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chevroletdean · 20 days ago

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spanking [sam winchester] ── ✮⋆˙

kinktober 2024 ship: sam x afab!fem!reader genre: smut to note/warnings: explicit – minors dni, vague descriptions of the reader, established relationship, fingering, dirty talk, orgasm denial, spanking as the title suggests ofc word count: 2.4k a/n: happy belated october, i guess. it was a busy month for me, but i wanted to at least finish the prompts i've put up on the list, even if it takes me into november!

You’re not even entirely sure how you ended up in this position.

Sam’s been awfully quiet, all day. If you didn’t know it any better, you’d say your boyfriend is in a bad mood. But his demeanor today is not so much glooming as it is brooding. He’s pensive, if anything. Focused.

The lead you two have been following is a complicated one. You’ve spent a good week on this case already and with each dead end, the frustration level increased. Sam and you are a good team, smart thinking and hard working.

But this is where you come to a parting of ways regarding hunting styles.

You know you’ll go crazy if you have to read one more word. You need a break, if only for a thirty minute nap. Or, judging by the soft growl of your stomach, maybe some food. Anything but more of this digging into a nothing-burger, pun intended. Sam on the other hand is too stubborn when it comes to this part of hunting; he’s not satisfied until he finds a clue.

You’d jokingly call him a nerd, were it not for the fact that you cherish this hard-working attitude of his. Good for him, but as for yourself, you’re definitely done for today.

“I’m beat, Sammy,” you groan and toss your laptop aside. “I can’t even look at another article anymore. The words are literally blurring before my eyes and you wanna know what they’re starting to spell out for me?”

French fries, burgers and chicken nuggets are the words floating around before your inner eye. If you mentally squint, you might see a chocolate milkshake thrown in there.

You wait for Sam to make a guess.

No response.

When you look over to your boyfriend, he’s right next to you – although you half expected to see an empty spot with how silent the room has been for the last couple of hours. He’s seated on his side of the bed still, back straight against the headboard, a heavy book in his lap. His eyes are glued to the pages and his brows are knitted tightly together in deep concentration.

He had a habit of using bookmarks, but keeping it lodged in the last spot until he’d put the book away again. You see it peeking out from somewhere in the middle and estimate that he’s flipped about fifty pages ahead already. He’s only started reading this book this morning.

You pout and nudge Sam’s side in a desperate attempt for some of his attention.

The only response you get then is an unenthusiastic: “Hm?” Even then he doesn’t bother peeling his eyes off the book.

You know you have to test him.

“They’re spelling: Aw, shucks, I forgot to put on a pair of panties tonight and all I can think about is Sam’s hands between my thighs, making me cum on his fingers,” you ramble dryly, carefully gouging out his reaction. Which is non-existent basically, disappointingly but unsurprisingly.

He doesn’t even stir at your lewd words. Then again, you know how difficult it is to distract him when he’s locked down into research-mode; from experience. He’s clearly not listening and considering the nature of your teasing words (and your own cranky state), you take offense to the fact that he’s prioritizing the stupid lore over his girlfriend right now.

You nudge him again, harder this time and he finally protests quietly as you smack his shoulder.

“What was that for?,” Sam huffs and at last he meets your gaze.

“Were you even listening?”

With another sigh, Sam closes the book in his lap at last, after sliding the bookmark between the pages. “Sorry, what was that?”

Your pout turns into a frown and you roll your eyes as if to silently say ‘Nope, it’s too late now.’ Instead, you cross your arms in front of your chest. “I need a break,” you summarize within an exasperated sigh. “Let’s grab something to eat, c’mon.”

“Actually,” Sam starts and you already know you don’t like where this is going. “I think I’m onto something here, but there’s some more of that salad bowl in the fridge, if you wanna take that.”

Scoffing, you climb out of bed and head out of the room. Your steps are bordering on stomping and it is only in the last second that you decide slamming the door behind you would be a tad too much. Part of you admires Sam for his diligence, but you’re also absolutely baffled that he can’t take a hint.

A break wouldn’t hurt him either and you honestly crave some quality time with your boyfriend instead of being stuck doing research with just a hunting buddy. Lately, it all feels way too distant, thanks to this stupid case.

Besides, a salad? You secretly hope there‘s something with a little more cholesterol in the kitchen, but as you open the fridge it’s practically empty. Sam and you have prepared a giant salad bowl for lunch earlier today, the leftovers of which don‘t exactly suit your current cravings, but they will have to suffice for now.

You know it would taste a whole lot better if Sam would be having dinner with you, but alas, you are eating by yourself. Once you’re finished, you don’t even bother to properly clean up. Although no longer starving, you’re still grumpy. Rightfully so, you decide when you enter your shared room again to find Sam in the exact same spot you left him. Seriously, he hasn’t even budged a little.

Another sigh leaves your lungs, “You’re still reading? Find anything yet?”

“Nothing.”

Another ten pages or so, you guess from the space between the bookmark and his thumb. He’s read another ten pages in the time you’ve somewhat filled your belly with vegetables – and he’s still not done.

Rolling your eyes, you allow yourself to fall back into bed, shoving your laptop aside purposefully. You might not be hangry anymore, but you’re still cranky and frankly, touch-starved. Some attention from your boyfriend really shouldn’t be too much to ask for, after all.

However, your decision to scoot closer to Sam isn’t exactly rewarded with any enthusiasm. Even as you wrap your arm around his middle and mumble something about an after-dinner nap, Sam’s persistent on ignoring you. Even if it’s not on purpose, the rejection makes you feel rather neglected.

Beyond annoyed by his dismissal, you firmly nudge Sam’s arm up and drape yourself over his lap, replacing the book on his thighs with your head.

“Sweetheart-,” Sam groans, but thanks to your actions, the book slips out of his hands. “Do you mind?”

You muster a pout in his direction and watch as he flips through the book, trying to find the last page he was on. “Sorry,” you mumble, “for wanting to cuddle a little with my boyfriend.”

Sam’s counter-argument, whatever it was, dies on his tongue as he sees your frustrated scowl. “Fine, okay,” he mutters and shifts a little, adjusting your position so you’re comfortably lying across his lap. “Just this chapter, alright?”

Your counter-argument, whatever it was, is forgotten the second he combs his long fingers through your hair. You relax, laid down on your stomach across his lap and he places the book on your back, as if to hold you in place there. It’s better than nothing and you’re somewhat happy that he at least remembered his ability to multitask.

Needless to say, though, it’s far from enough – so can he really blame you when you squirm around restlessly?

After a couple of minutes, his free hand switches from patting your head to settling on your lower back. He traces the dip of it, running his palm across the curve of your ass before letting it rest on the back of your thighs. His thumb mindlessly strokes your inner thigh, making you arch into the touch.

“Sammy–,” you whine.

He gives your leg a warning squeeze and your breath hitches. The message is clear: He doesn’t want you to move a muscle, not even your tongue.

“This would be going way faster if a certain someone didn’t make me drop the book earlier,” he scolds, albeit his tone doesn’t hold much of an edge to it. It’s taunting enough for you to understand he’s playfully punishing you without holding any real resentment.

“But I–”

Smack.

You gasp as his palm lands on your rear in a quick motion. The sound echoes off the walls. The sting isn’t as painful as it is surprising. Instinctively, your back arches.

Sam’s voice is lowered, husky and stern, “You know how many pages you’ve made me reread?”

Before you can reply, he slaps your ass for the second time and instead of a coherent response, another yelp falls from your lips.

“Twelve,” Sam continues and gently but firmly presses the spine of his book onto the spine of your back, applying just enough pressure to keep you in place.

Against your better judgment you call him out on his bluff with a gruff, “If you know where you left off, then why are you rereading the–?”

Another slap interrupts your words, this one harder than the previous two. You whimper softly and feel heat creeping up your neck and down your core. Clearly Sam doesn’t appreciate you talking back, although his large hand smoothes over the fabric of your jeans in an almost apologetic manner.

“Don’t get smart with me, baby,” he scolds, flips to the next page, and pats your ass again, lighter this time. “Eight more to go, think you can keep count?”

You blush and nod, coyly, which only earns you yet another smack down your ass.

“Words, princess,” Sam reminds you.

“Yes,” you sob softly. “S-seven more to go.”

Seemingly satisfied, Sam’s fingers dance down to the apex of your thighs, soothingly massaging your tender flesh through the thick denim. “Good girl,” he hums.

Your fingers curl into fists around the bed sheets as you feel Sam’s hand wander around your hip and towards the front of your pants. With practiced ease he unbuttons them, before tugging the fabric down. Your breath hitches in your throat as he yanks the waistband over your butt, down to your mid-thighs.

As the chill air hits your bare skin, a shudder runs down your spine.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Sam rasps. “You weren’t lying about not wearing any panties, huh?”

Squeezing your thighs together, you flush in embarrassment. So he was listening to you after all? Bastard was just waiting to use it against you at the perfect time!

Sam’s hand travels between your legs and you stiffen as you feel his fingertips ghost across your folds, as if he intends to flip them like the pages. The soft rustling of paper above you confirms your suspicions that he’s still occupied with the book, speaking of. As he flips the page again, his palm connects to your bare skin once more.

You cry out softly and shakily, your head dropping low as you struggle to stay still.

A deep chuckle reverberates above you, “What’s wrong, forgot your numbers?”

Flip.

Smack!

“Six, five!,” you whimper, continuing to count down.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?,” Sam placates, letting his fingers slip between your thighs again. “This is what you wanted, no? My hands all over you? How’d you phrase it again?”

His fingers glide through your soft heat, which is already slick with arousal. You moan when his index and middle finger reach your clit to circle it slowly. Another whimper is all you can manage as you buck your hips, desperate for more friction.

“Making you cum all over my fingers, was it?” Sam whispers.

His digits tease your hole, only to withdraw a second later.

“I asked you a question,” he sighs, feigning a thinning patience. “Can’t even remember her own words, but is desperate enough to try and distract and tease me, so naughty.”

“Y-yes,” you answer. “Was talking ‘bout how I want you t’make me cum on your fingers.”

Flip. Smack!

You fail to stifle your sobbing. Your skin feels raw and you can only guess how reddened it is in color by the ache his touch causes afterwards. He always runs a soothing hand across the spot he just hit, but all it does is solidify the tingling sensation.

“Let’s see if I can help you with that,” Sam muses, pretending to be only half-interested. “After… how many pages again?”

“Four,” you say through gritted teeth, fully aware of his little game here.

“Right, four more pages,” Sam echoes and rewardingly squeezes your thigh again. The burn on your ass remains untouched for now, as does the ache of your soaking pussy. “Be a good girl and let me finish them, hm?”

He takes his time as he does and you’re left to wait in his lap, unable to move much. The only indication of what’s coming is the familiar sound of paper rustling, followed by him spanking you again. Four turns into three, into a two, and the agonizing one.

By the time he’s reached the last page, your head feels light and heavy all at once. You’re dizzy and sore, an uncomfortable numbness spreading down your bottom.

“Sammy,” you whine impatiently.

“Shh,” he shushes and briefly kneads your tender flesh. “Don’t make me start over.”

That’s enough to shut you up, but you’re still panting breathlessly in his lap, silently waiting for him to put the book aside.

Finally, he flips to the last page. You bite your tongue, that pretty round ass of yours arching up as if you were trying to get his hands on you more than he was. Fully prepared to feel his palm again, the word ‘Zero’ lingers on the tip of your tongue.

The impact never comes.

Instead, Sam places the bookmark between the pages, closes it and places it aside. Confused, you try to sit up, but he nudges you back down by the hips, pinning you to his lap. He shoves his other hand down your legs, thrusting a finger right into your soppy cunt.

“Time to reward my girl for being so patient,” Sam purrs. He adds another finger, pumping both in and out of you while his thumb finds your sensitive clit. “No cumming before I say zero, got it?”

The sound that escapes your lungs is half moan half protesting sob and fully incohesive response, “Please.”

“So clingy and needy for me,” Sam teases, curling his fingers inside you to hit the spongy spot within you. “You’ve held on ‘till now, what’s another countdown from twelve?”

credit & links: ao3 ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request here taglist: comment a book emoji 📚 to be added to the sam x reader taglist (please note: ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts)

@s7nburn @figurantedefilme

#dividers by inklore #sam winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #sam x reader #sam smut #sam winchester x you #sam x you #sam winchester one shot #spnsc #spnsmut #spn x reader #spn x you #supernatural x you #chevroletdean writes #chevroletdean's kinktober #scenario #kinktober

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ollybenrio · 2 months ago

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I’m gonna get my thoughts and predictions out before the new Chaos Theory season comes out.

I think, genuinely, they’ve gotten all the ships and relationships set up to bring together the endgame couples. they’re setting all these relationships up so that when the real endgame plots happen, it hits us harder, gives us more of a deeper plot.

So far what i think is going to happen to the current in CANON couples we see/have;

Sammy and Yas: YES endgame, a beginning couple that they plan to keep.

Kenji and Brooklyn: NOT endgame, a beginning couple they gave for those who enjoy it, but as of now (chaos theory s1), it’s grown deeply complicated, and has made us dislike them (atleast me, they grew unhealthy for eachother). Gives plot and “complication” to future Kenji & Brooklyn relationships, gives us shock factor, entertainment for when/if future relationships with different people occur.

How i think it’ll end up;

Brooklyn and Darius: YES endgame. CT s1 we already see Darius has a crush on her, and we’ve previously (cc) seen them with lots of romantic history and chemistry. Most (?) of the fandom prefers them, and the creators know this (they also are not the type to ignore what fans want!). They’ve foreshadowed this relationship in s1 during the abandoned house scene (with that weird tub) where Kenji gets mad at Darius for liking her (I think?) but later towards the end of the season, we can see them forgiving each other, which MAY be forshadowing and giving that underlying feeling that Kenji is okay with Darius/Brooklyn, and that technically, they don’t like each other anymore, so Darius can do whatever he wants, even if that means dating her.

Ben and Kenji: YES endgame. We’ve already gotten tons of chemistry and dare i say, romantic history, with these two. that whole monorail scene where Kenji wears Bens “dork pouch” for ever? they were testing the waters with that. we know these creators aren’t scared of putting lgbtq relationships out there, so we know this also has plenty of potential. We know they didn’t interact so much during ct s1 but that whole egg scene with Speckles? that was a little… yk. They fit perfectly especially since everyone else is already going down their endgame routes with others that aren’t these guys. so in the end, they put these two together.

as a writer, and person who has watched plenty of movies and read books, i can see the route writers will go for things like this. it’s not always about preference, but where things/characters slot in. in relationships, these couples all make sense for endgame purposes. They gave us Kenji x Brooklyn for those who wanted it (more than enough seasons, might i add) so know they’ll feed the others who like Kenji x Ben and those who like Brooklyn x Darius. it all makes sense in the end.

let me know your thoughts on this!!

