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i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend · 4 years

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Sexiled (Part 21/23) ~ Steve Rogers x Reader ~ College!AU

A/N: Hi my lovelies! Happy Friday!

Summary: Finals hell is upon them. Nothing ever goes to plan.

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader; others mentioned

Rating: T

Warnings: Language probably, nothing really though. smidges of frustration. mostly FLUFF

Word Count: 1375

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You really did wish that you could have stayed in that moment with Steve forever. Especially when you were catapulted right back into the final push for the semester as soon as you got back on campus.

On the plus side, Steve had toured Professor Erskine’s lab and fallen in love. He’d asked to start volunteering before they finished the visit and Erskine was thrilled to have him. Steve didn’t stop beaming for days. Although he wouldn’t officially start until next semester, he went in twice a week until classes ended for some trainings, which further limited your time together.

You were both so burnt out after classes ended, that the first day of the study period you binge watched the entirety of the Witcher without moving, only taking bathroom breaks.

On the second day of the study period, hour thirteen of studying you got asked a question that stopped you in your tracks.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You looked up from your biology textbook in open confusion. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Will you go on a date with me?” the blonde asked with a grin.

You rolled your eyes and went back to your notes. “I think you’ve been studying too long.”

“Come on,” he pouted. “I’m serious.”

You put your highlighter down and stared at him.

“Steve. We’ve been dating for like two months.”

“I know.” He grinned. “But in all that time, I haven’t taken you on a proper date.”

“Huh,” you hummed as you thought about it. “I guess you’re right.”

“It’s a travesty really. So what do you say? Can I take you on a proper date?”

You cocked your head as you considered it.

“Hmm. I don’t know.”

“Please, sweetness.”

“I’d love to,” you finally agreed.

“Yes!”

You held up a finger to halt his celebrations.

“But not until after finals.”

His smile didn’t dim in the least.

“Deal.”

Over the course of the week, Steve would mention the upcoming date whenever he needed a study break, but refused to give any details.

“So what should I wear for our first date? Since you won’t tell me where we’re going,” you pouted at him two days before it would take place.

“Something nice.”

“Nice like I wore to the ballet or nice like I wore to meet your mom?”

“Hmm. Like what you wore to the ballet.”

“Ooh, so you are taking me someplace fancy.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I just like seeing you all dolled up.”

“If you take me to the dining hall while I’m in my favorite dress, I am going to be so mad at you.”

He laughed long and loud, but shook his head.

“I promise it’s not the dining hall.”

“No other hint though? Please?” You batted your eyelashes at him, but to no avail.

“Not even a little one.”

“Fine,” you huffed, leaning back in your seat.

“I promise it will be worth your while.”

“Spending time with you always is.”

After turning in your final writing portfolio, you were finally able to focus all of your attention on the Chemistry final. A group of eight of you met up in the library the day before the exam to review. As the day turned to night they packed it in one by one, until it was just you and Steve. It was well after three when the two of you finally called it quits.

“That is all of the information my brain can take in,” you groaned as you shut your binder.

“Same here,” Steve yawned, rubbing at his eyes. “We should try and get some sleep.”

“Probably a good idea.” You agreed nodding off in between words.

“Uh uh. Not here, sweetness,” he nudged you to your feet. “Come on. Pack up your stuff let’s get back to the dorm.”

Forgoing your usual organization, you shoved all of your study materials haphazardly into your backpack and slung it over your shoulder, blinking rapidly as you stood.

You were glad for the cold when you stepped outside of the library. It woke you up enough that you weren’t stumbling over your feet. Nevertheless, Steve took your hand, making sure to keep you on the inside of the sidewalk as you made the fifteen minute walk back to your dorm.

Unsurprisingly, there were a lot of people still awake as you made your way to the elevators. Some were cramming for exams while others were celebrating being done. You rolled your eyes at a group of particularly rambunctious fraternity pledges.

“So your room then?” he chuckled when you automatically pressed the button for your floor.

“Oh sorry. Did you want to go to yours?” you mumbled.

“No, it’s fine.”

“I just know Nat’s done with finals so she won’t be studying. She has an early-ish flight so she should be sleeping. But even if she’s still packing I’m tired enough to pass out with a strobe light,” you rambled.

Steve simply nodded.

You had just reached your door and were about to slot your key in when you heard a low grunt followed by a moan.

“Damn it,” you groaned.

“My room it is then.”

“Let’s go.”

You shuffled past the crowded common room back towards the stairs.

“Please tell I’m seeing things,” you almost cried.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he growled when he sported the sock on the door.

“Our friends suck.”

“Alright, come on. Let’s go to our spot at least then we’ll be close to the exam room.”

“Fine. Stupid horny roommates,” you grumbled under your breath.

You were relieved to find your usual study spot empty. Quickly shedding your hat, gloves, and parka, you flopped onto the sofa and pulled out your phone to set approximately thirty alarms for a mere three hours later.

Steve followed suit, settling for three alarms before slinging his arm around your shoulder and pulling his coat over the both of you.

“Good night, sweetness.”

You were already asleep.

“Come on, sweetness. Time to get up. The exam starts in an hour,” Steve murmured shaking you shoulder gently.

“Go away,” you groaned.

“No can do. But I have coffee to make you feel better.”

The smell of coffee started to penetrate your brain.

“Gimme,” you mumbled blindly reaching for the cup.

When you didn’t feel it in your hand and heard a low chuckle, you opened your eyes to glare at him.

“Gotta sit up for me.”

“You know you were a lot less annoying the last time I was sexiled.”

“And you were a lot nicer then. You called me cute. Maybe you were right about un-caffeinated y/n.”

You pulled yourself up into a sitting position as requested and Steve handed you the coffee. After two long pulls, you started to rejoin the land of the living.

“Thank you, handsome.”

“So I’ve been upgraded from cute to handsome. I’ll take it.”

You swatted at him weakly. “Can we take a nap after all this?”

“Absolutely.”

A few more sips and you were mostly awake, and you finally noticed the logo on the coffee cup. “Did you walk all the way back to the tower for this?”

“Nah, I guilted Bucky into bringing it since he sexiled us.”

“Ooh good call,” you commended.

“He apologizes by the way. Since we said we were going to sleep early, he assumed we were in your room.”

You hummed your acknowledgment, too tired to really care.

The two of you enjoyed a few quiet moments as you drank your coffee and the floors below started to fill up.

“We have less than three hours until we finish our first semester of college,” you remarked.

“That’s crazy. It’s been a hell of a semester.“

You patted Steve’s thigh absently.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Steve asked as he covered your hand with his.

“I’m just so glad Nat sexiled me that night.”

Steve’s smile was soft, almost lazy as he responded. “I am too.”

“I’m less glad she sexiled me last night. This couch killed my back.”

Steve chuckled low in your ear.

“I’ll fix it for you later.”

“My hero.”

You planted a quick peck on his lips before pushing yourself to your feet.

“Come on. I want to get my spot.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed! Two more parts to go. lots of fluff and fun.

Sexiled taglist is closed. All other tag lists are open.

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#Sexiled #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers #College!AU #college!steve rogers

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bigheartedsky · 5 years

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Lost Minds | Prologue

Pairings: BTS x OC

Genre: Demon AU, Angst, Romance

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Manipulation, eventually Violence, Psycho games

Summary: Waking up in a beautiful, princess-like bedroom sounds like a dream, right? For Lamia it was more of a nightmare not knowing where she is and how she got there. Who are those people that put her there and why can’t she remember anything? Why did they put her in this room and why was she wearing this awfully beautiful evening gown to bed…? Will she ever regain her memories?

a/n: The prologue is not that angsty yet but it will happen don’t worry. I promise! This is the first time in years that I’m uploading a story and the first time using Tumblr for this! I was very lost with all the functions and getting back into serious writing but the amazing @uwugalore helped me out so so so much and also worked as my beta reader for this! Thank her for being such an angel and helping out a Tumblr-newbie like me :)

Masterlist | Lost Minds Masterlist

Going ON to Chapter ONE~ (see what I did there?)

“And this years International Book Award in the category Thriller goes to…Lamia Moon! Congratulations!”

This was it.

The moment she’s been dreaming of and fearing at the same time. Walking up the stairs in her fancy dress - that she couldn’t breathe in - being the center of attention. Her heart was beating at the rate of a dragonfly flapping its wings. A sick but happy feeling was swelling up in the pit of her stomach making her feel like vomiting and jumping out of happiness at the same time. She couldn’t hide the big smile creeping on her face.

Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Don’t fall., She kept thinking to herself walking in heels for the first time since graduation.

Lamia has never been a public person.

She liked being lowkey - just writing at home by herself, drinking a cup of tea, listening to music and enjoying the time alone. Events like these always made her feel anxious and out of place. Like being a sunflower among roses. Not quite as beautiful but very loud in presence.

She felt like she disturbed the perfect picture just not being able to fit in quite right even if she tried to look like them. Her appearance then feeling more like an act - a mask if you will - hiding her true feelings of just wanting to run away from this place as fast as possible and hide from this world. Anxiety hitting her right in the stomach everytime.

She always preferred a good book over a party. Perhaps that’s why she ended up as a writer in the end and not as the police officer her dad would have loved for her to be and continue his legacy. He was never really a fan of her wanting to be a writer but seeing the way he looked at his daughter that moment - accepting her award and holding a short speech of appreciation towards him and everyone else that helped her along the way - he couldn’t have looked more proud.

