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liliacamethyst · 2 years ago

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just curious if there's an extra angsty alternative drabbles because i love ur work ! like in a scenario where sun-spider isn't able to care for herself because the pregnancy is taking a toll on her or she got extremely ill OR EVEN GETTING EXTREMELY injured during a mission and lets say the gang is too caught up with spider society business to check on her, how would miguel react then?

ill leave the actual state of sun-spider in your hands 🤭

A LETTER FROM THE SUN

Thank you so much for your request, I really liked your idea- So here's an extra , extra ANGSTY (trigger warning) alternative universe Drabble. I got a little bit carried away I really hope you still enjoy it 💚:

You can barely see through the spots dancing before your eyes as you stagger back to your apartment on Earth 586. You don't remember the walk home from the doctor's office but somehow, you made it back. The weight of the doctor's words still echo in your ears, "The childbirth... It's too dangerous. You won't survive."

It's not that you're not scared; you are, very much so. But more than that, you're filled with a fierce determination - for your child and for the world you've sworn to protect. And so, you put your mask, pull on your suit, and step into the battle once more, fighting harder than you ever have before.

But behind the brave facade, you're struggling. You're tired, your energy gone by the demands of your pregnancy and your duty as Spider-Sun. You're having to deal with the pains and discomforts that come with carrying a child, exacerbated by the unrelenting strain of your battles.

You retreat to Earth 586, hoping to find some solace and respite in your own universe. But instead, your responsibilities there seem to compound your exhaustion. There are still threats to confront, villains to vanquish, innocents to save. You're fighting two wars at the same time - one for your world, and one for your life.

The spider society is oblivious to your struggles. They are wrapped up in their own missions and agendas, too absorbed in saving the multiverse to notice your quiet battle for survival. The absence of concern from the team feels like a sting, a bitter pill to swallow, yet you say nothing, because you understand. So you hide your pain behind your bright smile and valiant spirit, because that's what you do best.

Still, as the days pass, your condition worsens. Your constant fatigue, the severe sickness and the frequent fainting spells- all signs that are hard to ignore. You're well aware that your body is pushing its limits but the love you have for your child growing inside of you keeps you from giving up. You've always fought against the odds, and you're not about to stop now - not when the stakes are that. Higher than they've ever been before.

You're fighting for two now, and that's all the motivation you need to keep going. You're ready to make the ultimate sacrifice for your child. And you'll face it with all the courage and determination that make you Spider-Sun.

Miguel, Gwen, Peter B, and Jess are on a mission in your Earth - Earth 586. It's been months since they've seen you, and Gwen and Peter are buzzing with excitement. Even Miguel, who maintains his stoic façade as always, has a glint in his eyes that hints at anticipation and excitement of the prospect of seeing his love again.

As they land, Gwen looks around, taking in the familiar surroundings of your world. "I can't believe it's been so long," she remarks, a hint of guilt in her voice. "We got so caught up in everything..."

Peter B chimes in, "Yeah, Sunny is gonna give us an earful for sure. I'm surprised she hasn't come to give us a welcome smack yet." His playful remark hangs in the air and everybody silently agrees.

They're here to deal with an anomaly, a Lizard-like opponent. Yet, as the fight breaks out, Peter can't help but wonder why you aren't here. This is your world, your neighborhood, your people. You're always there, ready to protect and serve. So where are you?

"Miguel!" Peter B shouts over the sounds of the fight. "Why isn't Sunny here? This is her world! Where is she?"

The fight ends sucessfully, with Jess instructed by Miguel to take the captive Lizard back to HQ. There's a tension in Miguel's voice, a sharpness that wasn't there before. He announces that he's going to look for you, his eyes flicking briefly towards the city, towards your home. “You guys go back and secure the ugly lizard. I will look where the hell Sunny is hiding.”

"We're coming with you," Gwen says firmly, Peter B nodding in agreement beside her. There's no room for argument in her voice. Miguel gives them a curt nod and so they swinf through Nea Yorkey searcing for their sun.

Gwen’s search for you leads her to knock on the doors of the neighbors in your building. Most people either shake their heads, claiming they haven't seen you, or slam the door in her face without a word. Gwen's worry deepens with each door she knocks on.

Finally, she finds a woman with a bunch of children screaming in the background. The woman looks frazzled, but she stops and listens to Gwen's questions. "Haven't seen her in days," the woman says, wiping her hands on her apron. "There was an ambulance here the other day, took her away. Ain't seen no light in her place since then."

Gwen feels as if the air has been sucked out of her lungs. She thanks the woman and rushes off to find Miguel and Peter B. Her words spill out in a rush, detailing what she found out. "Miguel," she gasps out. "Peter. Ambulance. Sunny's place."

Miguel's face goes deathly pale, and before Gwen or Peter B can react, he swings into the air, shooting webs and flying through the city with a speed and urgency that leaves them behind.

Gwen and Peter B look at each other and immediately follow, but Miguel is like a man possessed, a force of nature.

He reaches the hospital, and without a second thought, he barges through the doors. His heart is pounding in his chest, his breaths are short and ragged.

The reception desk nurses look up in surprise as Miguel, still in his Spider-Man 2099 suit, demands to know if you are in the hospital. There is a desperation as he speaks your name.

After a tense conversation with the hospital staff and almost being escorted out, Miguel is finally given the room number.

The world seems to stand still around Miguel as he enters the room, only to find it empty. The nurse, busy tidying the space and remaking the bed, looks up in surprise at the sudden intrusion.

He's staring at the closed door when a nurse brushes past him, mumbling an apology. A sudden rush of fear and confusion go through him as he turns to see the empty hospital bed. His heart feels as if it's been ripped out from his chest. The room spins around him. Where are you?

"Excuse me, are you Miguel O'Hara?" A voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he turns to see another nurse, her face kind but weary. He can only nod, words failing him at the moment.

"Mr. O'Hara, she's not here anymore. She... she's not with us," the nurse says gently, her eyes filled with sympathy. She hands him an envelope. "She asked me to give this to you if you ever came looking for her."

"I am sorry," she adds quietly, before turning to leave. "I'll be right back with little Gabe."

Miguel doesnt register her words. His entire world feels as though it's come crashing down around him. He sinks onto the nearby chair, clutching the envelope tightly, his eyes staring blankly at it. He's too numb to even attempt to open it or even move.

Gwen and Peter B burst into the room then, worry clearly visible on their faces. "Miguel, what's going on?" Gwen asks urgently, rushing to his side. Peter B follows her but Miguel barely hears them, his blood rushing in his ears.

The world is blurry around him, sounds are muffled and distant. The room is empty, and you are not there. ‘No es real’ and ‘por favor vuelve a mi mi sol’ are the only things he can mumble over and over again tirelessly. The reality of it feels like a crushing weight on his chest and all he can do is sit there, holding onto the last piece of you he has left.

Dear Miguel,

If you're reading this, then I am no longer in this world.

I just wanted to let you know that it’s not your fault and no you couldn’t have saved me. I know how you are, Miguel. You always have been the man who would try to save the world single-handedly, even if it meant sacrificing yourself in the process. But this wasn't on you. This was my choice, my decision and I stand by it. I knew the risks and I am sorry I hurt you.

But here's the thing, I have no regrets. Our child...our Gabriel, he's my most cherished gift to you, Miguel. And I know you, with your awkward, nerdy charm and those terrible dad jokes you think are hilarious, will be an amazing father. You were born to be a dad - it's like your destiny. And guess what? This is your second chance to be the best dad you were always supposed to be.

I know you will protect our baby with every fiber of your being. That's just who you are. My last wish is that you give Gabriel the life he deserves. Raise him, love him, be there for him. That's all I want, Miguel.

And if you ever miss me, just look up to the sky, and I'll be there. Even if you can't see me, know that I'm probably hiding behind a cloud, always watching over and protecting you and our Gabriel.

P.S. Please let Gwen, Peter, Jess, Hobie, Miles, Pav and the rest of the squad know how thankful I am for them. They’ve been family, and I know they will rock as godparents.

Forever shining for you,

Tu sol

The door opens again, and the nurse walks in, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. A baby. A newborn.

As soon as Miguel held the newborn,his son, securely in his arms, he makes a silent promise to you, wherever you are, that he will honor your last wish. He will be the father Gabriel deserves and he will make sure that your sacrifice and love will never be forgotten.

After all, how could anyone possibly forget about the sun?

#miguel ohara #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara imagine #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar issac x reader #oscar isaac imagine #oscar isaac #spider man x reader #spider man

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fever-project · 6 months ago

Text

I’m not DEAD, Daniel (2904 words) by FeverProject Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, Danny Phantom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Wild (Linked Universe) Characters: Danny Fenton, Wild (Linked Universe), the rest of the LU gang are also there but they aren’t important Additional Tags: This isn’t crack but it sure is silly, very much so for me, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Tired Danny Fenton, Wild (Linked Universe) is a Little Shit, might be ooc hopefully not, Misunderstandings, just a little bit Summary: DPxLU crossover because I couldn’t help myself. Surprised I didn’t do this earlier considering gestures at my everything Wild has an encounter with the Ghost King. It is definitely an experience.

Uhhh fanfic, yeah. I’m going to explode. Art

Enjoy 👍

▼

Wild was bored. Which wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, but it was one that he hated. It was night time now and he was supposed to be asleep, just like everybody else in the inn. But he wasn’t like everybody else, he already slept for 100 years straight, sleeping was only useful to him if and when he wanted to be more healthy. And sleeping every night was generally considered to be healthy, but Wild didn’t care, he needed to move.

Out the window he went, quiet as a mouse. Hopefully no one would notice he was gone, and that he would be back before morning came. But there was an entire forest nearby to explore, and he felt like he could-no, should explore to his heart’s content. The wilderness called to him, beckoned him in. That’s what he kept repeating to himself in his mind anyway, as a way to reassure himself, that as a hero who had saved Hyrule, sneaking out at night and potentially worrying the other heroes wouldn’t be a stupid thing to do. Zelda would’ve thought otherwise, and he knew that, but tried not to think about it too much.

The forest was mostly quiet, save for things like the chirping of birds and crickets. The faint rustling of trees was like music to his ears. There was a light breeze, which felt nice against his face as he ventured further into the forest. He tried his best to walk in as straight of a line as he could, to more easily find his way back. He really wished his Sheikah Slate worked properly in this time, maps made everything much easier. But then he would have to go searching for those towers, and while as fun as they were to activate, took up far too much time, much more than he and his group were currently willing to spare.

Wild was suddenly on edge. That odd shapeshifting, Lizalfos-looking, portal opening thing was still out there. Not to mention the black-blooded monsters that thing infected. Wild sighed as walked, now paranoid and frustrated. After a few moments of that, he finally gained enough brain cells to figure out that he should probably head back. With another sigh, which was more of a groan, he spun on his heel, turning around to make his way back to the inn.

Soon enough, something in the air…shifted, he couldn’t tell what. An oddly familiar yet unnatural feeling enveloped his senses as the sky started to turn into an odd shade of pinkish purple. The few clouds up in the sky, only a slightly lighter shade than the sky itself, swirled around above him, as the space in front of him split. Wild felt his heart drop and his breath leave his body as the rift continued to grow. Green glowing light bleed out from it, lighting up the trees and grass and him. Something was happening, something bad, and it was targeting him. He stumbled back, he had to, he had to get away and yet. And yet. It was calling to him. It was scaring him, the world behind the rift hated and loved him all the same.

Wild had to escape.

Wild tried to breathe, in and out, slowly, calmly, he looked for a way out. Trees, there were only trees and more trees and bushes and grass and even more trees-slowly, in and out, his breathing, his breath. He was alive, and he was going to make sure he would stay that way, bright green portal notwithstanding. The portal was growing bigger, quickly, but not as quick as Wild’s mind was when it was panicking. Maybe that meant that panicking was a good thing. Wild almost stopped panicking completely once he realized how stupid that thought sounded. His panic swiftly returned when a white boot stepped out of the portal. When matching white gloves also came out, Wild went to get out his sword and shield, fumbling with his slate as the person emerged from the rift, it closing behind them soon after.

“Excuse me?” The person asked, their words

echoing, despite the conditions for that to logically happen simply not existing here. Wild stiffened, having only gotten his sword out. But he knew deep within his soul that it wouldn’t be very effective against the higher being standing before him. Yet his grip tightened despite that. He wouldn’t run away, not now, he would try his best to fight this being off if he had to. And if that failed, he would retreat, tactically.

The being was dressed in an odd black and white outfit, having tan skin and white hair. Their bright green eyes, glowing body, and their crown that was literally on fire were very clear signs that this person wasn’t anything he’s seen before. Not to mention the hovering. And the portal they just came out of. And the weird voice-and Wild needed to start focusing on the situation at hand.

The being raised their hands up defensively, “Hey, put down the sword, I’m not looking for a fight,” they said, “I’m just. Looking for someone, yeah.”

“Uh huh,” Wild dumbly nodded, keeping his eyes on them.

“Right, okay, let me just-“ they looked around, suspicious at their surroundings, “-okay, don’t tell anyone you saw me, or that you saw this. Actually, it doesn’t matter, forget what I just said.”

Wild nodded again, watching as a ring of light came out of their waist, enveloping them as they donned a more hylian appearance. They had even odder clothes on in this form, baggy and worn. Their skin was paler and their hair was pitch black. They looked like death in the form of a teenage boy.

“Are you Death?” Wild asked blatantly. Listen, he was curious, he need to know this. The being raised an eyebrow at him, confusion evident on his face. “Like,” Wild scrambled to rationalize his less than rational thought process, “I don’t know, you seem scary? And corpse-like? Are you dead? Am I dead-well, no, I can’t be dead, that would be silly, ha. But are you?”

“Well I am the Ghost King, king of ghosts,” they said plainly, with a shrug, “Name’s Danny, Danny Phantom, and that’s really all you know about that. Listen-“

“Aren’t you like, twelve?” Wild knew they probably weren’t twelve, but this ‘Ghost King’ guy looked pretty young.