#ben x kenji #brooklyn x darius #sammy x yasmina #kenji x brooklyn #jurassic world chaos theory #chaos theory #camp cretaceous #ben pincus #brooklyn #darius bowman #sammy gutierrez #yasmina fadoula #kenji kon #thoughts #ideas #predictions

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520cafe · 1 year ago

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sour grapes. matching keychains

you and dan heng decided to arrive at the very same cafe where march and the others simultaneously ditched you both as an attempt to unfold the rocky and complicated relationship that you shared with dan heng but, you both were also playing mind games just to avoid talking about a certain topic: the current state of the relationship.

"since when did you drink lattes, dan heng?"

after a successful somewhat awkward-free trip to the cafe, dan heng offered to walk you back to your dorm. stalling, you both stood outside your dorm and you ultimately decided that you were not ready to face kafka in a humiliating spotlight for forgetting the room keys.

"not sure, i’ve started drinking them for a while now."

"they're good aren't they? i've only ever seen you drink black coffee."

dan heng could not help but to send you a small smile; it was faint but still possessed some form of tenderness towards you. the fact that you still remember his preferences and habits felt as if red chrysanthemums were blooming inside his heart. little did you know, lattes reminded dan heng of you.

"hey.. maybe i could teach you how to make lattes some day?"

wait.. why did i ask that? there was a slight hesitation in your voice but it was all brushed away by dan heng when his only thoughts were filled with surprise that he has an opportunity to spend more time with you, alone.

“i would like that, [name]."

again, it was the way your name rolled perfectly off his voice that made you feel nervous. it gave you a mixed sensation of fluster but also uncertainty. why did i feel this way?

before you could respond, you were suddenly met with dan heng's cold touch delicately holding your hand as if it was a piece of glass. however, that touch felt as if there an electric shock in the short moment where your hands were together. slightly jolting, you looked at him with wide eyes until you felt him place another cold object on the palm on your hands.

looking at the object on your hand, you could only feel further astonishment as your lips slightly parted. the object that dan heng placed on your hand was a small white cat keychain that was attached to a spare set of keys to dan heng’s dorm. that white keychain used to be yours during your past relationship with dan heng and dan heng held the black cat keychain that was matching with yours.

when you looked up from your hand, it was only then you realised that dan heng already left. as you looked at the small keychain that was surprisingly neatly-kept, it felt as if the bittersweet memories started to flood your mind like a never-ending string of polaroids. then, you internally face palmed yourself at your sudden realisation. did i seriously just invite my ex for more one-on-one alone time? it was as if your heart had a mind of its own and was controlling your every action.

and that rolling snowball of conflicting emotions only grew bigger.

🍇 SOUR GRAPES 〈 13 matching keychains

━━ MASTERLIST. ╱ PREV. ╱ NEXT.

╰► SYNOPSIS. after being in the same tight-knit friend group for over a few months now, suspicions begin to rise when march, seele and bronya start to notice the awkward tensions between you and dan heng. little did they know, you and dan heng were once high-school sweethearts who shared a romantic and fairytale-like past where the pages only lasted for a year. this heartbreak led you to meet another unfortunate victim of cupid but that chapter flew away as quick as stardust. yet, it appears that you two were also destined to cross paths once more.

╰► [ a/n ] : YES DAN HENG IS A BEABADOOBEE LISTENER WHAT ABOUT IT also last written chapter for act one yipeee ‼️ANDDD act one is ending very soon with only 2 more chapters left 🤭

━━ TAGLIST. @lauvwar-r @sunsethw4 @shizu-c @amyena @zephestia @loudeggbananaranch @lunavixia @twistedrxses @shinjuuz @danhenglovebot @flos-veritatis @sammy-hammy @kiwidoves @aeongiies @heartswonder @lilactaro @lunnaeclipse @m1lley0ns @hansel-the-pierrot @astro-pioneer @aquatikk @obervation-subject-753 @vellichxrr6782 @rubberduckieyourtheone @viovya @stayriki @ceylestia @starryeyedkoko @theflameofyoursoul @kalims @liminalimmortal

#🍇 ━━ SOUR GRAPES !#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr dan heng #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #honkai star rail smau #hsr smau #honkai star rail fanfic #hsr fanfic #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader

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palmtreesx3 · 10 months ago

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Act 4 - Going All the Way

Queening (Steve's Chapter)

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Queening Mood Board

Summary: (10.6k) Steve’s phone call with his dad does not go well, and the aftermath of that call impacts way more than Steve himself. Steve has to realize a few things, only one of which is that he’s got people there to pick him up when he’s down, but the most important is that relationships don’t have to be conditional. As everyone rallies behind Steve, a revelation comes in the form of a stranger on a bench, and that chance meeting starts a few wheels in motion behind Steve’s pretty head. Can he fix what he’s done when he was down and out? Can he patch things up? Is this the end of the road, or can he go all the way? Buckle up, and enjoy this angsty chapter of Get Off.

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Heavier topics are explored, depicted or mentioned including prejudice and anti-gay bias, heavy binge drinking as escapism, depression and a blink of thinking better off dead, controlling parents, overstimulation and some dashes of neurotypical behavior you can catch if you blink slowly enough. There’s also the ongoing sexual innuendos and explicit discussion of body parts, as well as implied p+v intercourse, and the holy grail of pussyeating.

"What the hell is going on, son?" his father's voice bellowed through the phone. "I just heard from a colleague that you're working in some... some pornographic store downtown! In town for business and he could have sworn he saw your lookalike walking into the place, but then you turned around and he knew it was my own flesh and blood. How goddamned embarrassing, Stephen. Do you know how embarrassing that conversation is to have over a business dinner?"

Steve winced at the tone his father took, a visceral response he’s had since childhood. A tone he knows well and somehow still cuts just as deep as it did when he was thirteen. "Dad, it's not like that. It's just a job. It’s…it’s retail, s’all it is" he stammered, attempting to diffuse the tension. To deflect. To play ball.

His father scoffed, "Retail job? Don't play games with me. I've spent years paying for whatever you need, trying to get you scholarships for sports which you squander away with your shitty grades, and this is what you end up doing? Sitting on your ass for a few years and working in some seedy place, peddling who knows what!"

"It's not like that at all. It's just a store, and we sell lots of things, not…not just that stuff, Dad." Steve tries desperately to explain, slipping right back into it - the role of a boy trying to find any excuse to satiate a father that could never be pleased. Like the time he was a shameful teenage boy being told he’s worthless as he stood in the entryway of the house, barely over the threshold, all because he passed the ball and let Sammy Curtis sink the game winning shot instead of taking it himself.

"That stuff” he interrupts with a scoff. “Is this what I raised you for? I expected you to have a respectable career by now. Thought this move to the city was going to give you some fresh choices, not this... this filth!"

Steve was not ready for this. Half his hangover was still hanging on for dear life. Just a moment ago things were…not this complicated. He was eating a raw bagel talking about…you…with his friend. Even when that was the thing that felt complicated it wasn't really, was it? It was simple, and easy and… Now he’s struggling to find the words to defend himself, especially hard long-distance, though he also guesses he should be grateful it was - he wasn’t forced to see the rage and disappointment behind his father’s eyes this particular time."Dad, it's just a job. We needed work, and this opportunity came up. It doesn't define who I am. I just…it shouldn’t matter that much."

“Just a job? Stephen? What do you mean just a job?” At that, Steve can hear his voice slip into a deeper register. He knows the face that goes along with this. He knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his father is going to try and ruin his life. It’s not much of one, but it’s his, and he can just tell that he’s about ready to pull the rug out from under him.

“You're 25, for God's sake! When are you going to get a real job, a job that befits the family name? Do you think your mother and I worked so hard for you to end up in some disgraceful position like this? Galavanting around a city and being a part in all this promiscuity. Goddamnit, at this rateI bet you even associate with the gays. Don’t you?"

He feels his body tense and wince as those words spill out of his fathers mouth. His eyes flit to his friend, sitting on the couch, legs tucked up under her and perched there watching one side of this debacle unfold like a deer in headlights. Forcing a smile at him, an awkward smile of encouragement, none the wiser about the hate his father is spewing about people like… about her. Tears welled up in Steve’s eyes thinking about it and Robin sees them - or at least she thinks she does - and her eyebrows furrow in concern. But before she can be sure, he turns around refusing to show his vulnerability right now even to her. He bites his lip to stifle the visceral response he had to his dad’s prejudices about his friend. "Dad, I'm doing my best. I'm trying to make a living and figure things out. It's not as easy as you think."

His father's tone softened with a hint of disappointment unlike the frustration and anger that has been flowing out of him since the minute Steve picked up the phone. In almost a plea, he says "You're embarrassing us, son. This is not the life I envisioned for you. You need to reconsider your choices and start acting like an adult."

After a brief silence, his father's voice returned, this time laced again with frustration - the softness that just fell was all an act. This is the hammer Steve was expecting, and it’s falling. Right now. "Enough of this nonsense. You're coming back home. I've arranged for a position for you in the firm. You'll start immediately. Stability, respect – those are the things you need. Not whatever you're doing in that disgraceful place."

Steve ran his free hand through his hair, shaking his head but not really knowing what to say. Dragging his hand back down his face, he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The pressure to conform to his father's expectations had been a constant weight on his shoulders for his entire life and this is not the first time this conversation has been had. This time feels different though. Before he hadn’t had anything to call his own - not as much to lose. This stupid apartment and the life that they’re living, it’s been good. Maybe the best thing that he’s ever had. And it’s been his. Before, his dad just wanted control. This time, he wants to control him and strip him of the actual identity he’s been working so hard to understand and build. "Dad, I... I need some time to figure things out here. I can't just drop everything and come back."

His father's tone grew more insistent. "Time? You've had enough time, and look where it's gotten you – working in a place like that! It's time to put an end to this foolishness. You're coming back, and that's final."

Steve hesitated, torn between his desire for independence and the fear of his dad. He takes a deep breath and finally responds "I appreciate your concern, but I need to make my own choices. I can't just give up on everything I've built here."

"Built? You call this building a life? What have you accomplished, working in that... that den of immorality? Come home, and I'll set you on the right path. It's time you take responsibility for your future."

As his father continued to insist, Steve’s yearning to forge his own path and avoid any that looks remotely like his fathers continues to intensify. He’s tuning out the insults at this point, desperate to find some sort of life raft to hold on to as he drowns in his fathers disappointments. It’s only then, that he finds it. The lifeline. The realization that he's got miles between him and his father now. He’s not coming home later to ground him or impose punishments on him. He isn’t relying on their money to pay bills. His mind is racing a mile a minute, and nothing…not one fucking thing he can land on points to any reason that he has to comply with his father. He isn’t depending on him for anything anymore, so why does he owe his dad anything at all?

"I'll think about it, Dad," And with that, he hangs up, knowing full well that he won’t think about it for another goddamn second.

And that day, Steve called out of work.

Robin couldn’t even argue with him. After the receiver hit the wall, she could tell that it was worse than she expected the minute he turned around and she could see his eyes glistening. She also was confused as fuck, because she swore she also saw him smirking just a little bit, but she was not going to poke the bear. She let him storm off and slam the door to his room. She didn’t bother him even though everything inside of her was screaming to go knock on the door and make him talk about it. Make him listen to her. She wanted to tell him he wasn’t anything that his father probably just said he was, but they’ve had this conversation before and…damnit she was working really hard at knowing boundaries - trying to read the room and figure out when she needs to shut up instead of rambling incessantly at all the wrong times. She thinks that this is one of those times that people need space, so she acquiesced.

She makes a full pot of coffee, sets out some more food and the bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet and leaves it all out on the kitchen counter for Steve for whenever he emerges once she’s gone. Subtle. Not every way to help has to be in your face, she tells herself. I don’t need to meddle. He’ll let me know if he needs anything. Right?

Robin’s walk to work that day was quiet and dreary. The weather outside, overcast and air thick with that feeling that comes before the clouds break open and pour down on you. Seemed fitting.

It took Robin five whole minutes after she got to work and put her stuff away before she meddled anyway. She picked up the phone once, and quickly set it down - thinking better of it. But immediately picked it back up against her better judgment and called you. As your answering machine picks up and your message plays, dripping with sarcasm and coyness asking your caller to leave a message after the beep, the realization hits then that she has no idea what your schedule is and it was a dumb idea to call you. Dumb dumb dumb. Steve’ll be pissed anyway.

As the silence settles on the other end of the line Robin’s eyes widen in panic. She meant to hang up, call back later, pretend this didn’t happen at all and play it off as a wrong number. But she’s pretty fucking sure she just said that out loud instead of in her head. “Dumb dumb dumb. Steve’ll be pissed anyway.”

She hung up faster than the devil can fly, slamming down the phone and rattling the display case. The commotion drew Murry out from the back office, shirt pulled up and scratching at his stomach. “What’s got you all worked up Red? Little lost without your other half? Where is he anyway? Finally ruined his perfect attendance because of a wicked hangover, didn’t he? Make sure you tell ‘em he’s not eligible for the Perfect Attendance award this year, nowwww–ohhh something is off about this... What is it Red?.”

So for the next hour, Robin tries her best to summarize what it’s like to have the Harrington’s as parents and what just happened this morning. At least what she knew, because Steve hadn’t shared anything that his dad had said on the other end of that line. “Red, thank God you talk so fast, otherwise that story would have taken up your whole shift. Shit.”

That coaxes a chuckle out of Robin, which makes Murray smile. “Listen, that guy sounds like a Grade-A Asshole. No wonder Steve’s wound so tight…Makes so much sense actually. But this ain’t your fight. Steve’s gotta deal with this demon on his own and he has a funny way of showing it, but he knows where to find the people to help when he needs them. I’m sure of it. He’s not that fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, see you’re wrong there Murray. He does absolutely think that he has to do everything on his own. Even when he knows we’re here, he won’t… he won’t ask for help. He won’t talk about it. He…thinks he deserves it.”

It ended up being a slow day, not many people wandering the streets with the off and on drizzles happening all day long, so Robin used that time to bring Alex up to speed after she popped in the shop after work.

Alex found the story surprisingly relatable. She grew up in a house with rich, successful parents just outside the city in the suburbs. Her parents hosted lavish dinner parties for business partners and she grew up in a way that seemed an awful lot like the Harrington house, other than the fact that they didn’t disappear on her for weeks on end. Her parents, however, were disappointed in her. Unlike Steve’s story, they were not pissed at her skill or her work ethic, her dreams or aspirations. No, they were pissed and disappointed at who was calling the house late at night and giggling on the other end of the phone. Who was picking her up for a night at the movies, or who she was driving off to meet under the swaying trees in the park. The boys she was dating were not good enough for the family - not a “strong enough merger of families” and then when she brought home a girl…well that was a horse of a different color all together.

Five hours later, Robin and Alex are standing outside of their favorite pizza place in the neighborhood, thinking that a pie and some beers might just draw a sulking Steve out of his cave of self-loathing for the night. They haven’t heard from him all day, and Robin, despite thinking she should maybe let him be for a while, still decided to try and call home to check in on him. When he didn’t answer, Alex offered up a simple explanation, “Rob, he’s probably just sleeping it off, or not in the mood. It’ll be fine.”