The next day her picture was all over the news. She thought she looked awkward in every single one of them. Cringing at all the headers she read them out loud.

“Mysterious writer finally going public” – “Moons face reveal” – “Author of popular Thriller books finally showing her face”

Placing the newspaper on the table she scoffed in disbelief.

“Is it really THAT important what I look like? People seemed to buy my books just fine even without knowing my face so what’s all this hype about…?” She complained folding it. Her father takes it chuckling at her remarks and looks at the picture.

“I think you look quite beautiful. And don’t forget: most people are superficial. I wouldn’t be surprised if you sell even more books now.”

Lamia just rolled her eyes at him shaking her head with a smile.

“You have to say stuff like that. You’re my dad!”

This morning everything began. A letter arrived in the mail looking very unusual. Almost like it was straight out of Hogwarts with a wax seal and the address written in old-style handwriting.

She was intrigued.

They both made jokes about Lamia getting her Hogwarts letter a little bit too late. Being 28 years old and by far no student anymore.

She opened it way too curious to wait until she got to her home office. Inside was a handwritten letter in the same beautiful old-style handwriting like on the envelope. It read:

Dear Lamia Moon,

You’re hereby invited to attend the annual costume party hosted by BTS.

….

“BTS?”, she thought out loud. Her dad read the letter looking over her shoulder.

“Ohhh! Seems like now that you won an award you got an invitation too.”, he said rather impressed but highly displeased at the same time.

“What is this?”

He looked at her and sat down again. The atmosphere became heavier as if he was hiding something from her. He knew she wouldn’t just leave the topic alone. He knew if he wouldn’t tell her she would find out another way eventually.

This was one of his biggest fears - having her involved in this weird case. Because she would never give up until she found out everything involving the mysteries around it.

She was his daughter after all.

Knowing all this he tried to sound as uninterested and bored as possible hoping it would kill her curiosity.

“It’s pretty well-known amongst us at the police station. Every year after this party people make weird reports.”

“Weird reports? How so?”, she asked even more curious about it all.

She’s always been fascinated by weird cases her dad told her about. Many of them even used for her books, changing them enough to not cause any damage for her father or the people involved in them.

“Well… people report their friends or family members missing just to take those reports back shortly after - telling us it was just a dare or that the person showed up again and just got too drunk to find the way back home. All of them had friends that attended the party but in the end their reports were 9/10 times just a stupid dare or made too early. It’s actually not that unusual after such a huge party. We always put extra staff on duty for the day of the party and the one after. It’s really such a pain dealing with those kids.”

The police man seemed exhausted even talking about this. He obviously wasn’t a big fan of this party for his own reasons. Then he looked at his daughter and smiled but she was too deep in her own thoughts to notice.

“But that you got invited means you reached the level of success needed for them to notice you. That’s impressive, Mia. You really made it.”

His eyes were full of pride but it changed a second later to worry.

“If you decide to go there please take someone with you. And take your pepper spray, okay? I don’t trust all these successful, rich people. I would really prefer you not going...”

“People go missing you say?” She didn’t pay great attention to him ever since he told her about the reports.

He knew that.

He immediately noticed when something was just too tempting for her, Lamias curiosity winning over her sense of responsibility. Something about this whole party felt so wrong. Like there was more to the reports than just pranks or drunk people getting lost. She sensed the all too familiar feeling of inspiration swelling up inside of her. Her fingers already tingling with the desire to write her thoughts down. Heartbeat slowly increasing and indicating her growing excitement for this story.

This could make a great new story. Why does it have to be a party though…? I feel anxious just thinking about it. I should take a look at that party for research still. They say to wear a mask anyways. Like an old costume party, huh? Well, even if there’s actually really nothing weird going on, taking a look for research can’t hurt. I’m just way too intrigued by this. And seriously…what could possibly go wrong?

Going ON to Chapter ONE~ (doesn’t rhyme 100% but oh well)

Lost Minds Masterlist | Masterlist

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dinnersanddreams · 3 years

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Ispahan Yule Log: Bûche Ispahan

Christmas is in three days, this Friday. I suspect you know that already, but I’d like to state the obvious, in case you didn’t notice today’s date or forgot in the frenzy of the season. It’s easy to lose focus when we have so much craziness around.

I hope I’m sounding excited because I really am. I made a jaw-dropping, eye-catching, sense-rejuvenating Yule log adapted from a recipe by the one and only, best of the best Pierre Hermé.

I was introduced to Pierre Hermé by my sister-in-law, Lamia, three years ago. She owns a cookbook of his that she treasures like her dessert bible. I love Lamia—she’s so sweet.

I must say I envy her a little for her agility and ability in the kitchen. She makes you so jealous and resentful by always making perfectly perfect desserts.

But then she feeds them to you, and you love her all over again. Ah, those tartes aux amandes and fondants au chocolat of hers…Mon Dieu, mon Dieu!

When I looked at Hermé’s bûches de Noël, he had recipes of every kind. I’m used to the chocolate and vanilla bûches available at every pâtisserie during this season in Morocco.

My mother never made one. We either bought it or received it as a present. Moroccans—for the most part—don’t celebrate Christmas but decorate stores and restaurants for the season.

People exchange Christmas-looking cards (with evergreens, ornaments, candles…) that say “Bonnes Fêtes” or “Bonne Année” instead of Merry Christmas.

Some people even go out to dinner or a party on Christmas Eve, but it’s a mindless celebration—just another occasion to have fun.

Amid Hermé’s panoply of mouth-watering bûche recipes, I liked the rose, raspberry, and lychee one. I couldn’t find fresh or canned lychees anywhere near where I live, so I substituted canned Bartlett pears, which worked beautifully.

I thought the fruity pink filling and topping would brighten up my table in the middle of the winter and taste delightfully light after a meal.

It reminds me of the gâteau roulé au citron I ate and loved as a child, which is just as playful.

You’ll be surprised by the lightness of the génoise and raspberry ricotta which I liked much better than the original buttercream in the recipe.

P.S. The pictures really don’t do justice to how wonderful this Yule log tastes (I will redo them as soon as I can.)

Bûche de Noël with Raspberries, Rose and Pears

6 to 8 servings

For the génoise (cake)

2/3 cup sugar

4 eggs, yolks, and whites separated

2/3 cup all-purpose flour

For the filling

8 ounces part-skim milk ricotta

5 ounces fresh raspberries, plus more for garnish

2 tablespoons sugar

1 teaspoon rose water

1 (15-ounce) can Bartlett pears in light syrup (or lychees, preferably)

For the syrup

Syrup from the can of pears

1 teaspoon rose water

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line a 8×10 pan with parchment paper.

Beat the sugar with the egg yolks in a medium mixing bowl until frothy. Gently whisk in the flour.

Beat the egg whites to soft peaks and fold them into the egg yolk, sugar and flour mixture.

Transfer to the prepared pan and bake for 10 to 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, place the ricotta, raspberries, sugar, and rose water in the bowl of a food processor and reduce to a purée. Set aside.

When the cake is cooked, unmold it onto a damp towel, remove the parchment paper and roll the cake immediately with the towel.

Let it cool that way, about 20 minutes. Place the pears on a cutting board and dice them. Pour the syrup into a small saucepan, add the rose water, and heat it over low heat for about 5 minutes.

Unroll the cake and remove the towel. Brush the cake lightly with the syrup, spread half of the raspberry ricotta inside the cake, and top with diced pears.

Gently roll the cake, cover it with raspberry ricotta, and cut off the ends. Garnish with raspberries and refrigerate for an hour before serving.

source https://www.dinnersanddreams.net/ispahan-yule-log-buche-ispahan/

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onenightandgone · 7 years

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Sanctification - Part 2

Chanyeol x Reader Demon Hunter!AU 4.2k Angst, smut, and eventual violence (18+)

Chanyeol leaned his hips on the counter as he spread the contents of the file out on the counter. He placed several graphic photographs together on one side, a thin stack of newspaper clippings on the other. He scanned quickly over everything before starting with the newspaper articles.

‘Let me know when you think you know what it is,’ Junmyeon said. He left Chanyeol to his business before turning to you. ‘So what do you shoot?’

‘Sorry?’ you said. You glanced at Chanyeol, but he was immersed in the information in front of him.

‘Your weapon of choice,’ said Junmyeon. He moved towards the rack of rifles in the far corner. ‘What is it?’

You nudged Chanyeol before following Junmyeon. You stood beside him and held up your clenched fists.

‘These bad boys right here.’

Junmyeon looked skeptically at your bandaged hand.

‘He hasn’t taught you to shoot, has he?’ He ignored your attempt at humour.

‘He takes good care of me,’ you said, countering.

‘Chanyeol, why haven’t you taught her to shoot?’ Junmyeon raised his voice to be heard across the room.

‘I protect her, that’s why. And you aren’t teaching her either,’ Chanyeol said. He didn’t look up from his work.

‘Clearly, that worked out so well last time,’ Junmyeon said quietly. He brushed aside Chanyeol and turned his attention back to you. ‘Pick something that draws you.’

You crossed your arms and looked critically at the obscenely neat gun rack in front of you. You reached toward a sharp-looking shotgun with chrome accents.