“What? No! I’m not twelve, I’m like-“ they pouted, like a twelve year old, snapping their fingers in thought, “older than you!”

“Oh yeah, I’m-“ Wild stopped, wondering if it would be smart to tell the Ghost King that he’s technically one hundred and seventeen years old. “I am at least seventeen! And I look like it as well.”

“You’re the same height as me.”

Wild looked at the ghost, glared at them, walking a bit closer to them. He placed his hand on top of his head and moved it forward, towards the Ghost King’s head. His hand brushed against their hair, but it clearly didn’t reach the top of their head. Wild grinned, well, wildly at the sight of being taller than them. They looked unimpressed.

“You’re the one acting like a twelve year old you know,” Danny scoffed, pouting.

“Says the pouter.”

“Look, can you just help me find this guy, since you’ve clearly calmed down now.”

“And why should I?”

“I’ll make your afterlife terrible otherwise.”

“Fine, I’ll help, gosh,” Wild was probably going to help anyways, he liked helping people. He just wanted to be annoying. “So, who and why?”

“Great! So, I’m looking for this guy named Link,” oh no, “Clockwork-he’s a time ghost, don’t worry about him-told me that he was hoping around other times with other guys also named Link.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well-okay, you’re annoying so I’m just going to ignore that-“

“Time isn’t real.”

The two stared at each other, and Wild both wanted to punch himself in the face, and thought he was the funniest man alive. Danny seemed to think the same way too, with their bewildered expression suddenly turned into one holding back a lot of laughter.

“Al-alright, that was good I’ll give you that,” they chuckled, “Anyways, I’m looking for this specific Link because they’re supposed to dead, and I’m supposed to like-do something about that. I think I have a picture of this guy that Clockwork gave me, hold on.” They stuffed their hand through their goddess forsaken chest, and rummaged around like their own body was a mere storage container. Wild was instantly jealous of them. Sure he had his Sheikah Slate, but it wasn’t a part of his body.

Wait, Danny had a picture of him. Oh no, they were going to kill him. He didn’t need them to say word for word that they were going to kill him, but Wild didn’t know what else they could do to him. He needed to be on his toes and hone his quick reflexes in order to survive this ordeal.

“Annnd-nope, that’s my thermos-here it is!” They pulled out a piece of folded paper, and just as they started to unfold it, Wild snatched it from their hand and shoved it into his mouth.

“Wha-WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!” Danny shrieked, hands on the side of his head, horrified.

“‘Cause,” Wild responded in a muffled voice, chewing the paper. Tasted inky.

“Okay, you are definitely the weirdest person I’ve ever met, an I know a ghost who whole personality is boxes, just boxes. Actually, I don’t think he’s that weird compared to some other fruitloops I know of-but that doesn’t matter, spit that out!”

“No.”

“You are acting like a twelve year old-no, even twelve year olds wouldn’t do this, you’re five.”

Wild gasped, photo smushed to the side of his mouth, in between his cheek and teeth so it wouldn’t fall out.

“You’re just mad I’m right.”

“Nah uh!”

“Then how about you spit that out, like a normal, seventeen-you’re seventeen right?” Wild nodded, “Right, like a normal seventeen year old would, or I’ll phase it out of your mouth by force.” Wild did not like sound of that. So he spit out the photo, the slobbery mess falling onto the grass. Even Wild was grossed out by what he had done. Danny clearly was.

“You’re going to have to unfold that yourself, I’m not touching that,” Danny looked sick.

“Yeah, that’s fair, I’ll do that,” why wasn’t the paper metal, then he could use his Sheikah Slate to pick it up. Good thing he had some spare gloves stored in it, so it was fine, it’s fine. He started to unfold the paper, Danny peering over his shoulder, both with matching disgusted expressions. Wild was right about the contents of the drawing. His face, blast scars and all, was right there. Wild looked at Danny. Danny looked at him. Wild wanted to punch them in face and run off, but they are a ghost. But Wild still slowly raised his free hand into a fist, retaining eye contact.

Danny began to speak, “So-“ Wild swiftly punched them in their face, and skittered backwards, trying to look for a way back to the inn safely. The ghost had stumbled back, clutching their face in pain.

“Huh, so you can punch ghosts,” Wild noted.

“You can definitely punch this ghost,” Danny rubbed their hurt nose, “Didn’t even get me a chance to speak.”

“Please don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you, that’s not what I’m here for.”

“Oh.”

“Bet you feel stupid now, don’t ya?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

Danny sighs, pinching their nose, not in pain this time, but annoyance. “So,” they started again, “what I’m trying to do is get you on the ‘Supposed to be Dead but Came Back Anyways’ census. Basically, the name’s a work in progress.”

“And…I’m supposed to do something about it?”

“Kinda? Look, just sign here, and I’ll get out of your hair.” They pulled out another piece of paper out of their chest, with already had a few other names on it in neat little boxes. Wild couldn’t read any of those names, but Danny probably could.

Wild’s face scrunched up, trying to think about what he should do next. They hadn’t really explained their reasoning for any of this, so he still didn’t trust them too much. Maybe this was some elaborate ruse to kill him.

“Will me signing this ‘census’ give me any benefits-will it give you any benefits?” Wild pointed accusingly at Danny.

“Well, are you dead?”

Wild groaned, “I’m not DEAD Daniel,” Wild threw his hands into the air in frustration, “Just use your stupid ghost words to explain to me what I need to do and why.”

“Okay,” Danny squeaked out, “But first off, name’s just Danny.”

“Uh huh.”

“And secondly, I’m doing this because there’s a bunch of ghost legal jargon where your name was already listed on both the ‘dead,’ and then also the ‘not dead’ list after you came back to life. You signing this will help fix that.”

“…Aren’t I time traveling right now?”

“Yes, but it’s still good to note down who had came back to life. Please just make my life easier, this is themost stress inducing part of my job I’ve ever done.”

Wild was starting to feel a bit bad now. So now, with a better understanding of the situation, he took the paper from Danny’s hands.

“Here’s a pen to write with,” Danny gave him a pen from their chest.

“Can all ghosts store stuff in their bodies?” Wild asked as he wrote down his name in the next free box, adding on his title of ‘Hero of the Wild’ in the same box, just to specify things.

“No, but I sure can,” they said with a big smile.

“That’s so cool.”

“I know.”

The two laughed a bit as Wild returned the paper and pen to Danny.

“Well, sorry for not explaining my motivations fully, I’m a bit…tired, ha ha,” Danny rubbed the back of their neck, clearly embarrassed.

“Yeah. Sorry for punching you.”

“Now I’m going to go take a nap. Or sleep for once.” A ring of light enveloped Danny yet again, returning him to his more ghostly form. Then he turned around and held out his hand, before cutting the space there, opening the bright green portal.

“See you in the Ghost Zone, Link! Eventually!” They waved as they stepped into the rift.

Wild waved back, “That sounds pretty ominous, but okay!” Danny laughed at that as he went all the way through, the portal closing soon after. Now Wild was left all alone in the woods.

He needed to get back to the inn.

It took him some time, but he eventually found his way back to the inn. In through the window, as quiet as a ghost, he was back in his room. He flopped down onto his bed, mentally exhausted. He would’ve rather been bored than have had dealt with…whatever that was. Not really, but Wild was certainly ready to go to sleep now, and pray that he wouldn’t have to meet that Ghost King ever again. Not because he was scared, but because he was a bit embarrassed about what happened. He acted a bit stupid there. But none of that mattered now. All that Wild had to do now, was to sleep.

ー

“Has anyone seen the champion yet?” Time asked, looking over the group that were all hanging around the inn’s dining room.

“Nope,” Warriors said with a pop, “He’s likely still asleep.”

“But I’m hungry,” Wind whined, “Captain, do you know how to cook?”

“I know how to make things edible and nutritious,” Wars plainly answered, receiving a few groans from various Links.

“We could just have the food they serve here,” Twilight suggested.

“Champ’s better,” Four retorted.

“How about we all wait a bit longer,” Time said, “It hasn’t even been half an hour since we woke up after all.”

They all muttered their agreements, and choose to occupy themselves with taking count of their resources for the time being. A few more minutes passed before Legend noticed something.

“Hey guys, I think I see the champ coming down right now,” Legend pointed at the staircase, and the other heroes scrambled to see their resident chef stumbling down the stairs.

“Are you doing alright?” Hyrule asked.

“You seem exhausted,” Sky added.

“Ye-yeah,” Wild yawned, stretching his arms, “Ghost problems and all that stuff.” He set out to make some food for his companions, who were looking at him with confusion and concern.

“Ghost problems?” A few of them asked at once.

“Is this place haunted?” Wind looked around with an excited grin on his face.

“Nope, but I sure got haunted in the woods out there,” Wild waved in the vague direction of where the forest was, “Now I’m going to make something to eat, want some?”

Of course they wanted some, food was important. They continued to ask questions about the ghost, but Wild didn’t answer, he didn’t feel like it. Maybe in like, two days he would. But for now, he just wanted to eat some Vegetable Risotto, maybe with a few Endura Carrots thrown in as well. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to deal with that Ghost King again anytime soon. At least, hopefully not before this time traveling adventure ends.

#linked universe #danny phantom #lu wild #danny fenton #lu x dp #dp x lu #writing fever #art fever #linked universe fanfic #lu fanfiction #dp fanfic #I can do whatever I want it’s my birthday(week) 💅

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undyinwxnchester · 8 months ago

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‘Everybody knows that I’m a good boy, officer.’

(Officer!MaleReader x DeanWinch).

NSFW THEMES - SLIGHT AGEGAP

‘Everyone, and I mean. Everyone knew who Dean Winchester was in the force, FBI, and so on. And it seemed whilst pulling a black impala over, you just so happened to be lucky enough to pull him of all people over.

You weren’t aware of what he looked like, just name. So given the fake ID name you are thrown off guard.’

“yeh, names Ozzy Smith.” He says. Odd name, but you brush it off. But you have to still question him given the speeding and lack of paper work.

“Uh-Huh. Why don’t you step out for me, son.” You say in your usual tone, just keeping it stern but not so much to the point it’s going to scare the person off. He doesn’t as first, but complied after a moment. Even in your late 30s, your not dumb enough to think a kid a decade younger than you is going to be named ozzy.

Even if he had shit parents name him. Your sceptical.

His hands fidget in his pockets, a clear sign of something off to you.

“How old are you?”

A simple question he should be able to answer. Still his ‘ID’ in hand, he’s been caught out.

At that - it’s not a surprise he ends up in cuffs, not knowing his supposed age on the ID by heart seems silly. You end up in his trunk, plenty of fake ids, weapons. Everything you don’t want to find in someone’s car.

Hes trying, so hard to do something. Swoon and beg his way out. The flirting is new, for men anyway. But it doesn’t work anyway.

“Oh come on man! Cut me some slack, I didn’t do nothing wrong.”

That’s all that escapes his lips, excuses. Dean is beyond annoyed - he hadn’t planned on being pulled over for little reason and he knows it’s going to be annoying to get out of this. Sams at some cheap motel an hour away without baby. And it seems this cop won’t budge.

He tries his hardest - his usual charm, being oblivious. His usual cocky ‘Fake manner’. But your not a woman, that’s not as easy. So he takes a latter when you’ve eventually got him in a questioning room, alone and cuffed to the table.’

You sit opposite him - your a small department and little of the others know how to question people. Especially people like him. They’d probably end up in tears or confused.

He’s seemingly tired - seemingly.

But acting odd, shifting in the chair and cuffs, before he asks the usual question.

“Need the’ bathroom.”

So, you provide the right like you’d supposed to even if you know it’s something fishy. Your correct. Soon as you unlatch him from the table; even with his cuffs still on.

Your pinned, he’s a big kid. Some muscle on him so it’s no so hard for him to do with you, as you grunt and the cuffs press at your throat you realise this probably wasn’t the best person to allow a bathroom right.

You struggle - eventually pushing him away and able to grab him, but in a rather odd place given he knew his way around a good fight. He ends up.. bent. Over the table.

Your body behind him and you sort of. Freeze. This doesn’t look good. At all.

His breathe hitches - this is a new position for him. Usually he’s the one bending someone over but - welp.

He bucks, tries to. But it ends up with him pressing his behind against your groin, you grunt. And just pin him more in response. This isn’t good at all. For either of you.

“You know- you could have bought me a drink.” He teases, of course when given the circumstances he will in fact still be a weird about it. He’s that kind of guy. Even though he feels.. odd. He’s not used to such kind of people near him.. but he’s not’

Opposed to it. So he uses it to advantage, even though it’ll probably get him into more trouble.

Before you can respond to his crude comment - he bucks again. But more, and more. He’s not used to doing this but he’ll do it for the sake of hopefully getting out of here. His rear moving swiftly, slowly but with a harsh push. You feel your cock twitch - its interested. Your head isn’t.

You move he gets away - you don’t move he gets his own way. Your screwed- oh it feels so good though. He’s not bad looking at all. A pretty kid.. and that ass is just. Speaking wonders.

—

You fucked it- your screwed. Your fired for sure. So sure. After his little charade you ended up giving in, he didn’t mind even though he sort of shit himself at first. Your cock deep into his hole as he’s leant against the table. Cuffs rattling with each heavy thrust.

He’s a heavy moaning mess - and your groaning behind him. As his tight behind sucks you in like no other, taking your inches generously. It’s a little dry, you only used spit but it serves well enough. You don’t care if it hurts him - he’s a criminal after all.

Your hands are tight on his hips, each pound earning you a whine as it barely pushes against his prostate. He’s so close. So close already. Cock leaking onto the table as it shifts with each movement from behind, leaking pre and swelling for some form of attention. It doesn’t get any.

You grind, and you thrust. He even meets your movements- back arching just that bit to move with you. Till he pops. His ropes of white lathering against the table. You continue with him. His orgasm ridden out and his hole just that bit tighter because of it.

