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[breitzbachbea]

Drabble #84

Opposites attract and nothing show that more than clashing magnets finding each other as soon as they return. Or - Magnús walking into hell while Freyja, walking first, gently holds his hand. (These two belong to my beloved @swabianmapley )

Drabble Collection on Ao3 Ship: SigFrey

“Oho, pretty lady, where are you going at this hour?” Magnús asked, his hand still on the key.

Freyja rolled her eyes, but the sated smile on her face never waned.

“Into bed, big boy,” she said, clung to his arm and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. Magnús chuckled and took the hand from the key to put his arm around her instead.

With the other, he turned the key and pushed the door open. Freyja’s hand found his arm again.

The two stumbled into their hotel room. The door was closed with more force than expected and louder than perhaps welcome at the time.

“Seems like you had a fun night out,” Magnús said. He was glad to be back with her after their group of Irishmen and Scots had split.

“The funnest. What about you?”

“It was alright.”

Freyja swung around to stand in front of him and let go of his arm. Despite her slight stagger, she was steady on her feet. “Would have rather that we stayed back in Reykjavík?”

Her gall, her good-natured taunt, amplified by the alcohol in her veins. He smiled, much softer than her grin.

“I didn’t say it was bad,” he answered. He turned as he got out of his jacket. “I got invited to a whiskey tasting.” He opened the closet.

“Oh, did you now?” Freyja asked and when he looked over his shoulder, he saw her curious and elated smile, her eyebrows arched.

“Mhm.” He hung up the jacket. “Well, they’ve planned a whiskey tasting in front of m.” When he turned around to Freyja and closed the door behind him, her excitement was less radiant and she had crossed her arms in front of her. “They talked about it like a big event, with everyone involved. Told me to tell Emil about it.”

“Oh, great! So, we’ve been invited to a whiskey tasting.” She let herself fall onto the bed and untied her boots.

“If anything even comes of it and it wasn’t just a wet idea…” Magnús sat down on the arm chair to remove his shoes.

“I think it sounds fun! I’m sure Emil will love it!” Magnús cocked an eyebrow and waited, until Freyja looked at him. “Come on, Siggi, it’s basically like the get-together after the sheep and horses returned from the mountains. He’s comfortable at those.”

“Those don’t have insane people. I’m pretty sure this is going to end in chaos, something he is decidedly less comfortable around.”

Freyja threw her boots to the side and waved her hand. “He’s been doing fine on his family weekend with Chun and Fen in the Icelandic wilderness so far, he can handle a little drama.” She shrugged. “Also, remember that time the Danish were over for the sheep and horse handling?”

Freyja caught a glimpse of Magnús’ face and burst into laughter. He hadn’t unhunched his shoulders yet, although the pure rage and repulsion had been replaced by a thoroughly miffed stare into space. “Regrettably so.” Every time Jóhann asked about Frej and if he wouldn’t want to come again next year, admiration and a little bit of excitement in his voice, it was hard to grin and bear it.

Freyja had fallen onto her back and held her stomach. Once she stopped laughing, she went limp and sighed. She fumbled with her belt, opened it and unzipped her pants.

However, she struggled to strip out of them.

“Do you need help?” he asked.

“Yeah, if you could pull from the bottom, that’d be great.” She pulled her pants off with little struggle. “Thanks, sweetheart – Oh my god, you’re such a square.” She laughed again as he folded her pants to put them away.

“Your square,” he replied and put her pants on a chair. “Looking out for you.”

She crossed her arms behind her head and he avoided to look at her naked legs. “I know. You don’t have to be at attention every possible moment though. Like, I know. Yes. That comes free with this life, but .. the whiskey tasting sounds nice.”

“With normal people it would, I’m sure.” She shrugged. She still had to take her piercings out. “Like, danger aside, people like those aren’t exactly the company I’d choose for a fun evening.”

“Normal-Schmormal. You chose me, didn’t you?” She smiled at him. It wasn’t beaming, it wasn’t smirking, but it radiated kindness that seeped right through his skin into his heart. “You love my weirdness. You followed it all the way into hell.” Gratitude. Apologies written in her eyes.

“I … yes … I mean …” He was at a loss for words. Instead, he got onto the bed, laid beside her and took her hand. As they gazed into each other’s eyes, their fingers intertwined.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Comfort Crowd

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: dean just needs you next to him

pairing: (stanford era) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language��

word count: 1.9k

warnings: hurt/sad dean, language, reader drives after drinking but she’s not drunk, that’s it i think

author’s note: i know this gif is of jason teague and not dean winchester but that’s literally samford era jackles so i think it fits perfectly <3

music: comfort crowd by conan gray — was listening to conan gray and bam! dean winchester fic idea! anyways…

When you saw who was calling your brows furrowed — Dean? You had talked to him earlier in the week, just a casual check-in to make sure you were both still alive. You and Dean had gotten into a fight about a month prior and you both decided to just take a break from each other. You had made it clear that you were not breaking up with him, you just needed a break.

Last time you talked he was working a case in Texas, something with ghouls and sororities. You had just finished up a werewolf hunt and he had voiced his jealousy. He hadn’t gotten to fight a werewolf in many, many moons (pun intended).

“Dean?” you answered the call, still holding your first beer of the night in your free hand. He didn’t say anything, there was only labored breathing on the other side and that worried you. “Dean? Honey, is everything okay?” He still said nothing. “Dean, what’s—”

“Where are you?” he asked. His voice was clearly on the verge of cracking. He’d been crying?

“Uh, Bakersfield California,” you told him. “Just finished another case, simple ghost hunt. What’s wrong, Dean?” He again went back to just breathing. “Dean, where are you?”

“I’m in Palo Alto,” he said. “You—Could you get up here, p-please? I need you, hun. I just—I need you here.”

“I’ll be right there Dean, four hours tops,” you told him. You stood up off your chair and paid your tab. “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t…fuck, I just wanna see you…please?”

“Of course, Dean, I’ll be there soon,” you reminded him. “What motel are you staying at?”

“I can text you the address just please…please hurry.”

With that, he hung up. 

Please don’t be dying, you thought to yourself. 

**

After several traffic violations and broken speed limits, you were finally knocking on his door.

“Dean!” you called out, not caring if it was now nearly three in the morning and there were definitely other people staying at the motel. “For the love of god Dean, open the fucking door!”

He unlocked and opened the door, rubbing his tired eyes. “Hey, you made it.” He smiled a little…smiled?

“Dean what the hell is going on?” you asked, trying to stay calm as you walked into the room. “You—That call? What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, “I’m fine.”

“Fine?” You furrowed your brows. “Dean you called me in tears and asked me to race over here as if you were dying?”

“I…I wasn’t in tears,” he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hang on…how do I know you’re you?” you asked. 

He smiled and rolled his eyes a little before you both did the usual tests.

“See, sweetheart? All me!” He smiled again.

“Dean,” you said softly, “what’s going on? Are you…Are you dying?”

“No!” he scoffed, not calming your nerves in the slightest. “I’m sorry I scared you I just…needed you here. With me, next to me. I—Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Dean,” you shook your head, “I get it.”

You walked over to him and pulled him down into a hug; your right hand went to the back of his head as your fingers combed through his hair. 

“I’m here Dean, you’re okay,” you told him. His grip tightened around you, as if he was scared you’d break off the hug. “I’m right here.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking again. “Thank you.” 

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. You were on your tiptoes, which was kind of uncomfortable, but your love for the man in your arms outweighed any discomfort. You felt Dean’s tears begin to dampen your neck and your eyes grew cloudy at the thought of him in pain. He truly mastered the art of silent crying, he must’ve had to hide his tears from that bastard father of his growing up, and that thought only made your heart break more. Your grip tightened around his shoulders and you turned your head so you could place a soft kiss on his temple. You made a trail of kisses down to his jawline then left your lips there against his skin. 

“Thank you,” he pulled away, “just…thanks.”

“Do you wanna lay down, Dean?” you asked. “We could cuddle up and maybe watch a movie? Or we could listen to music? I’ve got my iPod and we could share my earbuds?”

A soft smile returned to his tear-stained face and he nodded; “Music sounds perfect.”

“Mkay,” you replied. “Now, I have to admit I don’t have many Zeppelin songs downloaded—”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head, “I don’t care what song we play, as long…as long as you’re here. Just need your company.”

“Funnily enough, I do have some Bad Company songs,” you joked, causing his smile to grow. 

“You’re the best company,” he countered. 

“Why don’t you change into your PJs while I go get my bags from the car? We can get comfortable in the bed and maybe you’ll even get some sleep.”

**

Your fingers were once again tangled in Dean’s hair as his head lay on your chest, he was facing away from you but you knew he was still crying. You just didn’t know why.

“Is this Heuy Lewis?” Dean chuckled.

“Hey! No disrespecting Heuy!” you laughed, but Dean knew you were serious. “You want me to skip it?”

“Nah, I’ll live,” he joked. The joke made your heart clench a little though; your mind going back to the call he made to you a mere few hours ago. How scared he sounded. How scared you were as you raced to get to him. Dean must’ve sensed the change in the room because he made sure to remind you; “I’m fine.”

“You said that line already, Dean,” you said through a sigh. “I’m here if you wanna talk, okay?”

“I don’t wanna talk,” he mumbled. “I meant what I said—I just need you here with me, I just need you around.” 

Your free hand (the one that wasn’t currently in Dean’s hair) went to rub comforting circles on his upper back. He let out a contented sigh which made you smile.

“I love you, Dean,” you told him. “I love you more than anything, you know that, right?”

“Thank you,” he mumbled. He buried his face against your chest, trying to hide the sheepish smile forcing its way onto his face before he lifted his head so he could look into your eyes. “I love you so much.”

He leaned over and kissed you softly, his smile connecting with yours. He pulled away after a moment, simply looking into your eyes. He kissed you once more before laying back down, this time resting his head next to yours so he could kiss you again. 

“Sorry about your shirt,” he said, laughing awkwardly at the damp mess of spilled tears covering a fair portion of your tee.

“I don’t mind, kinda like my shirt soggy,” you shrugged with a smile, pulling him closer to you and tucking your head under his chin. 

**

When you woke the next morning you did not expect Dean to be singing to himself while making breakfast.

“What time is it?” you asked with a yawn as you sat up in bed. 

“About seven,” he replied. “Good morning, by the way.”

“Good morning.”

You hurried over to the small kitchen so you could wrap your arms around him from behind.

“What’s gotten into you?” he teased. 

“Could ask you the same question, handsome,” you replied, not letting go. “The food smells amazing and all, but since when do you cook?”

“Remember that fight we had?”

“I vaguely recall,” you said, somewhat flatly. 

“I’ve been working on my breakfast cooking so when I saw you again I could you know…woo you.”

“‘Woo me’?” You raised a brow, your smile growing. “You’re wooing me…with bacon?”

“Damn right!” he scoffed lightheartedly. “I know the way into your heart, and whether you admit it or not—it’s mother fuckin’ breakfast food.”

“You know me way too well,” you laughed. “I’m officially wooed.”

There was a comfortable silence before Dean answered the question he knew you were still wondering about; “Sam and I fought last night.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“I knew him going to a fancy college would put a bit of a rift between us…but fuck, sweetheart,” he said. He ran his hands down his face before he leaned against the counter and looked at you; “I think we…I don’t think Sammy and I will ever be as close as we were growin’ up ever again.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, Dean,” you assured him, placing a hand on his bicep and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Sammy just needs time, maybe a bit of space, but that’s only temporary, Dean.”

“Seems like everyone around me always needs space,” he chuckled humorously. 

“If this is about what I said—”

“Nah, you don’t have to explain yourself, I get it!” He shook his head, faking a smile. “You couldn’t stand being around me all the time and hey, that’s okay.”

Your brows furrowed with slight anger; “That’s not what I said, Dean.”

“That’s what it sounded like,” he mumbled before he turned back to the stove to continue making breakfast. 

“Dean I love you, you know I love you!” you said. “I raced here last night when you asked me to, doesn’t that prove I love you!?”

“And what happens when we get into another fight?” he exclaimed. “What happens when you decide that you need more space and you don’t bother coming back to me?”

“That’s not going to happen?” you countered. 

“You can’t say that for sure,” Dean said. 

“Yes I can, Dean!”

“What makes you think that, huh?” he replied loudly. “What makes you think you aren’t gonna run the second you realize that putting space between was the best decision of your fucking life!?”

“Because I love you, Dean!” you said, matching his tone. “Because no matter how far away I was from you the one thought running through my head was that I should call you. That I should stop being so stubborn and run back to you.” You sighed as he continued cooking and you went up to him again, leaning on his bicep and running your hands up and down his forearm. “Because when I got that call…all logic flew out the window and all that mattered to me was getting to you. When I thought you might be dying I didn’t care about anything else and I raced to you like a mad woman. Like a girl so lovestruck she’s practically crazy!”

Dean let out a chuckle which made you smile.

“So…you’re sayin’ you missed me?” he asked, a cocky smirk finding its way to his lips.

“Yes,” you sighed dramatically. “Okay? Yes, Dean, I missed you like fuckin’ crazy, and I’m sorry for ever suggesting we take a damn break. But… you know what this means now, right?”

He looked at you cautiously; “What?”

“You’re stuck with me, Winchester.” You grinned. “And I’m never letting you go again.”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied as he leaned down and kissed you.

[reidrum]

surprise songs | s.r.

A/N: okay listen i am not a fan of unrealistic professions for reader who’s dating reid, BUT i just totally know penelope is one to hyper analyze every surprise song and definitely has theories for when rep tv is coming. it’s canon idk. enjoy this silly little thing it’s just for funsies <3 (not proofread im lazy)

spencer reid x popstar!reader

cw: literally none, reader is basically taylor swift for convenience purposes, angry penelope?

summary: garcia yells at reid because you sang sad songs on tour, how could you do that reid

wc: 0.5k

——————————————————————————

Penelope’s heels clack through the bullpen with a vengeful mission to find a certain stupid boy genius. She walks past Derek’s desk who lets out an amused whistle and turns his chair to watch her wreak her wrath.

Hell hath no fury like a Penelope scorned.

“What the hell did you do?” She exclaims, lightly smacking the back of Spencer’s head.

Spencer reacts in shock, “Hey! What was that for?” He tries to rack his brain for what Penelope could be upset about. Did he miss her birthday? An event?

She pulls out her phone and shows the screen to Spencer, who leans closer and strains to read it.

[“SURPRISE PIANO SONG N1 WEMBLEY: Teardrops On My Guitar/The Last Time!”]

Oh.

You and Spencer had been dating for a year now, a little before you embarked on your world tour. Every night you would perform a few acoustic songs that differed each show, and some fans liked to read into the diabolical combinations you’d come up with.

“Garcia, I didn’t do anything!”

“Then why, would she sing those together! Do you not understand how insane those choices are? Together?! You obviously did something to make her do that, and as the only person close enough to you to do something it’s my job to reprimand you.” She huffs.

Spencer chuckled to himself, he knew Penelope was a huge fan of his girlfriend but he found it amusing that she was analyzing their relationship from song choices.

She playfully thwacks his forehead again. Spencer shouts, “Maybe she just wanted to sing sad songs, I don’t know!”

“Bullshit, Reid.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

He held his hands up in mock surrender, “Do you want me to ask her?”

“Oh my god, no! You dummy, don’t do that. I don’t want her to think I’m like, a crazy fan or something.”

Derek snorts from the back of the bullpen, Spencer shakes his head, “Okay, would you prefer I sit in a corner and think about my actions?”

“Actually, yes that would be nice.”

He raises his eyebrows in amusement and stands up, walking to an unoccupied corner of the bullpen and sits down, looking back at Garcia with a faux sad look on his face, “This good?”

Penelope nods triumphantly and clacks back to her cave. Spencer laughs to himself as he pulls his phone out, opening up a flower delivery website.

It can’t hurt to cover his bases, right?

The next day Spencer gets a text from you,

Thank you for the flowers, my love. They’re almost as pretty as you. Can’t wait to see you soon, love you :)

He smiles and replies lovingly to you, and sets his phone back down to finish the rest of his work.

Later that day Penelope comes back into the bullpen to deliver something to Hotch, and passes Spencer’s desk, and before he has time to brace for impact she gives him a cautionary smile, “You did good, but you’re still on thin ice, Reid. “

Happily confused, Reid pulls out his phone again to google search what you sang today, piecing together the obvious reason for Penelope’s change in attitude towards him.

[SURPRISE SONG PIANO N2 WEMBLEY: This Love/Ours!]

His cheeks rise in a blush, feeling bashful and loved. He sends you another loving text with a promise to call you tonight.

Safe to say, Penelope is more than pleased with the following surprise song choices in the next shows.