Pies and six packs now acquired, they walk side by side the rest of the way back to the apartment, ready for whatever their friend might need.

“Honey, we’re home!” Robin exclaims, as they barrel through the door. But she stops dead in her tracks seeing the counter laid out with all of the supplies, perfectly arranged exactly how she left them that morning. “Steve? Y’okay?”she shouts down the hallway, on her way to tap at his door before she hears Alex call her name from the living room, beckoning her to come.

When she arrives, what she doesn’t expect to see are the crushed cans of High Life strewn all over the coffee table, an ashtray so full that she knew he had to blow through most of the pack he has tucked away from when they drink, and the half emptied bottle of Whiskey sitting at the foot of the couch. He didn’t even bother with a glass, she knew it. He spent the day trying to drink away the awful things that sorry excuse for a father said to him straight from the bottle.

His shoes - the Chucks, the ones he’s been wearing lately - they’re not by the door. Neither is his jacket, so she knows he left and went somewhere.

But then a high pitched beeping sings from the kitchen, and Robin immediately knows that Steve’s Tamagotchi is hungry…he left, but he forgot his keys. That stupid drunk idiot got locked out.

All the strings Robin has been holding together all day come loose. They unravel like a dangling thread on a handknit sweater and Alex is pretty sure she hadn’t taken one breath since she started rambling. “Ohmygoddoyouthinkhe’sokay? Whatifsomethinghappenedtohim? Ican’tlivewithmyself. Howdoweevenfindhim? OhmygodI’mgonnahavetotellthekidshe’smissing. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”

“Robin.” Alex calmly speaks.

“Ifhe’sdeadI’mblaminghisdad,Isweartogodhe’sasgoodasadeadmanhimself”

“Robin.”

“Jesus,weshouldcallthehopsital? Ormaybethepolice. Yeahwegottacallsomeone. Ohmygod.”

“ROBIN!” Alex finally screams, two hands on her shoulders now shaking her into some sense of reality. “You’re spiraling. You can’t be spiraling. We have to think.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just….”

“Rob, I know you’re worried. We’ll figure it out. Okay?” Alex slides her hand along Robin’s cheek, around her neck and tugging her in for a deep hug, trying to get her to reset, regroup…focus. “Babe, first thing….why do you think he would leave?”

Pulling back, she assesses the situation. Eyes darting around the apartment, closing her eyes so she could think. Just then they pop open looking at the mess on the coffee table. The beer. That was the last of the beer.

“He was out…” she whispers. “I bet he ran out of beer. That was all we had, and it looks like he polished it off.”

“Okay then. Let’s go for a walk. Check some places where he might get some beers - maybe the corner store you guys go to? See if anyone has seen him, okay? Sound good babe?” Alex’s tone is cool, calm. Her eyes are caring and concerned not just for Steve but also for Robin. She’s being so soft, and even in her panicked haze, Robin notices.

“Al…Thank you. I needed that.”

With a soft kiss on her temple, Alex grabs Robin’s hand and tugs her towards the door. “Now don’t forget your keys, either, you maniac. Let’s go.”

It’s three pit stops and two meltdowns from Robin on the sidewalk curb later that they find him. It’s honestly the first place they should have looked, but at least they were on the right track.

Steve did, in fact, get raging pissed that he was out of beer. The cashier they recognize, but don’t know his name, told them as much - mentioned that their friend came in angry and stumbling, grabbed a pack of beer and left it in the middle of the aisle when he rushed out of the store grumbling to himself. It seems as though dear Stevie also forgot his wallet.

The next place they thought to look was The Hideout. Robin thought that maybe he’d come looking for her, begging for some cash so he could replenish his stash. Pay no mind to the fact that it was past closing for a weeknight and Robin was long gone, at this point they were absolutely certain Steve had no idea what time it even was. Half expecting to see him leaning on the door of the shop, or passed out in a slump on the front stoop, when they came up empty handed again Robin needed to cry.

Head in her hands, leaning on her knees as she sits on the curb, Alex tries to stifle a laugh at how splotchy faced and snotty her beautiful girl is right now. “Baby,” she says, pushing back her hair “Baby…let’s think, kay? is there anywhere else Steve feels safe in this city? Who else does he feel safe with other than you?”

The revelation comes quickly.

Head popping up with a renewed sense of confidence in their search for their missing and probably sloppily drunk friend “I bet he’s at Bennys.”

And after a 10 minute walk that is the most silent Robin Buckley has ever been in her entire life, she lets out a breath that she may or may not have been holding the entire time when the door to Benny’s swings open and she takes in Steve with his forehead on the bar. Hopper is standing behind the bar polishing glasses with an irritated scowl and right in front of Steve stands a Joyce, hand right on top of his with sad, concerned eyes that flit right to the girls who just sounded the bell.

Pitiful. The look Joyce was giving him was pity. And if Steve were coherent enough to realize it, he would be completely ashamed to be receiving it from anyone. Steve was shitfaced drunk out of shame and disappointment and whatever feelings of inadequacy he was shielding away from everyone else in his life, but at least he was safe. Thank Christ he had the decency to come to Benny’s, where at least Joyce would take care of him - make sure he doesn’t do anything else stupid.

“Steve!” Robin yells, rushing over to his side “Steve, we didn’t know where you were. And you left your keys. I was so worried. We thought you were dead, I swear….well I thought you were dead. Alex was much more rational, but…”

A groan falls from Steve’s throat as their attention turns to Joyce. She opens her mouth to speak but Hopper interjects before she could even get a word out.

“Your buddy here is a fucking mess. He’s lucky this is Rick’s third stop on his daily tour of downtown dive bars. Recognized the bastard and drug him over here after he got kicked out of wherever they were before this. I honestly don't know where. Ricky’s always so drunk I probably shouldn't even be serving him by the time he gets here anyway.``

“Steve, honey.” Joyce’s honey soft voice stirs him “Your girls are here. Rob and Alex, they’re here for you, baby. Let them help you, okay? Y’cant stay here like this.” She says as she rubs his hair back and tries to soothe him awake.

“He’s been drinking straight ginger ale for at least an hour. He thinks it's mixed with whiskey but I just couldn't. It was easier than him and Hop arguing ‘bout it.” she says under her breath, just out of his earshot.

After agreeing to let him sweat it out for a bit longer, Joyce passes the girls a drink while they wait and slides another ginger ale in a rocks glass in front of Steve with a wink. With soft voices they talk about what has unfolded today just loud enough to hear each other over the din of the jukebox playing “Hunger Strike” in the background.

Shit.

As she hears the deep roll of his voice on Eddie Vedder’s verse she’s reminded of you, and remembers the cryptic message she most likely left you on your answering machine. Even though the boy is sitting there in the flesh in front of them, his eyes now open enough to see the whites of them, his stare is vacant and he hasn’t looked this way since… well. Ever. Robin has seen him through some pretty serious shit, and he’s never looked quite this detached.

“I’m worried about him, girls.” Joyce coos.

With a nod in agreement, she asks for the only thing she can think to do next. “Joyce, can I use your phone? I gotta call someone who might be able to help.”

Alex’s eyes go wide and she winces, “You sure that’s a good idea, Rob? I mean, I see where you’re going with this, but he’s gonna be pissed, isn’t he?’

Seeing the look of confusion on Joyce’s face, Robin grabs the phone and continues “It’s..a girl. He’s fine. It’ll be fine. I don’t care if he’s pissed about it at this point. We need help and… I might have already left her a message earlier in a panic. Oh - Hey!” interrupted in her rambling as you answer the phone on the first ring. “Yeah, yeah I’m so sorry about that weird message earlier. It’s been a… day - a real bad one. We need some help. We’re at Benny’s, and…it’s just - Steve. We need help with Steve, can you come?”

Of course you will. You were there to help as soon as you could. And just like Robin and Alex assumed, Steve was pissed.

“I'm just saying Stevie, you didn't have to be so mean to her. She came because I called. Didya really expect the two of us to be able to drag your sorry ass home without calling in reinforcement? Have you seen my arms? They're basically twigs!”

“I wasn't trying to be mean to her. It was you guys. I was pissed you called her…cause I didn't… It's embarrassing. She didn't need to see me like that. I know you were trying to help. You can barely carry a damn grocery bag, so I get it, its just… I was pathetic.”

“Well. You said it, I didn't.” Robin shrugs, kicking her feet up on the stool next to her by the register. It's been a few days and they're at least able to poke fun a little bit at the whole thing. Steve and Rob had a long talk after he was able to shake off a two day long hangover that he spent in the dark, shades drawn - crackers and some Pedialyte by his bedside.

Steve eventually spilled his guts to Robin on the fire escape while she smoked, his throat still too sore from the pack he inhaled in his drunken rage that day. He wouldn't even look at her when he told her about how his dad was talking about… her. Told her that there's been a lot of terrible, downright rude things that his dad has done and said over the years that he's made an excuse for or ignored, but that…that disregard, that intolerance he showed for someone that Steve cared about. That when it comes down to it, Steve loved. That was the last straw. He couldn't turn a blind eye anymore.

He didn't feel he owed his dad an explanation. If he really thought Steve would show up this weekend with his bags and his Beamer ready to put on a suit and head to the office alongside his dad on Monday, he has another thing coming.

Murray saunters into the storefront then “Before I finalize this schedule, ya sure you're gonna show up on Monday, dude? Last chance to turn in your notice and go shadow daddy dearest, because if you no call no show me on this schedule next week consider this bridge burned.”

“No way in hell, Murray. I'm fully committed to your dick shop. I'll sell anything you dream up over spending one hour in a building full of pricks like my dad. Don't care how much the salary is or how big the guilt trip.”

“Well in that case, Steve, it sounds to me that where your dad works is the real dick shop, huh? We…deal only in one way tickets to pleasure town here.”

“Touche” Steve gives Murray a pow pow with his finger guns before walking through the dangling beads hanging at the entrance to the break room.

Emerging twenty minutes later (and five minutes late from his break) Steve is unsurprised to find Alex spread across the length of the couch. “What are you two assholes doing?”

“Hi Alex, thanks again for saving my life and ensuring I don't die in a ditch or need my stomach pumped from alcohol poisoning and ensuring that my most magnetic and caring roommate and best friend didn't have a stroke while I was missing. It's nice to see you again. I am forever in your debt.” Alex mocks with a deep voice meant to imitate his while Robin cackles, slapping her thighs.

“Smash or pass” she deadpans. “Julia Roberts.”

“Pass” Steve and Robin say in unison.

“Really?” Alex pops up in surprise.

“I guess I just don’t get the appeal with that one. I like her movies, though, just…don’t wanna see her bush. No rolling in the hay with her for me.” Robin says very matter of factly.

“Yeah, for me” Steve quips pointing right at Robin. “Reminds me too much of this asshole right here. Can’t even think about it.”

Madonna. Demi Moore. Sharon Stone. Liv Tyler was a unanimous smash. An hour went by throwing out names and shouting out whether or not they were fuckable before Alex’s bisexual ass snuck in Brad Pitt.

“Bleh, pass. That's a dick.”

“Smash.” Steve's eyes go wide. Did he just…

“Stevie boy, did you just smash Brad Pitt?” Alex is literally on the edge of her seat at this point. Robin's jaw is just about on the floor. He's waving her off “That…that's not.. I mean. If I were I guess…he’s a good looking guy, s’all I’m saying.”

“You would like the golden boy type shit. I'm more of a ruggedly handsome older man kinda bisexual. I bet you'd smash Patrick Swayze too, handsome. UNLESS…are we talking Interview with a Vampire long hair type Pitt because…”

“This is too much for me!” Robin is shouting as she starts pacing.

“Robbie, I’d expect a little more tolerance from you. I’m disappointed.” Steve pokes fun. “Anyway, you do have the late shift today, so I’ll save you from thinking about me boning Brad Pitt and get out of here.”

“Ew. Steve. No. You and Pitt? You’re definitely bottom. He’s batter dipping the corn dog, not you.”

Raising his middle finger in the air, he gestures behind him to the girls as he walks out the door.

After grabbing a coffee, Steve swings into the record store to browse for some new vinyls. The guy at the front desk is starting to get to know Steve, and he likes that the guy is comfortable enough to make recommendations or pulls a vinyl or two to save for next time Steve comes in. It makes him feel memorable. He’s little more than guy at the record store to Steve, but yet guy at the record store cared enough to think about him and what he might like even when he’s not here.

It’s stuff like this, that he hasn’t really experienced until he moved here to the city, that makes Steve feel less than insignificant. Who would have thought that coming to a city filled to the brim with more people than he knows what to do with would make him feel more seen than a small town where everyone knows your name ever did.

He grabs his bag, filled with three new recommendations from guy at the record store, and he’s heading for the door before the cashier yells out “Oh damn, bro. I almost forgot. Someone left this for you. It’s already paid for, so don’t worry about it, but she said you gotta hear this one.” Steve reaches out to grab the bright red sleeve and turns it over twice before slipping it into his bag. “Yeah thanks dude. See ya around.”

He lies to himself when he thinks that the brisk pace he is walking on his way home is because the nights are turning colder in the city and he wants to get home. He lies to himself a second time when he says he wants to keep moving so he takes the stairs two at a time instead of waiting on the elevator. He lies to himself for a third time, pretending that he’s not really in a rush even though he doesn’t take off his shoes and jacket before he makes a beeline right for his record player all while unwrapping that vinyl he knows that you left for him.

The whirring of the player and the zap of the scratching needle connecting with the plastic make his brain start to buzz and he’s done lying to himself when he thinks that he was so fucking stupid when he shouted at you - drunk out of his mind or not, he has been expecting you to never speak to him again, so…you leaving this for him might just mean…

In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey

Butane in my veins and I'm out to cut the junkie

With the plastic eyeballs, spray-paint the vegetables

Dog food stalls with the beefcake pantyhose

What the fuck did she leave me? He thinks, as he lets the record spin and listens, patiently. Waiting for the hook. Waiting for the bass drop. Waiting for those deep drum rhythms he likes so much. Waiting for the lyrics that are supposed to hit home.

Oh.

Soy un perdedor

I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?

(Double-barrel buckshot)

“Maybe I should just move home and take a stupid job with my dad like he’s been telling me to do since junior year of high school.”

Murray hears the boy complaining as he walks through the door with three giant boxes stacked on top of one another. “Casanova. Hey!” Setting them down he snaps both his fingers right in Steve’s face “We’ve been over this… focus on my dick shop, not your dads. I got new goods, get your sweet ass over here.”