Your closer now too. But need just a bit longer. This isn’t an intimate moment. It’s just a fuck. No words are or will be exchanged - or so you thought. He mutters, just barely with such a gruff husky groan, And you almost immediately finish as he does.

‘A-Hah- Right there deputy..”

He’s filled to the brim right after.

———

He leaves. You let him go - no questions asked. Of course you do.

He could just decide to snitch on you and it’ll cost your job, you help clean him up before he does go of course. Little words exchanged, glances at best. Before he goes though. He gives you - his number.

And your left with guilt and dread - fear of your job. But that all heavy feeling of lust and want for more.

You didn’t think The Dean Winchester would end up a good fuck.

——————————————————

Request anything if you want!

🫡

#dean winchester #spn #gay men #mxm #mxm smut #smut #x male reader #dean x reader #age g4p #for legal purposes this is a joke #gay!#i love him #jensen ackles #dean winchester x you

97 notes · View notes

joesbnbg · 5 months ago

Text

cruel summer

part one of everybody wants to rule the world

in which the girls get ice cream, robin has a meet-cute, steve throws a pool party, and everybody gets high [4.4k words]

The summer of ‘85 in Hawkins, Indiana was a scorching one. Tarmac sizzled under the butter yellow sun, cotton candy clouds spun on the saccharine sweet taste of summer freedom. Perfect for soaking sunburnt bodies with chlorinated water at the Hawkins public pool; perfect for long bike rides against the wind, speed and sun burning the rubber of the thin tires; the perfect weather for ice cream.

Which was right where April and DJ were headed, AC blasting in April's beat up ‘74 Chevy Vega, sun reflecting off its faded orange hood as the two teenagers drove towards the Starcourt Mall. Blondie blasted from the speakers and April sang along lazily as DJ chattered over Debbie Harry with unprecedented speed about everything and nothing at all, fumbling with the fringes of her cut off shorts.

April's fingers drummed against the steering wheel as she turned into the crowded parking lot, eyes scanning for a place to park as DJ craned her neck towards the entrance, watching couples and teenagers and families alike clamber inside the mall like sweaty zombies who sought cold air instead of brains.

April pulled into the closest spot she could find, which of course wasn’t close at all, and quickly turned the car off, as ready to escape the summer heat as the rest of her town. She pushed her sunglasses back onto the crown of her head, black frames against copper hair, watching as DJ snaked out of the car window, falling to the ground with an ungraceful thump. April's passenger side door hadn’t worked since she had bought the car over a year ago, but DJ still hadn't gotten the hang of an elegant landing.

“Let’s go,” April said with an impatient smile, head tilted towards the mall. DJ grumbled, wiping bits of rocks from the indents they had created on her palms as she scrambled to her feet, the old canvas of her black converse tearing slightly at her movement.

“I thought when you got a car it would come with less injuries,” DJ said, catching up to her best friend as they began towards the building, beat-up shoes moving in tandem against the blacktop. “I’m fighting for my life out here.” April huffed out a laugh, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder.

“If you were behind the wheel, we’d be fighting for our lives every five minutes. I much prefer these odds.” April responded, pushing through the glass double doors and into Starcourt, a well welcomed whoosh of cool air greeting her. DJ sputtered as she removed the wind blown hair from her face, tucking dark strands behind her ears.

“What, because I went airborne? That was one time.” DJ said as they rounded a corner, making April laugh again.

“Two times.”

“One and a half. Only the front two wheels came off the ground the first time.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Dot, but a car’s wheels aren’t supposed to come off the ground ever. Front or back.”

“They won’t be saying that when cars can fly.”

“Emphasis on ‘can.’ My car is not built for that. No car is built for that. Honestly, I’m starting to think you might have a better shot getting your pilot license.” April said as they walked into Scoops Ahoy, Hawkins’ newest and nicest nautical themed creamery. DJ whistled at the boy behind the counter whose face perked up slightly at the sight of the girls. How this schmuck in an ill-fitting sailor’s suit had managed to win over her best friend was still a mystery to her, but she tabled the thought for later as they approached the counter.

“Too expensive. Yo, Harrington! How do we feel about another driving lesson?” She called at him, a grin tugging her pink lips upward. Steve shook his head vigorously as he moved towards the tubs of ice cream, head bent as he scooped USS Butterscotch onto a wafer cone.

“Absolutely not,” He said, and although amusement colored his tone, it was clear he was being completely serious. He stood upright, passing the cone to April, who took it with a bright smile, one he shared as their brown eyes met.

“Well, take it up with your girlfriend, because apparently, she’d rather sacrifice my palms than get her wizard cousin to fix the car.” DJ said, holding up her scratched up hand as April rolled her eyes.

“Okay, first off, he’s not a wizard, he’s a thirteen year old who happens to know a lot about science, and secondly, he’s not a fucking mechanic. He’s just a kid.” She shot back. DJ shrugged, taking a cone of cookies and cream from Steve’s outstretched hand.

“Close enough,” She said as she licked a dribbler off the side of the cone. “But I’m pretty sure I saw him blow up Older Sinclair’s blender, so really, what’s the difference?” DJ asked, dropping a loose quarter from her pocket into the tip jar, which made Steve involuntarily grimace.

“He’s also not even here,” April reminded her. “He’s at that science thing for another three weeks.”

“Camp Know-Nothing or whatever,” Steve added.

“Camp Know-Where,” April corrected.

“You want a bandaid for that battle scar?” Steve asked, eyebrows raised and eyes focused as DJ inspected the broken skin on her hand. DJ shrugged like it was nothing, because things like this were always happening to her. Steve turned, opening the partition to the back room, calling towards the coworker neither April or DJ realized he had. “Robin, can you get the first aid kit?”

“What, did you sprain your wrist slinging ice cream, Stevie?” The voice called back, and Steve rolled his eyes, gritting his teeth with annoyance as he turned back towards his friends. April trained her eyes on the floor and sunk her teeth into her bottom lip to keep from laughing, but DJ couldn’t help the snicker that escaped her.

“Yeah, Stevie, hurt your little baby wrist?” DJ said, pouting at him. Steve’s eyes narrowed as he turned towards the back again.

“It was for my friend actually, but forget it, because she’s being an absolute dick right now.” He said, and this time April couldn’t stop herself from laughing into her ice cream. “Let her bleed.”

“Are you allowed to curse in uniform? Isn’t that, like, against the company image or whatever?” DJ asked, clearly getting more joy out of teasing the boy than the quickly melting treat in her hand.

“Company image? What is this, Disneyland?” Steve retorted.

“What? King Steve wasn’t an animated Disney classic? Since when?” DJ replied, eyes widening. She laughed, loudly this time, but all confidence and joy seemed to drain from her face as Steve’s coworker stepped out from the back room, first aid kit in hand.

“Who needs the first aid kit?” The girl asked. “Had to look through, like, seven different cabinets to find it. I’m also pretty sure the instructions on this thing are in Russian.” She frowned, head bent as she examined it with bright blue eyes. DJ gulped, trying to steady herself, and April and Steve shared a knowing, amused look.

“Robin, this is April, my girlfriend, and DJ, April's leech. April, DJ, this is Robin.” Steve said, and Robin looked up at them for the first time, eyes training on DJ’s just as DJ’s had trained on Robin’s. Pink rose to her freckled cheeks and she quickly looked down again, focusing on opening the first aid kit again.

“Hand,” DJ blurted, pointing it out towards Robin, who looked at it like DJ had just shoved a knife in her direction.

“She hurt her hand,” April quickly supplied. “Climbing out of my car, because the door doesn’t work.”

“Oh,” Robin said, clearly nervous herself as she awkwardly opened the kit. She pulled out a bandaid and when she grabbed DJ’s hand to inspect it closer, DJ held her breath. Delicately, Robin placed the bandaid over the spot, patting the brunette’s hand lightly as she let it go. The air was thick with the smell of vanilla and tension, and Robin cleared her throat, stepping into the back room again.

“...Huh,” Steve said after a moment, head tilted in thought. “I mean, she’s usually awkward, but she’s not that awkward.”

“I wasn’t-”

“I didn’t mean you, shit-for-brains.” Steve said, eyes on DJ, whose eyebrows knit in frustration.

“I should slap that stupid hat right off your head.” DJ replied.

“You’d be doing me a favor.” Steve said, and April chuckled.

"How long has she been working here for?" April asked. "I've never seen her around." Steve shrugged.

"Dunno. She just sort of showed up and started insulting me."

"I like her already." DJ said, and Steve rolled his eyes.

"Clearly." He muttered.

“So, Stevie-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Stevie, you know it’s really hot out today.”

“Mhm.”

“And you know what people like to do when it’s hot out?” Steve stared at DJ, unamused.

“Go inside and leave other people alone?”

“Go swimming,” April supplied, and Steve turned towards her, raising an eyebrow before wagging a finger between the girls.

“You planned this, didn’t you?” He asked, before turning his attention back to DJ. “Don’t you have a pool?”

“Yeah, but you have something I don’t: absentee parents.” DJ said with a grin, and Steve glared at her, playing with his ice cream scooper.

“Gee. Thanks. Rub it in my face, why don’t you?”

“I’m just saying,” DJ continued, leaning on the counter to get closer to him, “We could have a super-fun-no-parents-pool-party to kick off the summer? I’ll get the drinks!”

“You look younger than Henderson.” Steve shot back, and DJ grinned brightly at him.

“Okay, then you get the drinks.” DJ amended, and Steve smiled with disbelief, shaking his head slightly.

“Is that a yes?” April asked, looking at the boy hopefully. Steve rolled his eyes before finally nodding his head in agreement.

“Fine,” He said. “Fine. Seven o’clock.” DJ broke out into a sly grin.

“You’re the best, Harrington.” She said, and Steve rolled his eyes again, waving his hand.

“Whatever.” He said as April dug into her purse for her car keys, extending them out towards her friend.

“DJ, why don’t you go ahead and get the car started? I’ll be out right behind you.”

“I don’t think the good patrons of Scoops Ahoy will appreciate the make-out session in the middle of their nautical ice cream experience,” DJ said as she took the keys, twisting them around her finger.

“Shut up!” April said as Steve ducked his head down, blushing.

“Wear protection!” DJ called as she headed towards the exit. “I am too young to be an aunt.” April laughed, turning back towards Steve, who gave her a smile.

“So…” April started, leaning closer to him, “I was thinking…”

“Oh yeah?” Steve said, grin growing with the girl’s words.

“We should invite Robin to the pool party tonight.” Steve’s smile faded as he crossed his arms, looking at the girl in front of him.

“Seriously?” He said, blinking. “Why?”

“Because!” April responded, lowering her voice slightly. “She and DJ were really hitting it off back there.”

“That was hitting it off? I’ve seen babies communicate more gracefully than that.” Steve argued, but April pressed forward.

“There’s something there. Invite her, please.”

“How do you even know she’s a lesbian?” Steve whispered, and April's eyes darted towards the back room, making sure Robin wasn’t listening.

“I don’t,” April said, “But I have a feeling if we invite her, it’ll be a good thing. Come on, please?” Steve was silent, thoughtful as he weighed his options. “You know,” April said, closing the space between her and the boy even more, “If DJ has a friend, or somebody, she won’t be as interested in what we’re doing.” Steve stared at her blankly. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say to you, Steve?”

April watched as the idea registered in his brain, eyes filling with recognition and mouth opening slightly. “Oh,” He said slowly, starting to break out into a thoughtful grin. “Okay. Okay.”

“See?” April said, smiling, too. “Invite her.” Steve groaned, looking towards the back room, nose scrunching with disgust at the girl who sat inside of it. “Come on,” April pushed back Steve’s cowlick, moving the chocolate colored hair out of his face. “Please.”

Steve huffed. “Fine.” He said. “Fine. God, I just do whatever you two tell me to, don’t I?”

“Yeah,” April agreed. “You must be real fucking whipped, Harrington.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Get the fuck out of here. I’ll see you at seven.”

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When seven o’clock rolled around that evening, April and DJ found themselves once again inside April's car, bikinis on under cut off shorts and big graphic tees. The sun was dipping below the trees, filtering through the leaves and houses as they drove through Hawkins, the cool breeze that accompanied the late hour playing with the ends of their hair.

“I wonder what else we could get Steve to do because he’s in love with you.” DJ said, watching the clouds pass by as they drove, hand draping lazily out the window.

“He’s not in love with me.” April said quickly, and DJ quirked up an eyebrow.

“What do you mean? He’s definitely in love with you.” DJ said. “I mean, come on, who else would put up with me just to date you? Not many people.”

“Found that out the hard way.” April added. “But can we not… we’re just taking it slow for now, okay?”

“O…kay,” DJ said finally, a little lost. “I wonder what we could get him to do because he likes you so much,” She amended. “Do you think he’d kill someone, or is that, like, a six month anniversary present kind of deal?”

“Jury’s still out on that one,” April replied after a moment.

“No, the jury definitely thinks he’s innocent. They’d think a man who uses that much hairspray probably wouldn’t have any brain cells left to murder ‘cause the aerosol in the can would have killed them all.”

“Okay, he doesn’t use that much hairspray,” April argued, although she barely even believed herself.

“Have you ever seen him without hairspray before, or are you guys not that serious yet? Does that also come with the six month anniversary murder?” DJ kept going. “Like, maybe he murders someone because they’ve seen him without hairspray, or maybe they discontinue it so he murders whoever makes - or, I guess doesn’t make - the hairspray, or-”

“Okay, we get it.” April said as they turned onto Steve’s block, pulling into the empty spot in front of his house, right beside a tree with a branch convenient enough for DJ to use to haul herself out of the car.

She managed the escape a little better this time, huffing as April retrieved her things from the back of the car. DJ frowned at the sight of an unfamiliar bike resting in the driveway as they got closer, nudging April to make sure she saw it, too.

“Is that Steve’s?” DJ asked, and April stared at it, doing her best to pretend she didn’t know who it belonged to.

“Hmm, I don’t know.” She said. “Maybe it’s one of the kids.”