‘Not a shotgun,’ called Chanyeol. The tone of authority was clear and unmistakable even from across the room.

You huffed and stepped back irritably.

Junmyeon rolled his eyes, but nodded for you to continue looking.

You scanned until a simple dark hardwood bolt action rifle stood out. You made your way over and took it down carefully, turning to Junmyeon for approval.

‘Not a bad choice. She’s got a lot of bite,’ he said.

‘So do I,’ you said. You met his gaze with a defiant stare.

Junmyeon froze and smiled. He coaxed your hands into position to hold it properly. The stock pressed against the front ridge of your shoulder, pointing the firing end out.

‘I believe it,’ he said. ‘We’ll shoot target practice tomorrow; let you get used to her.’

‘Him.’

‘What?’ A look of amused surprise lit his face.

‘This rifle,’ you said. ‘He told me his name is Bernard.’

‘I’ve got it!’ called Chanyeol.

‘Alright,’ Junmyeon said. He fought off a chuckle. ‘Bring Bernard over to the table and get to know him while we go over things.’ He motioned for you to follow.

‘Let me see,’ Chanyeol said as you approached. He held out an arm for you to scoot under, gathering you to his side.

Chanyeol inspected the rifle for a moment, bringing the barrel closer to himself, then ran a hand through his hair tiredly. He looked at Junmyeon in a certain way, and you knew you weren’t going to be allowed to keep it.

You glanced at the bronzed barrel for the first time yourself. You noticed the outline of a set of scales had been flawlessly etched into the steel. What was that, a gunsmith’s signature? You traced it curiously.

‘Someone just learning to shoot doesn’t need a 30-odd-6,’ he said. ‘Especially with her hand the way it is. Find her a lower calibre.’

Junmyeon shook his head.

‘Worst case scenario, she dislocates her shoulder,’ he shrugged. ‘She’ll be fine. She told me so herself.’

‘Yeah, Chanyeol, I’ll be fine,’ you said, chiming in.

‘You’re going to rip your stitches open,’ Chanyeol said to you. He gently pulled the rifle from your grasp and set it out of the way against the wall. ‘It’s been a long day,’ he said quietly. ‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow.’

You climbed onto the stool at the table and sighed. Sometimes the way Chanyeol looked after you made you feel like a child. It wore on you.

Chanyeol rubbed your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you before leading back to the file on the table.

‘I know what this is,’ he said. ‘But I’m guessing that you already do too.’

You reached for one of the newspaper clippings, but it was barely an inch from your fingertip.

Chanyeol easily grabbed it and handed it to you.

‘Thanks,’ you whispered.

‘I’ve never seen one on this side of the world,’ Junmyeon said. ‘I was hoping that it would something else – anything else.’

‘Four Missing Children Found Dead Days Later’ read the headline. The other articles had similar grim outcomes involving multiple children disappearing and turning up deceased. In several of the cases, the charges had been laid against the mothers with investigators deciding that they had suffered from some mental lapse and tried to hide what they had done.

‘These are all in the Midwest,’ you said, noting aloud. ‘It’s the same thing killing all these kids?’

Chanyeol nodded.

‘They’re also all single mothers,’ said Junmyeon. ‘That’s the only thing these families had in common.’

Chanyeol pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed out a word before handing it to you. He settled with his arm over your back as he read over your shoulder.

‘”Lamia,”’ you read. ‘“The ancient Greek tale in which a Queen of Libya of the same name was forced to watch her own children be slaughtered by the jealous Hera. After such tribulation, she was cursed to become a demon roaming the world. Her incredible hunger could only be satiated by the souls of young children, which she devoured with much sorrow and mourning. Each meal was but a grim reminder of the fruit of her own womb, forever lost to her.”’

‘Good,’ Junmyeon said to Chanyeol. ‘I knew you still had it in you.’

‘Wait, this is the Lamia?’ you said. ‘The queen herself?’

‘This is a lamia,’ Chanyeol said. ‘They were recognized in early European culture as being individual monsters. More than a legend.’

‘Where do they come from then?’ You had a lot of questions, and you had decided to not be shy about asking them.

‘They’re still created by a curse,’ Chanyeol said. ‘Under the right conditions, if children are slain in front of their mother, that woman can be turned from human to demon. Now the question is how we find this one.’

You looked at the date of the latest newspaper article. It was over three weeks ago.

‘There’s no way to anticipate its movement. Disappearances are too common to pinpoint which one is because of the monster. We have to wait to be sure,’ Junmyeon said.

The arm over your shoulder tensed.

‘I know you don’t like it, Chanyeol, but there’s no other way to find her.’

You turned to look up at him, and you wished you hadn’t. You placed a hand on his chest reassuringly as you saw the grave expression.

‘I know there isn’t,’ he said.

‘What do you mean? What are we waiting for?’ you asked. Another thing to regret.

‘The only way to find her is to wait for her to kill again,’ Chanyeol said. The look of disgust was evident on his face. ‘It’s not fair.’

The colour drained from your face as you realized what that meant. More children would have to die before you could stop the thing that was killing them.

‘So we keep an eye on the news, anything from search and rescue, look for anything that fits the profile,’ Junmyeon said. ‘They’ll be her last.’

He began gathering the material spread out on the table and putting it neatly back into the folder.

‘I’m guessing you know how to kill her?’ you said.

He smiled and kissed the top of your forehead.

‘We’ll take care of her. You can just focus on healing,’ he said.

You straightened and crossed your arms.

‘That sounds awfully like you’re saying I have to wait here while you go get to have fun and kill baddies.’ Your temper flared dangerously.

Junmyeon raised an eyebrow and wandered out of the room silently. It was a prudent choice as Chanyeol put a hand on either of your shoulders and looked down at you.

‘It’s not fun out there, and that’s the first thing you have to understand – hell, you should already understand that. Every time I’m out there is a risk, and you’re not something that I’m willing to gamble. It would be like holding raw meat in front of a wolf and asking it nicely not to eat it.’

You stood quickly, nostrils flaring.

‘I’m not a piece of meat, Chanyeol! I know how to handle myself, and I’m more capable than you can imagine.’ You glared up at him defiantly before stomping up the stairs.

He followed two steps behind, but didn’t try to stop you. Chanyeol was still there when you burst through your bedroom door. He calmly closed it behind him, looking at you stoically. Chanyeol had made up his mind. He took a step closer and reached for your wrist.

You wrenched out of his grasp and backed away from him, still glaring unapologetically.

‘Believe me,’ Chanyeol said with a sigh. ‘I know how capable you are. You’re incredible – you can do anything you set your mind to.’

His words held your attention long enough for him to take hold of your shoulder. He had you now; letting go was not one of his talents.

‘Anything?’ you said.

‘Anything,’ he nodded. He leaned down and stole a kiss before you could protest. ‘Except go hunting with me.’

‘Dammit, Chanyeol!’ You ripped yourself away from him, perching on the foot of the bed. ‘Why not?’

‘I’ve told you why. I almost lost you, I’m not going through that again. You’re staying here.’

‘I could help you!’ Your voice started to gain volume as you grew more exasperated. ‘Junmyeon is going to be there too, so I’ll have two of you watching my back! You couldn’t ask for better circumstances for my first hunt.’

‘Your first hunt.’ Chanyeol grimaced at the words. He towered over you where you sat, reaching down with large hands to cup your face. ‘Is not this one. You’re not ready.’

‘I’m not ready or you’re not ready?’

Chanyeol snorted sarcastically. He bent farther down to face you.

‘Both. I’m tired of talking about this,’ he said. The limits of his patience were being tested.

You rose to your knees in front of him, offering your lips temptingly.

‘We’ll talk again when my hand heals,’ you said.

Chanyeol nodded and leaned closer.

‘I can still learn to shoot until then.’

His only reply was a loud groan before he bridged the distance between you. Chanyeol tried to kiss you passionately, his hands on your body roaming down your back and upper thighs, but you could virtually taste the exhaustion in his mouth.

You pushed Chanyeol away with a firm shove on his chest. He came away reluctantly, and sighed in protest.

‘You should get to sleep,’ you said. You combed his hair back up over his head gently.

The two of you had been driving all day, and life on the road tended to wear on both your body and soul. The grind itself seemed to push Chanyeol down onto the bed, letting go of all tension and flopping onto the covers. He yawned wide as he finally seemed to relax.

You left him in peace to find your shower things and hit the hot water. Your back complained from having fallen asleep against the door handle of the truck for hours, and your knees hadn’t fared much better.

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Were you getting too old for this? You shook your head and undressed quickly, eagerly submersing yourself underneath the raining jet of the glass shower.

The cut stung only slightly less than it did that morning, but the heat and steam still did their jobs noticeably well, relaxing you. You lingered there as long as you could before drying off and getting the gauze and pins to redo the bandage on your hand.

With one of Chanyeol’s huge t-shirts draping over your body, you climbed onto the bed next to him. You dropped the roll of gauze, fresh bandage and pins next to him, poking his side.

‘Do my hand,’ you said. You held it out expectantly.

‘I already did,’ he sighed. His eyes closed in the act of sleep.

‘Really?’ You stared at him with a silent, unmoving frame.

It was a battle he was never destined to win, and Chanyeol sat up with a groan. He half-grinned as he took your hand. His larger ones cradled it easily, and he ran a thumb over the stitches on your palm.