He waves Steve and Robin over to the front window, and they dutifully follow. Ripping open the boxes with a rusty pocket knife he pulls from his tube sock, Murray rambles about the boxes filled with a new Latex fashion line he was checking out at the expo. He shoos Steve off to grab the mannequins from the back storage room so they can set up the window display. “Make sure to grab the dudes with the biggest packages back there, Stevie-boy!” before looking at Robin curiously, asking her to spill the details and explain the pivot back into full on self-loathing Steve took.

“Ah, the lady friend? She gave him that? Sassy. I think I like her. If he doesn't want her…” wiggling his eyebrows, Murray is quickly cut off as Steve re-enters the floor.

“Doesn’t want who?’ Steve says, male mannequin under each arm.

“Oh, nothing. I gotta go get some lunch. I’ll grab the plastic girls on my way back in and you two can play dress up.”

“Hey Stevie, whaddya think?” Robin’s got one of the black latex outfits held out in front of her as she tries anything but effortlessly shaking her hips to the beat of the song playing overhead on the speakers. The would-be seductive dance is cut off when her face lights up, running off to the break room with the package in hand.

“I don’t like that look Robbie. What are you doing?”

Shaking the beads dangling from the door frame to announce her re-entry, Steve’s eyes glance up before doing a double take. Robin stood there, leaning into the wall looking as casual as she possibly can (which isn’t that casual, honestly), standing in a full head to toe black latex catsuit. If Steve could have, he would have taken a polaroid if not just to gift to Alex as a thank you, or apology. Whatever she needs most from him - he’s not too sure at this point. Robin arches her back like she’s posing for a centerfold and it’s not long before the two of them are deep in a fit of laughter from her antics.

Except something goes wrong. The fit of laughter soon lets up, but Robin still can’t catch her breath. Steve is breathing deep, grinning again and shaking his head at her, and while she’s happy she’s coaxing out a laugh and a smile she hasn’t seen from him in over a week, her chest is getting tighter by the second.

Looking at his friend's pallid face, his eyes dart around thinking while she starts wheezing for air. “Rob…are you...you’re not allergic to latex, are you?”

She shakes her head no adamantly but quickly backtracks, realizing that no, she can’t be sure she’s not allergic to latex. Holding up her hands between the two of them, her wrists are ballooning up around the seam of the catsuit sleeves, body swelling up making the suit stretch over her skin even tighter. She starts to claw at it, trying to get it off, but it’s so slippery and tight, and suctioned to her sweaty skin that it won’t budge and her panicked expression locks on to Steve’s.

“You didn’t know you were allergic to latex? What the fuck Robbie?”

“When was I supposed to find out, huh? Not like I’ve been carrying around condoms since I was 15 like you, you asshole!”

“So what…that’s not… What about a balloon? Haven’t you ever been around a fucking balloon before, Rob?”

“Steve, I'm poor. We didn’t buy balloons for birthday parties. I didn’t get….extra…shit. I…no. I can’t remember …ever having a…. balloon.” She’s sucking in breaths between words as much as she can. “Steve, help. It’s….I can’t…”

Walking down the street, Murray is on his way back from grabbing his sandwich, when he spots the flashing lights on the street ahead. What he doesn’t expect is to see those flashing lights belonging to an ambulance pulled up outside of his store. Dropping his sandwich into the grimey gutter, he’s absolutely dumbfounded at the sight before him - Robin laid out on the stretcher, clearly naked and covered with a white sheet and his new inventory in shreds on the sidewalk after the paramedics had to cut it off of her. “Oh for fucks, sake. I didn’t literally mean you should play dress up, Red.”

It takes the paramedics another 20 minutes to get her settled and breathing from an oxygen tank in the back of the rig and explain the situation to Murray and Steve. Her reaction was bad, so they should expect her to be down and out for at least three days until the swelling goes down and she can recover her breathing enough to function normally. Murray storms off into the store grumbling about Workers Comp paperwork and throwing his hands in the air while Steve stays back, readying himself to climb into the back of the rig and ride with his friend before she stops him.

“Listen, dude. I’m clearly not gonna be home tonight, and you don’t need to worry about me. Don’t you dare think you’re gonna sit and keep watch at my bedside. This is definitely the only time in my life my tits will look this big, so I’m not about to invite you in. Alex gets clear first dibs before the swelling goes down.”

Steve grimaces, scrunching his nose up in disgust “Ew, gross Robbie. Stop talking to me about your tits.”

“Whatever. All I’m saying is, maybe take advantage of the empty house? I know she sent you a message loud and clear with that record but I still don’t buy that she won't give you a shot to explain. Call her. Please?”

All he can do is nod as she pats his hand and smiles. He backs away so they can close up the rig and watches as they pull off, lights flashing with his swollen raspberry of a friend in tow.

Murray ends up closing the shop early that night, saying he’s had it up to here with both of them and he just wants to go see Hop and Joyce for an ice cold drink. Before Steve could even respond, Murray’s finger is in his face “NO. You’re not invited this time, buddy. I don’t wanna see your face until tomorrow. And you have the late shift. I don’t wanna close and I think you two owe me.”

“Owe you?! What the heck, I didn’t do anything, man. Robin, she is the one that -”

“No, you listen here. Your moping and loathing is getting irritating. I like you, unfortunately. I’m not sure why, but I like you Steve, and you’ve been fucking annoying since you let your dad get in your head. And whatever is going on with this lady friend, you better fix it.” He pokes Steve right in the chest - hard.

“Is she a girl, or a woman, Steve?” he says, and Steve remembers their chat about Steve’s choices. Why they never seem to work out and how he keeps going for the wrong kind.

“She’s … she’s a woman. Obviously. She doesn’t want to put up with my bullshit.”

“Fix it, Steve. Thank me later.”

He had two beers before he worked up the nerve to pick up the phone. He probably would have had another, but he thought better of it considering the last time he saw you. More like the last time you saw him because he doesn’t fucking remember a lick of it. An apology probably wouldn’t go over very well if he was shitfaced again all because he needed some liquid courage to get the balls to call you up.

It took three, long, agonizing rings for you to pick up, your voice suddenly some sort of beacon in the night for him. He was silent for a beat too long, and just when you went to hang up muttering “whatever asshole, prank call someone else next time” he finally was able to whisper out your name just loud enough that it traveled through the phone line and made it to your ears.

“You got my record?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“I deserved that… and it’s actually good.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“I know. Can I see you?”

And to his surprise, you agreed. You asked him to meet you outside, so you can walk to the cafe together. Promised in a way that had him believing it would all be fine - that you’ll figure it out from there. So he’s sitting on the bench outside of his building waiting, legs bouncing up and down uncontrollably mind weight down from anticipation, nerves and his least favorite piece of baggage, self-doubt.

“You look like you’re waiting on something, boy. Don't wait too long, or you’ll end up looking like me and still never finding what you’re lookin’ for, ya know?”

Steve chuckles and nods. He thinks he does know. And God, he doesn’t want to spend his life chasing an idea and running away every time he gets close because he’s sure he’s not good enough for it. He doesn’t want to be sitting on a bench when he’s 80 lamenting about how he used to look good, had the good hair before it all fell out and turned gray, would get the girls and throw the parties, could pound back a six pack like it’s no big deal, how he was the former Keg King - King Steve. Like that all means anything at all. None of it did. It was all bullshit.

“I’m Steve” he says, holding his hand out and reaching across the bench. The man reaches out accepting his grasp and introduces himself as Robert.“You live here too?” he nods back at the apartment building.

“Sure do. Me and my little rascal Dart.” and Steve notices the small dog laying quietly at the man’s feet.

“What you said before…I am waiting on something. Someone actually. But…I think I’m mostly waiting on myself.”

“Ah, yes. That’s the age old problem innit? We’re always late to our own party. Been in this city for decades and it’s all the same. Young kids like you are lost until they find what they’re looking for, but some of ‘em, they never find it. No one leads ‘em to it and they forget that it’s even worth lookin’ for along the way.”

Steve nods, a little solemnly, at the wisdom the old man is sharing. Resonating just a bit closer to home than the old man probably knows. But then he sees a flash of you from down the sidewalk, your jacket wrapped tight around your body, a tentative smile on your face when you see Steve waiting for you like he promised.

“Ah,” the man laughs a hearty laugh. “She looks like she’s worth waiting for though, my boy. You should go.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” Steve says with a bright smile, and it’s genuine. Maybe she's worth it? Or Maybe Steve will see the old man again. He's not sure which he meant, actually. Maybe…both.

The walk to the cafe seems to go on for eons. After an interaction teetering on awkward, feet pushing at invisible rocks on the pavement and tentative smiles, you both head in that direction side by side, stealing glances for a block or two before either one breaks the silence.

It seems like both of you have let the dull drone of the city take up enough space in the night and you finally speak up at the same time.

“I am sorry for being such a mess.”

“I'm sorry for being a bitch.”

“No. No.” You cut him off. “Yeah you're right. You were a mess and you were kind of a dick about it. I'm not gonna excuse that. But you were a mess, and Robin and Alex were worried for good reason, obviously. You were a mess because something happened and I can't be mad at that. I can be frustrated with how you handled yourself…how you treated people who were just there to fucking help you, man, but at the end of the day, you were going through some shit and…I held it against you instead of helped. And then I got you that record and…”

“I…yeah I should not have drank my problems like that. I shouldn't have. I was an idiot. I am an idiot. That song is…not that far off. Might be my theme song, actually.” He holds back a small laugh to himself. “I do stupid shit. That's not new. But…I wasn't mad at anyone until -”

“You sure seemed mad, Steve.”

“I was…it's just. I guess I'm realizing now I wasn't actually mad at anyone but myself and my dad until you showed up.”

“Correct. You made that loud and clear.”

“Oh. I -” silence falls over them for a few steps, Steve finally looking over at you in a way that makes you feel like he's looking into you not at you this time. “I think I finally understand. Can…can I try and explain? Once we get there?”

You nod. And you let him.

Like a floodgate, the honesty Steve holds back on a regular basis flows out the minute he starts. Tucked in the back corner of the cafe, a steaming hot chai in front of you, a black coffee with cinnamon and nutmeg there in front of him, he tells you how growing up actually felt for him. Not just the my dad is an asshole version but how it really affected him. He says it out loud and admits the way his dad made him feel. Tells you stories about all the sports and the winning and the popularity that was never what he wanted anyway. Tells you how his dad has spent his whole life grooming him to be a mini-version of Mr Harrington, and that's the absolute last thing in the world he wants to be. He just wants to be Steve - whoever that is.

And he cries. He cries when he tells you about the phone call. You notice it's not at the mean things his dad says to him, the names he's called or the put downs about his life that break him down - it's when he tells you about the disdain in his dads voice when he berates him about being friends with the gays. How he couldn't look at Robin after the way his dad talked and how he felt more shame in that moment than any other. Not ashamed that he’s friends with Robin. Not in a million years, but more from the idea that his dad - no anyone - would be lucky to find a friend half as good as Robin is, so who the fuck cares who she loves, right? Jesus Christ. Shame that someone he loves has to live in a world where people like his dad exist.

You both need a refill before he can get through the hard part, though, the part where he hurt you. Steve motions to your empty cup asking if he can get you more and before you know it, comes back a short time later with two new steaming mugs and plates of assorted pastries and snacks balancing on top. I didn't know what you'd like, so I got it all.

Something tells you that even if you don't actually say it, Steve would know for next time. He'd know that you're a sucker for their blondies and like to snack on their homemade caramel corn because even as he's spilling his guts he's paying attention to you, and from here on out every time you meet Steve Harrington at the cafe, he'd have your drink and a plate with a blondie on it waiting for you every single time.

Then, Steve tells you about that day. About how he remembers chain-smoking inside the house and how he knew Robin would fuck me up for it but I didn’t care. He recalls for you how he sat on the sofa with the whiskey bottle muttering to himself about the things his dad said, trying to figure out why this man thinks he can still push his grown son around. He tells you he remembers leaving to get another 6-pack when he ran out but that was the last of it. He doesn't remember much of anything or how he got to Benny's. Hop had told him, and he makes sure to remind him every time he's seen him since that he was pitiful watching Steve being drug in by the drunkest man on the block. Never thought I'd see the day anyone was more drunk than goddamn Rick, boy. Sure proved me wrong.

And when he gets to the part where his friends show up, when you show up, he looks downright ashamed and worried. With a deep sigh, falling from his lips, he tells you that the next and only other thing he remembers from that night was you walking through the door. With his head lain on the bar, vision completely sideways, what he saw was a fucking angel walking into the bar. Thought he was hallucinating or maybe even finally out of his misery and you were coming to bring him towards the light, until his brain made you right side up and he realized who it was.

He didn’t remember the yelling, but Robin told him later how big of a douchebag he was when all he did was start yelling at you and making one hell of a scene. Hearing Robin tell him about how he shouted and asked in such an accusatory tone What are you doing here? made him wonder if he was no better than his dad in the first place. Sounded an awful lot like him in the moment, at least.

You think he looks like a kicked puppy as he explains the rest. “I - I don't expect you to say anything. Or do anything. I don't expect you to forgive me or…” running his hands through his hair you can tell he's trying to pluck up some semblance of courage.

“The thing is, I was mad when my drunk brain finally registered that you were there, and you were there to help. Because I didn't want that. Help sure…I fucking needed help. You saw me. But you….” His swallow is so loud it's audible.

“I was embarrassed I didn't want you to see me like that. I… “

Reaching across the table you gently touch his forearm and it gives him enough courage to finish what he has to say.

“I didn’t want you to see me like that, because I like you too much…Like, the real kind. And I feel so stupid saying it out loud, because I thought that if I showed you how broken I was, you’d see that I wasn’t worth it. Maybe you don’t think I am in the first place and that’s fine I can be just your friend. S’probably all I deserve, honestly.”

He chances a look at you just then, and when it’s not a scowl or indifference he feels safe rough to continue. “Before I didn’t know why I was being such a jerk and I figured it was just because - I am a Harrington, after all. But, I understand why I did it now. I understand that even though I did it wrong, I was trying to protect you from me, and I was trying to protect myself from… ”

Scooting your chair closer to Steve, you push his wild and windswept hair back so you can see him even when his head is hanging low. His eyes flit up to yours and there’s no pity in your eyes. He was expecting pity at the very least, but it’s not there.

“Steve, who says I need to be protected? Especially from you?”

He doesn’t expect your fingers to find his on the walk away from the cafe. He doesn’t expect your touch to be soft. He doesn’t expect it to stay longer than a second - maybe just the gift of something fleeting. But it is. It does. Your fingers hook into his and they don’t pull away, holding on to him and his limp hand before he can even process what he’s being given. Fingers hooked and coaxing him to just let go and embrace it. Fingers he accepts as he laces his with yours, and they stay that way for the entire walk back to his apartment.

—-

A nod of the head with a huge grin spread across his face, Robert welcomes Steve back to the building, still perched on the same bench he walked away from a few hours ago. Maybe Dart needed to go out again, or maybe Robert never left, but in that moment, Steve thought about everything the old man said to him earlier. He’s done with waiting. Waiting has gotten him nowhere. Hiding his feelings has gotten him nowhere. The only person standing in his way is himself.

