with hungry kisses.

“That’s what you get for not getting it on in the library,” he muttered against your skin without looking up.

“We’d be asking to get suspended from there by doing that,” you said. “And I cherish my library very much.”

He only made a snickering noise and shook his head before he went to take off his shirt – and promptly hit his head on the car roof. “Ow! This sucks. I can barely move.”

“That’s what you get for not waiting until we’re at your place,” you teased him with his own words. But judging by the prominent bulge in his pants, you supposed you didn’t want him driving anywhere. Not with naughty things on his mind, and with you next to him to only make him hornier. Your eyes fell on the dark purple spots on his abdomen, and you grinned.

“Wow. Someone must have worked hard to make that stomach even prettier,” you said.

“Yeah, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” He bent down to your ear and his husky tone sent cold shivers up your spine. Of course, you knew. You were the one who bit and sucked the hickeys into his skin two days ago, after all. His hands palming your boobs through your bra drew out a desperate sigh from you.

“Let’s play a game. What do you say?” he asked.

“What kind of game would that be?” Your interest was roused. He was lost in thought for a moment, hands slowly running up and down your exposed legs. Luckily, you had opted for a skirt today. All he’d had to do was to push it up to your belly and get rid of your underwear after your short but very steamy make-out session on the backseat. The cool air on your exposed core was only magnifying your impatience.

“Whoever comes first, loses.” You couldn’t suppress a chuckle at his idea, and he eyed you with indignation. “You don’t like it?”

“Everyone knows women take longer to orgasm than men do,” you said. “Are you trying to dig your own grave or what?”

“That’s why I’ll have a head start,” he announced. His hands circled the skin close to your core, creeping up your thighs slowly.

“And what’s the prize for winning?”

“The loser owes the winner a favor.”

“Too vague. I don’t trust you with that.”

“I don’t trust you, she says as she waits for me to fuck her in my car,” he mocked.

“I don’t trust your crazy ideas,” you clarified. “What about this? The winner pays for the loser’s next meal when we eat together.”

“Deal.” He slid his fingers over your pussy, and you crumbled into a whining mess within seconds. No matter how much your head denied it, he really was the best. He caught your clit between his digits and your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a moment.

“Shit, you only turn me on more if you’re going to moan like that.” He lowered his head and spit on your center, and the laughter that had been bubbling in your throat died in an instant. His fingers rubbed your nub fast and spread his saliva – without doubt his attempt at tipping you closer to the edge before he had even begun to fuck you.

“Too bad you find me so hot,” you said, and let out a purposely dramatic whimper, followed by his name in your best fake-porn-voice. His smile had something wholesome, as if he was admiring his friend making silly jokes, but also a glint of playfulness. You knew had been a mask when he bit his lip and exhaled slowly. With ease, he slid his middle finger into you. As he curled it against your sweet spot, he bent down to suck on your clit and your back arched at the sudden pleasure.

“Too bad you’re going to lose,” he said, and then continued his antics. Had he continued this way for another few minutes, his words wouldn’t have been so far from the truth. But you had other plans.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” you asked. “That’s enough of your head start.”

“I only just tasted you. Why would it be called a head start, if you’re going to stop me two minutes into giving you head?” he asked and you would’ve slapped his shoulder, had he been close enough. Instead, you closed your eyes for a few seconds. He was the competitive one here, and you didn’t mind enjoying yourself for now. Sighing in temporary defeat, your head fell back onto the seat. The sun was shining its last rays through the car window. They caught in his curled eyelashes and on his skin, coloring him golden.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, arm snaking around your thigh. He held on to you, but it wasn’t as if you could have moved away from him. Your head was right by the car door. His lips around your clit paired with his finger steadily rubbing against your sweet spot inside of you made you feel like floating. His free hand touched your leg gently, caressing your skin as if he wasn’t also simultaneously pushing you to the urge to yell out his name in pleasure. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, as if you needed to do so to keep him in place. But something in the back of your mind still had a desire for winning. Trying to collect the last bits of your dwindling sanity, you hatched a plan. Good on you – you knew just what rode him into madness.

“I- I need you to fuck me, please,” you begged, making sure to add an extra layer of tragedy to your voice. “Please, I want it so bad.”

He looked up at you, a dark glint in his eyes. Of course, he did. All was going according to plan. It wasn’t like you had known him all your life, but you were perfectly aware of one thing. He could never resist your dirty talking and begging.

“Please?” you bat your eyelashes ever so longingly at him.

“Is that so?” He was now straightening up. His black pupils were dilated, and he was looking at you with the expectation of a loyal puppy waiting for his treat. You grabbed the front hem of his pants and pulled him towards you. In a moment, you had unzipped the material for him.

“I want you to fuck me like you did the first time we met. At the party,” you said. “Do you ever think about it, too?”

“Fuck, of course I do,” he said. Faster than you could register, he was ripping a condom wrapper and sliding it onto his free length. His cock stood angry and hard against his stomach. Perhaps your dramatic words weren’t so far-fetched. You couldn’t wait for him.

“Then do it, please,” you said. “Right now, this pussy is all yours. Use it the way it should be used.”

He muttered a swear under his breath and you knew he was in the palm of your hand. His hot breath fanned your neck as he bent over you, cock aligned with your exposed core. For a moment his length slid through your wetness, and he groaned at the warmth that was about to engulf him.

“I’m so fucking wet,” you moaned. “And all for you.”

You would have been lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the exaggerated show you were putting on for him as much as he did. Although, you weren’t sure whether you were allowed to call it exaggeration, at all. Your walls clenched around nothing as the tip of his cock touched your juices and he eyed you like he could’ve eaten you up right then and there.

When he finally entered you, he instantly sighed. His eyes were shut tightly as he dealt with the impact of feeling you around his shaft. A small spark of triumph went through you. That was, until he pushed your legs up and snapped his hips against yours. A sharp, sudden burst of pleasure shot through you and the coil in your stomach tightened all at once. You suspected your plan was backfiring slightly. Your words not only appealed to him and his famished mind and body. They also got to your head, and there you were, barely able to contain yourself under a load of blind hunger.

“You want me to fuck you senseless, huh?” he asked. His words went straight to your core. Nonetheless, you had a goal to work towards and you weren’t set on giving up.