‘This is why I don’t want you hunting,’ he said quietly.

‘It’s just a cut! It barely even hurts anymore,’ you said.

Chanyeol pressed lightly, his eyes flying up to gage your reaction.

You bit the inside of your lip, holding fast to the hiss of pain that hid there. You weren’t going to make a sound. You were determined.

He increased the pressure a fraction.

You stared blankly resolute.

‘You’re really going to try to hurt me to prove a point?’ you said, before he could press any harder.

Chanyeol softened, his eyes rounding into pleas.

‘I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you under my watch. Looking at this,’ he said, lowering his gaze to your wound. ‘Every time is a reminder of what I could have done better – what I could have stopped from happening to you.’ The tears glistened in the corners of his eyes.

You reached for him instinctively.

‘It’s o-‘

‘Don’t tell me that it’s okay!’ Chanyeol said. A dangerous flash of anger sparked in his features. ‘Nothing about what happened was okay! I let my guard down, I assumed you would be safe where I left you – it was all my fault!’

The words were swept from your throat. You could only stare at him in shock.

Chanyeol exposed his heart, ridden with guilt at the very core. What could you say that could take that away? You puzzled over how to help him. Never once did you blame him for what had happened in that dungeon. Your own heart strained in your chest as you begged the universe to take the burden from his shoulders and place it on your own.

‘I don’t see mistakes,’ you said. You tried to mask the sob pinching at your voice. You pulled your hand from his and spread it palm up. ‘I look at this, and all I can think about is that you loved me enough to rescue me. This is my tattoo to remind me that I have my own personal superhero.’ You guided his gaze to yours and smiled at him, in spite of the tears that threatened.

The embrace that followed conveyed more than words could say as Chanyeol crushed you against his chest.

His arms surrounding you tightly flooded you with a deep sense of security. You simply stayed, memorizing the rhythm of his heart, the flutter of his breath in your hair. An unmoving sense of peace closed your eyes, your fingers tracing an irregular pattern on the other side of his chest.

After a few moments, Chanyeol stirred only to pull back enough to bring his face to yours. He held you in place, every emotion evident in the slow motions of his affection. When the kiss broke, he stayed where he was, keeping you tightly against him, his forehead against yours.

His gaze kept steady and direct, but when he closed in again, the taste and pace had changed.

An edge of thirst had taken the place of your sadness, and you raked measured hands through his hair. You broke the kiss once more as you adjusted onto your knees in front of him, your eyes never leaving his. Your touch wandered down his back.

Chanyeol needed no further instruction, and heated palms took hold of the inside of your thighs from the back. He guided you firmly over his lap. Another kiss ignited a strain of need as Chanyeol slid his hands underneath the oversize t-shirt you had tried to pawn off as pyjamas.

Your thighs burned under his touch, and you whined against his wide lips. You tugged at his shirt to try to coax it off.

Chanyeol pulled away, and a look of smoldering mischief took its place on his features. At first he acquiesced, ridding himself of the faded black shirt he had been wearing. It hadn’t hit the floor before he set to his next goal.

He gathered your shirt and held it in a tightly knotted fistful at your back, exposing you from the waist down. Without pause, his large fingers slipped into the moisture at your center. Your teeth bit back a whimper as he circled purposefully. His lips laid a gentle trail of sensation down your neck to accompany the play between your legs.

‘Please.’ The word left your mouth before you could muscle it away, and he looked up sharply.

A soft grin took over his features, and you knew you had lost.

‘Don’t worry,’ Chanyeol breathed out a pool of steam against the corner of your jaw. ‘I’ll take good care of you.’ Two fingers filled you without warning, the sudden stretch making you gasp. A soft moan seemed to float out from you as he pushed them in and returned them slowly.

You grabbed onto his shoulders as he increased in pace, and the urgency between your legs radiated exponentially in response. He didn’t stop until you began to shudder, your voice one long melody of pleasure as the tiny explosion began to muster in force.

You whined in lament as Chanyeol pulled out; he peeled the shirt up and over your head. He explored, caressing and stroking as he made his way back down slowly. He paused to bring his lips to yours in another kiss.

Chanyeol fumbled and rustled beneath you while he occupied you with his tongue. Soon he had found himself in the tangle of his jeans, and heat from his mouth was nothing compared to the heat that presented itself to your centre.

Time melted and flowed in his arms as he filled you, as you shared sweat and exchanged moans. He pulled cries of pleasure from your throat, and you were slammed down onto him, almost bouncing off his thighs.

Chanyeol groaned lowly, his head thrown back. His hands became vices on your hips, a grip that you guided in a slow, repeating circle. He cursed under his breath. You continued the teasing pace until he brought his head back to center and looked at you dangerously.

You let out a curse of your own as you suddenly found yourself on your back.

Chanyeol plowed forward between your legs unforgivingly. He grunted loudly into your neck, his shoulders rippling with the effort of his labour.

You shook as the waves of pleasure grew larger every time he dove deeply into your core. Your thighs trembled and the violent friction took over all of you, your body dominated. With a heavy final push, you cascaded over the edge, shaking and crying only for him.

Your sudden tightness around him proved too much, soon Chanyeol followed with his own release deep inside you. His moans fell like lush velvet over you, calling your name as he came.

He tumbled down over you, spent, but still revolving around the physical affection you exchanged. He whispered low ‘I love you’s in your ear while you both came down from your highs, his length pulsing a brilliant heat even while he retreated and fell to your side.

Chanyeol dutifully cocooned the covers around you both, gathering you against the expanse of his chest. He kissed your forehead between intervals of tracing your forearm draped across his torso.

‘I love you,’ he said in a hushed whisper. One more time for good measure. ‘I hope you know that.’

‘I know. I love you too.’ You pressed a tender kiss over his heart.

Chanyeol sighed, his thumb circling on the ridge of your shoulder as he held you tightly.

Tiredness pulled at the edges of your mind, but your thoughts kept you too preoccupied to allow yourself to sink into sleep. You wandered to the four long perpendicular scars that tore diagonally down the side of his lower abdomen. You traced them, wondering at their origin and how deep the wounds must have been to leave behind such grim reminders of the pain that once existed there.

‘You never told me how you got these,’ you said absently.

‘My first hunt,’ said Chanyeol. His hand with yours covered his side, the future scar on your palm meeting the healed wound of his past, small badges of what his lifestyle could do. Of what it could take away.

‘What happened?’

He paused before answering, but the light smile was clear in his voice as he spoke.

‘I was young and cocky. I went off on my own, thinking that I could handle things on my own. It found me before I could even get a shot off. I was lucky.’

He wasn’t going to tell you more.

‘I’m already lucky,’ you said. You nestled against him, tucking your arm around his side.

Chanyeol kissed your forehead sweetly.

‘Trust me,’ he said. ‘You aren’t the lucky one in this situation. Now go to sleep.’

You sighed resentfully, but still your thoughts were full of the love you had made, of all your favourite parts of Chanyeol, even as the dark peace of sleep took you.

Morning came way too soon.

You were halfway to consciousness in the dimmed sunlight spilling through the bedroom window. You had almost forgotten where you were, but unfamiliarity had become the new constant in your life and you had become accustomed to the question.

A freshly showered Chanyeol pulled you the remaining distance to the surface and woke you with a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You let him pull you up to sitting, but collapsed against his chest.

‘Did I finally wear you out?’ he said. The amusement in his voice rubbed you the wrong way. ‘Are you going to be too tired for quality time with Bernard?’

Your eyes flew open at the mention.

‘Are you serious? You’re going to let me shoot?’ You couldn’t believe it, and the tone of surprise was difficult to mask.

‘Only if I’m teaching you,’ he said. ‘It’s not that I don’t trust Junmyeon, I just don’t trust him with you and a rifle.’

Chanyeol lowered to kiss you softly, pulling a sigh from your lips.

‘You need to shower,’ he said. He wrinkled his nose as he withdrew.

‘But I smell like you,’ you whined and nestled against Chanyeol even more deeply, much to his chagrin.

‘That’s not one of my better smells. Let’s go,’ he insisted.

You dragged yourself sluggishly to the shower before you got ready and met Chanyeol and Junmyeon in the kitchen.

Breakfast had been spread out on the bar-like island. It was an unusual sight, and you weren’t used to eating something that hadn’t come from a restaurant or a convenience store. Your stomach turned at the size of it.

Chanyeol waved you over to him and shoveled eggs onto your plate.

You rolled your eyes and picked up a fork.

Junmyeon hid behind his newspaper silently.

‘Anything new?’ asked Chanyeol.

‘Nothing. A few disappearances, but nothing that we can pinpoint without a resulting death,’ Junmyeon said. ‘Still waiting.’

He folded the newspaper and crossed his arms over his chest, glancing back and forth between Chanyeol and you.

‘The targets are set up out back. You pay for any damage to my house,’ Junmyeon said simply. ‘Bernard’s still downstairs.’

You grinned at Chanyeol, who took his turn to roll his eyes.

An hour later, you found yourself at Junmyeon’s homemade shooting range in the large backyard.

Chanyeol stood to the side as you raised your firearm and squinted down the top centre sight of the barrel. The tall paper target stirred in the slight breeze where it hung from the tall willow tree.

You tucked the stock against your shoulder tightly. You set your jaw firmly and pulled the trigger, bracing as the bullet tore from the muzzle in a loud bang. A small hole exploded close to the middle of the target.