[sinsandsweetness]

drunk tank- part 2

cw- vulgar language, drug and alcohol use, slight angst and pining for the reader, references to sexual acts. about 2.6k words that aren’t proofread:/ sorry loves.

notes- i started writing and i don’t know what happened. hopefully you guys don’t hate it? way more plot than i intended but… much smutty goodness to come, i promise (no pun intended)

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! i live for your feedback and love hearing your opinions <3

Fuck.

You don’t even want to look around the house. You already know it’s gonna be a fucking mess. You can hear it. Feel it. Hell, you can smell it. Booze and weed and sex. Sweaty bodies packed into a 3 bedroom trailer on the wrong side of town. Coke on the bathroom counter that’ll have you wishing you’d never let Merle move in in the first place.

You stop at the end of the driveway, wondering whether you should even go in. Or if you should get back in the taxi and tell him to take you away and never come back. Go work at some diner in the middle of butt fuck nowhere. Leave everyone else behind.

But Daryl’s face flashes through your mind. You can’t do that to him. Not after all he’s been through.

Growing up with the Dixons was a bit of a challenge. Merle being well… Merle. You and Daryl always ending up in some kind of dangerous and even disturbing situation. Creeps who smelled of Jack Daniel’s, with wandering hands and no sense of personal space. Having to put on a smile for Merle who desperately needed to finish the deal before you could even think about sneaking off to the truck. You were leverage. Sometimes even Daryl. Though you knew he hated it. Fried hair, rotting teeth, meth head bitches who thought he was trash enough to stoop that low. He wasn’t. Or at least he didn’t want to be.

You should go inside and find him. Get him to drive you to Shane’s to spend the night. It’s not like you’ll get any sleep tonight with this ruckus going on. Not after the shift you just had. And you’ve learned to really love Shane’s middle class, suburban townhouse with a California king and a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom. It was… different. Unfamiliar. A perfect little escape from the chaos of your typical day to day life. Of your piece of shit trailer that’s already falling apart and definitely wouldn’t pass a health inspection no matter what kind of construction worker you were to hook up with.

Besides, Shane was a good fuck. Not that that’s all that matters in a relationship. It’s not. Merle was a good fuck too. You’re not that hard to please. But Shane is sexy. Charismatic. He treats you like a Princess. And honestly… as much as Daryl makes fun of you for it… you’re starting to really like him. He pays for meals. Takes you out. Isn’t afraid to show you off or introduce you to his friends. And, the biggest part; he’s safe. Steady. A fucking cop for Christ sake. So much different than the guys you’ve been with before. You weren’t at risk of any stray needles or guns when you stayed at his place. The only gun he kept at home stayed locked up in his office and is used strictly for emergencies.

And his sheets are clean and his fridge is full and his best friend is a hunk who happens to be going through some minor marital issues that you can’t say you’re not excited about. For once in your life, things are starting to look up.

Well… not from where you’re standing. Dreading the pounding bass and music that you can already hear pouring out of the windows. Praying that Merle had the decency to lock your bedroom door, but it was unlikely. You pulled a blanket over his passed out body on the couch before you left for work, so the likelihood of him remembering what you gently whispered in his ear was extremely slim.

Be safe. Lock my door. Don’t do anything stupid.

He clearly hadn’t heard you. Or if he did, he didn’t listen. Because the sounds and smells coming from the house as you walk barefoot on the gravel with your heels in your hand are proving to be the latter.

The door is open. Coats and purses thrown about. Stares from the girl and the guy flirting away in the front entrance. Red solo cups in their hands presumably filled with whatever the cheapest keg that your ex could find at the value liquor across the diner. At least that’s what you have to assume. Cheap beer. Sticky and sweaty and- holy shit.

It’s Daryl. On the couch, with a girl.

It’s no surprise that he’s over. It’s not like he has any other place to stay.

It’s the girl on his lap that has you stopping in your tracks. Bright blonde hair and fishnets straddling his thigh. Blowing smoke onto his, thankfully, annoyed and unimpressed expression. She’s almost naked. That’s why you’re so shocked. It’s not like Daryl has ever had an issue getting with girls. But the fact that her skirt looks like a belt and there aren’t even any panties under her tights… well It’s just… a bit of an eye sore if you were honest.

He catches your gaze. The sight of you rolling your eyes at the pathetic little show in front of you. Turning down the hallway and knowing he’s probably already shoving her off and jogging to catch up right behind you. Down the hall and to your room where you’re unsurprisingly forced to kick a couple of sleeping stoners out of your bed. At least they still have their clothes on. Most of them anyway.

“Who was that?” You ask, not turning around but hearing the door latch and lock behind you. Daryl’s smokey, leather scent coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

He knows better.

“No one,” he mumbles into your neck, his breath smelling of the rum and coke he chugged and threw to the side before chasing you down the hall.

You can’t help the way you shake him off. He’s drunk for Christ’s sake. Not like he didn’t have a warm and willing body out there on the sofa. Probably desperate to get any of her slutty holes filled and fucked by your childhood best friend.

You slump down onto the bed. Unmade and definitely not from you. The thought makes you wince.

You run a hand over your face and think about the clean smell of pine sol and laundry detergent that now reminds you of the handsome, dark haired officer you’ve recently gotten to know.

Daryl sits down beside you. A nervous tic in his hands as he picks at his cuticle. Unsure of what to say or what to do. It’s not like he should feel bad. He was right, she is no one to him. He won’t even remember her name in the morning. But he still feels a twang of guilt. Wishing you hadn’t seen her string covered cunt grinding on his thigh in the middle of the living room.

“Where are the keys to the Chevy?” You ask, ending the awkward silence brewing between the two of you.

“No way.”

“I’m sober, Dare. There’s no way I can sleep here. Plus I work a double in the morning. Just hand em over.” You turn to face him. He sees the bags under your eyes and knows he should just hand them over. Let you get some beauty rest in officer Walshes big and beautiful bed. Where he’ll be sure to fuck you right tonight and make you a delicious breakfast in the morning before sending you off with a kiss and tap on your perky little ass. But that’s also exactly the reason why he doesn’t want you to leave. He wants to be the one sharing your bed tonight. He wants to make you some scrambled eggs in the morning and drop you off at the diner. Him. Not some asshole cop that fucked you right in front of him at the station a month ago. Hard and fast and really fucking good. By the sounds you were making and the twisted look of pleasure written on your face, it was good. And even Daryl could see that.

“Stay here. Please.” Daryl's hand makes Its way to your thigh.

“Daryl-”

“Don’t. Don’t fuckin- don’t leave.” He’s pleading with you. Can’t stand the thought of you moaning and writhing underneath his burly competition.

“Please.” His voice cracks but you pretend not to hear.

You shake your head. You need a shot. And an Advil.

“I’ll just call Shane.” You reach for your bag, ready to wake the poor guy up to come grab you from the trailer you refuse to let him enter, let alone see. Guess you gotta deal with it tonight.

“Fine- hey-“ he reached for your bag. Stopping you from grabbing the phone you’re rummaging for. “I’ll drive you.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I had one drink. Seriously. Look at me.” You do it. Maintaining the heavy eye contact that’s burning into your irises. He’s telling the truth. You can see it. The way he’s holding your leg and the expression on his face. He’s always been a terrible liar.

“Okay. Thank you.” Your voice is quiet, hushed and you know you sound like a bitch. But you’re just really fucking tired.

He pulls you by the hand the whole way out to the door. Dodging the blondie from the couch and pushing your ex out of the way when he sees you, wide eyed and calling your name. Pupils blown and clearly coked out. Part of the reason he’s your ex. Among a plethora of other reasons you’d rather not get in to.

Merle’s truck sounds like shit. Stuttering a few times before it roars to life. A weird clicking from the glove box that you’re just too tired to check out. Smokes and a used condom thrown about the passenger side floor. Unsurprising but still disgusting.

You grab your phone and send Shane a text. Making sure it’s actually ok that you do crash for the night. Not that he’d ever say no. But you want to be polite.

Mind if I swing by? A bit crowded at mine.

It only takes him a few stoplights to answer.

Of course, Princess. You need a ride?

You answer immediately. Thumbs tapping fast on the tiny little buttons of your blackberry.

Nope:) 5 mins away.

Perfect. See you soon gorgeous

You can’t help the smile creeping up on your expression. Curling on your glossy lips and catching the attention of your best friend in the drivers seat.

“Pfft-” he rolls his eyes, turning the corner a little sharper than you’d like.

“Oh, shut it.” You snap back. Daryl has never liked any of your boyfriends. You don’t blame him. Most of them were real pieces of shit. Using you for your body. Your money. Not that you had much to spare.

Merle and you never dated. Just a couple drunk hookups that you didn’t enjoy.

Daryl never liked that either. Knowing his brother had seen the most sacred parts of you. Touched you and held you and watched your eyes screw shut as you came all over his cock.

Daryl wishes he could be the only one who’s ever seen that. The only one who knows the sounds you make when you’re close and the way you’re breath hitches when he kisses that spot on your stomach. It fucking kills him. Thinking about you gripping Shane’s dark hair while he discovers that same exact same spot. Going lower and lower until you’re squirming and writhing and-

“Dare?” You repeat. Grabbing the attention of the scowling young man who’s gripping the steering wheel like it’s about to fly away from him.

“Huh?”

“You missed the turn.”

“Shit, sorry.”

He circles around and shifts into park. Right across the street. The tree in Shane’s yard blocking the light from the front porch.

“Thanks,” you say dryly while reaching for the door handle. Ready to crawl into a warm bed. One where the only sound that enters your ears is the crickets in the backyard and the soft inevitable snoring from the handsome deputy holding you nice and close.

“Wait, just-” Daryl’s hand grabs your shoulder and pulls you pack. Snaking His hand around the back of your neck and crashing his lips against yours. Leaned right over the middle console to pull you in even closer. Tongue tracing your lips and deepening the kiss. The faint taste of tobacco and the familiar warmth of his mouth clouds your judgment. Kissing him back despite your relatively steady and semi-serious fling waiting for you on the other side of the red door across the street.

You pull away, eyes still closed and resting your forehead against his.

“Dare…”

“It’s fine.” He whispers. Nose nudging your own as he connects your lips for one last kiss that lingers just a couple seconds too long. A pained, broken look in his ocean eyes passes through when you finally pull away and scowl.

“Don’t. You can’t- you don’t get to do that.”

His jaw clenches and you’re sure he wants to spit some petty ass insult at you. Years of daddy issues and unresolved anger issues catching up to him with every little argument that crosses his path. But he finds it in himself to bite it back. Well not entirely. Just… a little less vulgar.

“Wear a condom,” he sneers, pulling away and falling back against the headrest. A deep sigh leaving his lungs as he chews on the inside of his lip. Already regretting his comment both due to the sheer cruelty of it but also because of the subtle admission of jealousy that he would fucking kill to have flown right above your head. It doesn’t. But the crimson painting his cheeks tells you he really fucking wishes it would. So for his sake, you ignore it and mutter a goodbye as you hop out and shut the car door. Heels clacking on the cement while you make your way to the front porch. Duffel bag in hand and a flutter of butterflies starting to swarm around in your belly.

You don’t even have to knock before the door opens and you’re met with the scent of a musky cologne and those beautiful brown eyes looking you up and down. Plaid pajama pants and a clean black tee shirt pulling you in for a quick embrace as he eyes the old Chevy still idling across the street, Daryl inside, ensuring you actually made it into the house.

“Hey, beautiful,” Shane kisses your cheek. Eyes still fixed on the man gazing over from the tinted truck window.

With a strong, guiding palm on the small of your back, you brush past the officer and head on in. Giving him a moment to set the alarm and lock the door behind you. Oblivious of the way Shane decides to wave at Daryl. Sending him a silent thank you for dropping you off all safe and sound. And maybe a very slight reminder of what he’s about to do to you as soon as that door closes.

And though he doesn’t see it, whether it’s from the tint of the truck or the clouds blocking the moon in the middle of the night, Daryl waves back. A pained, stomach dropping, shaky little wave that he didn’t even really want to return.

Daryl drives home as it starts to rain. Windshield wipers scraping on the cracked glass in front of him as his mind wanders, thinking about how nice it would be to stay in one of the nice, picket fence, suburban homes you’ve always wanted. Thinking about you in a big backyard, sipping on some white wine with a chunky little toddler on your hip. Your husband flipping some burgers and talking to the neighbors about football or the weather or the preschool you’ve been scouting.

It hurts his heart that in his little daydream, it’s not him who’s standing there barbecuing on that deck. It’s not him making small talk with your coworkers or reaching for the babbling little kid in your arms, asking for his daddy.

It’s Shane.

And for a split second, even though it physically hurts his heart. He knows that Shane can give that to you. And that, that simple little revelation is the whole reason he knows why he needed to wave back.

-

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[theodorecanaryhood]

Couple goals

Jason Todd x Male Reader

Warning: some language, sexual references and hints of homophobia

Boredom is a hard thing to overcome when there isn’t anything to do.

Cleaning was done, laundry was done … seemed only channel surfing was left.

It all began during lockdown 2020 when you and Jason took a leap, getting stuck scrolling through TikTok, you both decided to start a joint account.

The Red silhouette challenge, WAP challenge, walk out on each other naked to get their reaction. There wasn’t anything you hadn’t tried.

‘Shall we do the dance in the rain trend?’ Jason asked, you gave a confused look.

‘There isn’t a dance in the rain challenge’ you said as Jason smiled.

‘There should be one, it’s pouring outside, let’s do it’ Jason said as he stripped out of his shirt.

The two of you stood in the rain, both your bare bodies were soaked within seconds, doing a small choreography to the music, Jason smiled as the two of you finished.

The video was viewed by thousands as the other ones before, comments filled in as Jason read through them.

‘You guys are a cute couple’ Jason sat reading the comments from his phone, you cooking as you listened to Jason talking.

‘Gay guys are hot. Couple goals. I want them both’ Jason chuckled as you walked over and rubbed Jason’s shoulders.

‘What does that one say?’ You read over Jason’s shoulder, he leaned in to read it closer.

‘Is anyone going to talk about Jason’s bulge?’ Jason laughed, you snickered as you blushed a little.

‘You love my bulge, in and out of the bedroom’ Jason smirked as he rose to his feet, kissing you gently in the lips.

‘Gross’ you whispered, Jason pecked your cheek again.

‘Not what you said last night’ he winked as he went to the bathroom.

Sitting next to each other on the bed as the camera recorded, Jason lip synced to the lyrics as he then grabbed ahold of your face, leaning in for a kiss.

You welled up with a pain in your chest as you read a comment in your latest TikTok video, Jason grabs and kisses you.

‘What’s wrong baby?’ Jason asked you as he rubbed your back.

You stung inside as your heart beat loudly in your chest, pounding like a sledgehammer.

‘This comment’ you showed your phone screen to Jason, he saw red.

‘These gross, sickening faggots are going to hell. Sodomy is a sin. Queers need to be punished’ Jason read the comment in his head with thunder in his veins.

Jason saw the tears brimming in your eyes, he realised in this moment you’d never experienced anything like this.

Jason had experienced his fair share of homophobic comments, including from his biological father. But you never had.

You grew up in such a loving home and parents who loved everyone equally. You’d never had this before.

‘Come here’ Jason spoke softly as he pulled you in for a hug, kissing you on the head.

You wet Jason’s shoulder as he held onto you tightly, you let go of the sadness as Jason filled you with love.

‘Let’s go for a walk’ Jason spoke sweetly as he rubbed your face, giving you a kiss.

Hand in hand down the streets, Jason loved listening to you talk. The sound of your voice was like music to Jason’s ears.

Streets filled with tons of different types of couples and people, yet Jason felt like it was only you and him.

True couple goals are the ones that other people take more than 3 seconds to notice, Jason smiled as he had his fingers intertwined with yours.

[deadpool15]

Mommy duties

Cassie's POV

I woke up this morning, still tired as hell. Only to look to my left side and see an empty ass bed. "Great way to start a morning sweetie", Cassie says sarcastically. Hitting and kicking and kicking my feet up like that will make this woman magically appear. After a while, I stopped thinking this would be a great time to get in some extra rest." Yes, Cass, look on the bright side, and today will be a great day." I turned her head when I heard a very loud whine, then I opened my eyes clearly and stared at the door hoping and praying it would stop. "And now I have to pee".

I walk outside my bedroom and bend down and see our 3 year old son, Corey. The naming process was a bit much to think about it. With me being American and Bada being korean. I didn't really care about whether the name is korean or american. As long as I could pronounce it, I was fine. Know what you're thinking? You're a terrible mother if you sit there and listen to your son crying and do nothing. I look up and see the cameraman set up with everything, "Don't judge my parenting skills if you don't have kids, you freaks."

Once my precious little Corey looks up and sees me, he gets all happy and jumpy. He starts tapping my leg and bouncing up and down, letting me know he wants to be picked up. Of course, any other time, I would big my big baby up with a smile on my face, but in my current condition, everything is either aching or swollen. "Hello everyone, or good morning, I guess. I'm Cassie Lee. Or wait, last name first, so Lee Cassie. "And this little man," I say as I bend down despite my back pain and pick my son up. "This is Corey Lee, I know I just contradicted myself with the last name again, but it's sounds better like that, yea. I'm the mother, and it's my way or no way. " I say while laughing.