“Yes, oh my god,” you whimpered. “That’s all I’m asking for. Please, I know you can. You always fuck me so well.”

In response, he rammed his body into yours so abruptly, you gave off a noise of surprise and pleasure at the same time. He bent his upper body over yours to support himself. His hands lay flat on the seat on both sides of your head. His thrusts made your legs shake now and then, when his cock hit that one spot inside of you. It was causing you to see entire galaxies on the inside of your eyelids. When you blinked up at him, the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. Darkness had always suit him better than the golden sunset, either way. The muscles in his arms flexed and his eyebrows furrowed, and for a moment you called victory yours. But you couldn’t be sure for longer than a moment.

Because from one second to another he straightened up and slowed his thrusts. The gradualness had something equally as striking. He dragged his cock through your scarlet walls and his fingers found your clit. You drew out a ragged breath and cursed him for regaining the upper hand. Yet, you quickly abandoned the thought of defeat. When you allowed yourself to feel the pleasure, every last thought vanished at last. You moaned and whimpered helplessly. Without overthinking, you wrapped your hand around his wrist. He shot you a confused smirk.

“Too much, baby?” he said. “Think you won’t be able to handle it? A shame. It would really be too bad if you lost. You were doing so well up to now.”

You swallowed, hard. His patronizing voice tugged at your nerves and yet you loved when he spoke to you this way during sex. And he was aware of it – hence his knowing grin.

“Don’t stop moving,” you asked him to keep up his thrusts. “It’s not fair, otherwise.”

“Oh no. I would never dare break the rules,” he said.

He did as you said, and it only made things more mind-consuming for you. You were again reminded of the small tornado raging in the pit of your belly, threatening to consume you all over. It was only a matter of time. But what he could do, you could do better.

“Do you like fucking me in my skirt?” you taunted him, blinking ever so sweetly. Your eyes were dripping honey as you put on your most innocent gaze. “Am I pretty like this?”

“You’re the prettiest,” he muttered, biting his lip as if he was stopping a thousand moans from spilling out. “So. Fucking. Hot.”

“If I wear this skirt to class tomorrow, and you see me in the halls, will you think of this moment?” you asked. His fingers on your clit were shaky and moving unevenly. You might have been digging your own grave along with his. You didn’t care. Too many lectures you had wasted, barely able to concentrate because of the boy on top of you.

“Definitely. You weren’t wearing that earlier, at the restaurant,” he said. You wondered how many people had ever seen him this way – utterly breathless, all his cool vaporizing at once.

“Good observation,” you said, but you were struggling with your words as much as he was unable to keep calm. What was meant to sound lazy and seductive had morphed into a whimper and small sighs. “I wasn’t. I- I put it on just for you.”

He cursed again and abandoned all his remaining self-control. His grip on you was iron-tight and you clenched your fists. Oh, how you wished you could have buried your head into a pillow, or better even, the crook of a neck. Instead, you moaned his name almost soundlessly and searched for his dark eyes.

“Say my name again,” he demanded, like it was his last request on earth. So, you obeyed, only because you would have done anything for him right now, if it meant that he would keep fucking you that way.

“Oh my- my god,” you moaned. “Please don’t stop, fuck-“

“You look so hot right now, baby,” he groaned. “Shit- I could come just looking at you.”

“Then do it,” you said. Challengingly, you both smirked at each other. It lasted only the blink of an eye. You felt your insides twist before you could have prevented it. And all of a sudden, you crashed. Your intense orgasm erupted, and it took you several seconds to realize it, but then you heard it. His high-pitched moans, quiet and curse-stricken, could only mean one thing. You weren’t the only one, and therefore not the first to reach your high. A content smile spread on your face as his messy thrusts went on for a short while and you bathed in the remaining moments of bliss.

Silence set in as you both kept still to catch your breaths. You worried he would pin the loss on you, nonetheless, and inwardly braced yourself for his accusations. But to your surprise, he only laughed and collapsed on top of you. His breath tickled your neck slightly.

“We’ll be splitting the bill, I suppose?” he said. He straightened up to look you in the eyes playfully.

“Looks like it,” you said. You guessed his fighting spirit had been appeased and his energy had been spent on better things than arguing with you. You never minded it.

“Did you have a nice study session? Does the library lady assume you’re homeless and actually living there, yet?” Chohee teased as you entered your shared kitchen. She was typing on her phone but looked up when you only laughed.

“Is that a hickey?” she asked, and you knew you were done for. “What exactly is it you were studying? H/N’s body?”

“I guess I should tell you. Sooner or later, you’ll know,” you relented.

“Tell me what? Oh my god. Are you guys dating? Are you dating H/N?”

“No! You know I have no time for a boyfriend,” you said. “But…we’ve been hooking up.”

“Damn girl,” she said. “What do you have on him that he keeps coming back?”

“Excuse me? Am I really that boring of a company?”

“No. You’re the best company I could ever ask for, obviously,” she said, smiling at you. “But you remember his reputation. He sleeps with the same girl only once.”

“It’s just a stupid rumor,” you said. “Besides, we’re not just hooking up. He’s my friend. You already knew that.”

“Friend, huh?” Chohee asked. “Alright. So, you’re telling me he can hang out with you without trying to get it on?”

“He can, actually. And let me tell you, he’s cool. And pretty funny, too,” you said. She raised her eyebrows at you. “We’ve set some rules. We hook up, but also hang out as friends. Neither is allowed to be upset when the other turns down sex. We can both hook up with anyone else, still. No jealousy, no attachments. Just a good time.”

“Alright,” Chohee nodded. “If you’re so close, do you think you could introduce me to some of his friends sometime?”

You laughed, nodding. Chohee and H/N had quite some things in common, you realized then. Maybe that’s why you liked the two of them so much.

“Let’s see how long that lasts, then. Don’t wrap him too tightly around your finger, or he might trip and fall,” she winked. It was your turn to raise your eyebrow. Whatever she might have been insinuating – you had zero plans of making it reality. (Yet.)