‘There!’ yelled Chanyeol. Your ears still rang with the sound of the shot. ‘That was perfect! Are you sure you haven’t done this before?’

You nodded and smiled. You felt powerful, even in spite of the dull ache in your palm from the recoil. The weapon in your hands felt right, like you had been holding it your whole life.

‘Try it again,’ said Chanyeol.

You didn’t hesitate, chambering another round. You shouldered the rifle and fired. A matching hole punctured the target an inch below the first one. You stood back to admire the shot, glancing at Chanyeol with a grin.

‘I think we found our new sniper,’ Junmyeon said, suddenly appearing behind you.

You grinned wider.

Chanyeol opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out.

‘And just in time too,’ continued Junmyeon. ‘The call just came in - the remains of three missing children were found the next state over. We found her.’

Part 1 | Part 2 |

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inkmachine7 · 1 year

Note

I stared at Cuphead's character sheet for a min before realizing I'm taller than him, hes 6'1.2 and I'm 6'5

Speaking of which, what would the Cupheads (Any or all) think of an anon who was taller than them?

#Ask #Art #Lamia #The Lamia cups #our last card au #casino's king

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cucarachaisgay07 · 1 year

Text

Just found out about the Lamia cup au! It's amazing!! :D

This is not my au all credit goes to @inkmachine7 I just got bored so I drew these lil snake boissss

🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

What is happening in the drawing? Mugman wakes cup up so he can take a nap with him as well, Idk none of this makes sense I just wanted an excuse to draw the snake boisss 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

#the Lamia cups #Lamia cups #babtqftim #cuphead #mugman #babtqftim au #not my au

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coleymari-blog · 7 years

Text

Cyber Space is Always Sweeter : Chapter 3

Summary: Lucy is a down to Earth, studious, responsible runaway attending Magnolia College. Natsu is a rambunctious, intelligent, pyrophilic fraternity boy going to the same school. They don’t exactly run in the same circles and they have one hell of a history. What happens when the names and facades disappear and all that’s left are words blinking on a screen? Modern day, College/Pen Pals AU. I’m sorry I suck at intros. Rated M for Language, Adult Situations, and future sexual situations.

Chapters 1 | 2

Just five more minutes 'til freedom.

Natsu was almost ready to erupt from his seat. As much as he didn't mind being a Teacher's Assistant for Makarov, he was itching to get to the party. He knew the rest of the brothers would be pre-gaming while the old geezer was still rattling on about the importance of utilizing his office hours (especially if they were a cute, barely legal co-ed, but they didn't really talk about that). Every other professor let out early on the first day of classes, but the grad student should have known better than to expect that from Makarov. He watched the clock on the wall tick down to 7pm and his alarm was a room full of college sophomores running towards their own escape.

After checking in, and being lectured again on 'being late', Natsu took off towards the Fairy Tail house like a bat out of Hell. He knew he could have taken the campus trolley, but with his motion sickness? He wasn't that desperate to make it home. Knowing he could shave a couple minutes off the run, the pinkette made a mad dash through the bottom floor of the library, colliding with a caffeine-wired senior who chewed him out for sending his work flying across the carpet. He helped clean up the mess, apologizing for the struggle. The time he'd saved on the shortcut he'd ended up spending twice as long dealing with the consequences. Story of his life.

Natsu was running up the fraternity house’s front steps when he could hear the mayhem that was already ensuing. The block hadn’t opened up yet, all the front doors to all the houses still being closed. The Row was set up in more of a horseshoe really, with Fairy Tail anchoring one end and Sabretooth on the other. Honestly, they were probably doing the same exact thing as his brothers were doing, preparing. His cheshire grin was ear to ear when he burst through the door and was immediately greeted by raucous laughter and a fresh can of beer. Everyone was already on a decent buzz, Gray challenging Loke to shots off the bar, Laxus and Bickslow were currently racing against Gajeel and Romeo in their own game of Flip Cup, everyone seemed to be gearing up for a fantastic night.

“Yo! Flame Brain!” Gray called out, shaking his head after his most recent shot, Loke bending over the bar groaning quietly. “Did you bring the provisions?” Natsu made his way over and immediately dropped the glass bottle on the table, cracking it open at the same time. Luckily he’d been able to go off campus to procure it between his seminar and his last stint in Hell. If he hadn’t, Gray probably would have killed him. It was a time-honored tradition between the two of them, Loke sometimes if he was on their good side at the time.

“Calm your tits, Ice Dick,” Natsu replied, grabbing two glasses and pouring about two fingers worth for the both of them. They knocked it back with practiced skill and went for round two without a second thought. The raven-haired man dropped the bottle behind the bar on the ‘Brother’s Only’ shelf. Hopefully, the sacredness of the shelf would keep their semi-private bottle safe. They both knew the only exceptions were dates or pledge brothers.

Before long, there was shouting from the street outside the house indicating the beginning of the block party. Reedus, being closest to the door, was commanded to open theirs so that people knew they were participating. Luckily this wasn’t a campus-wide event so it was limited to other greeks and their dates, meaning way less foot traffic through the house. As far as atmosphere, Fairy Tail had decided to go with a casual bar feel with popular dance music. Mermaid Heel was doing a “Slow and Sexy” party, playing nothing but sensual, partnered kind of music. Lamia Scale was utilizing all their party lights and had two rivaling Techno DJs, one inside their house and one on the front lawn to supply the block with music as well. Quattro Cerberus went absolutely wild, Natsu able to hear them while he was running home. From what he could tell, they were playing nothing but energizing music and supplying copious amounts of booze. Sabertooth was throwing a costume party, each of them dressed in all sorts of elaborate (or scandalous) outfits. Blue Pegasus chose a much more elegant theme, their members all dressed to the nines like they were straight out of a movie premier. Lily Heart had thrown a bubble party, their house and lawn covered in technicolor foam. The other, smaller, organizations were throwing smaller parties but all in all, there were twelve houses opened up and ready for party goers.

A couple hours of passed by and Natsu was ready to give the other houses a shot, especially after Gray had found his company for the evening in a woman with striking blue hair, continuously referring to herself in the third person. A few minutes of that mess and Natsu was ready to pull his salmon hair out by the roots. He was on his way out when he ran into Gajeel and his girlfriend, Levi or something. Unfortunately, he was also greeted by a familiar blonde who was already trying to run away.

Grinning to himself, rubbing the back of his neck, Natsu looked down at her and tried to ease the ever-mounting tension. “Hey, aren’t you that Lily Heart girl?"

Gods the library could be boring at night.

The afternoon had flown by as Lucy worked the book depository, filing them into different categories before making her rounds of the floors to return them to their rightful place. Unlike some of the others, she actually enjoyed the busy work. She loved losing herself in the stacks, her earbuds firmly lodged in her ears as she listened to her rather eclectic playlists. She’d even managed to find a couple of spots that she knew would be good studying spots for her and Levy.

The freshman had been enjoying herself so thoroughly that she didn’t realize it was time to switch over to her front desk shift until she heard her name over the library PA system. The only downside to that task was the fact that she couldn’t listen to her music. However, she was allowed to work on her homework which was a huge plus. It was almost like getting paid to study! Granted, after paying for her school expenses, she only received about five dollars an hour but it was still more than nothing. She’d heard of other on-campus jobs, like the Catering team, and had made a mental note to check it out when she had the time. Her Chemistry class already had homework so she began that while sitting at the desk, answering the random people that would appear before her.

It was about five minutes until the library was supposed to close when it happened. In he ran like a pink blur, immediately colliding with one of the students that had been glued to his seat for the past couple of hours before finally heading home. Lucy couldn't help but giggle as Natsu got told off but nonetheless watched as he helped clean up the mess he’d caused. She couldn’t help but smile softly at the nice action. And just as quickly as he’d appeared, the frat boy was gone.

Lucy shut down her laptop, cleaned up the desk, and put the ‘Closed’ sign out on the desktop before heading out with the rest of the library staff. She sighed remembering that Levy had wanted to go to that Greek Row party. Both she and her new boyfriend were affiliated somewhere and Lucy shuddered at her memories of her own attempt at joining the brainless automatons. She was glad things hadn’t worked out...right? All she’d wished is that things had ended way differently.

The blonde, upon reaching her dorm, texted her friend and agreed to go out that night. She immediately went to her bag (as she hadn’t fully unpacked yet) and pulled out some of the hottest clothes she had. They were some things that her ex-stylist Aquarius had picked up for her when she’d first gotten accepted to M.C., causing the girl to smile at the memory of the mostly-vile woman. While she missed her life back in Crocus, the life of an heiress, Lucy was beyond grateful for her independence. It hadn’t all be sunshine and flowers but she could definitely say she had learned a thing or two about more than just school.

After about an hour and a half, with one last text message and a final application of lipstick, Lucy felt ready to take on the world. She was ready to face the people that had been so very cruel to her and show them that they hadn’t broken her down. Part of her wished to run into Minerva and her minions but a majority wanted to avoid her like the plague. Her phone made a soft, twinkling, bell-like sound to indicate Levy’s alert that she and Gajeel had arrived outside her dorm to drive her to the party.