Your name falls from his lips softly, but there’s something there that wasn’t there earlier in the shop. It’s more sure of himself, almost confident. The predictable thing to come next was a goodnight kiss on his front stoop, and you’re thinking that maybe after all this time and him finally admitting that he’s into you, you’ll get what you’ve been wanting since that night in the back seat of the cab, or when you felt your tummy flip sitting across from him eating that ice cream. Poised to lift up on your toes to close the distance, instead he surprises you when he tugs your arm and pulls you inside the front door to his building with a grin.

And you got that kiss. Oh God, did you get it.

When the door closed to their apartment, Steve turned around to look at you. There was a heat behind his eyes as he slid your coat off of your shoulders for you, and a yearning hiding there when he looks up at you from below as he crouches down to help you slip off your shoes. Rising back up in front of you he’s close. So close that his lips are just barely apart from yours and the heat of his breath tickles your cheeks. The pair of you are so close that there’s barely any space between your bodies when you suddenly find your back pressed up against the door behind you.

Lips finally touching, slow and just barely you breathe out “Robin…”

“That’s not my name, honey.”

And you laugh. A sweet thing that makes Steve’s insides twist and turn.

“She won’t be home tonight. There was some latex…She’s fine. I’ll explain later.”

The kiss you finally get is sloppy, but in the best way. There’s no time for chaste kisses here, pillowy lips slotted together and moving effortlessly between one another. He adjusts your chin with the tips of his fingers so that he can gently caress the line of your jaw, following it back down and up again as he slides his fingers through the base of your hair. His grip there is tight, but not painful, Possessive but not overwhelming. It’s like he’s got something he wants so desperately and he’s afraid to let it go.

He gently touches your upper lip with the tip of his tongue, coaxing you open further for him, letting his tongue follow the outlines of your teeth before letting his dance together with yours. He lets out a small sigh as you continue to nip at each other's lips and play with how you both respond to one another's kiss. The sigh makes your mouth crack open in a smile, cheeks drawing up with the grin and encouraging his kisses to explore elsewhere. Small pecks start on the corner of your mouth and then your cheeks, right on the apple of them as their pulled taught by your smile.

Moving down towards your jaw, your neck, they get more and more salacious the lower they get. Red and pricking, a bruise is blooming at the spot on your neck just under your ear where he settles in to suck and kiss at your skin while the whimper that falls from your lips as he does it and your fingertips running through his hair and scratching at his scalp keep him grounded - barely capable of holding it together as is.

When you ask him what he wants, the answer he gives you is not one you expected. Sure you expected him to want to dote on you - after all, he’s attentive like that on any given day, so Steve being a giver in the sheets was almost…a given? But when his gasping breaths punctuate each word that comes out of his mouth Can you … I want you to ride my face? was a pleasant surprise.

Now surprising him, you not only agreed, but were confident about it. “Always wanted this. No…no one would let me.” He tells you as he breathes into you, chest heaving, foreheads touching. He barely notices as you pull the top of your dress down and work it over your shoulders, then the swell of your breasts. He only registers your exposed skin as you guide his hands down to your waist so he can hold you steady as you step out of it.

Coaxing him backwards towards the sofa, you tap his shoulder and tell him to sit down on the floor, back against the furniture, as you make a show of removing your bra. He does as you ask, unable to tear his eyes away from your supple skin and perfectly peaked nipples, making a mental note that later he absolutely has to get his mouth on them. As you shimmy down your underwear in front of him, you pause to add a kiss to the top of his head before dropping the garment directly in his lap.

He bunches them up in his hand, sliding them into his front pocket for later as you settle over him, “Y’know…they call this Queening?” perched there on your knees, you’re fully undressed and slotted above his face so casually.

“Mmmm. Makes sense.” He says, against the seam of your pussy and your thighs, making you vibrate with his words and his gentle hum.

“R’mind me to tell you why one day.”

“Mmmmhmm. Sure thing.” In a haze, he reaches around you, fingers digging into your supple ass and pulling you closer. Forward and over, just where he wants you. The perfect position where he can use both his mouth and his nose - just like Robin told him he should. Head moving subtly left to right, he tests it out, tip of his nose gently nudging your clit left to right and right to left and his warm breath teasing your wet, glistening folds. You let out a gasp followed by a small breathy little uhh, that has his ears ringing and he’s happy. Pleased with his position, he slips his tongue out and traces you with it, before returning with a big, firm lick - tongue flattened and wide making sure you touch all of you in one pass. Those big hands wrap further around you, now snaking over the tops of your thighs and this time tugging you down. Down down down and there’s nowhere else to go.

Now you’ve had some fine oral sex before. It’s a non-negotiable for you when it comes to relationships: If a man is worried about tasting your clit, you don’t want him. You’re worth more than that. You’ve even done this a time or two, but Steve nestled between your thighs, under you like this fully clothed and pulling you into his face further despite there not being anywhere else to go is otherworldly.

Other times you’ve found yourself in this position were tactical. A position change, a new angle, just for fun, a lazy guy. But being perched on top of Steve Harrington’s face is making you feel like a true goddess. You were about to give him a history lesson and tell him why this is called Queening and instead he’s proving it to you. Making you feel just like one.

Between smooth glides of his tongue, Steve sucks at your lips, your clit, the seam of your thigh. Once you’ve settled and allow yourself to fully relax over top of him, he releases his bruising grip - perfect tiny crescents left behind in their wake - and uses those free hands wherever he can reach. Sliding up your spine, ghosting over the peach of your ass, along the curve of your backside and between them, too.

You’re not quiet anymore. You couldn’t be if you tried, and if you weren’t muffling the sounds coming from him with your thighs, you’re pretty sure the symphony of both of your moans would be enough to tip you over the edge. Since his are busy elsewhere, your hands find their way to your tits, rolling your nipples between your fingers and throwing your head back in pleasure as you start to absentmindedly grind on his face.

He lets you bask in your pleasure for a while before tugging you out of your daze, hands covering the small of your back, pulling and angling you forward so that your hands fall to the arm of the sofa behind him. Now, leaning over him, soft and subtle grinding returning like muscle memory, he takes the opportunity to slide his fingers in from behind, just alongside his mouth. Thick digits slipping inside, scissoring alongside the wet muscle of his tongue, nose nudging your clit between deep rolls of your hips against him, he notices the twitching of your velvety walls first, followed by the shaking of your thighs.

Freeing his hands, he finds your legs again, if only to hold you down to ride out your climax, combating how badly your sensitive body is trying to pull away, just slightly. The work he’s putting in on your pussy is paying off tenfold when you tremble and shake above him. Unable to move from the vice grip he has on your legs, you have no choice but to cry out and let him lap at you, drink you up until you're overstimulated and begging him to stop.

Limp and satiated, you easily fall into his arms as he moves up between you and the couch, pulling you into his lap. Your head lolls forward has he grabs your cheeks to look at you “Y’feel good baby? Y’feel like a Queen?”

You nod, dazed but eager and happy as he lifts you and stands. Legs wrapping around his hips while he peppers you with kisses that taste like your own pleasure, he carries you down the hallway to his room.

Kicking open the door, he stalks over to his bed and tosses you onto it without a second thought. Looking up at him with big doe eyes, he knows he’s done for. He can’t move fast enough as he loosened his belt and tugs down his pants. Crawling over you on his bed, he nudges that nose against yours again to get your attention. “You wanna? We don’t have to y’know?”

“Steve Harrington, I want to so bad, I’m gonna make you forget your name.”

TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnrichardpapen @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamngoldrush @middle-of-the-sky @thebrazilianatheist @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss @scoopshxrrington @superblysubpar

#joe keery #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #robin buckley #sexshop!steve #steve harrington x you #steve and robin fanfic #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley smut #robin buckley fanfic #steve and robin get a job #steve and robin 4l #platonic stobin #stobin fanfic #platonic soulmates stobin #stobin

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norahastuff · 2 years ago

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There’s a lot to like about The Winchesters, but I think one of the reasons it hits so hard for me is that it solves my biggest problem with the finale. Personally, I don’t have a problem with tragic endings. The season 5 finale of Spn has a tragic ending, and I think it’s a wonderful feat of storytelling. Aside from the fact that 15x20 tried to pretend it wasn’t tragic and tried to make it seem like Sam and Dean standing alone on a bridge in Heaven was a happy ending, what I hated most about the finale was they had to flatten Dean into a two-dimensional caricature of himself to do it. Aside from maybe the revelation that Dean stood outside Sam’s apartment at Stanford for hours trying to psych himself up to go in because he was nervous Sam would turn him away, there was no moment in the episode that Dean felt like the complex, nuanced character we had come to know and love over the past 15 seasons. He had no desires or characterisation beyond pie, car and Sammy. There was no sign of all the growth we’ve seen from him, no hint of his own needs, wants or sense of self. I mean, he wasn’t even allowed to interact with his own heaven before Sam showed up. Even after his death, he was never allowed to have anything that was just his.

Look, I’ve said all this a hundred times before – if you look at my 15x20 tag, it’s basically just this sentiment repeated over and over again – so why am I saying it again now? Well, because The Winchesters is fixing that. The mission Dean is on is all his. It’s not about Sam, or pie or whatever surface level bullshit that finale tried to boil Dean down to. He’s going back to the past, he’s meddling in something insane because he sees value in it, and in the process going on a journey to understand himself better. His narration makes it pretty clear that through this quest he’s learning to contextualise his own life and feelings better. The past presents the future, after all (full disclosure, that’s an Ugly Betty episode title that I just really loved and use far too often in casual conversation), and one of the biggest hang ups in Dean’s life was that he was given this mythologised version of events and expected to believe them. Mary was this perfect saintly mother who sat at home baking cookies all day before she was brutally, and through no fault of her own, ripped away from them. John was the perfect mild-mannered husband and father who only slid into anger and obsession after he lost his perfect wife.

Eventually Dean realises that none of that is true. Mary couldn’t cook. She was a hunter. She was involved in the circumstances that brought about her own death. She was a complicated person, and in the end he got the chance to see that knowing the real her, flaws and all, was infinitely superior to believing the white-washed fairytale about the perfect martyr that John created after she died. There’s also the fact that John was never the perfect husband or father, even before Mary’s death. We get maybe one reference to that in Spn, how in Dean’s heaven in season 5 he remembers John and Mary fighting and John moving out for a few days, but not much else. The focus is very much on how John turned into a neglectful parent and an angry man after Mary’s death. But The Winchesters is working hard to dispel that lie. John always had this anger in him. Mary even calls him out multiple times on how he’s using her and their relationship as an excuse to avoid his issues. She straight up uses those words. There are also references to how raising your kids to be soldiers and being their drill sergeant rather than their parent is one of the worst things a parent can do to their child.

Anyway, as interesting as it is to see all these things addressed in the Spn universe, what’s so damn satisfying is seeing Dean realise it. Dean’s on a mission to learn more about his past. To understand that our parents and where we come from shapes and moulds the people we become, but it doesn’t have to define us forever if we don’t let it. By accepting his past and finding out the truth about who his parents truly were, he can accept himself and move forward, free of whatever baggage that had been dragging him down for so much of his life.

And the greatest part about all of this, is that Dean’s the one driving this story. It’s not God, or his father or even his duty to take care of Sam which dictated so much of his life and his choices before. This is about Dean’s choices and who he is as a person and what he wants. It’s funny because as little as we saw John Winchester in season 1 of Spn, he was very much the spectre hanging over the story, and the search to find him is what drove much of the plot throughout the season. Much of what his sons were doing was in reaction to him. And now in The Winchesters, Dean himself is the spectre that’s been hanging over the season. He’s the one making the big moves and steering the action. He’s the one everyone, friend and foe alike, is looking for. He’s the one who gave John the note and put this whole thing into motion. After the ending of Spn took away so much of his agency and everything that makes Dean Dean, he’s finally getting it back and then some.

I’m excited to see how the season’s going to end, but I’ll forever be happy that this show gave us Dean being his own person again. He’s the one picking the music this time.

#the winchesters #spnwin #my spn thoughts

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doctorprofessorsong · 1 year ago

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Destiel Fic Recs

Sorry it's been a moment. I was finishing up my Moulin Rouge vibes monsterfucking Taylor Swift inspired extravaganza fic featuring blood freak Sammy, a touch of horror and a huge cast of characters for @dcbtv . (Read it here!)

But fear not! I have a fresh list of fics recs just for you. <3

The Trouble with Blue Eyes by FriendofCarlotta @friendofcarlotta (Explicit, 14k)

A film noir pulp fiction detective story so atmospheric you will feel like you are seconds from a mysterious dame busting into your office.

Dean and Cas are detectives in the same town. When they happen to meet on competing cases, things heat up. They become friends with benefits, but over the years they both catch feelings and neither one of them knows how to handle it. Will they be able to solve the Case of We Suck at Communication? More importantly, how do I marry this version of Charlie?

Frisky Business by imogenbynight @imogenbynight (Explicit, 13k)

A fun little Cas fic slash smutty one shot, this one is just immensely readable. When Dean and Cas find themselves hunting an apparently horny wraith, things get a bit complicated. Come for the fun wraith lore, stay for the smut!! It's a fun read with flustered Dean and soft dom Cas and a really fun case. What else could you want?

Of Lords and Letters by MalMuses @malmuses (Explicit, 14k)

Epistolary romance and Regency era Destiel? Catnip for me personally.

When Dean receives notice of his father’s death and his inheritance of the family's estate, he finds himself in a dilemma. He doesn’t want to abandon his regiment in the war, but someone needs to look after Winchester Hall. Luckily, a friend of Sam's, Castiel, is looking for employment and would be more than happy to serve as steward.

But as their correspondence becomes increasingly intimate, Dean finds himself fighting not only Napoleon, but also his feelings. What will he find when he returns home?

creation myth by howldean @howldean (Teen, 5k)

This is a shorter fic for me to rec, but it manages to pack so much into it. The fic is an absolutely stunning examination of Cas and his relationship with his vessel when he's forced to leave it behind. It has all these beautiful gender feels. I am always a sucker for trueform Cas as well.

But most of all, it's just deeply poetic. There are so many staggeringly beautiful lines as Cas grapples with who he is and where he fits. It's just absolutely gorgeous.

Devotion by FriendofCarlotta @friendofcarlotta (Explicit, 29k)

A Terminator AU.

That's enough to make the list already, but also a full on delight of a fic. The angels, desperate to stop Dean Winchester, send one of their own back in time to kill him before he can become a threat.

But Dean sends his own rebellious angel back. Even though his grace is faltering, Cas is determined to keep Dean safe, but can he keep his heart safe?

doors unlocked and open by sidewinder @hawkland (Teen, 12k)

This one’s absolutely packed with amazing concepts. A post-Winchesters Destiel fix-it, Jack finds himself at a loss when he realizes that despite his best efforts, Dean can't seem to find peace in Heaven. He says he's looking for his family, but it's becoming increasingly clear he's specifically looking for one family member: Cas.