"So, today, we won't really be doing anything to be honest, just like a day in life with us." I look behind me to realize that Corey is hiding behind my leg. I just laugh softly. "You would think with whom his parents are, he would be used to the camera. Welp, I guess not, huh?" I turn around to go my morning routine. I'm brushing my teeth, then having to get Corey ready for the day. As I'm putting him in his outfit, we choose for the day a member of the crew says, "Had you and Bada ever thought of bringing little Corey to daycare, Mrs. Lee". I just chuckle and stare at my son for a minute and then continue. " It's a common thing to put babies in daycare, so it was suggested to us, you know, some women said was good. It would give us a bit of a break. But in my family, daycare wasn't a thing. In fact, the women in my family look down upon them, to be honest. " I said while laughing. They view as mothers trying to get away from their children. I think it's reasonable. Parents go through a lot. I mean me and Bada I just became parents to Corey, so I don't look down upon it like my family. But I can say that for me, I have extreme separation anxiety from my son. Sleeping in separate rooms is like a lot for me. It's hard on Bada to, though, with her working. "

I finish putting on his pants and start kissing all over his face and making my way to the kitchen to feed him. I fix him some rice. It's weirdly his favorite. And eggs with apple slices. "Corey eats some weird combinations, but hey, he is happy, so that's all that matter". I say, turning to the camera and smiling. After a while, he looks around and starts getting crying. "There goes a happy day. He is used to Bada feeding him in the morning." I try to do the train thing she usually does, but he starts crying louder. "Mama... Noo....Mama, "Corey says while trying to get out of his high chair. Yea, this isn't working. As soon as he starts speaking, I realize he doesn't want me, but Bada. He calls me Mommy, and Bada is Mama or Eomma. He does it so he doesn't get confused, I think.

I try to grab him and sooth him by whispering in his ear and rubbing his back, but nothing seems to be working. "Come on, baby, I know, but Mama is at work right now. We can't just cry, though. " I wanna call her, but I know she will be busy on and won't be able to answer. After a while, I just give up, "Corey wanna go see Mama." He finally stops crying to look at me and starts to calm down. Ok, then let's get your shoes on. we are going to go see Mama. He starts running or attempting to run with him being so excited that it seems hard. He brings his shoes and smiles with his big puffy cheeks. "What am I gonna do with you?"

I put on his shoes. And then go put on my dress. Many people expect pregnant women to dress like nuns. And I refuse to do that. I come out fully ready in my dress, showing off my 5-month bump with pride. " I was that bitch before I was pregnant and I still am at 5 months what does that tell you ladies and gentlemen. I've just been that bitch." I say while covering Corey's ears. Then I grab his hand and his bag, making sure to grab a couple of toys. Then I go in the kitchen to pack up his breakfast in a container to give to him when we get there. "Well, let's go, baby".

I walk outside in my sandels cause my feet just aren't made for it anymore. Then I pick up Corey and place his bag in the Corey and then move to scrap him up in his car seat. Then I get in the driver's seat after making sure he is secure. "My mom is always saying he is a toddler now. A big boy needs a booster seat not a car seat. I just let her say whatever and move on. Corey is a small baby I and he likes his car seat. So he shall stay fully secure and safe inside of the seat. I then start driving.

I always get lost when it's time to come to this set. "She has told me a million times where this place is, but I always get lost when I right around the corner." I looked up and saw the exit and finally remembered the area I'm in. "See, my sense of direction just never been there. In my defense, I grew up in New York, and almost no one drives a car there. With how crowded the city is, no one wants to. " I said, looking at the camera. Then, I look up and see the MNET building. "We are finally here. The literal pain I had to go through this morning all for some breakfast is crazy. I said while pulling into the parking lot.

While trying to park, I realized I had to parallel park. "See, I knew getting here was too easy. This whole process seemed way easier than it usually is. Shit. " I turn around and see Corey giggling. "That's a no, no word ok. Don't say that word, baby. " I struggle, then eventually I am able to park the car, without hitting anything. "Funny thing is I didn't know how to drive until I came to Korea. Bada actually taught me, and the driving lessons paid off because I really didn't wanna hit anything. This isn't my car it's hers. So yea. "

I go to get out of the car while making sure to grab my babies bag, of course. Then I reach in the back seat and start to unbuckle Corey from his car seat. And he is smiling all happy. "Yall see the sudden mood change. It's actually quite crazy. He remembers the building now. " I say while smiling back at him and putting him on my hip. Not before reaching the front of the car to grab my water bottle. "We are on the way to see Mama, yay, right?" I started singing with Corey as we make it to the entrance of the building.

The woman at the front desk looks at me and bows. I try to bow as well until she looks down and sees my stomach and starts apologizing. "No, it's fine. I understand. Who exactly are you here to see? Do you have an appointment? "She says while smiling at me and Corey. "He is very adorable ma'am". I look at her smiling and thank her. Corey gets shy and tries to hide in my neck. " I'm here to see Bada Lee. She should be on set right now," she stares at her computer and starts typing before telling me to give her a moment. I nod and wait, and then she looks down at my hand and giggles, "She said her wife might be coming in one of these days." I look at her and laugh. "I don't exactly know if they are filming right now, though Mrs. Lee. Would you like me to inform her? " I just shake my head.

"No, she doesn't know we are here right now. I wanted it to be a little work surprise. " She nods and gets up to show me the way to the set. "We are almost there to see Mama," I say to my son while being so ready to put him down. He gets really clingy with me when he is around strangers. I guess that's my fault. "And here we are, just right there is team BEBE's room. I believe they are still filming. And then they should be making their way to their room right after. " She tells me before smiling and walking away. I bow as much as I can and place down Corey's bag. "We will wait a little while they should be done soon baby".

Bada's POV

After filming my no-respect battle with Redy, I sat down. I just knew she was going to pick me. We have had some tension since we got here. Or at least we do on her part, it seems. We were once a part of a dance crew called Cupcakes together. Then problems happened, and we all went our separate ways. Some of us grew as dancers and others as I could see still carrying those conflicts with them. If she felt I certain type of way, I didn't mean to give her that impression. But I felt better after winning the battle. I sat down and watched Tatter, Lusher, and my other members get into their own no-respect battles. I was proud of them. Ever since we got her, the other crews have been insulting us by saying that the only reason we are famous is because of me. How we have no talent besides me and simply a crew with my talents. Which has been pissing me off, we are all talented, and I'm glad people are seeing that.

After a few more battles, Daniel announced that we would be taking a break, which is much needed right now. I just feel like the teams need a break. Or a stretch, I low-key wanna go home. I miss my wife and my son. Right before I left, I made sure to go inside his room and hug him, which wasn't nearly enough time, in my opinion. Eventually, the cameras turned off for a moment, and everyone stopped with all the fake beefing and started talking with their crews and other crew. "You all were good out there ok, don't overthink. Or think about anything these people are saying you're good dancers and we just have to keep showing them what you all are made of. " I look at my crew while smiling until I hear a bunch of people mumbling about something. Then I see all the crews going to be nosy. I get up and see Halo of Wolf'lo and Mina of Deep N' Dap all excited. The rest of the crews start to gather around.

I make my way over to the circle people with BEBE following right behind me. Then ask Babysleek, "What's going on?" She looks at me and smiles someone on set, brought a cute baby here." I stare at her, trying to figure who's kid is she talking about. Then I look to the side and hear, "O, she is a foreigner. Do you think she speaks Korean. I don't know, probably not. The baby looks like it could be part korean, though. Maybe she is here to visit her husband. Do foreigners always show off their pregnancy? Yea, i think it's not a korean thing for sure. Well, whoever he is, that man is lucky she is gorgeous".

As soon as I hear about a foreigner walking around with her belly showing, I smile. They think she is married to a man, funny. Too bad for the guys here she is mine. Eventually, the crowd moves around, and I see my son. I wait for a while to see if he will spot me before I reach out to him. Then he looks up at everyone smiling, and the crowd starts to have a heart attack. Amazing what babies can do, am I right? He turns over and looks at finally spots me. He starts running towards me, yelling. "Mama, Mama, is here." He says while running towards me. The crowd turns and looks around confused due to his mother being right next to him the whole time, trying to find out who he is calling Mama. Then, when he grabs my leg, everyone looks around, shocked before laughing and gushing at the baby. I hear JJ yelling, "She is actually MOTHER, OMG, I CAN'T TAKE THIS."

I laugh at her before grabbing my son and picking him up. And hugging him while kissing all over his face. He starts giggling and keeps saying Mamma. Then I look over to my wife and say, "What are you doing here, my love?" She stares at me at smiling while holding her hips. "We were waiting for you in the crew room, but I guess Corey got bored." She says while staring at me, biting her lips. I know that look on her face all too well. Then I move towards her and grab her waist, and kiss her. I've never been afraid of PDA, especially when you are married to a woman with curves to spare at this point. I hear everyone start cheering me on as I kiss her. She looks at me and says, "Corey didn't wanna eat because his mamma wasn't there to feed him, like she usually is." I look at her, then glance down at her outfit and start to bite my lips.

I grab her hand while still carrying Corey, and we make our way towards the crew room. We then sit down, and Corey jumps out of my arms and starts to play with his toys. I then turned around to grab her hips before she could make her way to sit on the couch. "You caused a whole show out there, didn't you, baby?" She looks at me and smiles." I was trying to wait for you to help with our parent duties, or did you forget Ma'am?" I squeezed her hips while kissing her neck. "Yes, of course I remember Mrs. Lee, you look way to good in this dress baby". She laughs at me and tries to back up before I grab her again. "What do you have a pregnancy kink or something?". I grab her neck and continue kissing her.

"No, but I definitely have a you kink. Walking around looking so good. The entire set got a glance at you before me, I don't know how to feel about that baby. You just look too good to be seen by anyone other than me. " She finally managed to push me off of her and says "I would like you to tend to you to our son, and maybe, just maybe Mama will get an award. " I look at her nodding and smirking. "I'm getting that sweetheart. Just know that. That dress is the reason you're gonna be crying later. Just wanna warn you, baby. " I say while picking up Corey, getting ready to feed him.

"Yea, yea, whatever, Mrs. Lee, "she says before smiling at me and sitting in a chair while slowly opening her legs and showing me she isn't wearing any underwear. I hold onto our son a little tighter before chuckling, "Yea, you're going to get it. I'm gonna make you beg me to stop".

"I guess we'll see, won't we Mrs. Lee". She says as I continue to feed Corey. "Yes, we will, Mrs. Lee. We surely fucking will".

(Just in case yall were confused, Cassie was filming for one of those korean parents' shows, that's why the camera was following her and her son)

[sitkowski]

sink with me ( girl!noah x f!reader )

kinksgiving day one: shibari

pairing: girl!noah x f!reader cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ genderbent characters (always a girl noah), dominant f!reader, mentions of sex work, shibari, orgasm denial, kink negotiations, subby noah, hair pulling, face slapping, mommy kink, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, strap ons, aftercare. word count: 2.8k author's note: leftovers from kinktober that i never finished! so, happy kinksgiving. this one was fun as hell to write and soon i will have genderbent all the omens...title comes from "forever sinking" by ocean sleeper. divider by @saradika-graphics 🪢bless @darksigns-exe for the inspo of girl!noah's tattoo <3

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || read on ao3 (coming soon)

The knock on your apartment door disturbs your bath. Reaching out of the tub, you pick your phone to check the time. Your client is almost thirty minutes early. Mild frustration bubbles beneath your skin and you lift yourself out of the water. You pull the plug and grab your robe, seeing no point in rushing to the door. They knew what time they were supposed to be there. If they didn’t want to remember the time, they’d have to come in and wait for you while you prepare.

“You better have a damn good reason for not remembering the rules, Noah.” you say when you open your apartment door.

Noah, usually so full of anger and swagger on stage, stares at you with a cute little dumbfounded expression. “I don’t…I just got antsy.”

It’s not a good enough answer, and she knows it. She’ll pay for it. Which is probably exactly what she wanted in the first place.

“Okay, well I could make you just sit out here for the next half hour,” you see the protest forming on Noah’s lips, and as tempting as it is to listen to her plead her case, you roll your eyes and step aside. “Or you can just park it on the sofa while I finish getting ready.”

“Thank you.” she murmurs gratefully.

You let Noah walk past you, your gaze softening once she’s not looking. She obviously showed up early for a reason, and though you won’t let her see it, you’re a little worried about her. Closing the door and turning the lock, you look over your shoulder to watch as Noah does exactly what she was told to do. She sits down on your sofa, and she waits.

“I won’t be long. Don’t move from that spot.”

You’ve seen all types come through your door and honestly, Noah is no different from any of them. Everyone needs the same thing; a distraction, you give them a semblance of control that they’re missing somewhere in their lives. And you’re more than happy to provide that. Even for the front woman of an up and coming band who is probably drowning beneath the pressures of newfound fame.

Leaving her in the safety of your living room, you walk down the hall to your room, not bothering to close the door behind you. Noah prefers her scenes in the living room, and you have a selection of items laying on the end of the bed that you’d planned to bring out before she arrived. You take your time putting on a simple lingerie set, something decadent in red that Noah will like. Instead of putting back on the robe that you’d had on when your bath was ruined, you find another one, something in silk that you don’t bother to tie off as you gather the items from their place.

When you come back out in the living room, you see that Noah is exactly where you left her, elbows propped up on her knees, chin in one of her palms. Her eyes raise slowly as you enter the room, but you ignore her in favor of depositing things on the coffee table before her; a length of rope that matches the same shade of red as your lingerie, a set of safety scissors, and a harness and dildo that Noah always picks out when she comes to see you. You watch the way she looks over each item greedily, before looking up at you again.

“This is what you were hoping for, correct?” you ask. She nods and you make a face at her. “Words, Noah. You know you’ve got to make it through this part before you get anything you want.”

“Yes mommy,” she says without missing a beat.

“So, you want me to use all of this on you?”

“Yes,” her answer is automatic, and you nod in approval. “I’d like that very much.”

Giving her another nod, you gesture for her to stand. She’s taller than you, but you’ve never let that stop you before. A snap of your fingers and she shrugs out of her jacket and then her hoodie, leaving each piece of clothing in a careful pile in the chair by the sofa. You watch as fabric gives way to inked skin, and you wonder how many people get to see this much of her on a regular basis. You only know so much. As much as Noah lets you. It would be cliche to say that she’s one of your favorites, but it might be true.

“Turn around for me, Noah.”

She does as you ask and you step up behind her to pull her hair back off of her shoulders, twisting the strands into a loose braid. Your fingertips trace over her back piece, just an outline of Joan of Arc for now but it’ll be something when it’s done. Noah shivers under your touch, and turns back around when you’re finished. Her hands hang loosely by her sides, and she meets your gaze head on.

“Safeword?”

“Traffic lights.” Noah says.

“Hard limits tonight?” She chews on her bottom lip, obviously hesitant to say what she doesn’t want. Usually she’s more prepared than this. “It’s okay, Noah.”

“No name calling, nothing degrading at least,” she says at last.

You nod. “Okay. What are your soft limits?”

“Slapping? And…pulling my hair.”

It’s pretty tame, by your standards, but it’s your goal to make sure that she’s comfortable with you, that she feels safe and she gets what she wants out of this. Honestly, your pleasure is secondary, unless Noah’s in a mood. She’s left you a complete mess more than once because that was all she wanted.

Tonight, she’s the one who will be a mess.

“Find your position.”

It would be easy just to have Noah kneel, but since she’s going to be tied up, you need her to start out in a place that you’ll be able to tie her then move her. She edges into the middle of the room and sits down on the floor, stretching a little bit before pulling her legs up and resting her arms on her thighs. This position will leave her fully exposed and one good push would send her right over on her back once you’ve tied her.

Picking up the rope, you walk over and crouch down in front of her. She straightens her shoulders, and you reach out to run your fingers down her inked throat. “Color?”

“Green.” she says confidently.

You shrug out of your robe and unwind the rope. Noah’s eyes never leave your face as you first tie her forearms and wrists, and then tie her wrists to her thighs. Each turn of the rope seems to make something soften in her, making her pliant, until you’re looking at her and you see that her eyes are closed now. She breathes deeply through her nose, exhales slowly through her mouth. You take a separate section to tie her torso, around her breasts and down to her waist. Finally, you tie her where her elbows are cinched on the bottom of that rope, leaving her bound from her shoulders down to just above her knees.

“Try and move for me, Noah?”