“He’d invite the kids to a pool party where there’d be alcohol?” DJ said incredulously. “Mr. Mother-of-the-Year? I don’t think so.”

“Well, who knows?” April asked as she knocked on the large wooden door. “They like to just randomly appear in places. Could be one of them.” It was a few more seconds until the door swung open, and Steve stood behind it, looking far more comfortable in clothes that fit his body correctly.

“Retired from the navy so soon?” DJ teased. “I thought they were about to promote you.��

“Shut up,” Steve replied before kissing April in greeting as the girls walked inside.

“Where’s mine?” DJ asked, puckering her lips at him. He made a face at her as they walked through the house. Music played softly on a speaker outside as Steve made a pit stop in the kitchen, passing cold beer cans to the girls before sliding the glass door to the backyard open.

“Hey, guys!” DJ almost dropped her drink at the sight of the sandy haired girl in front of her, laying out in a navy blue two piece, nursing a beer.

“You guys remember Robin,” Steve said, gesturing at her as if it wasn’t April's idea to invite her in the first place.

“Yeah!” April said brightly, hoping her excited attitude would draw away from the fear growing in her best friend’s eyes. “It’s good to see you. Isn’t it, DJ?” She turned towards her friend expectantly, whose green eyes only grew wider.

“I-it’s great! Or, or cool! Or, it’s very normal. Awesome. Fun…tastic to see you.” DJ sputtered on her words, drawing a quiet laugh out of Steve. Robin didn’t seem phased as she took another sip of her beer.

“You know, I think we had English together sophomore year,” She said, eyes focusing on April, who smiled with recognition.

“Yeah! I think you’re right. God, Mr. Shipman was an absolute trip.” April replied, twisting her hair up into a bun.

“I took English!” DJ offered, and Steve moved towards her, patting her on the shoulder.

“Take a lap, champ.” He said, and DJ nodded, still flustered as she moved to dip her toes in the deep end of the pool. “That went so badly I hope she doesn’t drown herself.” Steve muttered softly against April's ear, causing her to stifle a laugh.

“So how long have you two been going out?” Robin asked. DJ was still on the other side of the pool making splashing sounds with her feet that were loud enough to cause a scene. Steve and April looked at each other.

“Like… five months at this point?” Steve asked, and April shrugged in agreement. Robin looked between them with a smile.

“How exactly did you pull her, Harrington? She seems a little too cerebral for you.” Robin tilted her head, smile taking form into a shit-eating grin as April giggled and Steve’s face dropped.

“That’s what I’m saying!” DJ shouted from the other side of the pool.

“Well, considering the fact that I don’t even know what ‘cerebral’ means, yeah, you’re probably right.” Steve said coolly. “We met through her cousin-”

“Her cousin who is a child.” DJ added in a yell, cutting Steve off.

“Who I, y’know, look out for sometimes-”

“He’s a glorified babysitter who doesn’t get paid.” DJ continued, and Steve turned towards her, placing his hands on his hips.

“Shut the fuck up, Dorothy.” Steve shouted as DJ padded her way back over to them, wet feet slapping on the concrete.

“Make me, Harrington!” DJ gestured towards him and he moved ever-so-slightly before April put a hand on his arm, redirecting the conversation back to where it had started.

“I tutored him.” April said. “And to be honest, I thought he was a major douche. But he actually turned out to be a big softie.”

“Is that why he can’t get it-” Before DJ could finish, Steve turned towards her and pushed her in the pool, causing all three of the girls to yelp as DJ landed smack in the middle of the water.

“Jesus, Steve!” April exclaimed, though she was laughing. Robin was laughing, too, and Steve cracked a smile, guzzling the last of his beer.

“Took care of that problem, huh?” Steve said as DJ spluttered, spitting chlorinated water out of her mouth and pushing her sopping wet hair out of her eyes.

“Not fair!” DJ exclaimed, although she was smiling, too. Before she knew what was happening, a whiz of a blue bathing suit was making its way into the pool with a whoop, landing beside her. Once she had popped back up out of the water, Robin smiled at DJ, eyes reflecting the color of the pool.

“Couldn’t leave you alone in here, could I?” Robin said, and DJ did her best to keep her body from short-circuiting. Still on land, April eyed Steve nervously, body tense as she waited for him to push her in, too. Steve stared at her, his hands on his hips.

“I’ll at least give you the dignity of taking your clothes off first.” He said, eyes drifting towards DJ, whose large shirt was fanning around her like an underwater overcoat.

“Gee, what a gentleman.” April grinned, stripping off her denim shorts and t-shirt to reveal an emerald green bikini underneath. Steve waited with amusement as April tossed them to the side, then scooped her up bridal style and tossed her into the pool before chucking off his own shirt and cannon-balling after her.

DJ swam towards the shallow end to peel off her now soaking denim shorts and t-shirt, tossing them with a loud plop onto the side of the pool. She felt a lot lighter in just her maroon bikini.

Once the group was officially cooled off and fully chlorinated, they removed their soaking bodies to lay out by the side of the pool, each nursing cold beers, condensation dripping onto the already wet concrete.

“So,” Robin said, a grin plastered on her face as she reached her free hand towards her bag, “I brought something that might make today a little more interesting.” Steve raised an eyebrow, his interest piquing. Robin whipped a baggie out of her purse, holding it up for the friends to see, and April laughed.

“Magic oregano,” DJ said, making April laugh harder as Steve stood up, grabbing the bag from Robin’s outstretched fingers.

“Brownie points for Buckley.” Steve moved towards the nearby table to begin rolling the joint.

“I didn’t know you smoked, Robin,” April said, prompting the girl to shrug. Steve scoffed.

“Are you kidding? Look at her. Her nails are painted black and she’s in band.” Robin made a face as both April and DJ laughed.

“Okay, okay, fair,” April conceded.

“I wouldn’t think you guys smoked,” Robin said. “DJ, maybe. Steve, sure. Definitely not you, April.”

April shrugged. “I like to have fun.”

“She likes to have a break from talking all the time.” Steve translated, licking the rolling paper. April grinned.

“What does that mean?” Robin asked.

“I go really quiet when I get high.” April explained, and DJ nodded enthusiastically.

“Nonverbal, almost.” DJ added. “It’s really kind of funny.”

“Wish you’d go nonverbal,” Steve muttered, and DJ’s head whipped towards him.

“Do I have to remind you you’ve never won a fight, Harrington? Want to make that record zero to three?” DJ said, and Steve gave the girl a wary look, going the long way to avoid her as he moved towards Robin, who held her lighter outstretched towards him. “You’re lucky I don’t have that. All it would take is one jab of that fire in your direction and the amount of hairspray up in that wig of yours would make you go bald in an instant.” April couldn’t help but laugh as Steve flicked the lighter in DJ’s direction before bringing the joint to his lips, taking a puff.

He handed it to April, who took a small drag and suppressed a cough as she handed it to Robin, who took a similar hit, who passed it to DJ, who held it to her lips far too long just to stop herself from thinking about the fact that her hand had brushed Robin’s. She coughed up a storm, handing the joint back to Steve, who laughed.

“Little smaller next time, Wilkerson.” He advised, and she glared at him with watery eyes, trying to stop the coughs from coming out of her. They each took one more hit, then another, until a little less than half the joint was left, which Steve stubbed out to save for later.

It didn’t take long until all of their brains were humming, tuned on the frequency of a certain kind of tranquilness that only came from joints like these. They all stared up at the sky, admiring the way the clouds went by, the shapes they made, the way they danced in the air.

“This is nice.” Robin said. “I honestly wasn’t gonna come, but… this is nice.”

“Yeah,” DJ agreed with a lazy smile.

“If I’d have known you’d had weed up your sleeve, I would’ve invited you over a long time ago, Robin.” Steve said, turning towards her slightly. “Where’d you get it?”

“You guys know Eddie Munson?” Robin asked. Steve frowned.

“Who?” He asked.

“He’s a senior. He’s in that Dungeons and Dragons club, with the long hair? Looks like he could be straight out of Metallica, or something, and he’s kind of weird, but in a harmless way, and definitely nicer than he looks - but anyways, he sells weed, good weed, obviously, and my friend told me about him, and his prices aren’t too bad, so around last year, I started buying from him and was like ‘Oh! This is cool!’ and so I’ve kept going back and-”

“I think you've made your point.” Steve said, shutting the girl down before she could continue. DJ sat up, staring at him.

“Let her speak.” Steve rolled his eyes as DJ laid back down again.

“So, anyways, yeah. I buy from Eddie. That was really the end of the story.” Robin said with a shrug.

“I have such an urge to jump in the pool right now.” DJ said, eyes on the sunlight that danced across the water’s surface.

“Don’t,” Steve warned, shielding his face from the sun with his arm, “You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“No, I’m not,” DJ argued. “And even if I did, you’re a lifeguard, right? So you could just save me or whatever.” Steve gave her a pointed look.

“I’ll go in the pool with you!” Robin offered, sitting up in her own chair. DJ grinned, looking towards Steve again.

“See? Two against one. April, you in?” April shook her head.

“No, I’m good.” She said, eyes closed as Steve played with the ends of her hair. DJ shrugged, moving towards the edge of the pool.

“Okay, still two against one. That’s fine. Majority rules. But don’t worry, Mom, I won’t, like, backflip into the pool or anything.”

“You don’t know how to backflip.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Get in the pool before I push you in.” Steve said, and though he made no effort to move, DJ cannonballed into the pool without another moment’s hesitation.

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i hope you guys enjoyed this part! these characters are so special to me and i'm having such a fun time with their dynamics :)

#platonic stobin #robin buckley #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #stobin friendship #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

33 notes · View notes

stusbunker · 10 months ago

Text

Spotless: Schleppen

Chapter Sixteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam/Madison, Lee/Pam/Benny, Jesse/Cesar, Charlie/OFC, unnamed female character

Word Count: 2644

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, everyone is hungover, Dean steps in it, Sam is so done with their shit, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Dean didn’t sleep. Or if he did, it was in the last gasps of darkness and so short, he couldn’t feel its relief. Alcohol affects the REM cycle, so whoever taught him to have a drink before bed to help with his insomnia (John) was wrong. It was just one of the many things he’d learned in therapy. Dean found he had many things yet to unlearn.

No one who had stayed over was in any better shape when he got downstairs.

Bela and Trouble had bunkered down on the couch in the den, Charlie had claimed one of the bedrooms with a woodland elf, the other spare went to Pam and Lee, but Dean was pretty sure he had heard Benny through the walls, so maybe him too. The other girl Charlie brought along was on the floor curled around Jesse fruitlessly, because Cesar, who was sitting with his back to the end of the couch, still asleep, held his partner’s head in his lap. He wondered if Sam was already up and running until Madison came down the stairs in search of caffeine with a shirtless and rumpled Sam on her heels.

“Morning,” Dean said smugly to them both.

Madison met his gaze and tried not to blush, which Dean found oddly refreshing, while Sam just flipped him off and dove in for a cup of coffee before it was even done brewing.

They moved in hushed whispers, but the Winchesters’ words were doomed to carry with their baritone. After Madison admonished them for not having more to eat in their fridge, Dean stepped up and ordered a combo of both greasy and sweet options to be delivered with an impressive tip to the driver for their discretion.

Bela helped herself to Dean’s shower and some of his clothes. And if anyone had found it odd that they hadn’t slept together, no one was ballsy enough to mention it. Or maybe they were all just too hungover to care.

He still hadn’t seen Pam and company emerge and he wondered if he was going to have to risk walking in on some alternative hangover cures.

Luckily for everyone, the pounding on the front door for the food was enough to rouse the stragglers and beckon them back to civilization.

“Happy 2018 everybody!” Pam croaked with a shiteating grin on her face as she took in everyone’s subdued state.

She was met with lackluster replies, grumbles and a very sarcastic cheer from Charlie. She tutted at them and sauntered her way towards the jelly donuts.

As rough as he felt, Dean lived for mornings (or early afternoons) like this. His kitchen was filled with people he loved, sharing food and just existing together, safe and warm. It’s what being in a band was all about. He started another pot of coffee when Bela slinked over and hugged him from behind, resting her face between his shoulder blades.

“I’ll just have a nap right here, thanks,” she mumbled against his shirt.

“Oh yeah?” Dean peered down at her. “You know, you can take my bed if you’re still tired, not gonna rush anybody out today.”

“‘S too far,” Bela complained. “And I already showered, no sense delaying the inevitable.”

Dean turned in her arms, letting her rest against his chest instead. He rubbed her back and looked up when he felt someone watching him. You sat folded in on yourself on one of the tall chairs, looking as if you were going to puke all over the counter.

“You okay over there?” Dean asked, more alarm slipping into his voice than the jest he intended. He cleared his throat, but didn’t let go of Bela as she turned to look at who he was talking to.

Gaping at him like a deer caught in the headlights, you nodded.

Dean reminded himself to breathe, feeling everything you were saying by the look in your eyes. He fucked up. But in that moment there was nothing he could say that would fix it. Bela was supposed to be his girl, it would be too obvious to step away from her now.

As much as he suddenly wanted distance, he held on tighter, like she was a shield against his feelings for you. And against the look of betrayal in your eyes.

“When do you want to leave— Y/N?” Bela broke through Dean’s silent spiraling and started making plans to get home.

“Lemme drive you guys— could use some fresh air,” Dean cut in before they could order a ride.

“Are you sure? I’m a little out of the way,” you asked, worried over being a burden or being trapped in a car with him, Dean couldn’t be sure.

“Positive, just say when, and I’ll get Baby all set to go,” Dean insisted.

Bela kissed Dean on the cheek and thanked him for a wonderful time, promising to text him her schedule later. She reached over the backseat to grab your hand, smiling mischievously, “another one for the books. See you at brunch?”

“If I can eat by then,” you muttered, smirking as she slid out of the car.

“Bye!” Bela called as she disappeared through the door from the garage into the kitchen.

Dean cleared his throat and leered at you in the rearview mirror.