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blouisparadise · 4 years ago

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Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Harry radiates sex appeal. We hope you enjoy this fics! If you find our rec lists useful, please support them by liking the post and reblogging it to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Gimme Gimme | Mature | 5957 words

He dragged himself to his bedroom and flopped down face-first onto the bed, groaning, and started thinking about that new neighbor. Maybe this was his chance. Maybe this was the time for him to actually try and find a love interest that lasted longer than 2 weeks. He rolled over and sat up on the bed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked out the window.

And what he saw was probably the most amazing thing on the planet.

Walking into his new neighbor’s house was a man in a suit, carrying a briefcase while his Porsche sat in the driveway.

2) Under the Vanilla Sky | Explicit | 8006 words

Who the hell wears a hat like that on a yacht? That's one of the things Louis thinks when he sees Harry from across the deck of the most expensive, ridiculous boat he's ever been on. He also thinks he'd like to get closer. Just to see what's under those aviators. Just to verify that, yes, in fact, those white swim trunks might be a little see-through when wet. Just to see if someone could really be that hot in real life. On a yacht. In the Caribbean sea just off the coast of St. Barts.

Here's what really happened on that yacht.

3) Sweet Like Cherry Vodka | Not Rated | 8039 words

When he exits the building he instantly sees him. He’s leaning against his white Mercedes Benz convertible. The car makes him look more expensive. Of course, the navy blue suit that fits tightly around his broad shoulders — making Louis want to fall to his knees, mind you — also helps to get the message across. He looks up from his phone, his sleek black aviators block Louis from seeing his dark eyes.

When Louis knows Harry's watching him he smiles. A grin grows on Harry’s mouth, his strong jaw moves cockily while he chews his gum. How does someone make chewing gum so hot?

“Need a ride sweetheart?” Harry calls to him, the statement adds to his cocky demeanor.

“You know I do, silly.” Louis laughs at how ridiculous the older man can be.

4) You And I ‘Till The Day We Die | Explicit | 10807 words

Prompt 124: A fic inspired by Groupie Love by Lana Del Rey, where Harry is a Rockstar and Louis is his cute little boyfriend who tries to hide himself in the middle of the crowd. (Preferably set in the 80s)

5) Guns N Roses | Mature | 14069 words

Harry's an assassin, Louis is a government agent. They hate each other but not really.

6) My English Love Affair | Explicit | 19198 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

The thing about sleeping with a member of a famous indie band is that the inevitability of having a song written about you is most likely a hundred percent. The second thing is that in the end, nobody's supposed to find out it's about you.

The one where Harry writes a song about his English love affair and Louis sleeps with someone in White Eskimo and all he gets is a stupid song written about him.

7) The Way The Storm Blows | Explicit | 21649 words

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

8) Even The Best Laid Plans | Explicit | 25190 words

Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

9) A Trail Of Honey Through It All | Explicit | 27086 words

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

10) Carnelian | Explicit | 30631 words

Louis finds himself donating blood to the most beautiful being he's ever seen.

11) Take My Pure (And Wash It All Away ‘Til I’m Cured) | Explicit | 40629 words

They're all 19. Louis is a twink, Harry is a frat boy hunk. Harry for some reason wants his makeup done for pride, and Louis is just trying so very hard to stay clear of all alleged fuckboys this year.

12) In The Still Of The Night | Explicit | 68568 words

The Dirty Dancing AU where Louis is a feisty omega who wants to change the world, Harry is an alpha from the wrong side of the tracks, and nobody puts Louis in a corner.

13) Waiting On You | Explicit | 76576 words

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

14) Your Name is Tattooed on My Heart | Explicit | 86809 words

Note: This fic has mentions of top Louis.

Louis is ready to find the love of his life, but first he has to stop falling for the punk rocker next door.

15) Beyond The Point Of Weird | Mature | 108331 words

Louis meets Harry one night and well... Of course things lead from one thing to another. How could Louis not be interested in having a go at the ex-Rockstar who'd starred in his first wet dream?

When Harry asks him to pretend to be his boyfriend to help him clear up his image, Louis agrees because why the fuck not. Yet it kind of feels like the only 'fake' part of their relationship is the title they chose for it... And then it gets confusing.

Louis' pretty sure he walked right into a trap - one he's not quite sure he wants to escape.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#fic recs #bottom louis #top harry #sex appeal #blp fic recs #blp #larry

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nintendont2502 · 2 years ago

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Got tagged in this by @laivanfurroo !

Hot or cold shower - hot all the way. I refuse to step foot into a cold shower (in the middle of summer ill occasionally (very reluctantly) have a cold shower but it just doesn't feel the same. Can you really call it a shower if the walls aren't steaming up to draw on?)

Texting or calling - texting texting texting 100%. I *hate* talking out loud, and I'm also just. Incredibly bad at forming my thoughts into coherent words and then getting those words out semi-coherently so it's a lot easier to text. Plus when I'm texting I can do my. Fucked up punctuation,,, or Capitalise Important Words, or do this B3c 0-0 (and also I can add in extra random thoughts/tangents in text)

Earbuds or headphones - I got a pair of noise cancelling headphones for my birthday and I feel wrong not having them around my neck at all times. Earbuds just hurt my ears and usually fall out anyway (plus with headphones you can block out other sounds/people)

Paperback or hardcover - honestly I'm not sure if I have a preference? Most of my physical books are Paperback since they're cheaper, and they are a lot easier to carry around, but I love how important a hardcover feels. I'd say Paperback for regular books and hardcover for important books (but I read most of my books digitally anyway lmaoo)

Matte or gel - uh. Yes

Twelve hour or twenty four hour clock - another thing I don't really have an opinion on. Leaning towards twenty four hour just because the amount of times I've woken up at 2 am and panicked thinking it was 2 *pm*, and then panic even more because I can't figure out how to tell if it's am or pm on my phones clock is. Embarrassing, and twenty four hour time fixes that

Sci fi or horror - I love horror but only very specific *types* of horror (mainly psychological horror), but I love almost all Sci fi (even if it's mediocre. *especially* if it's mediocre)

Blue or green - hmm this is a tough one. I love so many shades of blue (mainly dark and desaturated blues) but GOD do I love dark/forest green. Gotta lean towards blue just because on average I'm more likely to like any given shade of blue, while I'm more picky with greens

Sunsets or sunrises - Sunsets all the way. Not just because if I'm seeing a sunrise I'm up *WAY* too early, but I also just love the feeling of sitting and watching the sunset, and then seeing the stars come out. (Plus where I live has ridiculously good aunsets I need to get some photos)

Tulips or orchids - I've literally never seen either of these before but after looking them up I *guess* Tulips? Kangaroo paws are still better though

Candlelight or moonlight - I love being outside at night with only the moonlight, it's so calming

Pen or pencil - 90 percent of the time my pencils are dulled down so I definitely prefer the constantly sharp tips of pens - also half the time I can't see my own writing in pencil but I always can in pen. Pens that smudge when you write can die by my blade though

Pandas or koalas - Pandas are overrated. I may be biased though

Gold or silver - gold is obnoxiously bright + hard to use right.