She tries to lift her arms, but can’t. If she wanted, she could stretch out her legs, but it would just change her balance and she’d fall forward. Her only option is to keep her legs bent at the knees. You make a noise of approval, sliding your hands up her inner thighs, pushing her legs open wider. You trace your fingers over the tattooed skin that shows between the columns of rope. Her chest rises and falls with each breath and you move to your knees. You let her take as long as she needs to settle, and then you slide your hand further down between her legs. Her gasp of surprise is cute, as if she weren’t expecting it. You take your time, teasing your fingers into her slowly.

“I think you’re gonna make a mess on my floor,” you say, and you see the way Noah’s cheeks go red.

If it were a different night when she’d want you to be mean to her, you could probably make her cry about it. But that isn’t what she’s after and instead of degrading her for it, you just curl your fingers higher inside of her and lean in so that your tongue teases over the skin around the ropes on her chest. Your tongue swirls around her nipple, teeth gently closing on it. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Noah's hands clenched into fists when she realizes she can't touch. When you look up at her, her eyes are wide, her mouth open a little. She's doing her best to stay still as you touch her, because squirming is only going to put her off balance.

“Can I come?” Noah asks, and you sit back, moving your fingers faster. Your thumb brushes over her clit and her jaw clenches. “Mommy, please, can I—”

“No.” you say, pulling out your fingers.

She lets out a noise of disappointment and you can see the way her limbs are trembling already. Slowly you count to ten before letting your fingers slide back inside of her. Noah makes a move like she wants to shift away, already dripping again down your hand, but holds herself still again as you bring her close to her climax for the second time. Just as she’s on the edge, you pull away and this time her cry of protest is louder.

The slap to her cheek isn’t hard, if anything it was nothing more than a pat. Noah sucks in a deep breath and you grab onto her chin with fingers wet with her own slick. “Color?”

“Green,” she gasps out.

“We’re gonna move now, okay? Turn around and shuffle back, just like that.”

Noah’s moved now so that she can lean back into the love seat, her back supported by a cushion you put down behind her. The move also puts her legs higher and you tap on her inner thighs for her to open them wider. When you sink your fingers back inside, a sob-like sound comes out of her mouth and she does squirm this time, rocking down on your hand as much as the ropes will let her. You feel her clenching around your fingers, trying to keep you there even though you’re going to pull away yet again.

“Yellow,” Noah says and you immediately pull away. “Sorry, sorry, I was going to—and I don’t want to disappoint you.”

You frown because that’s not the direction you want to go at all. Scooting closer, you tip her chin up so she meets your eyes. “You could never disappoint me, Noah, you were doing so good. I wouldn’t have punished you for it…much.”

This brings a bashful smile to her face and she shifts around a little. You give her a few minutes to settle again, lightly tracing your fingers over her arms and thighs.

“How are you feeling? Anything bothering you?” you ask. You cannot wait to see the marks when you undo the rope later.

Noah shakes her head. “I’m ready to continue when you are, back to green.”

You take her at her word; despite the light sheen of sweat on her tattooed skin and the wild look in her eyes, you’ve done this enough times to be able to tell that she’s okay. But instead of touching her again, you lean back. “I think it’s time for something else, gotta give the needy girl what she really wants, right?”

She nods in agreement, and you smile indulgently, getting up long enough to undress and grab the rest of the supplies from the table. She gazes up at you as you slip on the harness and adjust everything correctly. You know that you could play this up, have her go down on you—on the fake cock that she’s currently eying greedily—but instead you kneel back down. Her frustration at not being able to touch you is palpable as she squirms around, and you hook her braid around your hand and tug.

“Be still for me, Noah, you’ve been so good so far.” You say, the hint of a warning clear in your voice.

“Sorry, mommy,” she murmurs, looking up at you. You don’t buy the innocent act at all, but you twist the braid again until she gasps, trying to arch away. “I’m sorry!”

You believe her now, and you let go, tapping the end of her nose with your finger. “That’s my girl. Now, sit up a bit for me?”

She does as you ask and you pull the cushion out from behind her, tossing it on the floor and then tipping Noah over. She lets out a little laughing protest, and it’s a little amusing watching her try to get into a position by herself. Eventually you give in and help her so that the pillow is up under her hips, her shoulders pressed to the floor. She’s always liked to have her eyes on you, and you won’t deny her that.

Reaching down, you wrap your hand around the dildo and feel absolutely nothing. It’s always a mindfuck for you, and you like it, the curious disconnect that comes with giving someone pleasure from something that only gives you a little bit of an after effect. But it’s in the way that Noah’s eyes go glassy and wide as you slowly push into her that gives you more of a powerful feeling. In your mind, no one else can do this for her, make her feel like this.

“Does it feel good, Noah?” you ask once it’s fully inside, your hips flush to the back of her thighs. The ropes graze your skin and you slide your fingers beneath them for leverage. “Is this what you needed?”

“Green, really fucking green,” she gasps out.

You’re glad she’s remembering to check in with you even when you don’t ask for it, and you reward her by pulling almost all the way back out and using your grip on the rope to yank her back down. She yelps and her fingers scrabble at nothing, still tethered to her thighs, and you know it must be frustrating that she can’t do anything. But that’s the entire point, she’s given you all of the control here, and you happily take it to give her exactly what she needs.

Each thrust of your hips draws a new sound out of her and you don’t even try to drag it out now, hips pistoning into hers. You take pity on her and lace your fingers through hers on one hand, giving her something to hold on to while you take her apart. Your other hand reaches down, thumb teasing over her clit in quick circles.

“Come whenever you want to, Noah.” You say, not expecting her to last much longer.

Her fingernails dig into the back of your hand and she arches up off the floor when she finally falls over the edge, tears spilling down her cheeks. As soon as she goes lax beneath you, you pull away slowly so as not to overstimulate her to the point of pain. Looking down at her, trying to catch her breath, eyes still clenched shut, you know she got exactly what she needed when she came here tonight.

“I’m going to get the scissors now, okay?” you rub a hand over her stomach to get her attention from wherever she’s drifting in her mind. She nods once. “Stay still for me.”

You get up long enough to take off the harness and grab the safety scissors from the table. Noah’s exactly how you left her, eyes still closed, when you kneel back down. You cut her arms free first, slowly rubbing your hands over the skin to make sure she’s still got the feeling in them. Each piece of rope that falls to the floor makes her breathing even out, and eventually she’s watching you as you remove the final pieces from her thighs.

Leaning over her, you place a soft kiss on her lips.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and you smile, helping her sit up.

“I’m thinking you need a bath, and a big glass of water. Are you okay to move?”

Noah looks down at her thighs, tracing her fingers over the indentations left behind from the rope. She shivers when you do the same to the marks on her chest. It’s always been one of your favorite parts of after, seeing what’s been left behind.

“What about you?”

“Oh, that’s also what the bath is for,” you say as you undo her tangled braid. “You interrupted mine after all. I think you’ve still got to pay for that.”

Noah smirks as she manages to let you pull her to her feet. “Whatever you want.”

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[t0xicityz]

Why So Quiet?<3

_______________________________________________

_______________________________________________

PAIRING: Minghao x Fem!Reader<3

SUMMARY: minghao was quiet never talked and was cold to a lot of people but seems like it was different for you I wonder why.

WARNINGS: kinda NSFW, Bullying, harassment?

GENRE: angst, fluffy, slight smut

A/N: omg hey gals how have you pretty people been I totally didn’t leave you guys hanging lol

_______________________________________________

Minghao was sitting in the library chilling while listening to music when a bunch of his classmates sat right next to him and tried to to start a conversation with him but like always he was silent and didn’t even make the slightest sound, they groaned before just talking amongst eachother.

“Minghao the teacher wants to see you in her class right now.” There you were. He found you quite interesting to say the least but never talked to you either even though he kinda wanted too.

Minghao nodded before gathering his stuff while he was doing you were about to leave but someone roughly griped onto your hand. “Yah who told you that you can speak to us huh? Are you stupid or what?” They started laughing while you stood there not a care in the world. “If I ever see you talking to my boyfriend I’ll fuck you up bitch.” She threatens while slapping my hand away, before you can say anything minghao walked up to you and did something no one could ever make him do.

He talked.

“___ was it? Do you know who wanted to see me?” The library went silent everyone was shocked as they turned their heads towards you guys. “Oh uh.. it was Ms Clair..” you were to shocked to say a full sentence but still kinda managed. “YAH MINGHAO TALK TO ME YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!” Then all hell broke loose as everyone ran up to him as everyone wanted to hear him again.

You just stood there kinda shocked you were the one to make him talk but snapped out of it when the bell rang so you quickly made your way through the crowd and kinda sprinted to your class, just as you were about to walk into your class a guy and a few girls called out to you. “Hey! Is it true you made minghao talk?” They said as they made their way to you. “Uh I did but he just wanted to know who wanted to talk to him.”

“Well stop talking to him you’re not special just go to class and stop talking to minghao he doesn’t want you nor will he ever ok?” They laughed but was cut off by someone. “___ thanks for the heads up about and Clair she gave me extra credit for my work.” He slightly smiled at you before patting your head.

“Minghao what about me your ACTUAL girlfriend talk to me babyy” this random bitch walked up to him and leaned into his arm as she was about to kiss his cheek but before she could she was thrown off of him but the man himself, he didn’t say anything just walked off as he patted your head one more time. “I’ll see you next period ___.” They were shocked at his reaction before they quickly turned to you. “What the Fuck did you do to him you Whore are you that desperate you had to make him think he likes you.!”

She stood up and was about to hit you but was stopped by one of minghao’s friends. “ minghao wouldn’t be happy if you touch his friend Melanie.” She scoffed as she pulled her hand back from his grip. “I don’t care because he will believe me over any of you guys.! When I beat this bitch up I’ll just say it’s self defence!”

You walked away like nothing happened, as you were walking away mingyu minghao’s friend ran up to you and gave you a little smile. “Are you alright?” You scoffed as you walked into the classroom. “No of course I’m not I nearly got hit by those obsessed weirdos” he slightly chuckled before nodding. “I get it it’s hard to deal with this type of people but don’t worry I got your back!” He gave you the brightest smile before walking away.

You sigh before continuing on with the class, right after class finished you walked out only to bump into minghao. “Oh..hey” you awkwardly said as you brushed yourself off, when you looked at him you were frozen in place this guy was sweating and was shirtless after finishing P.E, you were a stuttering mess before you could make a fool out of yourself even more he chuckled as he patted your head.

“Hey ___ you know you’re really cute when you’re flustered.” You were screaming in the inside oh did I forget to mention you kinda have a little crush on him. You were about to say something but was cut off by a girl pushing you out of the way. “Baby! How was gym? You probably worked so hard.”

She pouted as she was about to hug him but minghao was like flash because before she could even touch him he was by your side in a flash and the girl was on the floor. “Ow babe.! Why did you do that??” She stomped her feet as she stood up, he gave her a blank stare before grabbing onto your wrist and dragged you with him somewhere.

You were shocked but curious where you guys were going. “Uh minghao where are we—WOAH-!” Before you could finished you were pushed into the storage closet. “If you’re going to kill me make it less painful!” You blurted out scared he was going to actually kill you.

He chuckled before gently grabbing onto both your hands and intertwining them with his, you were a hot mess when he leaned down to whisper into your ear. “I really want you ___ so bad right now.” You were already whimpering as your legs started feeling weak.

“Minghao stop I’m-Mmph!” You wanted to say something but he smacked his lips onto yours before you could. “Do you want me too___?” You were blankly staring at him before you slightly nodded.

“Good because I’m gonna show you how much your body means to me Princess.”

[elletheactualmenace]

You Would do That for Me? - 5

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!fem!reader

Summary: Secrets are reviled and feelings realized.

Warnings: Mentions of physical assault (a bit in this chapter), Slight verbal bullying, swearing, crying,

Word Count: 3k

a/n: So because the poll was a tie, I’m posting the one I’ve actually finished. The next part for Was it Worth it? Will be out hopefully soon. Anyways enjoys this and don’t mind spelling errors because I’m to tired to look through it.

Thoughts = “Italicized dialogue”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

You would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t been thinking about Peter. A lot. It’s like he’s haunting your mind. Thinking about the fake relationship, thinking about how he asked you what you need his help with in the fake relationship, even the way he looks at you. God, he’s taken over your every thought.

During first period Flash leaves you alone, that’s one less thing to deal with. But your brain notices the open space and decides to fill it with thoughts of Peter. 

The next period you have with Peter it gets worse. You just stare at him. Thoughts about his outfit, past conversation, everything.

“His hair looks nice today.” You think, you head lazily resting in your hand. “What the hell am I thinking?” You think to yourself pulling your hand from supporting your head. You take a deep breath and try to shake the thoughts.

“I can’t think like that, this is a fake relationship! What are you thinking?” You scold yourself, but your eyes stay on the back of his head. 

You continue on a spree of thinking of him and scolding yourself for it. It happens for every period you are in together. You hope no one notices, especially not Peter. You want to look away, to keep it safe. But your mind gets away from you. You zone out during your classes. You want to slap yourself.

You sigh when the bell rings. You smile as you pass Peter to get to the door. He smiles back over his shoulder as he collects his things. You swear his smile makes your heart stop for a second.

“Bye,” you say breathlessly as you look back at him. You hope he doesn’t notice your out of character blushing.

“Bye,” he grins back as you walk out the door. 

As you step out of the classroom you let out a large breath. You didn’t even know you were holding your breath. What is going on with you? Having a crush on Peter is a thing of the past. It is a thing of the past isn’t it? 

”Fuck,” You think, “Stop thinking about Peter and get to class.” You bite your lip. reprimanding yourself.

——

Happy picks you all up and you drive to your house. The drive is so long but the time seems to cut in half with people to talk to.

Soon you all settle into the theater room. Everyone, clearly, by their faces, were surprised at the extravagance of your house. You agree to watch the Sixth Sense, and Promise Ned a tour of your dads lab.

Peter takes his seat next to you and you both sit almost leg to leg. Your eyes flicker to him when you feel his hand brush against your leg. You want to watch the movie, but it's getting hard to listen to the characters.

You want to move closer, you want to be closer. It’s like Peter’s drawing you in. You bite your lip, eyes still on the screen. What should you do? You don’t want to embarrass yourself. What if Peter doesn’t want you closer?

Your hand furthest from Peter taps against the couch’s arm rest as you think. 

“Shit shit shit. What should I do? Ugh, this is the stupidest thing to be having an inner conflict about.” You think as you huff out. 

“Fuck it.” You say to yourself and finally scoot closer to Peter so your legs are touching. You bite your lip, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes he doesn’t say anything. Or worse, push you away.

You feel his arm move.

”Oh god, what did I do?” You think as your fist clenches and your teeth let go of your lip. Your body tenses, you're freaking out.

His arm wraps around you. You feel your face heat up and your palms get sweaty, but your body relaxes a bit. He- did he? Oh god. He did. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You quickly bite back the smile, trying not to get spotted. Your breathing increases as you bite back the grin.

Peter then slowly begins to pull his arm away and without thinking you take his hand to pull his arm back. You don’t care that your palm is sweaty against his skin. You don’t want him to pull away. You breathe heavily as you look down at his arm around you. 

Slowly you lean back, so you’re resting against Peter. You let your head fall to his shoulder. You bite back the excited noise threatening to erupt from your vocal cords when he nuzzles his head against your hair.

Your heart beats so fast and butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

“Why does he make me feel like this? So happy, so nervous? God, I feel like a little girl.” You think as you try to slow your breathing so Peter doesn’t notice. 

“But I don’t think I care right now.” You admit to yourself as you let your eyes close. You just let yourself get lost in his touch, the way you can smell his shampoo and his cheap cologne. You let your fingers intertwine with his. This feeling he gives you, the nervousness, the giddiness, you don’t understand it. All you know is you want to keep feeling it.

Peter's thumb slowly brushes over your intertwined hands. The feeling makes your breathing soften and your heart rate slow.

You feel your eyes get heavy. Peter's soft touch and the lowlights of the room lul your eyes closed. Usually you’d be embarrassed to fall asleep in front of people, but right now you don’t even care.

——

You stir as you hear quiet laughing from above you and the flash of a camera. You groan out as you reach up to rub your eyes. Not wanting to get up you try to hide your face away from the camera by nuzzling into the surface you’re laying against.

Peter shuffles awake as he feels you nuzzle into him, his grip on your tightens as he covers his eyes from the flashing lights.

”What-“ Peter starts but it cuts off.

”Wake up, love birds.” Ned laughs as he takes another photo with the flash on. MJ snickers as she watches.

“Go away.” You mumble out as you bury your face deeper into- “Peter?” You think as your eyes shoot open. Suddenly you aren’t so tired anymore. Your body shoots up as you let go of Peter, heat rises over your face and only intensifies as you realize what Ned and MJ are doing. 

Peter follows shortly after with his own heated cheeks and embarrassed look. New stops taking photos but continues laughing with MJ.

”You two really did cuddle, huh?” MJ asks with a smirk, you scoff and push her away. 