It wasn’t a long drive but it felt like an eternity while the freshman grew more anxious in the backseat. She remembered something that Master Scorpio had told her once, that even if she was afraid that she was never to show fear. She was to funnel whatever energy it was into her attack. This was no different. A drink at the six major houses and she’d head back to her dorm. She’d start with Fairy Tail and make her way to Sabertooth where she was already friends with one of the brothers. Plus, she figured it’d be nice to see Sting if he wasn’t “otherwise occupied”. Once they parked Gajeel’s Mustang in the parking lot of Fairy Tail, the three of them walked inside, only to be met by none other than Natsu Dragneel himself. It certainly didn’t help the situation when he brought them up.

“No, I’m not affiliated with those girls,” Lucy hissed, her grip tightening on her handbag. Flashbacks of the party kept swirling in her head, the worst ones causing her heart to race uncontrollably. “Apparently I wasn’t their brand of ‘witch’”. That earned her a glare from Levy and a grin from Gajeel. He liked the blondie, she definitely had spunk.

Natsu sputtered, the alcohol obvious on his breath. “I- uh--” he murmured, grabbing a shot from a passing tray and downing it swiftly. “Sorry, had no idea. I just remembered that you and Minerva used to hang. My bad.”

The fact that he even insinuated that he didn’t remember what else that had transpired between them before drove Lucy crazy inside. With a huff, she apologized to Levy and broke away from the group, making her way to the bar. She didn’t even look back, she just focused on the prize, hoping she’d have the strength to make it to the other five houses.

#nalu fanfic #nalu fic #ftfanfics #ft fanfiction #nalu #let me know what you think y'all #:d #cyber space is always sweeter #;csias

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hekate1308 · 7 years

Text

Routine

More Season 12 AU because I can’t stop myself. More Destiel in this one, I swear!

Now that he doesn’t have to worry about the Men of Letters wiping out the Win – wiping out his friends, Crowley can actually relax in his room.

It actually feels kind of nice to just let go. He knows it’s the spell, but he’s safe now. Dean has seen to that.

And Dr. Hess was dumb enough not to take any precaution in case he got found out and captured. Didn’t think they, or more specifically Dean, had it in him.

How wrong she was.

He’s lying on his bed, eyes closed, imagining what he’ll do to every single member of the Men of Letters when he’s free, hearing their screams, almost feeling their blood run over his hands, when Dean knocks at the door.

“Crowley? You decent?”

“Yes. Don’t be too disappointed”.

Dean opens the door.

A gasp leads Crowley to open his eyes.

He actually looks pale.

“Jesus, Crowley, you know you don’t need to breathe. I almost had a heart attack.”

Oh. Right.

That’s what you get for mediating.

“Anyway, here”.

Dean holds up a bottle of Craig.

“Thought you might as well enjoy yourself.”

“So you’re going to bring in Hess and my mother on a rag?”

He chuckles.

“Might be a bit impractical. How are you doing?”

“Much better than before” Crowley replies, honestly. He might be locked up, but he was doing way more harm when he wasn’t.

“Still... You hated it the last time.”

“The last time I was in a dungeon in the bunker. This is luxury compared to that.”

Dean nods.

“Call if you need anything, alright?”

It soon turns out he doesn’t have to. Every occupant of the mansion checks on him at least once a day.

Cas, who seems to have come to the conclusion that life without caffeine isn’t worth living, brings him a cup of coffee each morning.

“We’re working on the spell” he tells him every day without fail, “We’re going to break it.”

Oh, Cassie. If anyone knows what it feels like to be controlled, it’s him.

“I know. Just tell Squirrel to take a break, will you? He looked pretty run down yesterday.”

“He’s sleeping in today” he tells him firmly. Crowley grins. He can imagine that discussion.

“How does it feel?” Cas asks.

He shrugs.

“Not that bad, really. Things are usually easier when free will is not involved.”

“Yes, but not better.”

“Never that, feathers. Never that.”

Sam is... a bit of a surprise, really. He’s warmed up to him considerably, but Crowley still didn’t expect him to seek his company when he’s confined to his room.

“Does that look like a lamia attack to you?”

Typical of Moose. Always needing a reason to come talk to someone. Not like Dean, who simply spends time with people because he wants to.

“No idea. Did you show it to Dean?”

“Of course. He doesn’t know either.”

It didn’t use to be “of course” but Crowley doesn’t mention it.

Even Mick visits him regularly.

The former man of Letters is usually polite and concise, “Sorry but I don’t want you to learn anything that can harm us”, as he explained.

Crowley can see why he was the only piece on the board smart enough to leave their little killer club.

The point is that even locked into a giant trap he is as much part of life in the mansion as he was before. Except that he doesn’t learn what’s going on with their network and the Men of Letters, just in case.

He worried very little about Hell. Even before this, he went there less and less often. Ever since he killed Lucifer, there has just been little reason to go, aside from reminding everyone who’s in charge. And he’s never liked being the leader of a bunch of pitiful black-eyed cry babies anyway.

If anything, this experience has taught him very well where he stands.

One day, he gets a surprise visit.

It starts with strange noises coming down the hallway; he tenses until he recognizes Dean’s voice amidst the cursing and the banging.

“Can’t believe... I survived... three freaking apocalypses... to carry this thing for miles...”

“It’s not that far, Dean.”

Even Cas sounds exhausted.

“Guys... guys – careful!”

Another bang. Sam hisses.

“You okay Sammy? Mick, can’t you make sure...”

“I can barely see the corridor!”

“Stop grinning” Dean complains.

It makes sense when the door opens and Mel is carried into the room in a bathtub, as happy as can be.

“I am never doing that again” Dean announces.

“We have to take her back later” Cas reminds him.

“Hi Crowley” she says, still grinning.

“Mistress of the waves”.

“There it is. Knew something was up when you didn’t call me that.”

She squints.

“Yeah. There’s something on his soul... must be the spell. A dark spot... Sorry I can’t tell exactly. I can only barely make out demons’ souls, and humans are completely unreadable.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but my soul, or what is left of it, is dark as a matter of course.”

“You’d be surprised” she replies cryptically.

“But still... here’s the thing: The spell, while powerful, doesn’t seem to have a very firm hold on him.”

“I’ll be the first to tell you it does” he presses out. “I’ve been trying...”

“I didn’t mean that” she sounds apologetic. “I think it’s easier to get rid of it once you know how, that is all.”

That’s some good news, he supposes.

Mel stays for a bit longer, eager for a chat.

Crowley doesn’t seem to be the only one who enjoys her company. Mick certainly appreciates her visit.

It’s remarkably easy to tell. After all, he looks at her and Dean the same way.

It was a nice thing of her to literally drop in and come see him. He’s starting to develop cabin fever.

God, he needs this spell to be gone.

Not knowing where they stand exactly with the Men of Letters is infuriating. From the little information Dean gave him, it looks like they could win this war any day, but he wants to be sure.

Soon. The boys will find a way out of this.

Dean promised.

Once again, her son doesn’t show up.

Rowena is aware that Dr. Hess is growing more impatient with each passing day.

Her own fault. She should have given Fergus more specific instructions. That he has to do anything to bring them a report, for instance. Or make him incapable of acting differently than he usually would.

She could have done so herself, but...

He’s still her son. She might hate him most of the time and enjoyed breaking what was left of his heart, but blood’s thicker than water, and she enjoys the chaos of giving him a fighting chance.

Someone who clearly doesn’t is Mary Winchester. She’s still livid about the decision to exclude her from the spell, and she’s rather eager to finally destroy every monster in existence, so the free pass Rowena is supposed to get annoys her beyond all means.

One day, she corners her in the hallway.

“Where is he?” she hisses.

“Fergus? If I knew, you would, dear.”

“How can we be sure of that? You might be working with him...”

“That would be a rather bad decision, honestly. Because as soon as he’s free, he’ll come for me. Aided by your sons, no doubt.”

“They are... misguided. By your son, among others. I’m just trying to save them.”

She’s still convinced of that, apparently, not realizing that much of her motivation stems from the distain for the hunting life she thought she left behind.

“Of course you are. By destroying everything they hold dear.”

“They’re used to this life. That is all. Once they can go and be normal, they’ll...” Mary breaks off.

“I’m not discussing my family with a witch” she spits out.

“If you think that’s the worst thing I’ve ever had thrown at me... Fergus was always very creative. And I’d rather be a witch than something else”.

She moves past Mary.

Right as she’s about to turn the corner, she calls over her shoulder, “And at least I openly despise my offspring.”

She hears her march off and smiles. Undoubtedly Mary will do what she usually does to blow off steam and go kill something.

Rowena suddenly finds she vastly preferred her sons’ company to hers.

Dean was downright adorable when he had amnesia.

No wonder Fergus has a weakness for them, really.

A weakness...

She turned him week when she performed that spell. He must hate it. He always hated being told what to do, even when he was just a wee bairn in Scotland.

There was a reason she tried to sell him for three pigs once. He never forgave her for that.

Not that he’ll ever forget what she did to him now. Her son can hold a grudge.

She was right about Mary. She ends up disappearing for a few days and comes back splattered with blood and gore, a manic gleam in her eyes.

Rowena shudders. If the boys were like this, she wouldn’t be alive anymore.

Even so however, she and Mary Winchester aren’t that different.

That thought stops her in her tracks.

It’s true. They are both betraying their children.

At least Rowena knows exactly why and is honest about it.

But, watching Mary argue with Dr. Hess once again, she’s not so sure that’s a good thing, either.