Sneakers or boots - i love my boots but also they destroy my feet every time I wear them. Sneakers are less cool but more comfortable + practical

Denim or leather jacket - Denim beloved. I hate the feel of leather jackets

Pink or purple - why he ourple

Chocolate or sour candy - sour gummy worms are literally the greatest things on earth

Drive in cinema or the theatre - drive in cinemas are cool but I love the experience of watching movies (especially horror movies) on a huge screen with a crowd of other people

Deodorant or perfume - this may be the Transgenderism(tm) speaking but I've never liked perfume. Give me the lynx xbox bodyspray any day

Pastel blue or earth tones - unless the pastel blue is desaturated/grey toned I just. Don't really like it on its own. Earth tones WITH pastel blue though

Lemonade or fruit juice - most fruit juice is way too sweet. At least lemonade isn't pretending to be helpful. (Depends on what you consider lemonade though. Lift/Solo? Fucking love em. Generic lemonade/Sprite? Eh.)

Past or future - god this one made me think for way too long. On one hand, at least you know what you're getting with the past? Like the future has greater potential for good things to happen, but also greater potential for terrible things to happen, and the concept of the unknown terrifies me. But on the other hand i don't want to just do the same thing for the rest of my life. At least the future is new, even if it's terrifying?

Tagging @iknaenmal @gillbuoy and @ominous-babe though if anyone else wants to do it feel free! (Also if I tagged you you dont have to do it!)

#wow that was long #i have a lot of thoughts today apparently #me.txt

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mysticonsheadcanons · 2 years ago

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Yo mysticons, do you ever wake up randomly in the middle of the night with the urge to play your favorite game? Proxima, have you ever been home alone before at night and had something fall over, but you wonder what could have knocked it down because your home alone? Quasarla, is there something less than 1 percent of people know about you? If there is then what is it? Naivara, what's your favorite and least favorite subjects of school? And Gandobi, ever fully blast a song by mistake because you forgot how high your volume was infront of someone you wouldn't want that to happen infront of? Also everyone, on a scale from 1 to 10, how likely do you think I'd be to never learn my lesson about this one thing:

One night I was trying to go to sleep because it was really late and I was battling it since 9:30 and it was 11:00 at night, my grandparents and little cousin were asleep and it was also a school night, I fell asleep at 11:45 and woke up at 1am and thought: *maybe I'll go on my phone until I feel sleepy again*

my ADHD: don't do it!

My ASD: don't do it!

My brain: don't do it!

Me: I'm gonna do it! 😈

So I was up until 2:30 making gacha characters when this went down: My ASD: STOP OR YOULL BE SLEEPY THE WHOLE DAY TOMORROW!!!!

Me: I DONT GIVE TWO CRAPS!!!!

My ADHD: Just go grab a can of Pepsi, you'll be asleep in 30 seconds -_-

My ASD: no, go grab your sketchbook from the kitchen table

My brain: no, just go into the living room and stare at the stars

Me: *thinks* *what do I do?!*

My brain, asd, and adhd: *all arguing and staring an inner war in my head*

Me myself: is this what all people go through on a nightly basis?! *hides under blanket frustrated*

Then sometime later I managed to fall asleep with that war raging on inside my head, woke up the next morning, and I was tired the whole day

(4 days later)

My asd, adhd, and brain: OKAY!!! NO MORE!!! YOUVE BEEN DOING THIS FOR FOUR DAYS STRAIGHT!!! ITS TIME TO GO TO SLEEP ITS ALREADY 10:00!!!! DONT MAKE THE SAME *BLEEP*ING MISTAKE TWICE!!!!

Me: I don't make the same mistake twice, I make it five or six times just to be sure! 🤪

Brain: do you guys think she'll ever learn?

My asd: nope

My adhd: not a chance

My brain: I don't think so either -_-

Me: *falls asleep*

My brain: alright, let's not keep her awake binge watching the walking dead next time -_- that's probably what started this -_-

My adhd and asd: Agreed!

Note: I won't be rating how likely you are to learn from your mistakes, as you seem to think part of it are your asd and adhd, so that would complicate the rankings, as everyone with asd is different, so how much it impacts one individual is hard to tell.

ARKAYNA: Not really.

ZARYA: Yeah, sometimes.

EM: Not games per say, but I'm like that when I have an idea for an invention sometimes.

PIPER: My games are usually active, so not unless I'm really restless.

PROXIMA: Yes, and that scares me.

QUASARLA: I collect stuffed animals.

NAIVARA: My favourite subject is Math and my least favourite subject is Social Studies.

GANDOBI: I did that on the dragon train once. (Quasarla: Didn't you do that twice?)

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violetsoju · 4 years ago

Text

perfect timing

miya atsumu · fluff · 3.6k

take 1 · take 2

summary: a weekly grocery run takes an unexpected turn, but brings an unexpected surprise too

a/n: an attempt to brush up my rustiness after months of staring at my uncompleted wips before working on a fictrade piece T_T

Having a good sense of time is important.

Being punctual for appointments, managing time well and efficiently, making sure every second is well spent and not wasted.

It’s a trait that should be rightfully ingrained into the daily habits and lives of everyone. An unspoken rule that should be abided to.

Miya Atsumu has a good sense of time. Perfect, literally.

Perfect in the sense that he’s always there when he shouldn’t be. Hogging the toilet when your stomach is about to unleash its flurry of misery and rage, using the washing machine and taking up all the space on the laundry rack when the sun is finally out, barging into your room without knocking despite telling him to do so for the umpteenth time when you’re in the middle of a workout that has the wind knocked out of you or a gravity defying headstand.