“Leave us alone.” You huff out as you stand to turn the lights in the theater room on. “When did the movie end?” You ask.

”Ten minutes ago.” Ned answers you as he sits back down.

”Did you have to take photos?” Peter asks, his face red.

”Yes, otherwise no one would believe you have a girlfriend Peter.” MJ laughs. Peter rolls his eyes.

”God, you two are annoying.” You huff out. You try to push away the shyness of being caught as you pull Peter up from the couch. “Let's go somewhere else Peter.” You grumble as you pull him over to the door.

”Use protection!” MJ calls after you, and you roll your eyes with a blush. Peter gulps as he hears her, but he lets you pull him along.

As you step out of the room you roll your eyes and flip her off. MJ just laughs and goes to sit down to put on another movie.

”Those two,” You chuckle as you let go of Peter and let him follow you. You walk and keep my head down. You’re still very embarrassed with, 1 getting caught cuddling with Peter, and 2, cuddling closer while MJ and Ned took horrible blackmail photos. 

Peter's mouth quirks into a smile and he nods. There is still a faint blush on his cheeks.

”Where are we going?” Peter asks as he slowly follows next to you.

”Not sure, just away from them, that was so embarrassing.” You say as you rub the back of your neck.

“I know,” He agrees. You smile to yourself, you’re kind of happy you got caught. It means you both have to acknowledge it. You both can’t run away from it, or make it more awkward.

”It was nice though.” You comment as you continue strolling down the halls. You’re not really going in any particular direction.

”It- yeah it was.” Peter smiles as he looks down at you. You can’t help the butterflies that fill your stomach as he gazes at you. You have to look away. Peters not helping the sudden reappearance of your old feelings for him.

”Wait.” You think. “I like him again? No- I mean, sure he’s nice and handsome and his eyes are really- Oh god.” You sigh as you realize you’re not fooling anyone. Fuck. You have feelings for Peter again. 

“But I don’t want to assume he feels the same. Last time he didn’t.” You mentally groan. “I won’t say anything. Unless he makes a move, I won’t do anything.” You decide as you suck in your bottom lip in thought and keep walking beside Peter.

“Convincing for our, you know, situation.” You add on, softly, trying to not say anything drastic. Peter stutters out his agreement. “Right, right, of course.” 

You both continue walking in silence. You glance over every once and a while but for the most part keep your eyes ahead. Peter's presence is nice, and the comfortable silence between you is enjoyable for both parties.

Approaching a door you push a button to open it. A cool breeze hits your face as you step outside. The sky is dark, the sun just having set. Peter follows next to you as you lead him to a bench along the building.

”Y/n- there was something I’ve been wanting to ask you.” Peter starts as you both take a seat. Your brow scrunches as you look over at him.

”When- when we first were talking about this,” He gestures in between you both. “Relationship…thing,” He stumbles over his words. You just keep your eyes on him.

”We both agreed because, well, we both needed help with something.”

“Oh.” You think as you turn to look forward and try to take small breaths. 

“I need to get Flash off my back, and you- well you told me but I-“ Peter sighs. “I didn't hear and I feel really shitty for not listening, but what did you need help with?” Peter asks as he looks at you.

“Um, right.” You say as you glance at him anxiously.

”Fuck. What was I going to say? I know I came up with something.” You think as you tap your foot on the ground.

”I needed-“ Suddenly you felt a wave of dread wash over you. “Umm, well I-“ You try again, but you feel your throat close up. Why is this so hard, what is going on with you?

”I can’t remem-“ You can’t even finish the sentence as your thoughts get flooded with Derek, Otis and Logan. You lick your lip anxiously. Why can’t you just say it? Why are you getting so worked up?

”Hey, are you okay?” Peter asks as his hand reaches out to gently grab your arm to get your attention. You wince and pull away too quickly for it to be normal. Peter’s hands immediately go up, trying to show you he means no harm. His face is etched with worry and concern. Why did you wince, and why did you flinch?

”Y/n?” Peter asks slowly. You look away, keeping your head down. How had you let him see that? He’s already asking you questions. What will happen if he finds out? That would be shameful. 

“I-“ You try. You stumble over a response.

”Are you okay? Did-“ Peter takes a breath. “Something happen?” Peter says as he tries to move so he can see your face. You turn your head further from his view. You try to will away the tears welling in your eyes. You breathe heavily as you try to keep your eyes open, hoping that somehow the cool wind will dry them out.

”Y/n?” Peter asks again. “Will you please look at me?” He asks. You shake your head. And Peter doesn’t know what to do. “Is this what- you know what?” Peter cuts himself off. “You don’t have to- explain anything to me right now.” Peter says as he raises his hand to graze your back comfortingly. 

He doesn’t say anything else. He just lets his hand rub soothing circles into your back. He doesn’t comment as you let out a quiet sob. You cover your mouth and squeeze your eyes shut. 

”Stop being too emotional, nothing has happened. Just- god stop being so pathetic.” You scold yourself as another sob slips from your throat. More tears fall past your waterline and you don’t even bother wiping them away because they just keep coming.

Peter feels like crying himself as he hears you sob. He sighs heavily as sucks on the side of his cheek. He doesn’t stop his hand. He knows how hard talking can be sometimes.

You try to slow your breathing. You turn a bit to glance at Peter. Peter tilts his head so he can look at you. Suddenly another wave of emotions hit you as your eyes lock with Peter. You cave and lean into Peter. He immediately understands and wraps you in a hug. He shushes you as you cling to his shirt tightly. He lets you cry into his shoulder and leans his head on the top of your head. 

You sniffle as you pull back slightly. “Im sorry, I don’t know-“

”It’s okay.” Peter says as he gently rubs your shoulder, avoiding your hurt arm.

”Is this the thing you need help with?” Peter asks carefully. You look down, and that's all Peter needs. He nods slowly.

”Who’s- doing this?” Peter whispers as he looks at you with furrowed brows. “What are they doing?”

You breathe slowly. Should you tell him? What will happen? This is why you agreed to this. To get his help. 

“Some guys, they-“ You stammer out. “They grab me- um and,” You words get caught in your throat. “They say things and they make comments and won’t let me leave,” You mumble as a tear falls.

”Oh god.” Peter says as he hugs you again. He pulls back a bit to look at you, he tilts your chin so you will look at him.

”Hey, it's okay. I'm here to help you now.” Peter says as you look up at him. You nod and sniffle. You feel a sense of relief come over you.

”I'm sorry you’ve felt the need to keep this to yourself.” Peter voices.

“I just feel so helpless, and it makes me feel-“ You let out a huff of frustration. “So weak, and I don’t want people to think that I am weak.”

Peter nods in understanding. “You’re not weak. It takes a lot of strength to let people in like this.” Peter reassures you.

You sigh and move to stand from the bench. You wrap your arms around yourself as you stand facing away from him. Peter quickly follows you. 

“Y/n.” Peter tries.

”Can we stop- just stop talking about this right now?” You ask as you look down.

”Of course.” Peter says as he moves to stand in front of you. “But you can’t just close up. Okay?” He asks.

You nod. “Okay.”

Peter smiles softly. “Good.” Peter steps closer and you look up.

”I want you to know,” Peter starts as he leans in closer. “And then I swear I’ll stop talking about it.” Peter moves his hands slowly to cup your cheek, you don’t move to push him away.

“I promise you, I’ll protect you. None of them will ever hurt you again.” Peter whispers as he leans in as his thumbs stroke your cheek. “Never.” He breathes out.

”Thank you.” You whisper.

”You don’t have to thank me.” Peter says as his eyes soften.

”But I want to. You don’t have to help me.” You comment.

”You helped me with Flash,” Peter reasons. “And even if you didn’t, I would never let anyone hurt you.”

His eyes locked with yours. You lean towards him too. Inching closer and closer. You feel his hot breath against your cold skin. The distance closes, and Peter's pink lips press against yours. Your breath hitches as your eyes flutter closed. Your lips mold together, body’s relaxing in the others hold. 

Your lips tingle, as his lips move against yours. Your cold cheeks heat up into a blush. You can’t help but lean into him more. And Peter takes the weight, like you're weightless, holding you up. 

When he finally pulls away he leans his forehead against yours. Your breathing is heavy and so is his. You just look into his eyes. And he smiles as he looks into yours. He pulls his hands down and away from your face.

”I don’t know if I want this to be a fake relationship anymore.” You say quietly.  You see Peter's eyes widen but a faint smile paints his lips.

“Me too.” Peter admits. You’re not sure what to say but you keep him close.

”Start over?” You ask softly, your hands wrapping around his shoulders. It’s a bit awkward but Peter doesn’t mind, almost pushing himself closer to you.

”Yeah,” He smiles. “So, uh, Y/n Stark, do you wanna, go out with me?” Peter asks with a small, awkward smile. 

“I’d like that, Peter Parker.” You smile up at him. God, what have you gotten yourself into?

Tag List:

@riordanness

@princess-ofthe-pages

@Sunnyx07

@hollandweather

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[qwerty019283ytrewq]

You're not a honey badger...

✨️Imagine✨️

1)

Max is standing in the doorway watching Daniel dancing to the music in the kitchen and trying to cook them breakfast. The Australian shakes his hips and shakes his head to the beat. He has not noticed the Dutch yet, although he only needs to raise his head. Max quietly approaches him, trying to walk slowly and carefully, but the whole idea is interrupted when Daniel still looks at him. He tries so hard there that he abruptly lets go of the knife, jumps away from the table, and raises his hands.

"What the hell?!"

The red panda. Yes, he looks like a red panda.

2)

Shooting another stupid Youtube video. Max finishes his second Red Bull of the day and tries to listen to a bunch of people who say what he will have to do for filming.

All their words pass Max by because he is focused on Daniel. Dan is chewing on the laces of his hoodie. Dan walks around the set. Dan makes faces at the camera, which doesn't work. Dan claps his hands, ruffles Yuki's hair, dodges Yuki's punches, giggles, jumps...Right now he's standing behind Max and pointing in his back.

Max turns around, puts his hands on the Australian's shoulders and makes eye contact.

"Sit down!" Max presses on Daniel's shoulders and Daniel sits down on a chair that is conveniently right behind him.

Max returns to the group of people responsible for this shooting and hears Dan's foot beating a familiar rhythm only to him. "He's like a restless puppy", Max thinks.

3)

There are good days, and there are not so good days. Daniel's car couldn't get into the points again, and Max's car turned into a lawn mower. Reporters were asking them the same questions again, about Daniel's resignation and Max's move to Mercedes. They were both exhausted over the weekend and were just enjoying the peace of their apartment.

They have been lying on the couch in the living room for five hours now and watching a documentary about some kind of jungle. Max is awake and asleep, but what remains constant is Dan's hugs. All the time they were lying on the couch, Daniel hugged Max with all his limbs, and when the Dutch was about to go to the toilet, Dan whimpered and refused to let him go. Only the reminder that they would have to throw out Daniel's favorite couch if the Australian didn't let Max take a leak made Dan unclench his hands. But he stuck back as soon as Max returned. He hugged his koala back tightly and kissed his curls. This is definitely one of the best days in recent months.

4)

They rarely go anywhere other than racing and their factories. But they were going to the club that day, Martin refused to be friends with them anymore if they didn't go.

Max was standing in front of the mirror and straightening his hair when Daniel's strong arms wrapped around his waist. The Australian rested his head on Max's shoulder and looked at him through the mirror.

"Hi, beauty, you're resting here alone?" Daniel said in a low voice and pushed his hips forward.

"Daniel, we're going to be late."

"It's not my fault that you look so beautiful. You should be banned from wearing that fucking T-shirt. It's hugging your torso too tight, everyone's going to stare at you."

Max pulled away from Dan's embrace and looked at his outfit appraisingly. Black skinny jeans, a black shirt with two buttons unbuttoned, a chain accentuating Daniel's strong neck.

"If anyone is going to be stared at, it's you."

"They'll stare at you, they'll stare at me, they won't let us rest." Dan hugged Max again and said in a low and drawling voice

"Imagine how great we can spend time at home. I'll make you a Gin and tonic, I can do anything else. Hmm?"

"You're snake tempter, Ricciardo. Your words are sweet, but the taxi is already waiting for us."

5)

Someone started this conversation again. Max is already used to it. Both, he and Daniel know that it's better not to get involved in something like this, but Daniel has already drunk three shops and two cocktails, so he took part in the dispute no matter what.

"Come on, buddy, your self-driving car is no longer a self-driving car, so you can't win anymore. Admit it, you're not as legendary as you want to seem."

Max wasn't going to be legendary, he just liked racing, he liked winning and he was good at it... until recently. Daniel, who had been laughing at some stupid joke before, suddenly became serious. His smile disappeared, his brows furrowed, and he could be seen clenching his teeth. Max lazily noted that it was worth reminding the Australian about the health of his teeth.

"Listen, buddy. You don't go there, you don't sit in the car, you don't accelerate it to such a speed that the stands merge into one line. His car may be crap right now, but he drives it well enough to lose only 2-3 points in the race. Others would have lost their hopes for the title two races ago, but he is still in the fight. 2-3 points, on at least the third, or even the fourth car in speed. So cover your mouth and drink your cocktail."

Angry, aggressive, ready to grab his opponent by the throat...hot...sexy. "Still the same honey badger." Max thought lazily and squeezed Daniel's thigh tightly.

5+1)

Daniel pulled back the curtains and turned at the movement in the bed.

Max has never been an early riser, especially after a night at the club. Daniel walks over to the bed and carefully lies down next to the Dutch. Max winces at the sun, pulls the blanket higher and buries his face in the pillow. He probably has a headache, but he will endure it until the last moment. Daniel reaches out and starts to sort through Max's hair, as he likes. The pain will subside a little and Max will finally be able to open his eyes.

The ping of the phone distracts Dan from his occupation. He takes his phone to the bedside tables and checks mail. It takes about two minutes before Max pushes his head into Daniel's shoulder.

"Why did you stop?" Max speaks hoarsely and looks at Dan with one single open eye.

Daniel chuckles softly and returns his hand to the hair of the Dutch, who buries his head in Dan's palm and exhales with relief.

"If he could, he would purr like a real cat." Daniel thinks with a gentle smile on his lips.

I may not be a honey badger, but you're not a lion either.

[viaoverthemoon]

Fuck Him.

Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x (GN)Reader

Straight angst.

ummm, sorry y'all. I'm bored.

Tw: Lotsss of Swearing, arguing, emotional damage, Leon being an ass, aka mean Leon, alcohol addiction, mention of alcohol, small moment of violence, ANGST

Enjoy! :)

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"Get the hell out of my house, Kennedy."

He looked at you in disbelief.

"C'mon (Y/N), you don't mean tha-"

"Yes, I do. Get out."

He tries to catch your bluff. He looks you deep in your eyes, looking for some kind of hint that you're joking. But he doesn't find anything. You're 100% serious.

He becomes overwhelmed by his fear of losing you and begins to withdrawal, scoffing in your face.

"Really? You're kicking me out over this? You're kidding."

"Do I look like I'm fucking joking, Kennedy?"

"No, you look like you're overreacting. Stop playing around and let's-"

He reaches for you, trying to bring you into his arms. But for once, you don't want him touching you.

You back away from him, shaking your head and wrapping your arms around yourself.

"No. I'm not doing this anymore. Every time this happens, you think you can spew a few words, say some cheesy flirty quote, and then pull me into your arms. Not this time. I'm done Leon."

"Okay, what the fuck are you talking abou-?"

"Are you even listening to me!? Fuck Leon! I'm running in fucking circles with you! I tried my best to support you! I stayed by your side through it all! I gave you my everything! But all of a sudden, when I ask one SIMPLE thing from you, it's a big fucking deal?! Christ! I'm not doing this anymore!"

For once, he has nothing to say. His eyes widen at your outburst, and he can do nothing but watch you as you walk over to his liquor cabinet, pull out a bottle, and throw it towards him. It lands at his feet, the glass shattering everywhere.

"What are you-"

"Get the fuck out of my house and take your stupid fucking addiction with you!" You throw another one in his direction. "I'm not staying with someone who's drinking himself to death!" And another one. "I can't do this anymore!"

The tears flowing freely down your cheeks and the broken sobs scratching up your throat aren't enough to pull his drunken mind from his blind rage.

He grips your wrist before you could grab another one.

"Stop it, (Y/n)" He gritted out as you turned to glare at him. And judging by the way your hand easily slipped from his grasp when you yanked it away, he was going easy on you.

"You're taking this too far. Stop acting like a whiny bitch and-"

He didn't even get to finish his sentence before you slapped him right across his face.

The sting was painful on his cheek and your palm had begun to turn a bright shade of red. But you didn't care.

You lowered your hand and took a step away from him, his face beyond bewildered. He'd completely sobered up now.

"Get the fuck out of my house Leon."

There was silence.

And only when the front door closed, did you let yourself break.

And you bet Leon could hear you all the way outside your door.