Mary Winchester is starting to annoy her. She doesn’t see the big picture – she’s just as mistaken as her sons are, only in a different way.

If she could, she’d go on a killing spree right now, and Dr. Hess has never been comfortable with unreliable colleagues.

She made an exception for Mr. Ketch because he was useful and knew when to obey orders, but that was it.

Mary Winchester might soon turn out to be as much as liability as her sons ever were.

If so, she’s looking forward to dealing with the consequences. Mick Davies has taught her something.

No more weak links.

Just another day in the life.

His boyfriend is talking to their werewolf buddy on the phone, his other best friend is still locked in his room, his brother is cleaning the weapons they used last night (nasty wendigo, thank God Tara noticed the signs and alerted them) and their newest addition is studying an old Hebrew document.

Yep, just another day in the life.

Even if Garth’s news that nearly every werewolf he knows is ready to support them is a little overwhelming.

Mick storms in just after Cas hangs up, looking frustrated.

“Nothing. And I know the spell must have ties to the Bible, but I never got high enough in the organization to learn about it – “

“Hey, don’t worry about it, man. We’ll find a way.”

“We always do” Cas confirms.

Mick sighs.

“not being able to help... It’s just frustrating.”

“Welcome to the club. You’ll get used to it”.

“At least he’s in a pretty good mood”.

“I think “not being told what to do” right now trumps everything, concerning Crowley.”

“You... know him very well” Mick begins, glancing at Cas.

“There were rumours...”

“If you mean the one where I turned into a demon and we spent a few weeks bffing it up, that’s true.”

He doesn’t even bait an eyelid.

He’s really growing used to all of this.

“Thank you. I was wondering.”

“You’re taking it pretty well.”

“I know you. I know you are a good man. The indiscretions of your past don’t matter in context.”

Dean sniggers a little at Mick describing his turning into a demon as “indiscretions”, causing him to blush and take his leave.

Cas’ arms circle around him.

“Don’t do that” he murmurs.

“Just having fun”.

Cas’ arms tighten.

“He’s younger than me”.

Oh.

“Cas, are you – are you actually jealous? Of Mick?”

“No, of course not.”

He sounds a bit grumpy and Dean turns around to kiss him.

“How about we agree we are all adults here and trust one another?”

Cas looks slightly ashamed of himself. Dean kisses him again.

“Come on. We got a King of Hell to save and the British Nazis to take down.”

#my writings #destiel #season 12 au

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inkmachine7 · 1 year

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I just wanted to say that I absolutely love ur cuphead aus they're just so cool and uhh that made me wonder, how did you come up with these aus like the Lamia cups and ck?

Thank you! It always makes me happy to receive messages like this. ck! It occurred to me because of my extreme fanaticism of powerful characters who lack mental health.

As for the Lamias, a few years ago I saw a drawing of Cuphead Quest with a snake body, I wanted to do the same but much more "primitive"

#Ask

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i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend · 6 years

Text

Sexiled (Part 1/23) ~ Steve Rogers x Reader College!AU

A/N: Hello lovelies! So this is the story I was going to post last night, but then life got in the way. So you get a Monday post! Yay! lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Nat sexiles you the night before an exam so you decide to crash on your common room couch. Too bad there’s already someone there.

Characters/pairings: Steve Rogers, eventual Steve x reader, Nat and Bucky mentioned

Rating: T

Warnings: Language (that’s it)

Word count: 1532

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

(8:53 PM) Natasha: Do you mind staying out of the room tonight?

(9:25 PM) Natasha: I’m guessing since you didn’t answer you’re cool with it. Thanks! Love you!

You groaned as you stepped off the elevator. It was almost 3 AM and you had an exam in the morning. And because of said exam you had turned your phone off to study nine hours ago, apparently missing some very important news.

“At least the common room has a comfy couch,” you muttered as you trudged down the hall.

You were mentally calculating how much sleep was necessary for you to be awake for your exam when you turned the corner and found the couch you’d been planning on crashing on occupied.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Apparently you were louder than you intended because the guy jolted awake and started looking around for his books.

“Crap, I’m going to be late for my exam.”

“Easy there. It’s only 3 AM, and I don’t know of any classes here that start before 8,” You joked and he leaned back against the couch.

You couldn’t help but admire his physique as his chest heaved, and your cheeks burned when he caught you staring at him.

“Do I know you?” He squinted like he was trying to place you.

“I don’t think so.”

You would remember meeting someone so attractive.

“Well, in that case. Hi. I’m Steve.”

“Y/n.” You waved one hand somewhat awkwardly as you dumped your backpack on the table and moved to the sink to fill your water bottle. “So, Steve, I’m like sixty-two percent confident you don’t live on this floor. So why are you asleep in my common room?”

“How are you only sixty percent sure I don’t live here?” he asked somewhat incredulously.

“Sixty-two percent,” you corrected.

“I was studying for an exam with a friend and he decided to call it quits about,” he glanced at his watch, “An hour ago and I thought I’d take a twenty minute power nap before cranking out a few more hours of studying.” He grinned as he ran a hand through his messy blond hair. “So what’s your excuse?”

“Exam in the morning. Just got back from the library to find I’ve been sexiled. So I was planning on crashing on the couch.”

You sat cross-legged in one of the arm chairs and redid your messy bun before pulling your binder out of your backpack

“Well I apologize for taking your bed.”

“It’s okay,” you shrugged. “I should keep cramming anyways.”

“What are you studying for?” He asked as he looked around for his notebook.

“Chem 101,” You groaned.

“Wait, really? Me too. Are you in Erskine’s 8AM?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Wait that’s why I recognize you. You sit front right and answer all the hard questions.”

“Not really,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious. You’d been labelled “teacher’s pet” practically your whole life and it wasn’t a nickname you were eager to bring with you into college.

“I didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” he smiled apologetically. “I wish I followed along that well. I feel like I’m always five steps behind.”

You weren’t sure what to say. You wanted to be encouraging but you also knew this was a weed out course.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. But if you’re going to keep cramming, we could study together.”

“That’s be great.”

“Awesome. Okay. Let’s get started.”

You hopped up and closed the doors to the common room so you wouldn’t bother anyone and then pulled out the rest of your notes.

“Umm. Wow.”

You glanced up and he was staring at the rainbow papers in your hand.

“Colors help me study,” you told him sheepishly.

“Do you do that during class?”

“Oh God no. This is what I spent eight hours on in the library tonight.”

The look of shock faded and he nodded.

“That makes a lot more sense.”

“So umm, where do you want to start?” You asked nervously.

“Let’s do the most recent section on bonding?” He suggested, flipping through his own notebook.

“Sure. Sounds good.”

The two of you studied surprisingly well together and by 6AM when your first alarm went off you were both feeling fairly confident.

“I think that’s about all my brain can take,” he groaned slightly as he stretched and you couldn’t help but notice the strip of skin that was exposed as his t-shirt rose up. “I think I’m going to go take a shower and try to wake up.”

“Probably a good idea. I’m probably going to fall asleep during the exam,” you half-laughed as you stretched your neck. “Maybe I should skip the nap and go try to track down some coffee and start the caffeinating now.”

“No way, you need sleep for sure.”

“I’m kind of afraid I’m going to sleep through my exam. Besides, I don’t think I’m going to get much sleep out here.”

As if to prove your point three different people exited their rooms to shower in the next few seconds. Steve frowned slightly before looking at you with a slightly bashful expression.

“Well, since I’m gonna shower. You could come nap in my bed. And then I can make sure you’re up for the exam.”

“I couldn’t possibly. I mean, what about your roommate?”

“He had PT this morning at 6.”

You couldn’t believe you were actually considering this. But you were exhausted and it would mean you didn’t have to worry about waking up for the exam.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. If you’d rather I can just come back up here and wake you.”

A few more people started traipsing into the common room, and you knew you’d never get any sleep.

“Actually, I think I will take you up on that offer. Thank you.”

He smiled and grabbed your backpack.

“It’s the least I can do. I did steal your couch after all,” he grinned.

It turned out he lived two floors below you. The room was neater than you’d anticipated. Both lofted beds were made and the desks held stacks of papers and books.

“Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to the bed on the right side of the room before turning to his drawers to gather clothes for the day. “What’s wrong?” he asked when he noticed you hadn’t moved.

“Uhhm…” You eyed the gap between the floor and the bed warily. He’d removed the ladder that typically went with lofts, clearly not needing it.

“Oh, right,” he laughed to himself putting two and two together. “I usually use the desk to get up there.”

“Okay, if you don’t me using it then I’m good.”

You kicked your shoes off next to his desk and sat on it before swinging your legs up and spinning so you could stand. You wobbled slightly and Steve reflexively extended his hands towards you. From the desk, you were able to swing your leg up and haul yourself into the bed.

Steve tugged the blanket from the end of his bed over you.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, the softness of the bed already lulling you to sleep.

“Sleep tight, y/n.”

You groaned as you were shaken awake.

“Go away, Nat. My alarm isn’t even ringing,” you mumbled burrowing further under the covers.

However your eyes snapped open when you heard the throaty chuckle that most definitely did not belong to your roommate. You bolted upright, looking around to orient yourself. The piercing blue eyes you came face to face with didn’t exactly help your focus; you were hyper aware of his warm hand on your shoulder.

“Hi,” you squeaked out.