“I swear to God, Miya, if I break my neck or back with you giving me yet another heart attack, I’ll mix bleach into your shampoo so your hair will fade into the ugliest shade of blonde where your roots and ends will be all frizzy and damaged and unsalvageable even if you cry and beg the professionals for help.” You seriously need to come up with new threats because the man that’s currently splayed on the couch isn’t the least affected by your words.

Atsumu merely shrugs, tapping away on his phone without meeting your deadly glare. “Come on, you’re not that weak. Plus, it’s important news!” You’re a hundred percent sure that you’re capable of ripping that shit-eating grin on his face with your bare hands if it wasn’t a crime. “And you’re the first to know. Even before ‘Samu, so consider yourself honoured, yeah?”

“I would love to reject the honour of knowing the colour of your poop and ensure the safety of my well-being.”

Maybe you should burn his beloved sneaker collection next.

But sometimes, it isn’t all that bad too.

Like how he’s somehow always at home or somewhere nearby when you forget the keys to your shared apartment or accidentally lock yourself out, using him as a human shield or his hat as disguise when you run into someone that screams “To avoid at all costs” on the streets (it’s always when you’re on the third day of unwashed hair, in your most comfortable yet much worn out shirt, or in mismatched socks and slippers), coincidentally having similar off work timings, you wrapping up your day at uni and him wrapping up his day from practice, waiting for your respective trains to arrive to walk home under his umbrella on a rainy day because being the scatterbrain you are, umbrellas and rainy days don’t go hand in hand.

Or that one time when you dragged him to your favourite curry place on a random Thursday night and earning a coupon for a months’ worth of unlimited gyoza for being the 300th customer of the day in celebration of their 3rd anniversary. You kept the coupon, of course. He was the 299th customer and you were the 300thcustomer (He nearly tripped on himself when you pushed him through the front door upon hearing the congratulatory news. You brought him along whenever you went that month).

So if you were to balance out the pros and cons, as much as you would like to deny, they actually balance out pretty well, you guess.

So yes, Miya Atsumu having a perfect sense of time is praiseworthy indeed.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───

Sunday evenings are usually reserved for staying in, snuggled in the comfort of your blankets, with either a book in hand or a show that needs serious catch-up on. In other words, Sunday evenings are meant to be spent in the comforts of your home.

But on this Sunday evening, you find yourself out with a week’s worth bag of groceries in hand, hoping you can blast this stuffy nose of yours at the gust of chilly autumn wind blowing your way, with one Miya Atsumu beside you.

It’s a routine for Atsumu and you to go on weekly grocery runs together every Sunday morning. But due to his extra practice session for his upcoming match in a week or so, the trip to the local grocer had to be rescheduled.

It all started when MSBY’s fitness trainer started giving out diet and nutrition plans to the team to keep them in shape during the season. Without his personal chef, Osamu by his side, Atsumu was one lost puppy when it came to meal prepping and preparation in the beginning stages. So being the nice and responsible housemate you are, you assured the younger twin that you’ll make sure he gets the necessary nutrients he needs. The teasing eyebrow waggles and suggestive looks thrown by the middle-aged ladies at the both of you were not in the plan though.

To be honest, you’re surprised that Atsumu has a fair share of cooking knowledge and skills, and that you actually picked up some tips and tricks in the kitchen from him. Like popping rinsed broccoli into the microwave for a minute to pre-cook instead of boiling it because apparently, most nutrients will be lost if it’s boiled over 5 minutes (To quote Osamu, he says). Or that ginger paste which he uses that smells and tastes amazing than the one you’re using.

He can make decent meals for himself, but Osamu definitely has the upper hand here. You’re sure Osamu would shake his head in disapproval at his twin’s menu that changes only once in a blue moon. It’s just because of the diet restrictions, Atsumu would argue. But having the standard broccoli, carrot and chicken trio combo for a whole whooping month is enough for Osamu to burn down his kitchen without a second thought.

There’s a tunnel beneath the railway tracks that links both sides of the neighbourhood, one that is frequently used by the residents of the neighbourhood to get to the other side of town. The local council could have built a railway crossing instead of digging the earth, but perhaps it was due to the natural rolling landscape of the area. It has no doubt become distinct trait of the small cosy neighbourhood you reside in.

Especially during spring, when the pink and white cherry blossoms are in full bloom, or during autumn, when the dense foliage shower the stone pavements with a sea of luscious red and yellow.

“Oh hey, look. They repainted the walls.”

It takes a huge effort to keep your sniffles together and look at your surroundings in peace.

Atsumu’s right. The once dull walls filled with paint cracks are now replaced with vibrant colours splashed on each corner. They’re mostly abstract shapes, but you make out some animal and floral patterns in the midst under the dim lighting. To capture the attention of the fellow younglings in the neighbourhood, you suppose.

“This is new. I don’t think it was here last week.” You trace your fingers against the cold cement walls. “Wait, why didn’t we notice this on our way to the grocer just now?”

He whistles in admiration at the new murals. “We were too hung up on how your precious puddings in the refrigerator just poofed into thin air, I guess.”

“It was definitely you.” You sneer, narrowing your eyes at him. “Who else would have demolished my puddings if it wasn’t you?”

“I told you it wasn’t me! I don’t even like puddings!” He snaps back, flashing his fangs at you. “Maybe it was ‘Samu when he came over last week. Maybe he thought they were mine instead of yours.”

“Fine, let’s see if that’s the case, shall we?” You whip out your phone, ready to dial Osamu’s number when Atsumu suddenly lunges forward towards the nearby wall, bursting out loud exaggeratedly.

“Hey, look! There’s a fox here! Doesn’t it look like our mascot?” He points to the animal drawn on the wall animatedly like a child, eyes sparkling in delight. “Wait, I gotta show this to the team. They’ll be ecstatic! ‘Samu too-”

“First off, your team’s mascot is a jackal, not a fox, you dumbass.” You interject, standing with your arms crossed against your chest, not buying into his ploys. “And your team’s mascot is black, not reddish-orange. There’s a reason why your team is named Black Jackals, player no 13.”