But Cas hasn't seen Dean since his big confession and he's not sure what reuniting will bring. Can Cas find the key to Dean’s peace?

Paper Moon by robotsnchicks @robotsnchicks (Explicit, 43k)

Life doesn't get any better than this. Dean's married to the love of his life and they've just put an offer down on their dream home. Everything is perfect.

A little too perfect as it turns out when Dean wakes up to discover the last 4 years of his life were actually a simulation over the course of a week. He's devastated, most of all because he lost Cas. He can’t believe his husband isn't real. Refuses to believe it. He has to be out there somewhere and Dean is going to find him.

This concept could be extremely angsty, and make no mistake it does have some, but its surprisingly soft. A chance to find each other again, to start back at the beginning for Dean, to fall in love.

Check out my other rec lists at @riversrecs

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic rec #deancas fic rec

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 1 year ago

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bound for n.y.c - g. van fleet

a/n: hi everybody! i’m back with a cool 3.6k fic about the one, the only, greta van fleet! i am seeing them at msg next week and am so excited that i just wanted to write a quick fic. please note that there’s no set ship and that it’s sort of implied that reader is in love with all members of the band and all the band members are into reader and NOT EACHOTHER. except maybe sammy and danny. let me know if y’all want anymore of these types of fic, idk maybe it’ll flop. also this is kind of fast paced and i am very sorry for that warnings: kissing, physical touch, mentions of anxiety and stress, complicated love triangles, food mentions, reader has a stepdad and a good relationship with their mom, reader being from ny, i think reader is fully gender neutral with maybe a few feminine traits but no real descriptors. also reader has tattoos and mentions of a dog that is no longer with us! no use of y/n, one mention of drugs, a bunch of references to sex, and cursing :0 word count: 3.6k summary: as tour manager, it's your job to get the boys to new york city, your home town. just don't fall in love with them, or anything. now playing: runway blues – greta van fleet

Being tour manager for America’s favorite Led Zeplin cover band, or at least, that’s what your judgmental bitch of a landlord called them once, was surprisingly difficult.

You were constantly running around after the four of them, feeling often more like a nanny than a tour manager. Especially at first. You had started meeting with them a few weeks before their World Starcatcher tour had begun, where you wore these professional, stuffy outfits. They had been referred to you by their makeup artist, who you had known from when you were an assistant to the tour manager of Phoebe Bridgers’ 2022 reunion tour.

You had been working for a producer when you got the call. Truthfully, you missed touring. It was a great way to see different parts of the country and the world, and you thrived in the chaotic environment. And you had heard of Greta Van Fleet, mostly from your grandfather, who was a huge classic rock fan, and always exploring new music via his iPad.

But you started out rather cooperating with them, wearing these stuffy outfits—Mostly long button ups and pencil skirts, while the boys showed up in comfortable casual clothes, always joking about you having to loosen up a bit.

And one notoriously hot day in early July, you showed up in shorts and a muscle tee to meet with them to go over the final dates of the tour before you all gave your go ahead to the social media manager.

You didn’t do much talking about the tour that meeting, opting instead to answer questions about your tattoos, your taste in music, your life to this point. And in exchange, they gave you pieces of themselves.

“I’m from New York,” You had answered over some late afternoon drinks. “I haven’t been home since Christmas, So I’m excited to see my family when we’re there.”

Josh’s fingers traced your upper arm, over a tattoo of your long-gone dog. “Will we get to meet this little guy?” He asks.

You only chuckled, “No, this one died while I was in college. Best dog I ever had.” You said solemnly.

And that was it. One comment about your dog and the boys were hooked on you forever. And when the tour started, you only grew closer— Sharing with them parts of your childhood, Jake teaching you the very basics of guitar, Josh taking shots with you before shows, Danny bringing you coffee to cope with those shots the next morning, and Sam holding your hand when he’s anxious, or when you’re anxious—or both.

So, by the time you make it to the boys’ first show at the Garden, you’ve developed a routine.

The bus leaves by seven a.m. from the hotel in D.C. to get to New York by nine, nine-thirty-ish. You’re craving a sausage, egg, and cheese on a bagel from your favorite deli near where your mom lives, about an hour outside of the city.

So, you wake Jake up first, as he takes the longest to really wake up, and you’re sure you’ll have to shake him awake at least twice before he really gets up for the day. Then, you go to make sure Josh is up, and hear his shower going by the time you get to it. Good.

Then, you head to Sam, who is snoring away with Rosie. You almost don’t have the heart to wake him up. Almost. But Rosie senses your presence and stands up in bed, starting to lick his face. He groans, mumbling a soft, “I’m up, Rose, I know.” You feel good when you head over to Danny.

But thankfully, he’s already up. He’s in bed, writing in his notebook when you get there, sipping his coffee and all packed up for the road. His hair is tied up in a bun, and you’re entirely grateful that he’s so good at this whole thing.

Usually, you don’t need to wake each of them up, but every few shows, the five of you, as well as other crew members, indulge in the after party. And last night was your turn to be the D.R.O. Designated responsible one.

Eventually, you get all four of them downstairs and on the bus, no real difficulties. You all climb onto the bus and begin the drive to your home state. And you can hardly take the anticipation. Seeing your family again, visiting your favorite spots, and getting a homecooked meal was keeping you going. You had moved to California for school, before traveling on a few tours, and then settling for about a year in Nashville. But you ached for New York.

While your boys busied themselves with talk, games, and music, you stared out the window, biting your thumb and ignoring the reruns of Daredevil that played on your laptop in front of you. And apparently, you were bouncing your leg intensely, because the only thing that snapped you out of your thoughts was Rosie’s head on your thigh to relax you.

You scratched her head, sighing as you closed your computer, before glancing up to the boys, who had gone suspiciously quiet.

“What?” you asked, giving them a concerned look.

“You know we’ll make it to New York, right?” Sam asked, “You’ll be there soon.” He said, holding your hand, just like he always did when you were anxious.

“I know, I’m just—I miss home. And I love touring, and usually I’m never like this, but when I realized I’d be seeing my mom after months, I just... It made me start focusing a lot more on the fact that I miss it.”

You knew they’d get it. Michigan had been their home for years, and although they loved Nashville just like you did, you knew they left a part of themselves in Frankenmuth, just as you had in New York.

Danny tossed you a blanket, “Get some sleep, Sugar. You’ll need it.” he said softly. You nodded, too anxious and tired to argue any further than that. You cuddled up to Sam, Rosie finding her way in between your legs to further comfort you.

As you drifted off, you thought about your relationship with them. Things like Sam’s holding your hand and cuddling, Danny’s very often kisses to your forehead, Jake’s gentle hugs from behind, and Josh’s well—Josh’s everything, he’s a very affectionate young man—had been, for the most part, strictly platonic. You had thought about it. Kissing one of them, asking to break the professional lines of your relationship, however blurred those had become.

But it was more than that. Over the past few months of knowing them, it had developed from you getting them from place to place, into a softer, more tender relationship. The relationship you had formed with them was something you had been desperately lacking and needing. You had only realized that you missed it when you got it from them.

You were all real true soulmates.

You woke up to the sound of a loud series of honks and yelling from outside the bus. You peeked out of the window to see people screaming at each other, thousands of people making their way to work, and tall skyscrapers overhead.

“Jesus Christ, it smells like someone died!” Jake complained, as the rest of the boys agreed on the smell being horrid. It made you grin. You were home.

You stretched and pulled out your phone, checking the itinerary for the day that you had written out in your note’s app the night before. And you were right on schedule, since you accounted for traffic getting here. It was around noon, so you decided to head over to the hotel to get settled in before the show.

Except when you got there, the lady at the front desk informed you there were no rooms booked under the name you had given them. Which was insane, because you booked a room months ago knowing how expensive and unpredictable the city was.

So here you were, a show that night, with no hotel room, and a group of hungry twenty-something year olds. You were going to scream. And they could see it on you, your muscles tense, as you struggled to not start shaking.

Josh rested a hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb gently against it as he wrapped his other arm around your shoulders. “Deep breathes, Baby. You made that reservation; these guys are just a bunch of fucking fucks.” And it made you laugh, enough to relax you. You took another minute to think, before turning back to the rest of the guys.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We must be at the Garden for soundcheck and costumes, hair, and makeup by five thirty. We’ll go there now, drop off our bags and we can go grab pizza and garlic knots at this spot I know, good and are very cool with service dogs.” You said, unable to think of a scenario where you leave Rosie anywhere except with Sam. “While we’re there, I’ll make a call, since I think I know where we can stay if you guys don’t mind a bit of a drive after the show.” No one objected, they simply got back on the bus as instructed, and headed to enact that plan.

After dropping off your things and making it to the pizza place, you step outside for that call, telling Jake to just order you a soda. The phone rings. Once. Twice. And on the third call, your mom answers, excitedly saying your name.

“Where are you guys? Did you make it to the hotel okay?” she asks, and your face melts at the softness.

“Hey, Mom, we’re in the city, getting some lunch. Listen, the hotel messed up our reservation, and now we’re looking for a new place to stay... I know it’s last minute, but—” And before you can ask it, she cuts you off.

“Well, you five can stay here! We have the guest room, your room and your brother’s room.” She decides. “I’ll cook, do they like sausage and peppers?”

“Mom, you don’t have to, it’s gonna be late when we get in.”

“And you still need to eat. I’ll see you tonight, okay? I love you baby, break a leg tonight.” She advises, even though you aren’t the one preforming.

“Alright, I love you, mom.” You hang up and head back inside, settling into your seat next to Josh, just as the waitress comes back to take your order. “We’ll have a large cheese pizza with half mushrooms, please. And a dozen and a half garlic knots.” You say coolly, not giving the boys a chance at all. You love this restaurant. It’s best you order anyways.

They all stare at you for a few seconds before you smile. “You all get to meet my mom tonight.”

“Don’t you think we should have a couple of dates before we meet your mom?” Danny asks, and it makes you giggle.

“What do you think this is?” You tease.

Lunch goes really well, and after a bit of tourism and some drinks around the city, you make it to Madison Square Garden to get them ready for the show. For a brief few hours, you have a break. Usually, you spend it catching up on some work, having some quiet time, or anything of the sort. But this is their debut at the Madison Square Garden, in your hometown. You feel an obligation to watch the show.

Before the show begins, as Josh and Jake are getting their makeup done, you relax with Sam and Danny on a couch somewhere backstage. When Jake is done, he steals your phone off the table, and holds it up to take a photo of the three of you. Sam and Danny lean in and each kiss one of your cheeks, and it makes you roll your eyes for a second before you smile at the camera, letting them be all lovely dovey and affectionate, like a bunch of freaks. Your freaks.

When the show starts, you watch from the sidelines, cheering for them and generally enjoying the show, because you just know how important this is for them. And you eat it right up, watching your boys perform at a dream venue for so many artists.

Before they start Highway Tune, Josh starts speaking to the crowd. “This is a very special show for us. Our debut at The Garden. The Garden, how about that?” He hums. “And we’re also playing in our tour manager’s hometown... So, we have some special surprises for you in their honor.” The crowd goes wild, and your face flushes, giggling at the idea of them performing a special show just for you.

The show goes by quicker than you would like it to, because you’re enjoying it too much. And you’re really understanding suddenly why so many people are down bad for them online. They look really fucking good. When they get off stage, you just want to cling onto them or make out with them or worse, and then they go back on for the encore and it leaves you longing, wanting for more.

What the fuck is happening to you?

You get caught up in this feeling to the point where the next hour or two—Waiting for the crowds to clear out, for them to get undressed, for the bus to get there—fly by, and before you know it, you’re in the bus again, heading to your moms. Josh lays his head on your lap, and Sam has found himself cuddled up against you. Danny is leaning against Jake across from you, and Jake is just staring at you. He has a familiar look in his eyes, and you just stare back.

When you make it to your home, while all the houses are dark and quiet, the kitchen and living room light is on when you make it to your home. The bus driver has family in the area, so he’ll stay with them for the night, and pick you up early on Thursday Morning, giving you all a break from the crazy travel days.

Your mom is in the kitchen when you come in, having late night coffee and tea with your stepdad. She hears you come in and gets excited, greeting you all at the door. She pulls you in for a hug and a kiss, holding onto you for a little while, just excited to see you. When she pulls away, she grins at the boys.

“And who are these lovely young men?” she asks, teasingly.

In a deadpan voice, you respond, “The cokehead rockstars I’ve been traveling with. I’m their groupie.” You say, and she scoffs at your sarcasm.

Josh smiles, “That’s us, Baby!” He opens his arms to your mom, and she gladly hugs him as a greeting, despite this being their first meeting. And there it is again, that aching feeling you had, when you watched them perform tonight, the same feeling that followed you home. After hugs and introductions, you’re all at the dinner table, gobbling down the dinner your mom made for you. You can almost cry, enjoying the taste of her cooking after months without it.

And the boys enjoy it too, loving a filling meal after a busy show. When you have all finished eating, you make your way up to your respective rooms. You stick Danny and Sam in the guest room, Jake sleeps in your brother’s room, and Josh in your bed, with you. You could almost die.

You take out your earrings and then you lay down. Your arms are exposed, showing off the tattoos you have once more. Josh sleeps in his boxers and a tee shirt, even though your room is chilly. He lays next to you and begins tracing his fingers over your tattoos.

“What’s this one?” he asks, tracing over a ghost that’s on your forearm, right above your elbow.

“Got it during the final show of Phoebe’s tour. She has a similar one somewhere, and I guess it was my way of commemorating the tour.” You explain. He hums, and moves to a different one, asking you the origin of that one. This goes on for a while, before you kiss his palm and tell him to get some sleep.

He falls asleep quickly, and you just stare at him through the darkness. ‘Are you dreaming of me?’ You want to ask, a hand reaching out to run your hands through those vicious curls. Before you know what, you’re doing, you cuddle up to him, laying your head on his chest. When you feel his arms wrapped around you, you begin to drift off, confident that you did not overstep any boundaries.

When the morning strikes, you get up and realize Josh is still asleep. You wiggle out of his arms and leave the room. You must be lost in thought because you bump flat into someone without even noticing. It’s Danny. His hair is wrapped up in a towel, and he only wears a towel around his waist.

He reminds you of that one video of Slash from the golden age of Guns N Roses, and it stirs something deep inside of you.

But he just chuckles and kisses your forehead gently. “Hey, sweets.” he says softly, in that raspy morning voice.

“Good morning.” You respond. “Sorry for interrupting.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything; you don’t have to apologize.” He advises. “See you downstairs.” You take a cold shower just to get out of your own head before heading downstairs, where you meet your mom, Jake, Sam, and Danny laughing and eating French toast, as your stepdad cooks in the kitchen.

You love his French toast, but a pang of disappointment hits you as you think about your sausage, egg and cheese on a bagel, with hashbrowns. You quickly eat to dissipate any of those needs. But you’ve been talking about that sandwich for months, so it haunts you.