“Good morning,” he grinned. “How do you take your coffee?”

“On exam days… black.”

He hopped off the desk and set a mug under the Keurig, as you tried to wake yourself up.

“You know those are illegal,” you teased.

“Trust me. I’m providing a public service. Under-caffeinated Bucky Barnes is not good for anyone.”

“Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

He handed you the cup before hoisting himself onto the bed next to you.

Inhaling deeply, you let out a content sigh. “Cute boy bringing me coffee. You know, this is not such a bad way to wake up.”

“Happy to be of service.”

You grimaced. “I said that out loud didn’t I?”

He nodded, smirking.

“I’m just going to drink my coffee. Under-caffeinated y/n y/l/n isn’t good for anyone.”

“I don’t know about that,” he teased. “She seems pretty nice to me.”

Rolling your eyes, you nudged his shoulder.

Once the caffeine was coursing through your system, the realization that you had an exam hit.

“Okay. Right. Exam. Let’s do this.”

Steve took the empty mug from you before helping you down from the bed.

“Well I should go change, assuming my roommate isn’t having round 2. Thanks for the coffee and for letting me crash in your bed.”

“Anytime.”

You arched an eyebrow and he blushed.

“I just meant it was my pleasure. I mean… I…”

“You’re gonna hurt yourself. Seriously thank you. I’ll see you at the exam.”

“See ya.”

You felt him watching you as you walked to the elevator and you bit your lip to keep from giggling.

A/N: So full disclaimer I do not recommend that you sleep i random strangers beds. lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this! I had a lot of fun writing it. Stay tuned for more fluffy goodness.

Tag lists are Open!

Steve/Chris Tag List @isaxhorror @peachykeen3502 @patzammit

Marvel Tag List @hdthdthdt @sophiatomlinson23 @misty-panther @supermusicallee @scarlettsoldier

Permanent Tag List @iamwarrenspeace @jayzayy @bexboo616 @neoqueen306 @santheweird @rowenaravencalw @buckitybarnes @prxttybirdz @sergeantjbuckybarnes @samwinchxtr @broitsmydick @ailynalonso15 @nyxveracity @queenoftrash97 @walkingtravesty97 @lamia-maizat @memyselfandmaddox @lowkeybuckyb

#Steve Rogers #steve x reader #College!Au

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i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend · 6 years

Text

Missed Connections ~ Steve Rogers x Reader College! AU (Part 7/7)

A/N: Hello my lovelies. So it’s here. The end of the story. I just want to thank you all for reading and commenting and reblogging and liking and everything. I have loved writing this particular story. I hope you enjoy the ending. It’s a little something to wrap up. There will also be an epilogue posted some time this week. All that being said, I really really love these two dorks, so if you have questions about them or things you want my headcanons for send them to me please!! I’d love to answer them (this goes for all of my stories BTW)

Anyways thank you thank you thank you! Enjoy!

Summary: Reader and Steve have some alone time after the dance

Characters/Pairings: Steve x Reader, the others are mentioned

Rating: T for language

Warnings: none really

Word Count: 1154

There was some mutual chastising for meddling and the subsequent payback, but overall everyone was just happy to see you and Steve together. Conversation was soon set aside in favor of dancing. Your group was large enough to form a small mosh pit and somehow managed to push you and Steve to the center.

As the night wound down, everyone was directed out onto the balcony for the surprise finale. Steve moved to follow the rest of your friends but you stopped him. When he shot you a questioning look and gestured towards the crowd of people, you simply shook your head and winked before dragging him towards the back exit.

“Y/n, where are we going? We’re gonna miss it.”

“No. we’re about to have the best seat in the house,” you smirked knowing he had no idea what the surprise was. “Come on.”

Once you were outside you led him down the dirt pathway and over the bridge to the docks. You pulled off your heels and tucked your legs under you, trailing your fingers against the rough wood. He hesitated for a moment before following suit, sitting cross-legged beside you.

“What are we doing out here? What’s the surprise?”

“Watch.”

Just as he turned his attention to the sky above the opposite bank where you were pointing, the first round of fireworks lit up the night.

“Wow,” he breathed out quietly.

You glanced over when you heard him moving around beside you.

“Where are you going?” you asked, surprised to see him getting to his feet.

“Just making myself more comfortable,” he grinned moving behind you.

His hands settled on your waist, pulling you closer so you could rest your head on his shoulder and lace your fingers over his.

“Ooh. I like this much better,” you admitted.

“Thought you might,” he rumbled in your ear, making you giggle.

You stayed cuddled like that long after the last sparks faded from the sky.

“You know, I’m really glad you posted that missed connection,” you murmured turning to smile at him. “Otherwise I’d still be avoiding eye contact and giggling every time you walked by.”

He looked a little surprised by your confession. .

“You were giggling because of me?”

“Oh yeah. Every time. I have zero poker face, so the second I would see you coming I would get this big dopey grin and look at the ground because I was flustered and I thought you would think I was a dork. But once you’d passed I couldn’t get rid of the nervous giddy feeling so I’d end up giggling.”

“I thought you were just always happy,” he admitted, “When I wrote that confession, I didn’t really think you’d even know who posted it, but I figured asking you to smile my way was an easy way to find out if you had even noticed me.”

“Notice you? I was looking for you as soon as I started classes.”

The words slipped out before your brain could shut you up and you quickly pressed your lips together. You toyed with his tie as you leaned against his leg, mortified.

“Does that mean you remembered me from your orientation?”

Your eyes flew to his in surprise.

“How did you know that?”

He offered you a crooked smile as he stroked your cheek.

“Because I remember you of course. I had seen you early on day one but you weren’t in my group so I didn’t see you for the rest of the day. But then you came down to the dance floor at the party that night and your friend asked me to teach you both the SHIELD shuffle. I did but then you went to get your free t-shirt and I had to switch assignments with somebody else before I got the chance to actually talk to you.”

You could feel the broad grin stretching across your face.

“I assumed you met so many people that summer, you’d never remember me.”

“I couldn’t forget you.”

His hand slid from your cheek to cup the back of your neck and you pulled him closer by his tie. You both moved slowly, savoring the moment before your lips finally met. The kiss was soft but exciting and Steve pulled you entirely onto his lap as you tangled your fingers in his hair, clutching yourself even closer.

You stayed on the docks for a few hours, talking and kissing. When you simply couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore Steve insisted on going back to the dorm.

Yawning, you pulled your ID from your purse and swiped it at the station outside the security desk. You offered them a sleepy smile as you showed them the ID and Steve did the same before wrapping his arm around your waist. You leaned your head against his shoulder, and sighed happily.

As you walked past the dining hall, you realized two things: one, late night was still open and two you were starving. Steve took one look at your face and steered you inside.

“Why don’t you find us a seat and I’ll go get us food.”

“Sounds good,” you sighed.

He kissed your cheek and hurried into line for food. As you scanned the room for an open booth you could cuddle up in, you heard Sam call your name.

Looking over, you found your friends piled into the long booth, smirking at you. They had clearly been there since the party ended because they were all still dressed up and waggling their eyebrows at you.

You were sure you looked a mess – your dress was rumpled, your heels were dangling from your fingers, and Steve’s suit jacket was draped around your shoulders. You knew what they were thinking, and on some level you felt you should be embarrassed, but the truth was you couldn’t find it in you to care.

With false reluctance you joined them, sliding in next to Bucky at the end of the booth.

“Hey, doll,” he grinned. “Where’d you disappear to? You missed the fireworks.”

“I think she was busy making fireworks of her own,” Tony grinned.

You rolled your eyes in response, turning away as you answered your phone.

“Hey you.”

“Hey, where’d you end up sitting?”

“Follow the sounds of the obnoxious people,” you smirked at them but shrieked when Bucky poked you in the ribs.

“Oh so you found our friends,” he joked.

“Exactly. Big booth on the far wall.”

“I see you.”

You looked up and saw Steve walking towards you and as he smiled at you, you couldn’t help but think back on the night all those months ago when you first read his missed connection. That one missed connection had turned into a half dozen new friendships and you couldn’t be happier. And as he slid in next to you and wrapped his arm around your waist your smile grew. You could get used to this.

A/N: So there it is. In case any of you were wondering when they first saw each other. I hope you enjoyed this! As I said there will be an epilogue, but also any headcanons/burning questions you have send them my way! Thank you again for all your love and support. It means everything to me.

I also have a ton of ideas that I’m currently fleshing out so I plan on posting an update on all those soon so stay tuned.

Thank you my lovelies!

xoxo Naynay

Missed Connections Tag List @lovethroughthemiles @lamia-maizat @trashcanfullofdork @angry-chipmunk @sukeraa @toastmaster94 @ajduurikscjsja @wordlesscaptain @hurricane--amelia

Steve/Chris Tag List @isaxhorror @peachykeen3502

Marvel Tag List @hdthdthdt @sophiatomlinson23 @misty-panther @supermusicallee

Permanent Tag List @iamwarrenspeace @jayzayy @bexboo616 @neoqueen306 @santheweird @rowenaravencalw @buckitybarnes @prxttybirdz @the-marvel-dc-peasant @samwinchxtr @broitsmydick @ailynalonso15 @nyxveracity @queenoftrash97 @walkingtravesty97

#Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x Reader #College!Au #Missed Connections #Part 7 #Final Part

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