The wide smile on his face stiffens, along with his eyes that loses its glint of hope when you strut past him, not sparing him a glance. “I’m sure you have no objections with this week’s house chores, don’t you?”

He deflates in defeat, trailing behind you with his tail between his legs, accepting his poor fate he brought upon himself.

Along with the chilly wind in autumn is the change in the colour of the skies. It’s around 6 to 7 in the evening, but the sun has decided to call it a day, taking its leave to allow its friend, the moon to grace the skies in its absence.

So despite the new fresh splash of colours on the surrounding walls, the shadows trailing behind your figures lurk longer and with the limited amount of light in the enclosed space.

“They could give the tunnel such a makeover but not the lights, huh.” Atsumu comments. The dim overhead yellow lights flicker even more at his words, buzzing louder than before.

“Don’t you find this familiar?” You ask, a mischievous smile tugging your lips as he tilts his head to look at you in confusion.

“It’s the perfect scene.”

“For what? A secret place for lovers to kiss and make out?” He jokes, casting you a teasing look.

Maybe he should have kept his thoughts to himself.

He gulps nervously when your smile grows wider, eyebrow arched playfully as you take one step, two steps, three steps closer to him, closing the gap just a little more with each step.

There’s no way you’re having the same thoughts as him now, right? Because there’s no way you’d do. Not you, for sure.

He forgets how to breathe when your face is just mere inches away from him, forgets how to move when he finds his back pressed against the cool walls, grip on his reusable grocery bag so tight he feels his nails digging into his skin. The tip of your shoes meet each other, grocery bags hanging side by side, moist breaths mingled with each other.

If he were to dance with the devil, he guesses this would be it, because the devilish smile stretched across your face has him ready to risk it all. Just for you.

A small, cold shiver runs down his spine when you lean in, warm breath ghosting his skin as your lips find its way next to his ears, chuckling at the change in his usual confident demeanour.

The drop in your tone intensifies the goosebumps trailing on his skin even more, tickling the shell of his ears as he shudders. “It’s the perfect scene for…”

This can’t be happening right now. This isn’t what he had in plan. This is all too much to process at once. This is-

“Murder.”

His eyes that he didn’t know were shut closed shoots open immediately.

“And it’ll be the perfect spot to commit it.”

What the actual heck.

You can’t help but smile smugly at the look on Atsumu’s face as you pull back, like a deer caught in the headlights, frozen in place. Smoothing out the invisible creases on his upper chest, you flash him the sweetest smile you can while giving his shoulder a tight squeeze.

“Remember to take a good look around and choose your spot when the time comes, yeah?”

It takes Atsumu a few seconds to snap out of his shock and disbelief, and by the time he comes back to his senses, you’re already steps up ahead from him.

The audacity of this woman. You, to be specific.

“Hey, that wasn’t funny! At all!” He shouts as he jogs towards you, face burning from the heat of dismay and embarrassment.

“What did you think I was gonna do to you, huh?” You ask, laughing at the small pout that sits on his lips, betrayal written all over his face as he falls in step with you. “Don’t tell me you thought I was gonna kabedon you like those shojo mangas.”

Atsumu snorts like it’s the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard. “As if you’d have the chance to. Don’t be so full of yourself. If anyone were to kabedon anyone, that would be me, not you.” But boy, he’s sure that his heart was about to leap out of his throat right back then.

“But I’m serious though,” You stop in your tracks to face him straight on, holding in your chuckles as he acts like everything’s normal despite visibly flinching at your sudden pause. “Do something that has you on your death list like barging into my room without knocking again and this is where you’ll end up.”

“There’s always the option to lock your door…” He mutters under his breath.

He curses the echoes bouncing off the walls as you shoot him a murderous glare that says, “Try me”, raising both hands in surrender.

The tunnel seems to stretch on for miles today for some reason. It feels like you both have been walking for hours, given the number of incidents and threats he has received over the course of navigating through the straight dark tunnel.

“They seriously need to change the lights.” He grumbles. “I did not sign up for a free haunted house pass when I moved to this neighbourhood.”

“It’s a horror story living with you already, so it makes no difference.”

The offended scowl on his face and daggers shot with his eyes makes it hard for you to stifle your laughter. You’re on a roll roasting him today, while he’s on a roll getting roasted by you today.

“One more flicker and I swear that it’ll trip, and we’ll actually need torch lights to get through like coal miners with headlamps. Or like cavemen with fire torches.” He continues grumbling on like an old man.

“Stop being so dramatic, Miya. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you and save your ass if that ever happens so just trust me-”

A loud thud crashes from behind, startling the both of you, jumping slightly, words dying at the tip of your tongues. Two pair of wide eyes blink at each other, slowly turning to the source of the sound.

The light at the furthest end of the tunnel has gone out. After a few seconds, the loud thud crashes again. First on the left side, then on the right side, followed by more loud thuds, series of dim yellow lights dissolving into the darkness segment by segment.

If this isn’t a scene from a thriller or a horror movie, you really don’t know what it is.

“What in the world-”

“Miya Atsumu, I swear to God, your goddamn mouth-”

The static buzzing noises are swallowed by the loud thuds overhead, and like a predator making its move towards its prey, there’s only a few more segments before the both of you are plunged into the eerie darkness.

“We gotta move. Like now.”

“Yeah. Move.”

There’s no fight or flight option here. Only a flight or flight option when his terror-stricken face is replaced by the absolute obscure darkness.

High-pitched screams and shrieks ring in the enclosed space, amplified by the superb echo effects.

The only thing you can make out of the incoherent string of jumbled screeches is the word “Run”.

So you run. And he runs. Dragging your feet towards the light at the end of the tunnel with all your might, away from the unknown dangers gnawing at your footsteps behind.

It’s the sound of crunched dead, dry leaves on the ground and the yellow streetlights on the sidewalk above that has the both of you screeching to a halt, flipping off your flight or flight switch, gasping for air although it pierces your lungs like a cold arrow. The sweat dripping on your foreheads is cold, a stark contrast with the burn in your legs from the life-or-death sprint.

Atsumu’s hair is tousled in different directions, his blonde locks swept up messily like he just got down from a ride up a tornado. He blinks forcefully a couple of times, shaking his head lightly to get the hair that’s sticking his eyes out of the way. But they stick firmly like glue on his forehead, beads of sweat acting as a glue to keep them in place.