The rest of the day, you spend pretty much doing nothing. You nap, lounge, and catch up with your mom. It’s the perfect day. Just you, your mom, and your boys. And of course, Rosie. Your mom makes pulled pork sliders for lunch, and you order Chinese food for dinner. Real, good Long Island Chinese food.

And really, the day is over before you really want It to be. Sam asks you to join him on walking Rosie. You happily oblige, planning on taking him to get ice cream along the way. He has his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you keep your head leant against his shoulder. Rosie trots in front of you happily.

“I could get used to this.” He says suddenly.

“Huh?” It catches you off guard. What does that mean?

“This. The quiet life. Walking my dog in the suburbs...” He says shyly. You get the sense there’s something on the tip of his tongue and you long for him to say it. “I love touring, but these domestic moments... You can’t beat ‘em.” He decides.

You want to kiss him so badly.

Instead, you just hum, and snuggle closer to him, wondering what the hell you’re doing. And that’s a super valid question.

The night goes the same as the last, except you kiss your mom and stepdad goodnight, not wanting them to have to get up in the morning to say goodbye. You suspect your mom will anyways. And she does. As the boys file out of the house, she’s handing them homecooked meals for the road, and you give her one more hug and kiss goodbye, before heading to the bus yourself. The others are on the bus, but Jake stands there, his hands behind his back. You narrow your eyes to him suspiciously.

“You’re an amazing tour manager, you know that?” He says gently.

“Yes, I do. What are you scheming at?” You ask, not totally trusting him.

He just grins as he reveals a brown bag he’s holding, handing it to you. Your confusion only grows as you take the bag and open it only to smell the best thing you have had in months.

A sausage, egg, and cheese on a bagel. With hashbrowns. From your favorite deli.

You almost scream.

“What?!” You gasp, “How did you—”

“I borrowed your mom’s car this morning and got it for you.”

“You didn’t have to do that...”

“Yeah, I did. I meant what I said. You hold us together, and we couldn’t be more grateful. Plus, you’ve been talking about this sandwich for months and—” You don’t let him finish. You kiss him. It’s full of all this pent-up passion you’ve held in, and Jake just wraps his arms around you, deepening the kiss. He wanted this just as much as you did, you realized. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you both lean into the kiss, fully enjoying the moment. Then, he pulls away, saying your name quietly.

You don’t know what to say. Then, the bus honks twice, scaring the shit out of you.

“C’mon you two! We got things to do, you sorry shits!” Josh yells. You can only laugh before you both climb onto the bus. Now, a new lust has overcome you. The lust for the sandwich you hold in your hands.

The lust for the four boys that surround you doesn’t dissipate either.

But as you head for Boston, your boys in tow, your shift as Greta Van Fleet’s tour manager begins once more, and you resume your position easily.

Until Sam kisses your neck. Then you melt again.

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willbbg · 21 days ago

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I need someone to wirte this fic

when sam goes to hell in season 5 instead of dean taking sam’s word literally he drifts slowly to California, driving fast and angry until he stops at the beach and sees a little girl with practically nothing on her, only her long brunette hair blowing with the wind and her fur coat and her mini black skirt with her no straps shirt and her smudged makeup while smoking a cigarette (the story is like detachment 2011) while she make advances on him batting her big doe eyes at him and her pouty lips, he(still) ignores and she curses at him”who even want your limpy d!ck anyway” (i thought this is funny 😭)

With sammy gone he just wants someone to look after.. thier relationship will be complex and complicated and when they finally have s*x i think he will cry and hold her tight and i think he is oh so overprotective and love to hold her and manhandles her(i am projecting sue me)and she is malnourished and tiny due to her homelessness, he loves to point that out and loves to take care of her(SOFT DEAN I LOVE YOU)+he loves to stroke her face and looks longingly at her with love and guilt(ugh my heart), i feel like it’s mix between detachment x lolita x buffalo 66 minus the kidnapping, i am thinking at some point he will yell at her and she would react how layla reacted she wouldn’t freak out she would embrace him instead, like the finale scene on the movie

please make it looooongggg and please no first person ew it would be preferable if it’s dean’s pov

Imagine her while dean is getting out of the impala she’s just there applying lipstick and lipgloss unbothered

#Dean winchester #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 writer #writers on tumblr #writers 🙏#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #if i knew how to fucking write I would’ve written it :(#I am so demanding hahaha #Soo cringyyyyy i love it #Her vibe is so kate mess lol

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smallbentosakura · 2 months ago

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Angel and Sylus Relationship

"It was as if we were old friends... something between us finally clicked. Maybe....just maybe...did I finally fall for him?" - Angel

The relationship between Angel and Sylus is complicated. Both of them bump head a lot, but it's always Sylus who manages to win Angel over with small gifts and expensive clothing.

Maybe expensive dinner or going to the beach, he'll rent out. He'll do it because he doesn't like seeing his kitten mad at him.

Angel falls for it every time but won't admit that she enjoys being pampered. She would even buy him cologne, hinting that she likes it if he wears it around her.

They fight.

They go on missions

They fight again

They make up

Have sex

Goes on more missions (dangerous ones)

Angel goes back to Linkton for work purposes.

Sylus stalks her

Sylus will wear it just because she brought it and will return the favor by corning her into a corner and tease her. Mostly kisses or hugging her tightly while saying sweet things to her. *teasing 290%)

Angel, may not be the same Angel Sylus knows from the past life, but he does adore her and protects her at all cost. He will send Mephisto to spy on her while she's on her missions fighting wanderers. He will call to check in with her.

Angel will call him during the night if she can't sleep and asks for him to stay on the phone until she falls asleep.

He doesn't hangs up. From time to time, he will comment on her beauty and tell her how much she brings joy in his dangerously life. Angel, at some point, pretend that she's sleep so she can hear his confessions. (though he already confessed before but this time he values her more than anything)

The tables will turn, she's the one finally confessing to a sleeping Sylus how much she wants to be with him. (he's obviously pretending to sleep)

Angel will not confess her feelings to Sylus directly. She keeps to herself and tries to bury those feelings in her heart. Deep down, she wants her but for the sake of her, she supress those feelings.

Throughout the months going back to Linkton to N109 Zone, the relationships between them soften ups.

2 years later, Angel gives birth to Sylu's daughter, Sammie.

Her evol, Healing.

After the birth of their child, Angel finally understood Sylus. She finally accepted him for who he was and valued him.

That is all I got. Have fun with that information.

Even though they had previous lives together in different loops and Sylus knew her so well, she accepted the fact that her life here was worth being with Sylus and hope nothing could take away for that.

"I accepted that I don't have my memories, and those strange dreams remain fuzzy and confusing. He keeps me in the dark....I guess I'm fine with that." - Angel

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #love and deep space mc #lads mc

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i-have-no-idea-for-name · 3 months ago

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Ok, so I really want to make a bestie for Amy and I was thinking about Goldie and Sammy's child but I don't know if that should be a boy or a girl 'couse if that was a girl, Amy could have a bestie that she could treat like a sister and they could be like "GIRL POWER" or if that was a boy, it would be cute if they had Dev/Hazel relationship so that could be friends to lovers and I really like that kind of ship 'couse like I'm doing this to ALL OF MY FANKIDS XDDDD (like with my dhmis babies Starlight & Wybie and June & Eric or my Thundercats Roar fankids that I didn't show you yet)

So what do you suggest me????

(I don't want to make a non-binary character because even though I have known about the existence of such people for about two years, it is still difficult for me to get used to it because 1. my language does not use they/them pronouns for the singular and I speak Polish and in this language, pronouns are used all the time, not only in the third person but also in the first and second person, i.e. women and men talk about themselves in different forms (complicated, it could take a long time to explain) 2. I am on the autism spectrum and one of my symptoms is it's very VERY difficult for me to adapt to changes :< )

#the fairly oddparents #the fairy oddparents a new wish #fop fanchild #fairy odd parents #peri x irep #perirep

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gerardpilled · 1 year ago

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Zine interest survey!

This zine (tentatively titled "just like me, fr") is designed to explore the complicated relationship we hold with the people we admire. It's meant to be a personal exploration on how you find yourself relating to My Chemical Romance + its members while exploring the assumptions that went into perceptions of relatability and accepting them. Submissions can be heavy and serious, or silly and fun!

This would be a project moderated by Sammy (@columbosunday) and myself, Kelly (@gerardpilled)

Submissions will be looked over and assignments will be determined based on interest and availability

If you choose to tackle a topic relating to a demographic, it is highly preferred and recommended that you belong to the demographic yourself.

Respecting the identity and private lives of the real people associated with this zine is REQUIRED. No work that aims to seriously theorize further than information publicly given will be accepted. Any assumptions made should be clearly or contextually depicted as assumptions.

The prompt/example submission is primarily for ensuring you've thought of something!

If you wish to submit work with a partner, please submit the form individually and add your partner's info in the provided section

People might be rejected depending on number of responses!

This form is meant to gage initial interest in this zine at all, depending on the feedback it may or may not be used in topic distribution.

Please be at least 18 years old

Deadline for submissions will be determined based off initial response rate. Things are in very early stages so no promises on a finished product as of right now!

#if you have any suggestions on anything we should add pls!#also any questions or concerns

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ocrpfinder · 3 months ago

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🦇🩸 | 18+ Only! Seeking a fandomless ( oc / oc ) mxm or mxmasc rp! I’m looking for characters who are perverted players, cherry hounds, play boys, guys with commitment issues, assholes or pieces of shit who also have soft spots, other criminal scum, big and bad dudes, cold and gruff guys, experienced fighters who can handle their own, guys who can scare others just with a stern look, etc; I’d love for a dynamic of two guys stuck in a shit world ( dystopians anyone? ) or shit situation who have to rely on each other or find comfort and solace in one another, maybe they’re in the same gang with the same brutal leader who constantly treats them horribly and works them like dogs and in a violent fucked up world, the downtime they get with each other is some of the only things they look forward to, maybe they find comfort with each other underneath the sheets eventually. I’d love to have a tense, drama filled, angsty relationship, with complicated feelings for complicated characters — my guy being just as hesitant and scared for a real relationship as yours but oh so desperate for connection; but otherwise I’m all for post apocalyptic, vampires, mortal/immortal, exes, faking one’s death or thinking they’re dead and their partner/lover finding them long after, manipulation and coercion, omegaverse, monster fuckery, medieval fantasy, war plots, cults, viscous and twisted dystopians especially, and heavy dead dove 🪦🕊️ plots with violent and dark themes ranging from murder, horror, crime, gangs, gorey violence, toxic or abusive relationships, incest, noncon or dubcon, age gaps, etc. I have few limits to what I’ll write! The character I’m writing is trans just a forewarning incase that’s not your cup of tea. On that note I’m very much open to trans characters! My guy is no dom top but he’s not a shy, soft, darling type. He’s rough and rugged around the edges. ( Bonus shot in the dark but I’d love to do something inspired by Beastars or in a Beastars like world with a wolf/rabbit dynamic. I’m down for anthro or hybrid stuff, either works. )

A little about myself: I’m a 21 y/o Transmasc writer. I only write on Discord. I’m CST timezone, but I work the night shift currently, so replies out of rp can be spotty. ( I also do my best not to check my phone at work as well. But I will be off for 2 weeks. ) My writing ranges from lazy lit to novella. I need at least 3-4 good paragraphs to be able to work with. They don’t need to be luscious with details, but descriptiveness is much appreciated and preferred. I’ve been writing for around 9 years now, it’s a great passion of mine. I love the escapism of fantasy and made up worlds you can dive into. I don’t do rapid fire replies! And my activity can vary! I will always try to get rp replies in at least once a week though. I can get pretty busy, and rp is a hobby for me right now. ( Trust me if I could do rapid fire, believe me I would, I’d love to write all day long. )

A little about my character: A 4’10” - 5” ft tall street fighter who’s in a gang. Sammy has the body of a rabbit but the heart of a wolf. He’s an insolent, stubborn, younger guy who may be petite but he packs a hard punch and can handle his own to a certain point. His unwavering loyalty and obedience only lies within his gang leader. He might be his pet, but he is in no way tamed. He’s all fire and rage, he absolutely refuses to back down or bite his tongue. He’d find a way to give lip even if his tongue was cut out. All around his familial relationships are shit to say the least. He doesn’t trust easily, he’s paranoid, cold hearted on the outside, and violent. Like a mad dog he’ll snap without warning, his fangs are always bared, and his lips are always curled in a snarl. He’s hooked on cigarettes and booze, and he can’t last without his mood stabilizers. He works at an underground fight club and can often be seen sporting bars, even if he isn’t of age for a plot. The club is a front for the gang. I do often prefer to write Sam in a violent dystopian like setting where crime is rampant, bodies are in the streets, the city’s in chaos, etc. Think the purge almost. Otherwise, he’s just got a rough life on the streets in a gang. ( His age can vary for the plot btw! 🍪 is fine with me. I primarily write him as 20 default, and 25 the oldest though. )

That’s enough yapping for this post, I can talk more plot in DMs! So if you’ve got some characters that match the energy I’m looking for or any you feel would vibe with my guy give a like and I’ll reply asap! Thank you for reading🫶

#oc x oc roleplay #oc x oc rp #fandomless roleplay #fandomless rp #mxm rp #dead dove #find rp #find roleplay

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blackhakumen · 4 months ago

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Mini Fanfic #1223: Settling the Awkward Tension (SSBU X Star Fox)

4:12 p.m. at the Smash Mansion's Living Room..............

Chun-Li: (Slowly Pops her Head Out While Hiding Behind the Side of the Doorway with Fox and Watching Samus and Krystal Sitting the Sofa Together in the Mid Distance) I dunno about this, Foxy.....(Looks Up at Fox) Are you sure leaving those two alone in there is a good idea?

Fox: They've been creating an awkward tension since we got here. Maybe with woth the two of us out of the picture for a little while, they can finally have the chance to talk among themselves.

Chun-Li: But what if it all goes south down the line? (Grimaces at a Thought in her Head) Something tells me those daggers in Sammy's eyes are gonna be more than enough to scare her out of here.......

Fox: Nah, they usually make someone sit down in the ground and cry if anything.....But Krystal's a tough one. A glare like that isn't gonna take her down that easily. And I've known Samus long enough to know that she wouldn't try using her fear tactic on someone without talking it out first....Unless you're name is Ridley and the only thing you're receiving is a point blank plasma blast in the face.

Chun-Li: (Starts Giggling to Herself) Or have an ignited rocket boot kicking 'em in the face.

Fox: (Chuckles Lightly) That's almost a fate worse than death. (Clears his Throat a Before Continuing onto his Poiny) But seriously though, just have a little more faith in her, alright? She does have the tendency to surprise people these days. (Puts on a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Also, quit hugging my tail.