“You gonna come up here or am I gonna have to call you Miss Daisy?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but you didn’t open your door.

“I can wait all day. If you think you can out- stubborn me–,”

“FINE!” you snapped, throwing open the door and almost slamming it into Bela’s car’s rear end. “Asshole.”

Dean tried not to laugh outright, but you were kind of adorable when you were pissed. Once you were situated in the passenger seat, purse and coat lumped on your lap and seat belt secured, Dean continued to wait.

“What?! We can go now.”

“Easy! I’m just adjusting my mirrors, don’t want to back into anything,” Dean added with an air of responsibility.

“You so were not,” you grumbled, huffing before leering at the sideview as Dean crawled out of Bela’s driveway.

It was going to be a long drive.

Once they were out of the canyon, Dean decided he was going to have to put some of those lessons from Missouri to use. “So— you wanna talk about it?”

You glared at him like he asked if you wanted to eat your jacket.

“Come on, I know you’re pissed. Let me have it,” Dean egged you on, okay, maybe he could have said that better.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you muttered, eyes on your hands.

“Really? You gonna pretend you’re not having a bitchfit right now?”

“Dean Henry Winchester, do not make me call Charlie and tell her you called me a bitch.” And just like that you were all in. “I cannot believe you right now.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, look, you can’t just go around kissing people and then shoving your relationship in their faces. It’s called mixed signals, asshole!”

“Oh, so you can call me an asshole, but I can’t call you names?!”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

Dean sighed, he was letting himself get defensive instead of focusing on what you were really saying. It suddenly felt like a horrible idea to have this conversation when neither of you could escape.

“I don’t know what relationship you’re talking about— the fake dating thing you roped me into?! Cuz that’s not real, that’s playing nice— for you!” Dean hadn’t realized how much he resented you for this whole set up, but now that the words were out of his mouth, things made a lot more sense.

“Bullshit,” you spat.

“You want me to ignore her, huh? Pretend she’s not there, in front of everybody this could hurt if it gets out that it’s all a lie?!”

You turned on him then, taking a deep breath as Dean made sure he wasn’t too distracted to drive. “Is it a lie?”

Dean looked back at the road and licked his lips. How much did you know? How much was it safe to tell you? How much of Bela’s life was private, even from you?

“What are you talking about?! Of course it’s a lie, an act, a ruse! You were the mastermind here, remember?!”

“You know what, Dean? I think the lady doth protest too much,” you said. “I think you know it was wrong to do what you did, but now you’re trying to pin this on me. When I only did it to cover your ass!”

“That is so not fair. I own my shit. What are you really pissed at here? Me in general? Me kissing you? Me hugging Bela? Me making your job harder? WHAT?!”

You groaned. “YES! Okay? YES!”

You stopped your tirade and looked at him and Dean felt you deflate as he glanced back onto the road ahead.

You started over, trying for calm, “you are inherently annoying, I think we both know that.”

Dean huffed. “Yeah, thanks.”

“No, listen. I knew this thing wasn’t going to be easy— for any of us. But it’s the best way to turn everything around. But— if you can’t do it anymore, if there’s something you need to tell me, I’ll understand. We’ll figure it out, okay? Just— just don’t lie to me, okay? I can’t fix things if I don’t have the whole story.”

Dean felt about two inches tall. He wiped his hand down his face and growled, pissed at himself and whatever you were fishing for. Because it was still all his fault. Somehow, he had gotten you home, he pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.

“I can do it, okay? This is on me. I’ll make it right. I’ll be on my best behavior, get us out on tour without a hitch. Make the label all the money and start to earn back everybody’s respect. I owe them all that much,” Dean promised to your suspicious face.

“Dean—”

“What?”

“Is there anything I should know? Seriously. I won’t be pissed. I just— feel like, like I’m out of the loop on this.”

“You were there all night. I think you got a good idea how things are going. Uh, what more can I say, you know? I’m sorry, though, for making you worry. Okay?” Dean ducked his head, making sure you were seeing him, eyes trying to make you see what he couldn’t say, but what he most definitely felt.

Maybe he hadn’t learned anything from Missouri at all. But he was still trying.

“If you’re sure— we’ll keep it going. We've still got over a month before we’re on the road, but it’s gonna go fast now. I just need you to be on your A game,” you said firmly, cementing it into the fabric of your shared reality.

Just keep carrying on.

Dean could do that. He had to.

“Sounds like a plan. And Trouble, do me a favor?” Dean leaned over, slipping into his charming self. “You gotta loosen up, okay? Get a hobby, get laid, just find somewhere to put all this shit you carry so it’s not weighing you down. Okay?”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, tossing the door open and crawling out. “Like it’s that easy. Happy New Year, Dean, drive safe.”

“Later.”

Dean waited until you made it into the house before starting the engine back up. He didn’t go home right away, instead he took a drive along the coast, letting his mind try and untangle the knot you’d just made by having that conversation.

Six am came way too early the following morning and with it, Sam pounding on Dean’s door to get his ass downstairs and into the gym. Right, his New Year’s resolution and his fucking brother holding him to it.

“Gotta piss, calm down Billy Blanks,” Dean groaned, rolling out of bed.

He did his business, changed into something he could move around in, and finally found some tennis shoes at the back of his closet.

By the time he made it into the part of their basement they had turned into a gym, Sam was already sweating with a jump rope warm up.

“What?! I’m here aren’t I? It’s not that late,” Dean grumbled at Sam’s judgey face.

They worked out with little discussion, spotting each other when they moved onto weights. They hadn’t worked out the details of this new shared routine, but slowly Dean felt it falling into place. The strain of his muscles and the swelling of his lungs all reminded him to be present and mindful. To let his body take over building when his mind wanted to use it to punish.

After they had stretched and were winding down, Dean decided to tape up his hands and spend some time on their speed bag. But, of course, that drew Sam’s attention.

Anything that hinted at Cain or Alastair always did.

“What?”

Sam looked him over. “You good?”

Dean didn’t want to have a different version of the trainwreck conversation the day before. But Sam knew everything, more or less anyway. Dean didn’t look up from his task, mesmerized by how soft his knuckles had gotten recently.

“I kissed Trouble.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Sam laughed, actually, genuinely laughed at him. “How’d that go?”

Dean considered the act itself. “Well—- she didn’t hit me.”

Sam sat down on the end of the bench, settling in for the dirt. “Were you expecting her to?

Dean looked over and saw Sam was no longer teasing. “Could you blame her? Some guy like me? A fuck up with a history of diddling her friends?”

“Dean.”

“I know, I know. Believe in myself. I am worthy of love. I know, okay. Just… she didn’t say anything. Just stood there after pulling away, staring at me in total shock.”

“Did she kiss you back?”

Dean thought about it, remembering the way your mouth let him in. “At first, yeah.”

Sam chewed that over. “Does Bela know how you feel about her?”

“Sam, I’m not even sure how I feel about her.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah you are. You just have been too stupid and self deprecating to do anything about it. Does she?”

Dean shook his head.

“Are you guys fucking?”

“Not like, committedly.”

“Okay, well, you should probably stop that. And tell Trouble how deep you’re in it. Like, I hate being alone with you two, it’s so obvious.”

Dean flipped Sam off.

“What? No, I’m serious. You guys just need to get over your shit and tell each other how you feel. And warn me, because I do not want to come home for like a week after all those years of tension is finally worked out, god.”

Dean kind of gets lost in that image for a minute. “Nah, we’d go to her place. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Sam couldn’t even tease him after how pathetic he sounded. “But first you need to tell her.”

Dean sighed. “I can’t. I promised her I’d behave and stick to the plan. I can’t risk pissing off Dick and Crowley anymore, I don’t want to jeopardize the band.”

“I’m pretty sure I told you this was a bad idea and I just want to reiterate that point,” Sam snarked.

“Yeah, well, them’s the breaks,” Dean huffed as he hauled himself up and squared off with the hanging bag.

He found a rhythm and kept on his toes.

“Dean, seriously, just tell her how you feel. Life’s too short, you know?” Sam said to Dean’s back.

Dean sighed, upping his pace. Because, yeah, life was really too short.

But there was still nothing he could do about it now.

Author's Note: LISTEN! I did not even outline the first 2/3rds of this chapter. IT just HAPPENED, so yeah, they're still both idiots.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Seventeen: Trill

#spotless series #dean/reader #dean/bela #fake dating #rockstar au #slow burn #dean angst #dean winchester fanfiction #should i be calling this a love triangle

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mowiwow · 7 months ago

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four a.m. (modern lars)

In the earliest hours of day, or perhaps the latest hours of night, his eyes slowly open.

It takes a second for the world to come into focus. His screensaver, a picture of the very first painting he bought from you, has long since been replaced by a sea of inky darkness. The cold white light of his office forces him to squint his eyes a little as he surveys the room.

With one hand idly running through already messy blonde locks, Lars moves the mouse to his desktop and blinks slowly at the time displayed in the corner.

4:51 A.M.

An odd hour. Not concretely night, nor is it concretely morning.

…He must’ve fallen asleep right after finalizing everything for tomorrow.

Lars supposes that it’s already tomorrow.

Quietly, in that lonely office elevated high above the streets that everybody walks, the CEO laughs to himself. He leans back in his chair, wincing when his limbs protest in the form of a dull ache. He stares blankly at the ceiling, not yet fully awake.

When was the last time he fell asleep like this?

Usually, he would’ve managed to at least move to the couch in the office. Lars thought he had the strength to fight off the ever-pervading sense of exhaustion, but perhaps he thought wrong.

Or…

Maybe not.

He’s pulled his fair share of all-nighters in the past. If he had to make a guess, the thing that was different was…

Well, after being reminded to take frequent rests by a certain someone, Lars has started to remember what it was like to feel exhaustion as any other regular human would. He lets out another groan, as a faint headache pokes and prods at him. No doubt, it was the lack of sleep he’d been getting during this busier season.

In this large room— a room he spent more time in than his own bedroom— Lars lets himself massage his forehead in an attempt to ease the headache. Nobody’s around for him to entertain, so he freely lets his lips purse into a vaguely annoyed and tired frown.

He really should sleep sometime.

Truthfully, it wasn’t only you that reminded him to get more rest. Mrs. Lane, the housekeeper, occasionally hinted to him her concern over the eyebags he tries to hide. His grandmother, when he calls her— something that tends to be rarer nowadays due to his hectic schedule— often checks up on him when she picks up on the slightest sleepy drag of his words.

Even his driver sometimes looked back at him, from the front mirror, and Lars could see the concern in Mr. Bond’s gaze through that reflection.

Maybe he’s losing a bit of his touch. There are far too many people who have been trying to subtly hint at Lars that he needs more sleep.

…What can he do? With much of his day dedicated to discussing with various business partners, or tending to commitments that had been scheduled weeks earlier, the night has to be dedicated towards preparing for the next hectic day.

But when he imagines your puffed-out cheeks, furrowed brows, and eyes peeking at him with blatant concern, he lets out a resigned sigh.

Lars is stubborn, but he is no fool. He’s aware that he’s pushing the limits of his body, and that it would be wise for him to spend more time— at the very least— napping rather than staring at documents.

After meeting you, he’s been able to dedicate a little more time to relaxation. Not much. Yet it’s just enough that, once Lars has hit the busiest month of the year, he’s filled with an indescribable heaviness. He’d love to crawl into a warm, fluffy bed right about now.

Honestly, he’s not sure how to feel. Should he laugh? Or cry? It would seem that meeting you had made him more prone to noticing his own exhaustion. He fears he might not be as tolerant of all-nighters anymore.

Well, no point in sitting around to think about it. He still feels exhausted, and he can afford a short nap before he’ll have to continue on with the day.

Might as well get in those final hours of sleep somewhere more comfortable than his desk.

Lars stands up, dragging himself over to the couch in his office. The tired shadow that covers his usually brilliant eyes lightens up a little when he spots the blanket carefully folded on one of the couch cushions.

It’s a faintly yellow blanket with a simple, cartoonish lion stitched onto one corner. Beneath it is a plain pillow that stands out amongst the fancier pillows decorating the couch. On it is a sunflower, stitched on in a similar manner as the lion.

He feels warm. And, as he wraps himself up in the blanket, with his head resting on top of the pillow, it’s as though he’s engulfed in a kind and sincere hug.

Some days are harder to get through than others. But, when he remembers all of those who continue to care for him through their own schedules, through their respective hardships…

Well, he thinks he can keep on going for many days to come.

#lovebrush chronicles #lovebrush lars #lovebrush chronicles x reader #lars x reader #lars rorschach

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zqmbiescorpse · 2 years ago

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GLADIATOR, PART 3

johanna mason x female reader

a/n: i feel like they part is really wordy lololololol, also everytime i try to proof read i get very bored, so i will do it eventually (probably)

summary: after winning the 72nd hunger games, quite a name had been made for you in the capitol - quickly becoming a favourite across panem. because of this, naturally, you find yourself thrown back into the horror of the games due to the 3rd quarter quell, representing district 5 one last time. though, not all is lost, fellow tribute and close friend, johanna mason of district 7, finds herself in the same position.

tags: graphic depictions of violence (sometimes), johanna mason, katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, finnick odair, johanna mason x female reader, catching fire, mockingjay part 1, mockingjay part 2, 72nd hunger games, 75th hunger games, gore, eye gore, detailed descriptions of eyeball squishing, disabled reader, female reader, reader is missing an eye, reader is missing limbs, missing fingers, traumatic events, blood, choking, johanna mason needs a hug, rebellion, slow burn, mutual pining, scared of feelings, fluff, angst, making out, kissing, confessions, peeta has his prosthetic leg, maybe smut idk, tension, awkwardness, wlw, i love johanna so much

warnings for this part: making out, kissing, some angst

word count: 3.5k

(part 4) (masterlist)

The tribute parade was definitely something. Experiencing it for the first time, three years ago, it hadn't seemed so bad at the time - possibly due to the overwhelming anxiety and fear that kept you from processing any other emotion. However, going through it again made you realise how ridiculous the whole thing was. You hated everything about it. Sure that it was a humiliation tactic provided by the Capitol for entertainment, you had observed each of the various tribute outfits and were unable to detect anything that looked decent. Aside from the dazzling black material, which caught aflame, worn by Katniss and Peeta, everybody looked as stupid as they felt. How were your stylists allowed to do that to you?