He stops moving around when your fingers brush his curls away from his eyes, soothing them out gently, a soft smile dotting your lips. You’re sure your hair is as unruly as his because he returns the action, albeit a little clumsy and as he fumbles to smooth your hair as neatly as he can with the chilly wind not being much of help.

You wonder why he doesn’t use his dominant hand to carry out the action until you look down to your side.

Oh.

His eyes follow your trail of sight, wandering downwards too.

Atsumu’s right hand is wrapped around your wrist. It’s a firm grip, but not one that hurts, but one that’s protective.

Maybe it’s the shock that hasn’t worn off from the chaotic situation just now, because instead of letting go of your hand, he holds it a little tighter, and instead of shaking your hand away, you ball your hand into a fist.

He looks at you quizzically, not comprehending what’s going on.

The worst part is, you yourself don’t know what’s going on in your brain too.

Who clenches their fist when someone is holding their hand, all ready to land a punch?

“Rock. In like, scissors paper rock.” You blabber nonsensically, gesturing your fist like it isn’t the most obvious thing ever. “You have paper, I have rock. So I lose. You win. Ha ha.”

The confusion and puzzlement distorting his face doesn’t ease at your half-ass attempted explanation.

This is why you shouldn’t open your mouth when your brain is fried and in haywire mode.

And there’s no way you’re going down alone in this terribly awkward situation.

You nod your head towards his hand that’s still on your wrist, giving him the same questioning look he gave you before.

Now it’s Atsumu’s turn for his brain to go all wonky and out of tune.

“I, er, thought you would be scared. Yeah. That’s why.” He stumbles on his words, bringing your hand up like some prized possession. “And to prevent losing you along the way. What if some aliens captured you just now? Don’t wanna lodge a missing person report later.”

His sloppy reasoning earns a snort from you in return. “You’re just scared, that’s all. Told you I’ll be the one protecting you.” You poke at him playfully.

He opens his mouth to shoot a retort, but stops midway, as if a cat got his tongue. Instead, he pulls your hand forward, leading you up the slope to the sidewalk above with big, long strides.

You almost miss the reddish hue on his cheeks and the sheepish grin tugging his lips. “Yeah, maybe I was scared. Maybe I wanted to try protecting you too.”

Ah, the wonders of the brain going into overdrive with the brake pads nowhere to be seen.

When you match your steps with him on the flat pavement, looking up to his side profile, you wish you could capture the moment forever with your eyes, because the silver glow that the moon goddess showers on him makes him look ethereal. It’s like he’s glowing under the night skies, with the stars as a mere backdrop, complementing his boyish yet soft features.

The gods do really have their favourites.

He catches you staring, and flashes you his signature grin knowingly.

You nudge his ribs with your elbow to hide your flustered expression, gesturing towards his hand that’s still on yours.

“Not taking a chance. Gotta make sure you don’t disappear off somewhere to save my trip to the police station.” He huffs, shaking his head in defence firmly like a child rejecting candy from a stranger.

“Fine, fine.” You giggle, swaying your hands with each step. He chuckles at your actions, warmth blossoming across his chest. “Here’s to you protecting me from whatever harm and danger there is for today.”

It wasn’t the perfect timing for Atsumu to hold your hand, but perhaps it’s the perfect excuse to hold your hand.

It wasn’t the perfect move for you to make when Atsumu held your hand, but perhaps it’s the perfect moment to hear the quiet confession that whispers in the night.

Next time, if he is blessed enough to be granted the chance again, he wants to have his hand not on yours, but in yours.

And he wants to protect you from whatever harm and danger there is in this big wide world not only for today, but for as long as he can.

Maybe the perfect timing isn’t all that perfect, maybe it’s hidden within the chaos and uncertainty, tucked in the deepest ends of the beating heart where the raw and honest feelings lie.

The chilly breeze in the night nipping on your skin doesn’t feel that bad anymore.

“I should’ve taken a picture of you just now, looking like a madman with your hair sticking out like a starfish and send it to Osamu.”

“Don’t you dare.”

#miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #atsumu imagines #atsumu fics #haikyuu writings #haikyuu x reader #can you tell what happened irl and what was made up hhhhhhh #i am amazed by my own wth moments too LOL

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21burritoseavey · 4 years ago

Text

Going Public (d.s.)

a/n: Hey! I'm sorry this took so long, but here you go, really hope you enjoy this! also i guess you could say secret relationship is pt.1, hollywood fix is pt.2 and this is pt.3 but you can read them on their own:) sorry if this is a little unedited! and...bad lol

Summary: Daniel and Y/n have a little movie night and do the TikTok trend of “I hate all me, but when he loves me I feel like...” and post it, confirming their relationship.

Y/n always stayed over at Daniel’s place at the end of the school week. After her shift at work, she’d head over to his house so they could spend the evening together. Sometimes when Christian wasn’t around or Daniel was home alone, she’d just let herself in and greet Kobe as he ran towards the front door, and she’d see Daniel in the studio or in his bedroom. They’d cuddle under the blankets and have the TV on in the background, gentle chatter flowing between them. Those nights were easily Y/n’s favourite part of the week.

One Friday night, Y/n had plodded to the front door. Her muddy footsteps followed her to the welcome mat, testament to the slight chill and light autumn drizzle outside. She wiped the souls of her boots against the grimy, brown strings with her hand gripped onto the door handle and was surprised to see the house strangely clean and empty when the door squealed open. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have thought no one was home, but Daniel’s text fifteen minutes earlier told her otherwise. I mean, even the gentle pitter patter of Kobe’s paws didn’t fill her ears when she kicked off her shoes.

“Daniel,” She called softly, brushing her fingers against the marble countertop. Y/n walked over to the kitchen cabinets and started rummaging around for a snack. Her movements were comfortable and unashamed, the sight of her had the corners of Daniel’s lips instantly turning upwards into a smile. He had emerged from his bedroom silently, having just gotten off a phone call with his manager, Randy.