But who cares.

Fuck him.

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I'm procrastinating with these requests y'all. But they're getting there! <3

[temptingfatetakingnames]

The Last Steve Harrington Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Eddie was sitting close, angled towards Steve, their legs touching. He reached out and trailed his fingers down Steve’s face like he always did, eyes soft and intent on the action. Then he reached under his hair and pulled his necklace over his head. He looked at it for a moment before holding it out to him. Steve didn’t understand, did Eddie want him to see it up close? He played with it enough when he was lying on his chest that he knew what it looked like.

“You’re mine now and I’m never leaving you. That’s a promise.”

Steve looked up in surprise. That’s what Wayne had said when he gave it to Eddie. Was Eddie giving it to him? Eddie smiled at his confusion, held it closer to him and nodded. Steve reached out with trembling fingers –

A red sky rolled behind his eyes and the dream changed to a nightmare.

– Blood dribbled out of the sides of his mouth; he was trying to speak even though he could barely breathe. His brown eyes were wide with pain, and Steve held him to his chest.

“You’re –” Eddie stopped and coughed up more blood.

“Shh, Eds. Don’t talk,” Steve cried.

“You’re mine now –” Eddie was desperately trying to get the words out but the blood kept coming.

“Please,” Steve begged. “Please don’t leave me. I love you. Please!” His voice broke and his vision blurred with tears.

Eddie’s breath was ragged but he kept trying to speak. “I’m never – I’m never leaving you,” he gasped out.

Steve waited for the words - for the promise.

But he didn’t finish.

Didn’t promise.

Because Eddie Munson died.

A gasp tore out of Steve’s throat, the sheets were tangled around his legs and he struggled to free himself. His heart was pounding and sweat clung to his body. He crawled out of the bed on shaky legs and went to the hallway, listening to see if he had woken anyone up. Silence greeted him. Sitting back down he tried to calm himself but his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He remembered the feeling of Eddie’s body in his arms, his blood on his hands.

Steve covered his mouth as another sob broke free. He closed his eyes tightly.

Eddie was smiling at him widely, dimples showing and eyes crinkled at the corners…

Steve shook his head as memories overwhelmed him. Eddie laughing chaotically in his passenger seat, Eddie playing DnD with the kids, Eddie in his Scoops uniform, Eddie kissing his knuckles, Eddie sleeping beside him, Eddie with blood on his lips, Eddie’s eyes filled with love, Eddie’s eyes staring up at him, lifeless.

Fuck.

He got dressed quickly and made his way downstairs. He needed to know that Eddie was alright. He was already halfway out of the door when he stopped to wonder if his and this Eddie’s phone numbers were the same.

He went over to the phone hanging on the wall, picked it up and dialed quickly from muscle memory before he had time to think more about it. The ringing in his ear was loud, but his heartbeat was louder as he waited.

“Hello?” the voice came through strong and clear. Steve didn’t speak, didn’t have anything to say, had just needed to hear his voice.

“Hello?” Eddie drew out the word in a singsong. Steve still didn’t reply. “Alright, who the hell is this?”

Steve closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. He wished Eddie would keep talking but knew that he was going to hang up soon if Steve didn’t say anything. It was so good to hear him.

“Steve?” Eddie asked gently, softly. In a blind panic Steve slammed the phone back onto the receiver on the wall, his heart pounding fast again.

He didn’t want to go back to sleep, afraid of what he would see in his dreams. There was still a lingering feeling of panic that was threatening to erupt and he didn’t want to be in the house if it happened. He didn’t want to wake the kids up or scare them again. After closing the front door behind him as quietly as he could, he started walking in the direction of the gas station that was open all night and sold alcohol. If it was the same in this universe, anyway.

It was late and the streets were quiet again. The walk didn’t take long and the gas station was mercifully open. The fluorescent lights in the store hurt his eyes but he went to the back fridge and grabbed a bottle of vodka and a six pack of beer. At the counter he pulled out Other Steve’s wallet and showed the bored attendant his I.D.

“Harrington? The missing Harrington?” The attendant was more awake now as he looked between the I.D. and Steve, a shocked expression on his young face. Instead of answering, Steve slapped some money down and snatched the card back before grabbing his stuff and booking it out of there.

Out in the night, he thought about where he could go where he wouldn’t be found or disturbed. There was a spot in the woods behind his house that he used to spend a lot of time at, especially when his parents were home. It was as good a place as any to drink alone. Walking up to the house was strange, he didn’t know if Other Steve’s parents still lived there. There were cars in the driveway that he didn’t recognize so he doubted it. He figured they had left Hawkins when everything went down and hadn’t come back.

He skirted the property of the house and slipped into the woods. It was dark but he knew the way and the moon offered just enough light. He found the old oak tree that had branches low enough for easy climbing. He settled his booze on the lowest limb and then lifted himself up. After leaning against the thick trunk, he cracked the tab on a beer. The first sip was cold and delicious, and he quickly chugged the rest of the can.

He and Eddie had spent a lot of time here. Eddie had got so high once, he tried to climb further up the tree because ‘if the squirrels could do it, so could he.’ Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t climb as well as a squirrel and had fallen on his ass. This had been before they were together and Steve had taken his time patching Eddie up, using it as an excuse to touch him way more than had been necessary. The memory was painful and Steve realized his mistake in coming here too late as more memories flooded him.

Eleven asking for advice on how to grow out her hair, Will coming to him after he and Eddie got together, helping Lucas with basketball practice, shopping with Mike for birthday gifts for Eleven, teaching Max how to cook, movie nights and sleepovers with Dustin where they talked about everything and nothing.

And Eddie… Always Eddie.

Along with the happier moments came the memories of fire and death and blood. Watching Eleven bleed from her nose and thrash in a seizure, Mike getting thrown aside by Vecna, Will getting possessed by The Mind Flayer, Lucas and Max dying in each other’s arms, Dustin and Eddie getting torn apart by bats. All of them screaming, screaming, screaming.

And Steve… Watching it happen and doing nothing.

He hadn’t had a chance to grieve them, too busy trying to survive to let himself feel their loss. Survival wasn’t living though, and it wasn’t moving on. Now, all he had was time and memories. But they hurt. Oh, they hurt so goddamn much. Being numb was so much easier, he didn’t want to feel it. He didn’t want to feel any of it!

He shook his head and grabbed his hair in a painful grip. The memories needed to stop! He twisted the cap on the vodka and took the biggest swig he could handle. Fire scorched his throat as he swallowed. He kept drinking in the hope that it would stop his thoughts, stop his memories, stop his feelings.

He was on his way to a good buzz when he fell out of the tree, hitting the ground with a hard ‘oomph.’ He laughed; Eddie had done the same thing!

“Steve!”

He sat up and whipped his head around but didn’t see anyone. Had he really heard that?

“Steve!” He definitely heard it that time. Who would be out here looking for him?

“Steve…” A flashlight beamed into his face and he groaned and turned over, waving his arm at whoever it was to go away. Gentle hands started rubbing circles on his back and he shivered. Flipping over he saw Robin crouching beside him and Eddie standing off the side holding a flashlight.

“What are you two doing here? How do you know about my tree?” he slurred out.

Robin had a soft and tender look on her face. “Steve told me that he had a spot out here where he went to think. Eddie radioed me after he called Hopper.”

Steve. Steve. Steve. The same and oh so different Steve. He hated him.

He gathered himself and tried to stand, but he was shaky from the alcohol and his fall. A hand reached down into his line of vision, silver rings flashing in the moonlight. It was a beautiful hand. Steve looked up into Eddie’s face. It was a beautiful face.

Wait. What had Robin said?

“You called Hopper and radioed? Why did you do that?” Steve whined. The kids were probably up and out looking for him!

Eddie wiggled his fingers in front of his face, still wanting to help him stand up.

“I was worried! You didn’t say anything on the phone. I called back but Hopper answered, not you. He said you were gone so I radioed Robin.”

Steve sighed and grabbed his hand. Eddie yanked him up hard and Steve stumbled into him, hands reaching out to steady himself on his waist. He smelled like Eds. Steve leaned into him for a brief moment, chasing the scent before het let go and moved back. His face felt warm and he was grateful for the darkness.

“Let’s get you home,” Robin said as she stood up from her crouch.

Steve winced. Home. Home was a desolate wasteland where everyone he loved was dead. Home wasn’t the Hopper-Byers’ house. He didn’t deserve it to be. He shook his head and clutched his arms around himself.

Robin and Eddie shared a look.

“We can go back to mine,” Eddie volunteered. “Wayne’s gone for the night so we would have the place to ourselves.”

There would be memories there, too. Painful, beautiful memories. He couldn’t help but be curious about this Eddie’s place, though. He nodded at them.

Robin grabbed the rest of his beer and Eddie pointed the flashlight in front of them so they could walk out without tripping over tree roots. Steve was a little unsteady and Robin stayed close to his side. Eddie’s van was parked on the curb a few houses down from the old Harrington place. Steve crawled in the backseat and Robin got in the front. Eddie turned the key in the ignition and made a U-turn on the quiet street.

“If we’re going to hang out, we have to stop at my place so I can get some decent music, Munson,” Robin quipped.  

“You wouldn’t know decent music if it hit you in the face, Buckley,” Eddie shot back.

“Noise isn’t music! Steve, back me up here!”

Steve had tried his best to like Eddie’s music, but most of it was just too much for him. He liked a good beat and songs he could sing and dance to. Dio was alright, some Metallica and Iron Maiden but it would be nice to have more variety.

“We need to stop at Robin’s,” Steve agreed. Robin cheered and Eddie scowled.

“This is what I get for hanging out with jocks and band geeks.”

“Oh, because a metalhead DnD nerd is so much better?” Robin asked sarcastically.

“So much better, Buckley! So much better.”

The two of them fought over the radio the entire drive to Robin’s and Steve sat back and listened to them argue. Robin ran inside after they pulled up to her house and Eddie took the opportunity to switch the radio back to a station he liked. She was out again quickly, locking the door and lugging a huge backpack.

“I wrote my parents a note so I can stay the night,” she said as she slammed the car door and began rummaging in the bag. She pulled out a tape and popped into the tape deck while Eddie was reversing out of the driveway and couldn’t stop her.

A synth beat started playing that Steve immediately began bouncing his head to. A strong female voice sang about a material world.

“I like this! Who is it?” he asked.

Robin twisted so she could see over her seat and stared at him. “It’s Madonna, Steve.”

“Never heard of her! Is she new?”

Robin gawked at him before turning to look at Eddie who had an equally incredulous look on his face.

“Madonna? The pop icon?” Robin asked, turning back to him. Steve blinked at her. He had never heard of Madonna.  

“Put on Like a Virgin,” Eddie said. Robin fiddled with the radio, fast forwarding the tape to the part she wanted. Another song with a great beat filled the air. Steve liked it, but he had never heard it before either. He shook his head at her.

“I like it, but I don’t know it!” Steve said as he bounced his head to the beat.

“How can he not know Madonna?” Robin asked Eddie.

“She must not exist in his universe.”

Robin gasped. “I never thought of that!”

They spent the rest of the drive to Eddie’s place asking him about music. He knew most of the bands Robin brought up and some of Eddie’s. There was no way of knowing if he didn’t know them because he had just never been exposed to them or if they truly didn’t exist in his universe. When they pulled up to the trailer park, Robin popped the Madonna tape out and put it back in her bag.

Steve followed them into an unfamiliar trailer, his buzz had faded a bit from the walk and the drive so he was steadier on his feet.

“I’ll be right back,” Eddie said as he closed the door on his bedroom.

Robin settled on the floor next to the television and started looking at Eddie’s movies. Steve stared at the closed door before he went to sit with her. The radio was beside the television so he clicked it on. Wayne must have been listening to it last because it was set to a soft rock station.

Steve looked around the space – it was a bigger trailer than the one his Eddie and Wayne had lived in but he could still pick out small familiar details. The blanket on the couch, a mug on the counter, the hats on the wall. Eddie came back out shortly and grabbed cold beers out of the fridge. Steve turned back to Robin and noticed Rocky Horror was in her hands.

“I love that movie!” he exclaimed and Robin looked over at him with a surprised smile.

Eddie handed them beers and took the movie from her, popping it into the VHS player. Drinking rules were discussed quickly and they all settled in to watch. The trailer hadn’t triggered any memories and Steve was more relaxed than he expected to be. It felt normal, just a group of friends watching a movie and enjoying each other’s company.

When the Time Warp came on, Steve had bypassed buzzed completely and was well and truly drunk. He felt light and happy so he pulled Robin to her feet so they could do the dance together. She was smiling widely, singing and dancing with him as Eddie laughed at them from the couch. Robin tried to get him up to dance but he outright refused. He sang the song though, so Steve bet he knew the dance, he just didn’t want to admit it. When it was over, they collapsed onto the floor laughing. Steve closed his eyes as the room started spinning.

“I think I’m gunna be sick,” he murmured.  

“Me too,” Robin said beside him.

They looked at each other, blinking for a moment before they got up and ran for the bathroom. Robin got to the door first but Steve squeezed his way in with her. She fell to her knees in front of the toilet, heaving into the bowl. Steve settled between the toilet and the bathtub and took deep breaths. He didn’t want to hurl in the bathtub. Robin wiped her hand on her mouth and flushed before gesturing at Steve to take her place. He did, feeling better after emptying his stomach.

He leaned back against the wall and checked on Robin. She was looking at him with that soft, tender expression again and Steve was drunk enough to finally ask about the unspoken ghost between them.

“Tell me about Steve,” he said softly.

Robin took a deep breath and let it out before she started talking. Steve was complicated, she said, more complicated than most people gave him credit for. She told him a bit about what he was like in high school, how he started to change in ’83. How she met up with him again at Scoops Ahoy and slowly started to learn about who he really was and not who he had shown the world for most of his life. She told him about the Russians and how he had protected her, and that they became inseparable best friends after. She told him about the caring and protective side of him that only the people he called family ever got to see.

“I hated him, you know… before I really knew him. I thought he was a superficial douchebag with stupid hair and the girl I liked–” she cut herself off abruptly and stared at him wide-eyed.

“Liked him?” Steve finished and she nodded.

“Who was the girl?”

“Tammy Thompson,” she whispered.

“Tammy Thompson? Robin, she’s a total dud. Didn’t she want to be a singer or something? You could do way better than Tammy Thompson!”

It made Robin laugh, which was what he had hoped for but then she started crying – huge gasping sobs. Steve crawled across the floor so he was sitting beside her. She kept crying, so he put his arm around her and pushed her head onto his shoulder.

“It’s alright, Robin. Why are you crying?” he asked as he rubbed her arm. “I’m sorry I made a joke about it.”

She sniffed and looked up at him. Her eyes were bloodshot and her lips trembled but she smiled at him. “I’m just really glad you’re here, Steve.”

He swallowed and looked away. His feelings on being here were complicated. A messy mix of gratitude and shame. Peace and chaos. Beauty and pain. And through it all the overwhelming and all-consuming guilt. It was a second chance he hadn’t earned and didn’t deserve. He wasn’t Steve - complicated, protective, caring Steve. He couldn’t tell her he was glad to be here, but he could share something with her.

“I like both,” he said quietly.

“You like both?” she asked slowly, her brow scrunched in drunken confusion. He nodded and he could see the moment she understood. “You like both!” she exclaimed so happily that it made Steve laugh.

“Did your Steve…? –”

“Like both?” she finished for him and he nodded. A loud snort escaped her nose and she collapsed onto the floor with the giggles. He would take that as a no. Interesting…

Robin screamed, holding her hands over her face and rolling around a little. All of a sudden, she sat back up and crowded into his space. She pulled his necklace out of his shirt and stared at it like it held the secrets of the universe before slowly meeting his eyes. She looked like she was about to cry again. He shook his head at her desperately. He couldn’t talk about Eds. Not yet. Her eyes were soft as she tucked the necklace back into his shirt.

“Can I?” she asked, leaning back and opening her arms. Steve didn’t hesitate this time and slipped into them. Her arms went around him and held him tight. He sighed deeply and squeezed her back. She held him like he was something precious that had been lost and then found. It felt so good that tears pricked his eyes.

Comforting touches had been rare for him growing up and he had been hesitant when touching others - finding it difficult to know when someone might want him to reach out and comfort them. The kids had broken down that hesitancy with ruthless efficiency, launching themselves at him with every opportunity, holding his hand and grabbing his clothes, playing with his hair, their constant little touches of care and affection. Letting him know every day that it was alright – that they loved him.

Robin’s hug felt the same.

“Thanks, Rob,” he said into her neck, emotion burning in the back of his throat.

“Thank you, Steve,” she replied softly as she squeezed him tighter.

Eddie shot into the room and stared at them on the floor with an exasperated look. “Okay, what the hell? What’s with all the screaming and crying going on in here?”

They leaned back and looked at each other before bursting into laughter.  