In all honesty, it was a major struggle to keep a straight face, at that point you were just completely over it and couldn't take it seriously, eventually accepting the fact that you were dressed disgustingly. During the parade you found yourself distracted, fortunately, concerned with one thing. Johanna. Especially after the previous night, she remained prominent in your mind throughout the entire day and you were quite desperate to see her again.

You'd caught a few glimpses of her, each time you did you fought with yourself to stifle a laugh, although, to her credit, she managed to pull off the outfit in an odd way. Maybe it was because you found her extremely attractive, but even dressed as a tree, Johanna looked exceptional.

You were waiting in the lobby of the apartments with your stylist, mentor, and the male victor of your district, Gus. He was about 20 years older than you, the greys scattered in his hair growing more obvious with each day. The two of you weren't close and you hadn't discussed alliances with one another, assuming that in the arena you would be going your separate ways, which you were fine with, you didn't mind Gus at all, he was a nice guy.

"Ah! You both did so well today! Y/N, Gus, you looked amazing!" Your stylist, whose name you hadn't bothered to retain, announced delightedly, clearly very pleased with her work. She clasped her hands together and smiled widely before suggesting all of you return to the District 5 apartments for a meal, to celebrate.

Politely, you declined. You feigned exhaustion, excusing yourself and going on ahead with the intention of hiding away by yourself for a few hours. You said you were tired because of the hard work you'd done today, playing it up massively, yet, your mentor bought it and let you go.

You approached an elevator at the far end of the corridor, failing to see the victors from District 12 and their mentor enter it. About to step in, you finally noticed that you wouldn't be alone, becoming hesitant at the presence of Katniss and Peeta. Haymitch caught your eye with a look of reassurance, he was encouraging you to join them.

"Y/N Armstrong, District 5." While the idea of leaving them be and getting on the next elevator sounded a lot more appealing to you, Haymitch didn't give you the opportunity to decide for yourself, loudly declaring your arrival before you had the chance to back away.

"There's my favourite warrior," he joked as you nervously made your way, standing by his side to create some distance between yourself and the other victors.

"Hello, Haymitch," you spoke with an easily detectable awkwardness, causing your cheeks to heat up slightly at how strange you thought you'd sounded.

Similarly to most winners of the Hunger Games, you'd been given a nickname relevant to your triumph, branded by the Capitol for all of eternity. To them, you were known as the warrior, or, more commonly, the gladiator. Someone who was a ferocious fighter and absolutely brutal during a battle of life and death. Unfortunately, it was an accurate description considering the circumstances of your victory, but you found it funny how gladiators were usually slaves, trained and forced to fight, and weren't predicted to live long lives. The latter half you found you related to more.

Normally, hearing people call you that made you uneasy, cringing each time you were addressed as such, yet, when Haymitch called you that you knew it was him poking fun at the Capitol - mocking them, not you so you didn't mind it at all. Besides, you were close enough that you found some humour in his methods too.

Not much more was said, the atmosphere was uncomfortable and it didn't help that you could feel both Katniss' and Peeta's eyes constantly on you, both of them staring at your injuries.

"I'm not a fan of prosthetics," you blurted, brushing off any insecurity you had, faking confidence while you smiled at them. You sensed the comment had broken some of the suspense, since the elephant in the room had been acknowledged. Sometimes you walked around without even an eyepatch covering your socket, shortly after the tribute parade you removed the one given to you, discarding it. Consequently, you were feeling quite exposed standing there with people, who were pretty much strangers, the old wound on display for them to see.

"If I didn't need it to walk, I wouldn't either," Peeta spoke up, a welcoming warmth to his voice. You appreciated his response, the both of you were able to relate to each other, him wearing a prosthetic leg due to an infection that made him need to amputate. At least you could say that you and Peeta were somewhat friendly. You knew that Haymitch was probably pleased, happy that you were taking the plan of rebellion seriously by attempting to connect with the District 12 tributes.

"Why don't you wear them? If anything, you're just putting yourself at a huge disadvantage." That was the first time Katniss had ever said a word to you, her tone harsh, communicating suspicion and uncertainty perfectly. For some reason, you were getting the feeling that she wasn't very fond of you. Then again, untrusting and closed off was a large part of who Katniss was, understandably, so you didn't take it to heart.

"I like how it makes them uncomfortable." You were totally honest, having your injuries on show often satisfied you in a weird way, refusing to let the Capitol disguise what they did to you.

You could tell Katniss was a fan of your response, something in her face changing, it relaxed a little as suspicion morphed into respect. Imprinting a positive impression, the air felt a lot clearer than before and you felt you could breathe better, any anxieties about the situation disappearing.

Little conversation continued but you still felt that you'd managed to make a good amount of progress today regarding alliances. Then, the elevator doors slid open, allowing Johanna to saunter through them, that frustratedly amused expression, which she commonly wore, present. She briefly acknowledged you, enough to make the blood start rushing. You could tell that she was up to something, intrigued and glad to see her, you watched on intently.

"My stylist is such an idiot. District 7, lumber…trees. Ugh, I'd love to put my axe in her face." She rambled on, anger seeping through her words while she let her crimson hair flow free and removed any extravagant jewellery inconveniencing her.

The image of Johanna axing someone in the face. No matter how hard you tried to not be attracted to the idea of her doing that, you couldn't stop thinking about it. You too hated your stylist for what she made you wear, consequently seeing no issue with what the fired-up redhead was saying. God, just the thought of it made you feel…something.

Seemingly lost, drifting away in the daydream, you'd missed the part where Johanna got undressed and was now completely naked in front of the four of you, flashing everyone standing in the elevator. You'd heard that earlier on in the day, Finnick had approached Katniss in the same playful manner, more subtly since he didn't strip off. It was a way of lightly intimidating her, observing how she would react in an uncomfortable situation; having some fun at her expense yet seeing whether the person they were risking their lives to protect was worth it.

Haymitch and Peeta were clearly enjoying themselves, shamelessly taking in everything Johanna had to offer. On the other hand, you struggled to not stare at her stunning body, her bare chest perfectly in line with your sight if you were to look ahead like a normal person. Your eyes fixated on every spot around your area that wasn't the person in front of you, you were a flustered mess, blushing all over, now feeling rather warm.

Although what she was doing was not aimed towards you, Johanna took notice of every reaction you were having, relishing in how nervous she made you feel, every smidge of red splattered on your cheeks was because of her, and she was proud.

You could almost smell the disgust radiating from Katniss, unimpressed by Johanna's stunt, she tried seeking support from you as together you'd discovered a newfound respect for one another. She expected you to be equally repulsed, only to find that you were trying so desperately to not pass out because of Johanna. Katniss bit her tongue, rolled her eyes and came to the conclusion that you were into Johanna, though, at least you were being more respectful about it. Haymitch and Peeta gawked while you had the decency to look away, even if it was because you felt awfully tense and awkward due to the attraction and feelings you had for her.

With the rise of a perfect brow, the fierce woman gave one last glance at everyone, winking at Haymitch, the pair exchanging knowing looks. Sensing her departure, you quietly let out a sigh of relief, having been holding your breath, allowing your heart rate to regulate. Regaining confidence, your vision altered itself from a top corner of the elevator to what you expected to be an empty space ahead of you. To your surprise, Johanna remained unmoving, her dangerously mischievous eyes already on yours.

You had no chance to inquire, her hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, her grip firm, practically dragging you away with her - a delighted cheek plastered to her face.

"Thanks! Let's do it again sometime!" marvelled the domineering woman, her voice getting lost to Peeta and Katniss while she made her way into the hallway, a very confused, uneasy you trailing behind, sort of against your will?

"I was supposed to get off ages ago, this isn't my floor," the sudden realisation hitting you, displaying stupidity since this was unmistakably not your floor.

"No, it's my floor, and you got off at the right time, with me. We're going to my apartment," Johanna informed you, leaving no room for protest.

At that moment, she spun around to face you after leading on in front, finally releasing the hold she had on your reddening wrist. However, she made sure to run her thumb gently over the mark, sparking jolts of an electric sensation down your left arm, then she dropped your hand.

"Why?" Your voice was laced with bewilderment. There was an additional something you were meaning to vocalise, but any recollection of what it was disappeared once you were faced with the naked woman again.

"Johanna, I can't believe you're wandering around without any clothes, shouldn't you, yknow, put something on?" Fumbling your words here and there, a cloud of scarlet dust crept its way back up your neck.

"Well why do you think we're heading back to my room?" She mocked, inching closer to you, whispering, “What is it, baby? Do you not like my body?”

You froze, slightly wide-eyed, a feeling of dread at the lack of ability to think of something to say. Johanna just laughed.

“Okay…whatever, let’s hurry up then. I mean, what if someone sees you?” You finally responded, purposefully ignoring some parts of what she’d said, apparently more embarrassed than she was.

“You’ve already seen my plenty,” She smirked, her pointer finger jabbing into your shoulder, “So has Katniss, so has Haymitch, so has Peeta. It doesn’t bother me, I’ve been seen in worse states anyway, crying, shaking, covered in the blood of others, right? And the whole of Panem saw that.” The seductive expression never left her face while she was talking, a huge contrast to the words coming out of her mouth, the sinister undertones lacing them.

Johanna witnessed a change in you. She was enjoying the teasing and seeing you tense up every time she took a step closer to you, until getting any closer wouldn't leave room to breathe. Although it was doubtful that she would ever confess it, she disliked seeing you sad, and you were looking pretty dejected after she reminded you of the world you were living in, having been immersed in whatever was occurring between you both.

Eventually, you had gotten back to her apartment and Johanna wasted no time getting dressed into a more casual attire, disappearing into her closet. Her room appeared identical to yours: same rectangular shape, same double bed with the same luxuriously styled sheets, same window, and even the same bedside table.

"Is everything alright, Johanna?" You asked, growing ever more curious as to why she brought you all the way here.

"Mhm, yeah, why'd you ask?" She called back, still out of sight.

"Because…is there a reason why you wanted me here?" You could only imagine how timid you sounded, glad that she couldn't see you fidgeting about.

"Was you expecting something? I bet you thought you were gonna get lucky," Johanna almost howled, reappearing suddenly.

"What? No… we're friends… I don't know, maybe I thought you needed something…" Your voice trailed off, each word getting harder and harder to hear, almost a fearful whisper as you awkwardly laughed your way through your speech.

The unique effect Johanna caused whenever she was around you was extraordinary - a tense thrill that you could never want to dispose of. It was humiliating how you seemed to melt into a goopy, uncoordinated puddle on the floor each time she gave you the time of day. Considering the less-than-ideal world you lived in, not many things brought joy to your life, hence your strong attachment to the short-tempered tribute from District 7, thus, it would be a total lie to pretend that you weren't expecting anything to happen.

Seeing her on the opposite side of the space, you were caught in her cheery gaze, provoking a smile to form on your lips. This seemed to satisfy her ever-growing playful mood.

"Well maybe I do need something, baby…" Johanna suggested, a nonchalant grin gracing her alluring features.

It was aggravatingly slow. She wasn't even that far from you. Yet, Johanna took her sweet, sweet time moseying over, each step she took closing the gap keeping you apart.

"Whatever it is, I can try my best to help. I'm always here for you and stuff…" You claimed, the nerves rapidly ramping up. Fully aware that advice and a conversation weren't what the enticing woman before you desired.

An approving hum tickled your ears, Johanna was now so near to you that you could feel her warm breath on your lips, mere centimetres apart from hers. You were desperate to close the gap but couldn't bring yourself to do it, something was stopping you from finally putting an end to all the agonising tension. Maybe it was the fact that you couldn't possibly fathom the idea of someone as beautiful as Johanna expressing a romantic interest in you. Maybe her bringing you back to her room, backing you into a corner, was just another teasing gesture that in a few moments would be over and everything would die down the moment things started to feel serious between you and her.

"What is it, pretty girl? What are you thinking?" Johanna almost whispered against your lips, a whole new wave of red coating your cheeks.

Lacking a response, the beautiful woman took it upon herself to cup your face in her soft hand, feeling the heat radiating off your skin, while she gently tilted your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze. You observed an odd mix of emotions, her eyes suggesting seduction, lust, desperation, longing, yet, there was also uncertainty and fear.

"Johanna…please…"

As much as she was giving in to your pleas, Johanna was giving into herself, she'd been craving your affections and couldn't hold herself back any longer, though there was an isolated nervousness to her that was hidden excellently, you didn't notice a thing, too excited and wide-eyed her lips meeting yours.

It was barely a brush, a soft press, sudden feelings of hesitancy present again and the kiss did not last long. You felt quite satisfied, having managed to feel her lips against yours, even though it was short - yearning for more. Sparks ignited your entire bodies because of the tender moment, spurring Johanna on.

Her mouth soon connected back to yours, crashing into it hungrily, her tongue swiping across your lips, which you parted, accidentally whimpering into her mouth. This kiss continued to deepen, becoming bruising, you couldn't help but feel like she was being a little rough, not that you minded, triggering a similar amount of passion from you.

The past three years have brought a strange relationship into your life through the likes of Johanna, it had been very gradual, for starters, not seeing her as much as you had wanted caused your friendship to build at an excruciatingly slow pace, the romantic feelings that came later were danced around for far too long - tensions constantly high, the desire for one another ever-growing

Her hands roamed your body, fingers trailing around your hips, she grasped at your clothes and guided you backward pushing you flush up against the wall in her apartment. Clearly the more dominant out of the two of you, Johanna seemed to be in control, leading the kisses and the occasional touches over each other's aroused bodies.