Chun-Li: I can't help it!~ (Hugging and Snuggling Up on Fox's Tail) It's far too nice and fluffy to ignore entirely!~ Did you brushed it yourself by any chance?

Fox: (Snatches his Tail Off of Chun-Li's Hands) No! (Tidies his Tail Back Up) Samus did earlier today. (Starts Pouting and Blushing a Bit) Said she'll kill me if she sees it get messy again.....

Chun-Li: (Giggles Softly) Aww~ How sweet of her, minus the threat, of course.

Fox: (Rolls his Eyes in a Bit of Annoyance) Uh-huh.

Meanwhile Back at the Living Room..........

Samus and Krystal sitting on the sofa a few inches away from each other in silence. The former's too busy reading a magazine while the latter is trying to find some way to start a conversation without make it awkward than it already is.

Krystal: Soooooo.......I uh.....(Puts on a Small Awkward Looking Smile on her Face) Like the way your hair looks! Very nice looking indeed.

Samus: Thanks. (Waves her Hair Back a Little) It's not much, but it's at least presentable for our day out, so I ain't complaining.....(Slowly Turns to Krystal) Your hair looks nice too, I guess....

Krystal: Oh. (Smiles Shyly at the Bounty Hunter) T-Thank you. Mines isn't much to gloss over either, but I'm glad to have regardless.

Samus: (Flips the Page of her Magazine) Cool.

'More Silence'

Krystal: ('Sighs in Defeat') I can't take much more of this any longer!.... (Turns to Samus) Samus, do you truly have any issues with me as of recent?

Samus: (Scoffs a Bit While Rolling her Eyes Without even Looking at Krystal) Gee. Whatever give you that idea.......

Krystal: Well, besides the cold, distant demeanor, I been having this anger, protective, more complicated readings blending in and running rapid within your inner thoughts as of recent.

Samus: Yeah, well- Wait. (Turns Back to Krystal With a Raised Eyebrow) You can read my thoughts?

Krystal: (Simply Nodded) Yes. I've come from a long line of telepaths actually.

Samus: Hm. Neat. (Notices Krystal is Still Staring at Her Before Letting Out a Sigh) Alright, if you REALLY insist on wanting to know how I feel, then here it is: I do have a problem with you.

Krystal: (Lowers her Ears Down with a Hint of Sadness in her Eyes) I...see. And I take it has everything to do with my past relationship with Fox?

Samus: Right again. Did your telepathic powers gave you that answer as well?

Krystal: No, I....figured that would be the reason.....

Samus: Well, it is. You really broke Fox's heart in the past.

Krystal: (Sighs as She Lowers her Head Down a Bit) Yes. I have.......

Samus: But he also broke yours as well. At least from what I heard.

Krystal: That....also happened too, yes. (Sighs While Softly Facepalming Herself) God, we were both so young, stubborn, and....very stupid back then!.....

Samus: ('Sigh') Yeah, love can do that to you sometimes. Or in your case, a cracked, broken one.

Krystal: True. A lot has happened after our messy break-up. I joined Star Wolf, dated Panther of all people-

Samus: Waitwaitwait. Time out. (Points at Krystal Woth a Surprised Look on her Face) You dated PANTHER CARASO, of all people?

Krystal: ('Groans') I knoooow! I still can't believe it either, after all these years. I mean, sure, he's romantic and a gentleman to boot, but he can be such a headache sometimes!

Samus: (Shrugs) What did you expect from the playboy, casanova of the team?

Krystal: (Rolls her Eyes in Annoyance) Not a lot apparently....But after all of that didn't work out, I was so....distant from myself that I even up disappeared from the face of the earth, went rogue and started calling myself "Kursed"!

Samus: That doesn't sound too bad of a-

Krystal: Starting with a the letter "K".

Samus: (Eyes Widened a Bit) ......Ohh okay. Nevermind. That sounds like a crappy nickname.

Krystal: The worse! I wish I could just go back in time and take back all the things I said and did during those moments of my life, but....(Tales a Deep Breath Before Calming Down and Speaking Again) The world doesn't quite work like that, does it?

Samus: Nope. Best you could do us learn from those mistakes and move on with your life from there.

Krystal: (Nodded in Agreement) Right. That's exactly what I did shortly after. It wasn't the easily road I took back then mind you, I can safely say I managed somehow....(Smiles Sheepishly) B-But I think that's quite enough about me for once day, right? How was Fox doing after our break up? I-If you don't mind me asking, of course.

Samus: ('Sigh') He was mess. He was depressed all day, rarely speaks to anyone anymore, constantly blaming for what happened between you two, hell, he would even lock himself in his room all day just so he wouldn't bum anyone out any further than he thinks he has. (Crosses her Arms) He was an empty shell of himself those days and we've been worried sick about him from there......

Krystal: (Clenches her Chest a Little as She Frowns Worryingly For her Old Friend and Teammate) Oh no........He was truly suffering this whole time?

Samus: Yeah, it was pretty rough. Then eventually, one night later, we discovered Fox was nowhere to be seen in the mansion. Almost everyone started panicking enough to form separate search parties. It took an hour and a half to look for him around in the streets 'till I found his Arwing parked in front of aome random night bar. Don't have a slight clue what it's called, but I do remember it's atmosphere upon walking in. It just as sad and empty as he was. So I saw him sitting by himself at the other side and we started talking.

Flashback to an Unnamed Bar.......

Samus: (Raises an Eyebrow at Fox) You wanna go and join the G-Zero Racing competition?

Fox: (Happily Nodded) Yeah. It was the one thing my dad used to do before he founded Star Fox woth Peppy. It's a bit risky in a few areas, but it could be fun after a while.

SamuS: Fox-

Fox: I know, I know, it's a huge leap for me to make, but I think it would be the one thing that could help turn my life around for the better. Heck, I can even have Falco join along, he's a fan of this sort of stuff.

Samus: Okay, but what about everyone of us in the Smash Family, huh? We'll miss you like crazy.

Fox: I'll give you guys a call every chance I get! ('Sighs in Defeat') Then again, it'll only be a matter of time before I start missing you guys like crazy too.....(Facepalms Himself) God, I have no idea what I'm doing with my life, am I?

Samus: Honey, no one in this town has any idea what they're doing in their lives and that's fine. It just means you have to learn and experience out here, you know?

Fox: True......(Takes a Small Sip of his Drink Before Letting Out Another Sigh) I'm sorry for scaring ypu all early. I figured my mood has been bringing everyone down these days, so I went out to get some fresh air.

Samus: To a waste land of a bar?

Fox: Hey, it's not the most exciting place in the world, but it does help clear my head, even for a little bit.

Samus: Hey, I don't mind you going out and clearing your head and all, but you think could you at least give us a heads up first next time?

Fox: Yeah. Promise. Sorry again for the trouble. I promise I'm feeling a lot better now than ever before.

Samus: (Simply Nodded in Approval) Good. And I'mma stay my ass right here and make sure it gets even better from there.

Fox: You sure you wanna do that? My sulking could possibly get on your nerves real quick.

Samus: ('Scoffs') Please. There's a lot of things get on my nerves these days.

Fox: Even Ridley?

Samus: (Groans at the Thought of One of her Most Hated Enemies) ESPECIALLY that murderous bastard......The sooner none of us mention ls his name ever again, the better.

Fox: Got it. But seriously, Samus, you really don't have to stay here with me. I'm sure you have a lot of other things you need to do that's more worth your time.

Samus: (Casually Shrugs) Nah, I'm good for the rest of the night, no biggie. (Takes a sip of her Drink Before Giving Fox a More Serious Look on her Face) Look, I didn't flew all the way out here just to say 'hi' and leave. I'm doing this because you're my friend and I wanna be there for you no matter what.

Fox: (Looks Up at Samus With a Genuine Look in his Eyes) You....really mean that?

Samus: Yeah. I do. And besides, you wouldn't leave me alone whenever something's bothering me for the longest time now, I might as well return a flavor. (Points at Fox While Putting on a More Pouty Look on her Face) So you better not try and shut me out on this, Fox McCloud, or I'm kicking your fluffy ass right here!

Fox suddenly begins to bursts out laughing for the very first time after his break up with Krystal.

Samus: (Raises an Eyebrow) Oh, so my plead is now a joke to you, Mr. Wannabe G-Racer?

Fox: (Tries to Die Out his Laughter, Little by Little) No, no, not at all! I just....(Wipes a Single Tear From Off his Eye) Needed a good laugh is all. Thank you.

Samus: (Scoffs While Turning Away, Crossing her Arms Together) Whatever. I'm still not leaving, you-

Fox: I know. You're staying here with me and I appericate it a lot. (Starts Rubbing The Back of his Head Back and Forth) Though, I really don't know what else to talk about right now.

Samus: (Turns Back to Fox) I got something. I punched Ridley in the face once.

Fox: With your arm cannon?

Samus: (Forms a Cocky Smirk on her Face) An arm cannon with a charged up power shot to boot.

Fox: (Smirks Back at Samus) Nice.

End of Flashback

Samus: Then after that, we safely head back home, watch a few movies, cuddled, and call it a night. It took a while, but he eventually started to get a lot better overtime.

Krystal: ('Sighs in Relief') That's very good to hear. (Smiles Softly) You're a really good friend, Samus Aran.

Samus: (Casually Shrugs Again) Eh. I feel like it's the other way around honestly. I was a cold hearted bitch to him the first time we met, but he never gave up on me since then. (Puts on a More Determined Smile on her Face) And I'll be damned if I give up on him anytime soon, no matter how much of a goody two-shoes he is.

Krystal: (Forms a Bit of a Teasing Smirk on her Face) Don't forget worry wart~

Samus: (Looks Up at the Ceiling and Playfully Groans a Bit) ('Uggh') Don't even get me started! The guy's almost as overbearing as Peach and Mario combined.

Krystal: (Nodded in Agreement) Very much so in my case. (Places her Hands Back Onto her Chest While Putting on a More Loving Smile on her Face) But it's so sweet and thoughtful, I can't help but to hug him for all his troubles~

Samus: Same. Hell, I'm more than willing to hug him right now- (Turns her Attention Over to the Living Room's Doorway) If him and my girlfriend would quit hiding over there and reveal themselves already!

Fox/Chun-Li: (Gets Discovered) Meep!?

Samus: Yeah, we see you two over there. Don't act surprised!

Krystal: (Smiles Brightly) And don't even try and deny it either!~ I have a few, slightly jumpy emotions in both your thoughts whom would love to say otherwise!~

Chun-Li: (Looks Up at Fox) How-

Fox: (Looks Downat Chun-Li) Krystal's a telepath, Chun-Li.

Chun-Li: Ohhh, okay. Neat.

Fox: (Sighs in Defeat as He and Chin-Li Finally Reveal Themselves) Alright, you caught us. We were purposely spying on you.

Chun-Li: (Sadly (And Cutely) Bows at the Two Ladies) Gomenai~

Samus: (Playfully Rolls her Eyes) Yeah, yeah, we know you are. What? You're worried we wouldn't getting along or something?

Fox: Kinda? (Walks Over to the Sofa With Chun-Li Following Behind) You two have been acting awkward with each other all day today, so we figured-

Chun-Li: (Clears her Throat While Giving Fox a Slight Grumpy Look)

Fox: ('Sigh') I figured it would a good idea for Chuns and I to stand back and watch you two talk out your problems among yourselves.

Chun-Li: (Happily and Innocently Nodded) Mmhmm.

Krystal tries to contain her giggling to little prevail.

Samus: (Gives the Duo a Deadpinned Look) You two are hopeless. We can talk our problems out just fine without your meddling.

Fox: Yeah, I know. Just trying to be safe than sorry like I always do. (Smiles Softly) I'm glad you two are getting along now.

Samus: (Turns to Krystal Next to Her) Yeah. I am too. (Turns Back to Fox) I'm also glad to still have someone like you in life. (Gives Fox a Loving Hug) I love you, man.

Fox: (Hugs his Best Friend Back) Love you too, Samus.

Samus: (Makes a Grumbling Noise)

Fox: ('Sigh') What now?

Samus: Your tail. Why am I seeing it messy?

Fox: Blame your girlfriend. She's been hugging on it earlier.

Chun-Li: (Pouts at Fox) It's fluffy!!~

Krystal: (Happily Nodded in Agreement) Agreed. Very fluffy indeed~

Fox: (Turns to his Old Friend with a Light Glare)

Krystal: (Casually Shrugs) What? I'm just stating the obvious truth here.

Fox: That should not be explored any further, thank you!

Samus: (Pulls Away From Fox) Shimmer down a notch, drama queen, we'll drop it. (Points at Fox) You owe another fur brushing session tonight, mister.

Samus boops on the top of Fox's nose before going over to her girlfriend..

Fox: (Rolls his Eyes) I won't forget.

Samus: ('Hmph') You better not.

Fox: (Let's Out a Another Sigh Before He Notices Krystal Goes Over to Hug Him in the Nsck of Time) And what got you in a hugging mood?

Krystal: (Smiles Softly While Hugging Fox) No real reason. I just missed this. And you entirely, of course.

Fix: (Heart Begins to Melt in Genuine Happiness as He Hugs his Old Teammate Back) Likewise. Here's hoping everything goes better for us from here on out.

Krystal: (Giggles a Bit While Snuggling onto Fox's Embrace) Here-Here~

Samus: Hey! Potential lovebirds!

The duo turns to see the two actual lovebirds staring at then.

Samus: (Smirks at the Duo) Would it kill either of you to get a room already?

Chun-Li: (Playfully Pouts at the Duo While Sitting on Samus' Lap) We are trying to have a tender moment here!~

Samus: (Turns her Smirk to the Strongest Woman in the World in Front of her) Damn right we are~ (Gives the Side of Chun-Li's Rear a Little Smack and Grab)

'Smack'

Chun-Li: (Let's Out a Small Yelp) Oh!~ (Smirks Back at her Bounty Hunter) Courageous today, aren't we?~

Samus: I'm as brave as they come, baby~

Chun-Li: Really? Then prove it me then~

Samus: Gladly~

The two ladies lean over and share a tenderness, very passionate make-out session, while the others reluctantly watches.

Krystal: Goodness....(Turns Back to Fox) Are they always this passionate?

Fox: ('Sigh') Out and behind close doors. (Whispers into Krystal's Ears While Smirking) Sammy here is the Bottom of their relationship by the way.

Krystal: ('Gasps') (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprise) Really! I could've sworn it was the other way around!

Fox: Nooope, she's a definite bottom. She can deny it all she wants, but it's underlying true. You can ask her all about it if you want. You'll get a clear picture yourself.

Krystal: (Smiles Sheepishly) I-I think I'll pass on the offer for now. The last thing I want to do is get back on her bad side.

Fox: Fair.

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#super smash ultimate #star fox #samus aran #krystal #fox mccloud #chun li #panther (mentioned)#talk to talk #half a date #reminiscing on the past #humor #hurt/comfort #pure friendship #cute romance #samus x chun li #fluff #edited

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