His footsteps creaking along the floorboards had Y/n snapping her head to the sound and she jumped back in fear as she saw him. “Oh God,” She breathed, pressing a hand to her heart in momentary embarrassment. The packet of chips in the cabinet toppled over the edge and Y/n spun back around. “Okay, this house is haunted or something.” She laughed. Daniel chuckled quietly and walked over to the counter. One mug of hot chocolate sat on the tabletop, steaming, and swirling with a sweet aroma. “Oh, is that for me?” She asked Daniel, walking towards him to drape her arms across his waist and give him a hug.

He let a gentle laugh fall from his lips. “No, it’s for Kobe over there,” he joked, looking over Y/n to gaze at the small puppy curled up on the blanketed sectional sofa. Y/n looked over her shoulder to follow gaze, noticing more than just Kobe in the corner. The living room was illuminated with warm light by two small lamps on opposite sides of the couch. Blankets and pillows were brought in from Daniel’s bedroom to scatter throughout the little space and a bowl of caramel popcorn - Y/n’s favourite - sat amongst a plethora of snacks.

Y/n walked towards the couch, letting out a quiet, “what’s all this for?” before she faced Daniel again.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, I just thought it would be nice since it’s cold and rainy tonight.” He set the hot cup of hot chocolate on the coffee table.

“Well, thank you, Daniel.” Y/n tugged a corner of her lips into a shy smirk and padded towards him. Daniel willingly wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed his body against hers, the feeling of her sinking into his soothing embrace had smeared a smile onto his face.

“Do you want to pick the movie?” He asked, his whisper muffled by her hair.

“Yeah,” Y/n stepped back gently and looked across the room to the TV remote.

Daniel chuckled, “m’kay, but if you spend twenty hours trying to pick a movie…” He trailed off, picking up the TV remote with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, that was one time.” She defended, snatching it from him.

----

“What’s with the photo?” She smiled towards the camera behind a sip of her drink. The movie Y/n chose was Pride and Prejudice, and she was proud to tell Daniel it only took her five minutes to pick it out. Ribbons of yellowy light shone over their faces as they slumped back on the couch, blankets wrapped around them, and a bowl of popcorn shared between them in the middle.

“Just ‘because I love you,” Daniel uttered, biting his upturned lips. He dropped his phone to his lap.

“Y’ sure”

“Okay, I have to tell you something,” He beamed, eyes ablaze with zest and heart beating with excitement. He set her face in his palms and kept his calm smile, he watched her eyes lit up at his statement. Y/n drew back his hands and dropped them to her lap with his fingers entwined with hers. She shuffled to devote her attention to him completely.

“What is it?”

Daniel giggled and leaned in for another kiss. “Something...” He glanced everywhere but her, knowing well that he said something that would absolutely drive her crazy.

“Stop being so mysterious,” Y/n huffed, dropping his hand to cross her arms.

“Okay fine,” He chuckled breathily. “I think we should tell my fans we're in a relationship.” He said, shifting his gaze to rest on Y/n while she processed the news.

“Yo-you mean like-” Y/n gaped, “like really tell them. Like say: we are in a relationship?”

Daniel nodded swiftly. “Yeah,”

“How should we tell them?” Y/n asked, reaching across the couch to retrieve her phone. Kobe shifted sleepily in her lap and stretched his paws, tickling her arms and she giggled at the feeling. “Kobers, Dani’s fans are going to know about me.” She cooed, scratching his soft stomach lightly.

“I was thinking I could just post a-” “Oh! Oh! Oh! Should we make a TikTok?!” She exclaimed, answering her own question before he could even comprehend her sudden excitement. “Yes! We really should make a TikTok!” Her fingers led her to her TikTok app, and she scrolled through sounds to find out what video they should make. Random sounds filled the quiet space every once and a while as she sampled the audio. She wanted it to be perfect. The most perfect announcement video there ever was, and since the young couple had thought about this moment for a long time, Y/n already had a few ideas brewing in her mind. “Look Daniel, this one’s cute, right?” She said through a wide smile, facing the dimly lit screen towards him. A little montage of another couple came into view as Daniel glanced up from his own phone.

“Yeah, that’s cute.” He shrugged, plopping a fistful of popcorn into his mouth.

“We have to be that cute.” Y/n spoke, “You have to be that cute,” She bit back her smile, watching Daniel’s head whip towards her in fake offence out of the corner of her eye.

“Hey! I’m always cute!” ----

By the time Daniel and Y/n had finally finished filming their TikTok, the natural light outside had diminished completely, leaving the dark sky aglow with mere city lights in the distance. Daniel lifted himself off the couch towards the doors and windows to draw the blinds. Y/n watched him tiredly from the couch, eyes drifting to his ocean blue eyes and brunette hair dusted with blonde and-

“What are you thinking about, baby?” Daniel asked through the quiet room, kneeled beside her on the floor. He leaned back on the edge of the couch and rested his head on her lap. Y/n giggled, watching his eyes drift to the ceiling before meeting hers. She leaned in and giggled onto his lips before they shared a quick kiss. Daniel groaned tiredly as he lifted himself up onto the couch again, hands habitually falling into Y/n’s and head resting on her shoulder as he gazed at the blank screen. The movie had been abandoned ever since Y/n had the idea of making a TikTok - paused on a sweet scene of two lovers together, just like the young couple on the couch in real life.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Daniel.” Y/n asked again, glimpsing up from her phone to really see if, he was sure. The TikTok remained in the drafts of Daniel’s individual account.

“A hundred percent, Y/n”

“I’m scared about what they’re going to say.” She frowned.

“Don’t even worry about it,” He consoled her.

“Okay,” She gave a half smile, although the slight fear lingered in her voice.

“Let’s just watch our movie and check it out later,” Daniel pressed the post button, sending Y/n into a fit of nervous giggles at how easy it was for him. Her eyes lingered on the video for a few long seconds, but Daniel whisked gaze away from the screen to meet him. Endearing and relaxed. He leaned in and bumped their noses lightly before letting their lips meet for a soft kiss. Y/n pulled him closer, tugging the blanket draped across his back higher up so it could envelop them both. Daniel’s giggles pulled them out of their lingering kisses and pressed one strong kiss to her lips again before continuing the movie. For a while, it was just them, together. In Daniel’s living room. Lights off. Lamps on and a movie playing quietly across from them. And for the first time in a long time, Y/n didn’t let the external opinions of everyone else get to her.

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