---

Late at night the three of them trudged into Eddie’s room and collapsed onto the small bed. Steve took the wall, Robin in the middle and Eddie on the outside. The night was warm but a fan kept it just cool enough that Steve drifted into a comfortable sleep. No dreams or memories haunted him.

In the morning, Hopper picked him up… and took him home.

Part 6

@just-a-tiny-void @mx-jinxous @child-of-cthulhu @goodolefashionedloverboi @awholedamnmesstbh @phoenix0bird @queenie-ofthe-void @bookworm0690 @estrellami-1 @hbyrde36 @a-gae-af-racoon @nailbatandfreak @newtstabber @novelnovella @meela86 @lenathegay @vampireinthesun @penny00dreadful @questionablequeeries

[stxrshxpxd]

spring

part one

pairing: 90s professor hugh grant x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: student x teacher, smut

prompt: reader and mr. grant slowly recover from the horror that was the end of last semester, but they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other

requested by several people <3

February.

The first few weeks of the semester I had sat nearly all the way at the back for Mr. Grant’s classes, not said a word in discussions and felt partly relieved he hadn’t addressed me directly. The other part of me wallowed in deep sadness and agony at the fact that we hadn’t exchanged a single word in a month.

He stood at his desk like always in a pale grey button up and his arms crossed over his chest. He let his eyes scan the class and quickly panned over me, to which my heart jumped and I sank down a bit in my seat. I hated that I still had dreams about him every other night and still wanted his hands on me more than ever. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He had actually done everything right. Which made it all worse. There was nothing I could cling onto for a reason to hate him.

Class ended sooner than I had expected and I hurried to gather my things and head towards the door, but Professor Grant stopped me with a soft uttering of my name.

“Would you mind staying back for just a little while?”

Stiff and caught off guard, I nodded and we awkwardly watched the last few students exit.

“I know you knew the answer to the Oscar Wilde question,” he stated gently with a sympathetic look and his head tilted down slightly.

“Okay,” I shrugged stiffly and hugged my books closely to my chest.

“Okay,” he mimicked and sighed.

“Listen, I’m really sorry about what happened last semester. I should absolutely not have let that happen…” His arms were crossed again rather anxiously and his eyes visibly upset. “We have to find a way to work through this though. You’re an absolutely brilliant student, but I’m afraid if you don’t speak in class that’s going to affect your grade.”

I blinked back at him and my gaze rested on his wide shoulders momentarily.

“I understand that.”

March.

It was Thursday and the sun had gone down nearly five hours earlier. I had been sitting in my dorm since the end of the school day with my nose shoved in one book or another, and I felt like I was going insane.

Already after a few minutes’ walk I was feeling better. However, my steps slowed as I wandered past a crowded pub to my left, letting my eyes sorrowfully scan all the little groups of people bathing in the warm light inside, talking and laughing. Sometimes I would get little spurts of confidence and I’d tell myself I could stomp inside a pub alone and get a drink if I wanted. Who the hell would care? But then I never did.

Just as I went to carry on down the street I spotted Professor Grant at the bar, also alone. In shock I watched his long fingers walk along the edge of his pint as he stared down into the half finished beer, wavy locks hanging around his glasses. I guess now I wouldn’t be alone if I were to go in.

“Hey,” I said carefully as I reached him by the bar. He didn’t hear me, so I repeated it louder and made him stare up at me.

“Y/N,” Mr. Grant exhaled and swallowed, almost nervously. His gaze traveled all the way down and up my body as I cautiously sat on the stool beside him.

“What are you doing h-“

“Can I get anything for you, love?” the loud barman interrupted his question with a wide smile beaming at me. I turned him down instantly, saying I was okay for now, anxious to make him go away.

“I’m- I was just on a walk.” I shrugged and looked around the stacked shelves behind the bar. “I’ve been studying all night, and I felt like I was losing my mind… I just saw you, and… thought I’d go in… I don’t know,” I mumbled once the barman was at the other end of the counter again. My professor continued to stare back at me, his pale eyes glassy with intoxication and tongue licking the corner of his mouth. There was a definite air of anxiety coming off him.

I went to ask him something but he quickly jabbed in with a tortured statement before I could get any words out.

“I don’t trust myself to be drunk with you,” he grumbled and shook his head and looked down again, beginning to slide off his bar stool.

“Why?” I asked, knowing why.

I took a good long look at his body while he struggled to find an answer; his broad shoulders clad in a knitted sweater and the few rings on his large hands and his long legs in blue denim. I thought I hadn’t ever seen him in jeans before.

“I’ll see you Monday,” Professor Grant muttered at last and hurried to make his exit, avoiding my eye contact. I was left alone at the bar, defeated and contemplating finishing his beer. Fifteen minutes later I was back in my dorm.

April.

“This is brilliant, Y/N,” Mr. Grant gushed without greeting me. He was holding up my latest essay as he took the last few steps towards me and sat on the edge of the table beside me. It was midday and the library was crowded and struggling to stay silent.

“I mean, really, the connections you make between 19th century and current day society are incredible.”

I smiled at his enthusiasm and my chest simmered with warmth, but I was afraid to answer him. Ever since that night in the pub that was all I could think about when I looked at him. Even in bright daylight it felt like his drunk eyes were looking at me through dim lighting when we spoke. And we had spoken quite a bit lately. Things had somehow gone back to what they used to be, Mr. Grant seeming to have forgotten the memory of the pub night. But it was all obviously a front.

“I have to run, but,” he stood up and leaned in a barely noticeable amount, placing my marked essay in front of me. “This is great stuff. You’re brilliant,” he finished rather lightheartedly and friendly, but his hand squeezed my shoulder gently and it felt like his fingertips lingered when he pulled away and walked off again. I watched his broad back and long legs march out of the library, his brown waves of hair bouncing softly around his head as always. The cloud of his scent dissipated soon and my shoulder molded back into its untouched state, as I began to look through his marks and comments to the sound of my pounding heart.

May.

Towards the end of the year it seemed Professor Grant was getting more and more relaxed in a couple areas. He had stopped blushing and darting his eyes away whenever I caught him looking at me, which was still quite often. Instead he would flex his jaw and take his sweet time looking down while exhaling deeply. I suppose he was getting comfortable with the idea of soon not being my teacher anymore.

I could almost hear his thoughts today as it was the first hot day of the year and I had opted for a skirt that ended at the middle of my thighs and a thin cardigan. He seemed to be hoping that my top button might pop open from his adamant stare which he had resumed now. I was praying for the same thing as my eyes trailed down his buttoned shirt from where I sat just two rows back in the classroom.

Mr. Grant gazed away again, but only for a minute, seemingly pondering something. I tried to force my head back down to continue scribbling notes about Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse, but seconds later Grant cleared his throat.

“I need to go get some books. Um… Y/N, would you mind helping me carry them?”

I snapped my head up and studied the way he was standing now, leaned over his desk with his arms straight and hands pressing into the wooden surface. Maybe my delusions were getting the best of me but I thought that definitely couldn’t have been a random pick of a student. I nodded and slid out of my seat, silently following him while my hands toyed nervously with my necklace.

The hallways were quiet and echoed with our steps as I walked next to my professor, all the while expecting him to say something. He didn’t until we were in the crowded storage room and he began stacking textbooks on my extended arms.

“Do you have any plans for the summer?” Grant asked and simultaneously made a quick grimace to comment on the heat in the tight space we’d found ourselves in.

“Work a bit, see my family… I don’t know… Read.”

“I’ll give you a reading list, don’t worry,” he said and winked. I smiled and prayed he couldn’t see my blushing cheeks in the dusky light. He let a moment pass of silence.

“I expect you’ll have a summer fling or two.”

His tone was lighthearted but investigative. I couldn’t help but scoff with laughter.

“I don’t think any guy has looked my way since starting uni.”

“I’m looking your way right now,” he joked and lowered his head to my level, inching his face closer to mine and locking in eye contact with me with a playful grin. My cheeks burned now.

“I’m looking at your eyes, your hair, your nose, your chin…”

Excitement and nerves bubbled and spilled over inside me, mixed with confusion and slight anger. He had spent so long fighting our chemistry and attraction and keeping me at an arm's length. Now all of a sudden he was charmingly playing around with me in a dark storage room. I couldn’t figure him out and it drove me mad.

“Especially looking at your arms,” Mr. Grant laughed sympathetically and looked down at my embrace of the huge stack of books. “Very strong arms.” His fingers touched my tensed bicep and all my feelings of anger left in an instant. We silently made eye contact for a few long seconds as his hand stayed put and the playful smile faded from his lips.

“Don’t stress. No boys here are good enough for you anyway.”

I couldn’t tell who was leaning in but somehow his face neared mine and I watched him close his eyes. I did the same and then I felt his lips softly against mine. There was so much more time to cherish our kiss this time around. No one was pulling away for a good long while, me still convulsively hugging the textbooks to my chest with aching arms. Soon, though, Professor Grant grabbed a hold of a bunch of them and tried to help me place them on the empty shelf space behind me while not breaking the kiss. They all slipped and crashed to the floor instead with a loud noise that echoed quickly around the room, making us both jump and laugh and stop kissing for a second. But he hurried back to me and firmly pressed me against the uncomfortably uneven surface behind me, his fingers clawing into my sides.

“Professor,” I breathed with a whimper into his desperate kisses as a sharp shelf corner dug into my back. He answered with a deep hum and I felt his smirk grow.

“I love it when you call me that,” he breathed back, his hands having found my bare skin under my cardigan. My heart was making my rib cage rattle as his teeth softly trapped my bottom lip and his hand cupped the underside of my breast. I couldn’t help but let a small moan out.

“And that’s a lovely sound, darling, do it again,” he whispered eagerly, his lips now below my ear sucking a harsh mark into my thin skin. I continued to whine and moan as I tugged at his shirt, pulling it out of his belted trousers and impatiently tearing the first few buttons open. He quickly took over and his skilled fingers rid his body of the shirt within seconds.

“Wait,” I breathed and pushed him off of me but kept him within reach. I had to take a good look at his body when I had finally gotten him topless. The thick stripes of light from the small windows coated his softly defined stomach and his chest heaved with his sharp breaths.

“Oh my god,” I muttered, tormented by his beauty, and my hands roamed down his shoulders and arms and to his narrow waist and hips. Beginning to fall back into his space, I kissed his collarbones. Mr. Grant smiled smugly at my surrender to his body but he protested and held me back.

“I want to see you too.”

I allowed him to hold me back and mindfully open the buttons down my front as I tried to control my breathing. His eyes fell on my nearly exposed breasts as he pushed my sleeves, along with my bra straps down my shoulders.

“You’re even more gorgeous than I imagined,” he mumbled and my insides fluttered at the thought of him imagining me naked.

“Have you been imagining undressing me, professor?” I taunted, wanting to hear him say it. He unclasped my bra and let it fall to the floor between us and nodded with his eyes intensely staring into mine.

“Couldn’t get the image out of my head of your body on mine.”

He leaned down and I felt his lips lock around my nipple and his hair tickle my bare skin.

“Your tight pussy around my cock,” he added in a low whisper and I whimpered again at the thought, and the sudden feeling of his large hand coating my damp underwear under my skirt.

“Fuck,” I exhaled onto his brown locks at him rubbing circles around my clit.

“Do I make you this wet, hm?” Mr. Grant asked and began kneeling in front of me, looking up into my eyes again. I shoved my hands into his soft hair and nodded.

“Yes, professor.”

He lifted my skirt up and connected his lips with my wet underwear, leaving precious kisses and listening closely to my whimpers. They only grew louder when his finger hooked into my pants and pulled them to the side, hurrying to reattach his lips and tongue.

“God, that feels so good,” I whined and combed my fingers through his fluffy hair, tightening my fist around the roots and making him groan at the slight pain.

“Yeah?” Professor Grant spurred me on. “Do you want my cock inside you, darling?”

“Yes, please.”

Him coming back up to kiss me again, I tasted myself on his lips. I couldn’t ponder on that for too long though as his body was pressed against me again and I felt his hard on between my thighs. Instantly I rushed to get his belt off.

His breaths hit my face sharply as his clothing dropped to the floor and he ran his tip along my wetness, making me moan in desperation.

Holding one of my already weak legs up to his hip, he pushed most of his length inside me and smiled darkly at the loud whimper that poured out of me in response.

“I know, I know, my love,” Mr. Grant muttered reassuringly, capturing the side of my head in his large palm and kissing my lips sweetly as he thrusted deeper.

“You’re doing so well, taking me so deep.”

I couldn’t think of any words to say back. My mind was a haze and my body a trembling mess as his hips slammed against mine at a faster pace now.

“You feel incredible,” he breathed into my ear and I continued to pant and moan into his. “Do you want to come on my cock, hm?”

He had begun rubbing my clit with his thumb. I couldn’t believe how good he was making me feel and all I could do was nod and cling onto his sturdy shoulders.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I whined and breathed into his neck and he kissed mine back. He sank his teeth into my skin slightly and the pain instantly pushed me over my edge, making my thighs shake and body twitch as he continued to stretch me out with deep thrusts.

“That’s it… So good for me,” Grant breathed and groaned at the feeling of me clenching around him. “Fuck!”

Just as his pounding was beginning to make me ache, he pulled out quickly and I watched in complete awe as he came over my chest and stomach. A string of moans and curses ripped from his throat, soon to be replaced by only his heavy breathing.

He caught the drops running down my breasts and belly with his fingers and thumb and for a second he was unsure where to go from there, at which I grabbed his wrist and guided his hand up to my mouth. I sucked his sticky fingers clean as I stared at his bright eyes and blushing cheeks, and his smirk grew again.

“You drive me crazy, Y/N,” Mr. Grant sighed with a slanted smile and he pulled his trousers up again. I blushed and bent down to get my cardigan off the floor. When I came back up he gave me another kiss, long and sweet and with his hand softly on my lower back.

“I’m afraid I might not be as strong after that,” I mumbled and we both chuckled breathily as we stared at the messy pile of books around our feet.

Mr. Grant gazed away and rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes hopping between notebooks and binders on the shelf to his left. I wasn’t sure if he felt regret or guilt or embarrassment. But he looked back at me after a moment and gave me a soft smile.

“Come on then,” he sighed with a chuckle and covered his beautiful back and arms with his shirt again before reaching for the textbooks.

[anonymouslymadebydesign]

Whump Month, Day 3 : Homesick

Whump Month by @cirrus-ghoulette

Divider by @wrathofrats

Word Count : 781

Summary : Cardinal Copia has been working tirelessly to a point where he is beyond exhausted, somehow ending up in the Ghoul Wing of the Abbey.

CW: None that I can think of, perhaps working to avoid dealing with emotions ?

Light angst with light comfort ♡

The Cardinal wasn't sure how exactly he got here. One moment he was walking from the library, arms laden with books, and the next he was standing near the Ghoul wing of the Abbey, books gone.

He was so tired, he hadn't even registered setting the books down and leaving them. Hell, he couldn't even remember where he left them. Sister Imperator scolding him for loosing Abbey books was the last thing he needed. He still had so much paperwork and research to do.

"Cardinal Copia?" A voice rang through his muddled thoughts. When he looked up he realized it was the voice of Dewdrop, the recently changed ghoul.

A fond smile formed on the Cardinals face, as he stepped forwards towards the ghoul.

"Ah, Dewdrop." He smiled warmly. "How are you? An elemental transition is no joke, are you healing?"

The fresh fire ghoul looked at him with something akin to worry, meeting Copia halfway as he got closer. He took the Cardinals outstretched hands, holding them in his.

"I am fine, thank you, Cardinal." Dewdrop returned his soft smile with one of his own, though it was clearly a worried one. He rubbed his thumbs against Copias hands, soothingly. "The pack is treating me well, and I feel fine."

Dewdrop paused, holding the man's hands tighter. "But what about you?"

Copia blinked, staring for a moment before tilting his head. "What do you mean, piccolo demone?"

"You look awful, Cardinal. When was the last time you slept?"

Copia paused, his brow furrowing as he thought about it. He was certain he hadn't slept yesterday but he couldn't quite remember if he slept the previous day or not. "It was...the day before yesterday, I believe."

The silence between them was deadly.

"You...believe?" The fire ghoul parroted back, clearly unimpressed.

"Yes, I believe so." Copia offered with a guilty smile, hoping it would soften the ghouls wrath.

Before he could further defend himself (dig his hole deeper), the fire ghoul was grabbing him by the cassock and all but dragging him into the Ghoul wing.

He was pulled further in, waving undignified to passing by Ghouls who looked at the duo quizzically. Before he knew it he was sat down on a couch in their common room. Dewdrop sat him down and all but yanked him down into his lap, his head resting against thin legs.

"....Dewdrop?" Copia spoke softly, rolling onto his back. He was minutely aware of how nicer this couch was than his own twin bed in his room. Something he hadn't seen in a long time now.