Breaths were few and far between, more concerned with keeping the movement of your lips entwined; like your mouths were glued together, impossible to part, the simplicity of inhaling and exhaling became their least significant thing. But you did part, eventually, not wanting to lose the closeness, your hands remained tangled in her dark hair and Johanna left a series of pecks around your lips, regaining air every other second.

The erratic atmosphere came to a halt, presenting an opportunity to calm down. Faint pants could be heard, but that was all. A grin stretched across your face, wide and hopeful, never breaking eye contact with a content Johanna. She wasn't smug, amused, or teasing, appearing genuinely pleased. It was a moment you could bask in for hours, a golden glow basking you both, in her arms, playing with her luscious locks, reshaping the spikes that added so much to her personality without fail.

And then, she pulled away.

Immediately, you could sense something was wrong. The previously loved-filled eyes looking down at you in a memorised trance turned sinister, the happiness washing away and being swiftly replaced by…regret?

You could feel a shake against your waist, her smooth palms let go and she retreated back into herself. A distance had been put between you, physically and emotionally.

"Johanna, what is it? Did I do something wrong? Are you okay?" Whereas the words would usually come tumbling out of your mouth due to nervousness caused by a silly, awkward crush, here, you were stumbling and stammering because you could see the cogs turning in Johanna's mind - caught up in her own dreadful thoughts, a painful expression flashing her features.

She didn't respond. Growing worried by the second, you tried to move nearer, consequently, Johanna became infuriated, the intense anger she would aim towards everyone in the Capitol, a side of her you hadn't witnessed directly.

"You need to leave, go, I don't want you here!" She yelled, repeating it until her throat went sore and her eyes started to water from frustration.

Initially, you stood there, perfectly still. To understand would take a while. It was obvious how scared she was and that frightened you, you struggled to comprehend the abrupt change occurring so drastically, your world crashing down around you. The sweet bliss and sheer joy you had felt were rare, the last time you had felt so happy was hard to recall, however, your naive heart was being crushed by the one who had made it beat so freely.

Your stomach turned, nausea corrupting your senses, the shouts for you to leave never ending, and getting through to Johanna was impossible. Tears flowing, streaming down your cheeks, you made haste, slamming the door as you left - consumed by sorrow and bewilderment.

That night, you didn't get much sleep.

#johanna mason x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #finnick odair #katniss everdeen #lqbtqa #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games #catching fire

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anonymous-dentist · 1 year ago

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q!Etoiles assuring q!Cellbit last night kinda made me realize that they’re two kinda similar characters when it comes to how the island sees them, because the island doesn’t actually see them.

Think about it.

Etoiles is the Code Breaker. He’s the island’s shield. He is their last line of defense for protecting the eggs and, if he dies, so does everybody else. Imagine how that feels, knowing that one mistake could kill every last child on the island. When there’s a Code, call Etoiles, he’ll always come running because he’s the only one who can. Even when he isn’t confident in his odds, everybody looks at him like a hero and says he’s their last hope, and that’s gotta wear a guy down

And Cellbit is the mystery guy. If there’s a mystery, he’ll solve it. Even if the island doesn’t necessarily trust him, they depend on him to solve things even when he himself says that he doesn’t think he can. People see a puzzle and go, “Well, Cellbit can fix this!” When he ‘wakes up’, at least one person has usually gone, “Oh, good, he’s awake, now we can solve this enigma and stop the Federation”. And after all the failures he’s been experiencing lately, the fact that everyone leans on him to help solve everything has to be breaking him

So Etoiles assuring Cellbit last night was one tired hero telling the other that it’s okay. It’s hard now, but it’ll be okay. And I think he’s the first person besides Pac and Roier who’s actually acknowledged how hard Cellbit must be taking all of this considering half the server is waiting for him to figure things out and rescue all the eggs and save Forever. He’s a hero, but he’s also just a guy, and I think Etoiles the French Beast, who just wants to keep his daughter and her friends safe, knows that better than anyone

#idk I have brain worms

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cryptidofthewww · 4 months ago

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Turning AU!!

Spirit King Yuder!

Spirits have long since persisted in the world of turning, although very rarely are they seen by humans. They’re kind of like fae in that they are elusive, mischievous, and inhuman. Spirits like to make deals like fae, and the only real difference is that they’re all embodiments of elements of nature. The older the feature of nature is the older the spirit is. Although to even look like a child the spirit has to be centuries old (ex: rivers, newer landscapes) spirits of things such as flowers and younger trees are more like sprites or animals, and have a similarly lower intellect. Humans are as aware of spirits as we are of fae (few believe but it is somewhat widely known) spirits typically can’t be seen which is part of why people don’t believe in them. The Awakening happens as per usual and this is where Yuder comes in.

Basically there are two options for this AU

Yuder has been spirit king since forever and isn’t beholden to the same rules as his subjects. So when the awakening happens he gets curious and attempts to insert himself into life near the site of the red stone. This ends up with him joining the cavalry, this time with his motivation being satisfying his curiosity. He ends up in various shenanigans with the cavalry as a result of his clear inhumanity. It would be extra funny if literally everybody thinks Yuder is a spy because of how suspiciously he’s acting (talking to thin air, sneaking around, missing at odd times, disrespecting ALL royalty) and when Enon joins (they already know each other) he adds fuel to the fire because he thinks it’s funny. They probably find out because one of the spirits forgets to hide themselves one day.

2. The ANGSTIER option

The spirits have their own main element(wind, earth, fire, water) kings, but when Yuder gains abilities from the red stone he gains the ability to control all of nature. A power that no one else in the history of the world was able to do. With all of nature (meaning spirits as well) respecting his will, this triggers Yuder’s gradual ascension into a spirit (king).

Btw the reason no other awakened or mage ascended to a spirit is because they typically have one or two spirits following them around where it’s a symbiotic relationship, essentially a deal, where the person gets control over the element, while the spirits powers grow. The difference is literally all spirits listen to Yuder and obey him as long as he as the power to direct them.

In the 1st timeline Yuder found out about the world ending much earlier, along with the Pethuamet’s incident (he didn’t make it in time, although the cavalry got there faster) due to the spirits. This doesn’t actually mean anything and he’s even more stressed (with less evidence but more likelihood in the world ending) and kishiar is not helping. And Yuder’s own pending immortality is going to suck ass in a world that’s ended. The spirits being the mischievous little fuckers that they are tell Yuder to just take kishiar’s soul bcs he likes him and he’ll probably be less annoying. Yuder is understandably distressed by this and tired of the spirits bs, but does agree when the spirits tell him he can just let kishiar live out his natural life span then take his soul, and it’ll be even easier considering their connection and many “deals”.

So things (unsurprisingly) go to shit when Kishiar severs their connection. Yuder at that point had been pretty well into integrating into the world, and having a part of the (eventual) spirit king’s soul ripped out made everything that much worse.

If you’re wondering about how exactly Kishiar had enough power to do that, think a pebble causing an avalanche, with Yuder’s soul being the pebble, the end of the world being the avalanche.

Yuder then goes though canon 1st timeline events with the main difference being Yuder refusing to use his powers, rather than being unable to. ( he feels he caused the end, for no real reason)

I don’t know how much changes other than Yuder’s emotional state (it’s 10x worse) and how much he tries to push Kishiar away bcs he doesn’t want to force him into selling his soul away ( We all know Kishiar would be all in as long as it’s his precious Yuder 😊)

Anyways he and Emon also have existential crises together too now.

#turning by kuyu #turning novel #turning manhwa #turning bl #yuder aile #kishiar la orr #Spirit King! Yuder #turning au #FUCK there are so many spelling mistakes #Screw autocorrect #it changed fae to far like 5 times #I’m never posting without double checking ever again #this was just embarrassing

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saratinz · 2 years ago

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Maneater (Chapter 4)

pairing ➩ Ex!Bucky Barnes x Promiscuous!Reader (College AU)

series warnings ➩ drinking, asshole!Bucky, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, love triangle, smut, slut shaming, cursing

chapter warnings ➩ drinking, cursing, slut shaming, smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk

synopsis ➩ Y/n fucks up, again.

word count ➩ 1.9k

a/n ➩ this is the first time I have ever written smut

How could he not have told you that he was a virgin? Oh my god, you just fucked a virgin. It was his first time and you wouldn’t have been so rough if you would have known. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. “Y/n?” Steve interrupts your breakdown.

“I have to go.” He doesn’t stop you as you get dressed and practically run out of his apartment. When you get outside, you almost vomit. How could he do that to you?

After going on a fifteen minute walk heading in no particular direction, you spot your escape, Thor’s frat. You make your way inside, smiling as you hear the comforting sound of horrible pop music and drunken shenanigans. A few minutes and five shots later, you spot Thor and wave him over. He stops talking to his friend and makes his way to you. With very minimal thinking, you grab his neck and push your tongue into his mouth. He gladly reciprocates, and for a single uninterrupted minute, you forget about everything. It’s pure bliss, that is until you hear a familiar voice, Bucky, and feel as he drags you down the frat’s hallway.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, James?” You ask, poison laced in your tone. Maybe kissing Thor wasn’t the best way to deal with your uncomfortable emotions, but it was helping goddamnit. He leads you to an empty room, and makes quick work of closing and locking the door.

“No, what the fuck do you think you’re doing, Y/n? You are just so frustrating. You can’t just run away and sabotage something because you’re bored or scared or whatever.”

“He didn’t tell me he was a virgin. He waited until after the sex to tell me that very vital piece of information. I’m freaking the fuck out.”

“God, so you found the best guy on campus and couldn’t handle that he waited for someone he really liked. And for some odd reason it’s you, so you make a scene, doing what you always do.”

“And what’s that, James?”

“You go and whore yourself out.” You gasp out of pure shock. Unfortunately, the degradation goes straight to your core. You sick fuck. Why must the most fucked up insults make you horny? Whatever, you’re still furious.

“Says the biggest whore of them all, are you forgetting what you did to me?”

“Oh boohoo, poor Y/n, still heartbroken after two years of drinking and fucking everyone.” This man has got a real big ego. All you want to do right now is crush it. You want to crush him.

“Oh you really think I have feelings for you. You’re truly self-obsessed, holy shit.”

“No, sweetie, I just know things. I know that you don’t deserve Steve, you are a piece of trash that everybody is fucking tired of.” He starts walking towards you, and he doesn’t stop until your back hits the locked door. His hands rest on the piece of wood, on either side of your head. Are you really getting off on this? “People like us, we deserve the worst. At least I know that though, you’re out here thinking you’re worth something. You’re just a…” You cut him off by putting your lips on his. It takes a couple seconds before he starts to kiss you back. Once he gets going though, he is as rough with his mouth as he was with his words. Without even a simple warning, he sticks his tongue down your throat. After another brief period of bliss, he removes himself from your mouth and pushes up the hem of your dress, revealing your lacy thong. You let out a whimper as he moves his head down to your neck, sucking bruises into your soft skin.

“Fuck, what are you, 15? Steve’s gonna see these.”

“Are you really thinking about him, right now.” He asks possessively. “Whatever, let Steve know the real you. The pathetic slut that everyone, except him, sees. I’ll make sure he notices how you walk all funny, make sure he knows someone fucked you better than he ever could. Because whores like you are never satisfied with what the nice guy has to offer. No, you need to be ruined to feel good.” You don’t even bother talking back, knowing the more you fight, the longer it will take to get him inside you. And right now, you need him. “You want me to fuck you nice and hard?” He asks, anxiously waiting for your consent.

“Yes, Bucky.” As soon as you say it, he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you up. You finally reconnected your lips in a passionate fight for control. He wins of course, but you gave it a shot. He moves backwards toward the bed, never disengaging from your swollen lips. When his knees hit the frame, he sits down with you straddling him. His hands land on your hips, grinding you against his clothed erection. He grasps your dress once more, pulling it all the way over your head this time.

“Fuck, forgot about these perfect tits of yours.” You’re a moaning mess as he leans down to suck more hickeys, this time on your chest. “You remember who you belong to, baby?” You don’t plan on playing his game, but he forces out a ‘you , only you’ when he slaps your thigh harshly. “That’s right sweetheart, you can go out and hook up with any random douchebag, but you will always be my perfect little slut.” You are soaked from his filthy words. Finally, he takes his shirt off and allows you to caress his muscles that you missed so dearly. He rips your panties apart forcefully, and lifts you up to turn around and toss you on your back. His hands pull you forward until you’re right at the edge of the bed. You almost die seeing him get on his knees for you. He pushes two fingers inside your starving cunt. You moan loudly as he sets a brutal pace, brushing your g-spot with ease every single time he enters you.

“Fuck you’re dripping. What a fucking whore. Getting this wet from me calling you all sorts of nasty names.” He states, almost impressed with himself for getting you ready so fast. “You’re going to be a good girl and cum on my tongue.” With that, he licks your clit. His mouth brings you to heaven, just like how it used to. He’s giving you the best head of your life, but you’re so needy all you can think about is his cock.

“Buck, wan’ you inside me,” You whine. He sucks on your clit one last time before he disconnects his tongue and fingers. He stares directly into your eyes as he puts his digits in his mouth and sucks off all of your juices. He looks like an Adonis as he stands above you. In a matter of seconds his joggers and boxers are off, and you’re flipped onto your hands and knees.

He slides his length along your slit. “I told you to cum on my tongue, didn’t I?” He slaps his hand across your ass. You cry out, mumbling incoherently, waiting to get spanked, used, or anything Bucky wants, because right now, in this moment, you are truly his. Finally, he enters your tight heat. You don’t even realize you’re crying because your pussy is filled to the brim. Once you adjust to his length, the man behind you shows no mercy, pushing in and out of you like his life depends on it. You’re screaming from the penetration, so Bucky grabs your throat. “You don’t want the party to hear your pathetic cries, do you?” You tighten around him. “Oh my god, you do. You want everyone to know you belong to me, that this sweet cunt is getting ruined by the guy you hate, don’t ya?”

“Please, can I cum?” You’re sobbing and so weak you fall to your elbows.