"You're going to lay here and you're going to rest." Dewdrops voice left no room for negotiation, and Copia, being the doormat he is, complied.

The Cardinal sighed deeply, letting himself relax, staring up at the ceiling.

"I just," Copia began, folding his gloved hands over his sternum. "I've been so busy as of late. Sister has been giving me reports to type up, wants progress reports on how well the project is doing on a quarterly basis. It's good, by the way. Terzos Papacy has been good for the project, even if he just became Papa."

Copia was rambling and he knew it, but it felt like it had been so long since he had anyone to speak to. Sister never wanted to listen to him speak unless it was productive or held importance to her. Papa Nihil was no better, but Copia held a dislike for the man, so even then he didn't really count. Sure, there were Siblings of Sin and Ghouls he could speak to, but none of them would want to listen to anything he had to say.

"Why do you take on such a workload. You know it's optional." Dewdrop asked after he finished rambling, his fingers having taken off his biretta and his nibble fingers coming through the Cardinals dark hair.

"I'm..." Copia paused, glancing at the fire ghoul before sighing. "I guess I'm working to keep my mind of some things."

"Like what?" Dewdrop asked, never one to beat around the bush.

"....I think...I think I'm homesick." Copia said softly.

"Homesick? But, this is your home."

"Ah, sí. I mean, where I grew up. In Italy. The winters here are so cold and dreary, it seems lifetimes away on days like these." Copia sighed. "Wouldn't you agree, il mio piccolo demone?"

Dewdrop didn't answer, not right away at least. He let them sit in silence, and Copia waited patiently.

"Yeah...I guess I can understand what you mean." Dewdrop agreed, his voice low and melancholic.

"Yeah... I suppose you can, can't you?" Copia nodded, just as low and soft.

[lonely-north-star]

jewelry maker mammon x retail worker mc pt 3

hey guys. I'm back. As always this is me being silly and projecting my work experiences onto my own MC (and Mammon) for giggles. Please enjoy!

Part one below:

-As soon as Mammon learns about the sale on Sunday, he's mentally making a list of everything he wants to buy

-He asked MC if he could hide 'just a couple things, eh? Won't hurt nobody.' and she said no

-He looked so dejected but she said if her order fulfillment percentage got messed up, she'd have his head

-He realizes in that moment he's never seen her angry, but the look she gave him was murderous

-Friday comes around and he's already itching to buy the beads

-MC tells him to make sure he pays any bills off first before spending his money

"Weren't ya texting me saying ya bought some plushie online last night?"

"... Okay listen here you-"

-Sunday rolls around and Mammon is so restless

-Three hours into his shift, and MC has run out of things for him to do. Repacks and freight were finished yesterday. He's already straightened out every problem aisle.

-He's currently going through and pulling everything forward on aisles but he's already made it through the entire left side of the store and almost all of the middle

-This store has 123 numbered aisles for reference. Plus everything along the walls

-Meanwhile MC is running around doing orders and cursing corporate for making the coupon online only

-But at least she doesn't have to worry about returns or recovery.

-Every single time she goes up to the front to check the return cart, panicking because there's so many orders that she can barely keep up so surely there must be lots of returns, she finds that it's empty. She stares at it, switching between her cashier and the empty cart

"Mammon beat you to them. I think he's going just as crazy as you."

"... Has there been a lot of returns?"

"Yeah. But I swear he has some sixth sense. Because I'll put something in there, turn around to help a customer, and turn back and he's already walking away and the cart is empty! What the hell, man? He's just as bad as you."

-She stares at the cart for a moment longer, feeling slightly less stressed because that's one less thing to worry about.

-She is too stubborn to ask for help half the time, and will definitely overwork herself if needed. But seeing and hearing this, she's like "okay... maybe... maybe everything WILL be okay."

-She goes back to doing online orders, very rarely having to pick anything up

-Almost rams a cart into Mammon from how fast she's walking when he comes out of an aisle

"GAH- OI, STOP WALKING SO QUICK, DAMN IT!"

"Oh fu- Sorry, sorry I- Pfft"

-She starts giggling, wheezing even, because that could've ended terribly had it been a customer. She's crouched on the ground, holding the cart handle

-Mammon is slightly concerned, and he's trying so hard to scowl, and failing miserably

"It ain't even that funny. I could've died, y'know?"

"wheeze"

"Stop laughin'! I'm trying to be mad at ya! Ugh...Damn it, ya look cute when you're laughing like that.."

"Okay, okay, I-I'm good- *holding back laughs* What did you say?"

"NOTHIN'! GO PACK YOUR ORDERS OR WHATEVER!"

-MC is confused why he ran off so quickly. But she finally calms down, making an effort to walk slower (it doesn't last long)

-One hour left and Mammon has finished the entire store

-He finds it weird he hasn't seen the other manager walking around but hasn't questioned it yet, he's just counting down the minutes now

-When it's almost time for them to leave, MC finds him in the bead aisle, a few already in his cart. She finally finished all the orders that came in before cutoff time.

"Done with your orders?"

"Yeah. Finally. I never want to see another storage bin in my freaking life."

"Heh. Don't leave this aisle then, because there's a display right behind ya."

"Horrifying... How many are you planning on buying?"

"Dunno. I gotta pay for the one's that cost the most right? All the metal and glass one's are expensive."

"You know our discount works on top of the sale, right?"

-Mammon slow turns and stares at her like she hung the stars. Apparently, he did not know. But to be fair, this was his first check.

"Please do not buy out the entire stock."

"sucks in a breath"

"Mammon please."

"... You're no fun, ya know that? Fine. If you're gonna be like that, help me choose some as payment."

-Halfway through they did go and clock out, because they were not about to be bothered by customers while browsing

-Most of the things MC chooses are blue, with the occasional pink or red slipped in there. And any star beads she came across

-Mammon has a big handful by the end. He choose basic colored glass beads, going for the one's with multiple strands mainly

-He also snagged some that looked like pearls, and a few 'semi-precious' one's. He got some inquiries about doing bracelets that matched people's eyes

-And if he asked MC to look at him and compared some beads to her eyes? No he didn't <3

-By the end, he's got maybe 18 different beads, MC even has to help carry some. She's nervous about the price

"Are you sure you wanna get all these?"

"Don't worry about it. I know I'll use 'em all. And it's a hella good sale."

-They're both watching it ring up and it's not until he gets his employee discount that he's in awe

-It comes out to like $40 and he's skeptical everything was actually rung up because no way it was that cheap for all that

-He's genuinely so excited, he can't stop smiling

-After wards he walks outside with MC, who's calling her ride, and is confused when she sits down

"What are ya doing sittin' there for?"

"I have to wait for my ride. They're still at home so... I don't know when they'll be here. Soon, hopefully?"

-This is how he learns she doesn't know how to drive and takes the bus to work

-Only thinks for half a second before he's pestering her to come with him and that he'll give her a ride

"Mammon, it's fine, I can wait. I don't have cash for gas money either."

"Did I ask for gas money? Nah, I said 'come on, I'll give ya a ride'. Now, c'mon. Let's go."

-She brings him his favorite drink and a pastry from across the street next time she sees him as thanks because he refused any promises to pay him back

-They rarely get off at the same time, so when they do, he now gives her rides. Sometimes they even stop to eat, at which she insists on paying

-Mammon usually gets open or mid shifts after all

-There is one time where he agrees to cover someone's closing shift, and he's kinda nervous. Because he's only closed one time, and that was in the beginning with MC during his training days

-But he's not closing with MC this time. He's closing with the other manager.

-He remembers that one time going smoothly enough, and he cleans and straightens out the front as he usually does

-He's getting increasingly restless the closer it is to closing and the returns haven't been touched all day. He's only occasionally seen the manager downstairs to put away an order

-He's already swept and grabbed trash, but the bathrooms haven't been touched as far as he knows?

-He goes to sweep the store, thinking it'll get done in a second

-How very wrong he was. They closed an hour ago, they were supposed to leave 30 minutes ago, and Lucifer is texting to ask where he's at because he should've been home by now

-Stops doing returns and text rants to Lucifer he's being held back and that they still aren't done cleaning, the store is a mess

-Sends a myriad of angry emojis to MC as well

"😡😡🤬💢💢 NEVER CLOSING WITH THIS DUMBASS AGAIN"

"YOU'RE CLOSING?? Since when?? With who??

"NEVER AGAIN AFTER THIS"

-The next morning he gets thanked by the store manager for covering the shift, but Mammon tells him he's never doing that again if it's the other manager closing

-Says he will quit on the spot if it comes down to it

-And Mammon has not closed with him since. But he does do his best to finish any and all returns or straighten as much as he can if he's the mid cashier when that manager is closing

-----

-If only to hopefully make it easier on the closing cashier

hello I hope part 3 made people laugh - Not sure if I'll do a part 4? Or if anyone wants it. I've got like... Two ideas for it. This became way longer than I ever intended it to lmao

real and true, all my cashiers WILL ask who's the closing manager when we ask if they can come in after someone calls out. A lot of them rely on rides too, so staying late is bad 😭 we all just wanna go home

also the cart thing may or may not have actually happened. It was a long day. My panic response is giggling apparently. No team members were hurt 🤓

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Book of the Damned: Part Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: Charlie found the Book of the Damned which has the spell to undo the curse of the Mark. You've made yourself clear but they're not listening to you. What better way to show Dean how serious you are than to hit him where it hurts: Your kids, Sam, and Charlie.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

"Where's the book?"

Charlie has no choice but to trust you. If Sam and Dean do then she does. Stupid girl. She walks over to the small coffee table as she explains its origins.

"Okay, here's what I've learned so far. About seven hundred years ago, a nun locked herself away after having visions of darkness. After a few decades squirreled away by herself, she emerged with this." She removes a cloth covering around the book. Your eyes immediately widen at the sight of it and your mark burns. Your head starts to feel fuzzy as the only thing you can think of is that book. "Each page is made out of slices of her own skin written in her blood. I told you, it's eekish." She hands the book to Sam and he starts flipping through the pages. "According to the notes I found, it's been owned and used by cults, covens, and the Vatican had it for a while. There's a spell inside that thing for everything like some black mass, dark magic, and end-of-times nastiness. As far as what language it's written in, I'm thinking it's some kind of...uh..."

"Dean? Dean!"

You and Dean snap out of whatever trance you're in only to see Dean standing in the kitchen with the book in his hands.

"What?" Sam and Charlie exchange concerned glances. "I don't think it's a good idea that I touch this."

Before Dean can give it back, you snatch it from his hands. You have to feel this at least once. Magic pours out of your hands in the form of a mist. The fuzziness in your head comes back and it pounds while the book screams at you to use it. You open it and look through the pages, immediately understanding the text. It's like it's written in English to you. Before you can get to the page regarding the Mark, Sam takes it out of your hands. You're not going to tell them you can read the book.

"Cool book," you nod.

"I'll go get the rest of our shit," Dean says and leaves the cabin.

"Me, too," you say and follow Dean outside.

"What the hell was that?" Charlie asks.

"They're not getting better. He's trying to cover and she's... Don't believe a word she says, okay? I don't think she's on our side."

"Why did you let her come?"

"I've learned very quickly that we don't let her do anything. She'll get whatever she wants but she cannot have this."

"Okay." Charlie nods.

Forget trying to destroy the book. You want it. That book contains the power you're craving. You'll get that book even if it means you have to kill them to do it. It doesn't hurt to know what you're up against. If the book is being tracked then there is someone or something that knows how powerful it is. They'll come for the book and will most likely be armed. That doesn't bother you but it doesn't hurt to know who they are. So, for right now, everyone and the book are safe.

You and Dean are sitting in the living room with a box from the bunker while Sam is sitting on the bed in the bedroom. The floor plan of the cabin is an open room so besides the fireplace in the middle of the room, you can see every inch of the place. There are no walls and doors separating you and Sam. Charlie is in the corner of the room drawing something on a piece of scratch paper. She gets up and walks over to you and Dean when she's finished.

"Okay, I got a pretty good look at his tattoo. It's something like this." 

Dean takes the paper but you see the drawing. It looks like an eagle with two heads turned away from each other. In the middle of the eagle is a cross that's sharp on the bottom.

"The douche clan. Got it. Well, this is everything the Men of Letters had on occult families, so there should be something in here."

"Sam, got anything?"

She leaves your side to join Sam's and Dean looks at you with narrowed eyes.

"Are you really on our side?"

"What do you think?" you smirk and take out a book from the box.

"I think you have a secret agenda and you're playing us."

"If you thought that, you wouldn't have let me come here," you chuckle.

Dean wants to hit someone but he refrains. Instead, he balls up his fist and you chuckle when you see them.

"Just tell me what you're up to and leave our kids out of it."

"Now if I told you, what fun would that be?"

You get up and leave Dean alone while looking at Sam. The Book of the Damned is open in front of him and it's taking everything in you not to go over there and grab it. You might be soulless with no emotions but you're not stupid. You have to play this right if you want things to go your way.

"From my best guess, this is all in an obscure Sumerian dialect. I actually found a rough match for it in this book," Sam says and holds up a different book.

"That's great," Charlie smiles.

"I thought so, too, but I've been translating and none of the translated words make any sense. It's all just gibberish. I mean, maybe it's in a different dialect?"

Charlie grabs Sam's notes and looks through them.

"No, I think you're right but I think it's in code."

"An entire book of unreadable text that's also in code. Great."

"And you call yourselves nerds. Come on. You got this," Dean says.

"He's right. Let's get our Alan Turing on and decrypt this bitch."

Sam looks up and sees both you and Dean staring at the book. He sees raw hunger in your eyes and longing in Dean's

"You know what, Charlie? Why don't we stick with my notes for a little bit? This book is literally making my eyes hurt."

Sam puts the book in the warded lock box, snapping you out of your trance. Just a little longer.

A few hours passed of reading, reading, and more reading. You're about to take the damn book and run when Dean stands up with a file in his hands.

"I found something. Those people following you are all kinds of wrong. I'm talking multi-generational, centuries-old wrong. The Styne family. Men of Letters' files have them dated back to the early 1800s. They used spells to create disease and to destabilize markets. Hell, they even helped the Nazis before they came into power, and they profited from all of it." Dean hands the file over to Charlie just as Sam joins her on the couch. "All the spells they used came from a book of 'unspeakable evil' which they lost nearly a hundred years ago."

"Okay, so they're bad. So what? We faced worse."

"Sam read the file," Dean sighs. "The way the book works is when you use it, there is a negative reaction. I'm talking biblical negative. Dark magic always comes with a price. We know that. We've been down that road before."

"Well, let's at least translate it and see what it says," Charlie says.

"I bet the Scarlet Witch can decode it," you smirk.

"Like hell, you're using the book. Not going to happen. End of story."

"You guys don't understand. The book's been calling out to me ever since I laid eyes on it, okay? I'm pretty sure it's been doing the same for Y/N here. It's calling out to the Mark. I can hear it like it's alive. It wants me to use it but not for good. Look, I wanted it to be the answer too, okay? I really did, but we have got to get rid of that. Burn it, bury it, I don't give a damn. We'll just have to find another way to fix the Mark."

"Like what?" Sam asks and stands up.

"I don't know."

"You're giving up?"

"No, I'm not giving up. Charlie, I don't have a death wish. Okay, even if I did, I can't die, not with this thing on my arm. What I can do is I can fight it as long as I can until--"

"Until what? Tell me. Until what, Dean? Until I watch you become a demon again? Until then? I can't do that. I won't do that."

"Well, then you'll just have to lock me up. Bind me to the bunker like you did last time."

"That doesn't solve anything," Charlie says.

"Look, just let us translate the book, okay? If there's a cure, we'll do it and deal with the consequences later. I can't lose you."

"This is my cross to bear, Sam! Mine! That book is not the answer! Now we have to destroy it before it falls into the wrong hands, and that includes me and Y/N!"

Before Sam and Charlie get too heated, you put a hand on his shoulder and lean up so your mouth is next to his ear. To Sam and Charlie, you're whispering when really, you're manipulating. You can't let him burn the book. You can't let him destroy it.

"Listen to them, Dean. Let them decode it. Know its power before you decide what to do with it. Listen to them, Dean. Let them decode it."

As you're whispering, you send a stream of magic into his ear to cloud his brain. He relaxes under your touch and before you know it, he's completely under your control.

"You guys are right," Dean says. "Decode the thing. We should know its power before we decide what to do with it."

He walks away and goes to the kitchen for something to drink. Sam and Charlie look at you with confused looks.

"What did you do to him?" Sam asks.

"Does it matter? Decode it. I'll be back. It's getting stuffy in here. Plus, we forgot your snacks, Charlie."

Sam and Charlie feel much better without you in the cabin but they're worried about two things. What you did to Dean and what you're doing out there. It's fun to let them think you're off murdering people or conspiring against them when in reality, all you want is some damn food to eat. You'll get Charlie's snacks because you're tired of hearing her stomach rumble every five seconds.

x

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