“Yes, sweetheart, go all dumb on my dick.” You let yourself release, the intensity of your orgasm is like nothing you have ever felt before. “That’s right baby, yep, cum on my cock.” He keeps fucking you, the overstimulation delicious and brutal at the same time. “I’m gonna fuck you brainless.” You cry out and turn onto your back when he pulls out. Quickly, you find yourself in the same position as you were with Steve, just half an hour ago. Except this time you’re not in control, Bucky is ruthlessly rutting his hips into yours from below. Your hands find purchase on his chest.

“Are you gonna let me fill you up?” All you can manage is a pathetic ‘yes’ , he grunts at your response. “Alright doll, I’m so close.”

“Cum f’me Bucky.” You push him over the edge, and he paints your walls white. You can’t even pull him out of you before you collapse on top of him, heavy breathing apparent as tears start to fill your eyes once again.

“It’s okay doll, I’m right here.” He holds you tight, not daring to let go and leave you again.

-----------------------------------------------------------

What the fuck did you just do? Your breathing heavy beside the man who took your virginity all those years ago. Suddenly, you feel very sober. “This was a mistake.”

“Want me to walk you home?”

“Umm, sure.” After a few minutes, the two of you are dressed and ready to go on the most awkward trek that either of you would ever experience. You two walk in complete silence, hoping that saying nothing will say everything to the other. Hoping the quiet will tell the other that this was a one time thing, and it will never ever happen again. You need to clear some things up though.

“Y’know, I don’t think I deserve Steve either, but he likes me. Im not going to keep fucking myself over. I may not be perfect, I may step on a few toes, but at least I try. I’m a decent person, you’re just an asshole. You really got what you deserved with Natasha.” He stays silent.

After an agonizing five minutes, you finally find yourselves at home. Without a single word, you walk into Steve’s room.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, I really fucked up. Can you please give me another chance?”

“It’s okay, Steve. I overreacted. Just the idea of ruining your first time was something I couldn’t deal with at first.”

“Just so you know, I will never regret what we did. I really like you,” he lowers his voice, “And I really like having sex with you.” You couldn’t be more relieved. Knowing how he feels was exactly what you needed.

“Steve I have to tell you something.” You are prepared to give him the news of your shameful night with his best friend, but you can’t bring yourself to say it, because you know it will break his heart. “I really like you too.” He envelopes you in his arms, bringing warmth to what has recently felt like a cold, dead heart. You pull back slightly, getting on your tip-toes to give him a peck. You figure the guilt will slowly fade, and you allow yourself to lay beside the man you just withheld the truth from.

Previous chapter / Masterlist / Next chapter

taglist:

@cjand10

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #college au #enemies to lovers #exes to lovers #love triangle #angst #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut

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this-world-of-beautiful-monsters · 1 year ago

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violently smashing my two major fandoms with an F together as a form of procrastination

A question for the ages: WHICH Avatar character matches up with WHICH Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle one and WHY the fuck should anyone (besides me) care? We'll answer at least one of those questions for you tonight, dear viewers!!!!

First up

Neteyam - Leo

Eldest son, blue theme (like I could say this for all the Sullys, but shush), can do no wrong except when one of the siblings stubs a toe and then the Guilt, daddy's favorite solider who's also a huge dork (like we don't see a lot of evidence of this in canon for Neteyam but let me have this), Neteyam's Untimely End vs Leo getting treated as such a punching bag by each TMNT iteration that throwing him through a goddamn window is an established franchise staple by now.

Kiri - Donnie

A case can be made for April-Kiri parallels (particularly for psychic powers re 2012 April, my beloved, and dead mom syndrome) and also Karai-Kiri (for dead mom syndrome, how often I've mixed up their fucking names while writing), but Kiri-Donnie fits the siblings theme, so there. They're tech nerd-nature nerd solidarity, autistic Entities of unparalleled death and destruction, happy to destroy government property, younger siblings pretending to be above the Chaos while very much not, and in desperate need of a nap and a stiff drink.

Lo'ak - Raph

Rage issues. Daddy issues. Big brother issues. Relatively smol and Keenly aware of that fact. Adored by the (smart) fans, cursed by Eywa/God. Makes strong bonds with animal fwends and also collects traumatic experiences like magnets collect nails. 100% either in a fistfight or sobbing into his pillow rn. In a family living at the bottom of a fucking sewer and/or on the run from the government, still manages to feel like an odd one out. Someone needs to introduce Lo'ak to emo music, it would fuck him up so much /pos.

Tuk - Mikey

Youngest and most excitable sibling, heart of gold and jaws of steel. Optimism that remains in the face of innocence slowly being shaved away by Events. Hates being left out or left behind, committed to various Schemes and Plans with historically mixed outcomes. Has definitely either killed a man or will do so as soon as the opportunity presents itself.

Spider - Karai and April

Spider's kind of an unholy amalgamation of April's Token Human We've Shared Traumatic Experiences With journey and Karai's At Odds With Creepy Undead Father Figure And Complex Relationship With Less Creepy Father Figure (see below) arcs. Basically part of my ongoing psyops plans to Feminize That Boy (don't worry Karai-Kiri and April-Kiri parallels, I still love you). Also, Leorai/Apritello and Speteyam/Spiri (mix and match at will) have exciting interspecies and/or vaguely incestous vibes we should all strive for in our weird fanfics.

Jake - Splinter/Hamato Yoshi

Tired dads trying their best and just so happening to raise The Kids as soldiers-warriors along the way. Exciting and confusing relationships with the concept of this thing you call "death." Shameless species hoppers, even though Jake did it on purpose while TMNT writers in various iterations have to come up with increasingly more convoluted ways for it to happen to Yoshi against his will. Is not afraid of violence, especially when it comes to their homoerotically homicidal relationship with

Quaritch - Shredder

Big Bad of the story, or at least the one everybody pays attention to. The Bitch Who Refuses To Die. Unhealthy, possessive, genuinely quite creepy (/pos) obsession with sort-of-kid who ended up in his care through Unfortunate Means. Will destroy everything he remotely cares about and sit in the ashes with surprised Pichaku face before finding someone to blame. Refuses to let go of a fucking grudge, be it with aforementioned homoerotic-homicide buddy or various children.

Neytiri

Technically the best Neytiri parallel in terms of family relationships would be Tang Shen, Splinter's wife and the pseudo/actual (depending on the iteration) mother of his children. However, Tang Shen has an unfortunate history of being Dead Girled and Ghost-Momed in a way that puts her more in common with Grace or Tom Sully (rip). Still, Neytiri has a lot in common with the vengeful demon ghost version of Tang Shen that exists primarily in my head.

BONUS

Payakan - Casey Jones

Outcast from society, defender of the weak, wanted by the authorities. Combines genuinely passionate belief in justice/revenge with an equally genuine talent for wanton violence and destruction. Has an interspecies bromance with Lo'ak/Raph that puts Achilles and Patrocles to shame. Someone definitely needs to introduce Payakan to emo music, too, not to mention death metal--he'd start a band to put those Little Mermaid fuckers to shame.

Questions? Comments? Concerns? Arguments? (you're all wrong btw) Only know me from one of these fandoms and have no idea what the hell I'm taking about? Hit me up in the reblogs!

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drpeppertummy · 1 year ago

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this is a little all over the place but What Ever sunny pleasant evening for once

[stuffing, tummy rubs]

Sunny was the last to arrive at Laurie's house. Everybody else was already happily chatting and snacking and laughing when he came trudging through the door, shivering and drenched to the bone after a long walk through the pouring rain. He was over an hour late. He hadn't intended to be, but he'd had a hard time getting himself together that day. Nothing seemed to be going right. His sleep had been repeatedly been interrupted by nightmares, leaving him feeling tired and on edge. He'd tripped and banged up his face on the arm of the couch, and he now had a big bruise blooming under his eye. The pasta dish he'd spent all morning working on was ruined by a faulty pepper shaker, and he'd had to not only start over from scratch, but run out and buy new ingredients as well. He'd spent a fair amount of time during this whole process crying in exhausted frustration, and his eyes were still red and sore. And then, after all that, he'd gotten rained on on his way over. He was bitterly aware that he'd likely still be dry if he hadn't screwed up the pasta.

"Oh, jeez, Sunny, you're soaking wet," exclaimed Laurie. Gray relieved him of the heavy dish he'd been carrying, and Laurie wrapped him in a towel. Realizing it wasn't going to do much good, she pulled him into her room and made him swap his wet clothes for a cozy oversized sweater and the smallest pair of pajama pants she could dig up. The two of them were nowhere near the same pants size, but with the help of the drawstring he was able to make it work.

As he emerged from the bathroom in his new outfit, Laurie ambushed him with the towel once more, this time vigorously ruffling his hair with it. A smile cracked through his grumpy face, and he hugged her tightly. She gladly returned the hug, lifting him slightly off the floor as she did, and then the two returned to the living room together.

"Hey, what took you, anyway? We were starting to think you got lost," said Carrie, throwing an arm around Sunny.

"I was busy fuckin' everything up," he said glumly, though his mood was already better than it had been when he'd arrived.

"Aw, shoot," she said, pulling him into a hug. "Well, hey, you made it, right?"

"Yeah, and now we can finally eat," said Dave. Sunny's belly rumbled loudly in response, and Carrie laughed and gave it a friendly pat. He hadn't realized it, but he'd barely eaten all day, having been too busy running around getting the pasta together.

In addition to the pasta, Gray had made enchiladas and Wendy had made her famous chicken noodle soup. It was an odd combination, along with the random assortment of snacks and appetizers everyone else had made, but everything looked and smelled fantastic. Sunny, who was still chilly from his long trek through the freezing wind and rain, was eager to get some hot food into his hungry stomach.

"So, what's the story with your face?" Carrie tapped her cheek as the group finally sat down to eat.

"I tripped," he confessed.

"Looks like it hurts," remarked Wendy. He nodded.

"I'm being very brave about it." He scooped a big steaming bite of enchilada into his mouth. Smiling, Laurie leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on the bruise, and he felt his cheeks go pink.

The group of friends talked and laughed happily over dinner, and it wasn't long before Sunny's plate was empty and his belly was full. He leaned back in his seat with a soft sigh, resting a hand on his rounded tummy. He finally felt like he'd shaken the cold away, the hot meal having warmed him up from the inside out, and he felt worlds better now that he'd eaten.

"You're lookin' pretty stuffed," teased Laurie, reaching out and patting his belly. "You didn't save room for cake, did you?" He perked up instantly, and she laughed. Laurie was well-known for her killer chocolate cake, and Sunny was perhaps one of its biggest fans.

Together, they all cleaned up dinner. Sunny rolled up the sleeves of Laurie's sweater--they were long enough to cover his hands, which he liked--and washed the dishes, his full tummy pressing against the counter as he did. It didn't take long for everything to be cleaned up, and Laurie retrieved the cake from the fridge. Gray wrapped an arm around Sunny while they waited their turn to get some, and Sunny gladly leaned into the embrace, hugging Gray and resting his head against his chest.

With the size of the cake, it was nearly impossible not to cut a big piece, and Sunny sat down with a slice that he wasn't sure he'd be able to finish. His friends were full, but he was absolutely stuffed. Still, he couldn't pass up dessert. The cake was heavenly, and he found it easy to eat even on a full belly. It wasn't long, in fact, before the entire slice was gone. He was a little surprised at himself for finishing it, but he wasn't surprised at how tight his stomach felt. It didn't ache--as a matter of fact, it felt pretty good--but he didn't think he could eat another bite if his life depended on it.

"Bet those pants fit now," said Laurie, giving Sunny's belly a gentle rub. She was right. He'd pulled the drawstring of the large pajama pants as tight as he could to fit his narrow waist, and now, as a matter of fact, it was just a little too snug. Shamelessly, he reached under the oversized sweater and loosened it a little. He sighed contentedly, resting both sleeve-covered hands on his belly, and Laurie laughed.

"You're adorable, Sunny," she giggled, and he flashed her a big toothy smile.

They remained at the table for a little while, chatting and digesting, and then the friends retreated to the living room and crowded onto the couch together. Sunny found himself happily nestled between Gray and Laurie. It was a tight squeeze, and the pressure against his bloated sides coaxed a small burp out of him. He yawned and leaned against Gray, who wrapped his arms around him and rested his big warm hands on his belly. Sunny melted under the comforting touch. He didn't want to fall asleep on his friends, but he was absolutely exhausted after losing so much sleep the night before. Looking up, though, he saw that Gray was also beginning to doze off. He smiled and hugged him. Gray was famous among his friends for falling asleep after a big meal, and Sunny was always glad to join him. He yawned again, and his tummy gurgled softly as it expanded under Gray's hands.

As the evening went on, Wendy, Dave, and Carrie made their way out one by one. Gray remained, having fallen fast asleep on the couch, and Sunny kept his place snuggled up against him. Laurie, perfectly fine with the two of them staying the night, rested herself against Sunny, sandwiching him snugly between his two larger friends. He grunted softly as he adjusted himself, trying to get comfortable. His belly felt extra tight under the new weight, but it wasn't unpleasant, and the heavy warmth of Laurie pressed against him was comforting. She rested one hand on his tummy, rubbing gently, and he smiled sleepily at her.

"I can't believe you ate that whole giant-ass piece of cake," she said quietly, giving his belly a gentle pat. Despite having some time to settle, it was still tight as a drum.

"Your fault," he whispered. "You make it so good." Laurie giggled and kissed him on the cheek.

"Still! On top of that big dinner," she whispered. "Doesn't your belly hurt?" He shook his head.

"Just full," he yawned, covering his mouth.

"I'll say." She continued rubbing his belly. Soothed by the gentle sensation, Sunny let his eyes fall shut, and before he knew it, he was happily snoring away.

#writing #belly kink #tummy kink #stuffing #stuffed belly #aware that the description does not match the preview whatsoever its fine he lives #xsunnyx #xlauriex #xgraythehumanx #xcarriex #xwendyx #xdavethehumanx

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