#tossing these story ideas out into the wild

[raycatz]

totk meets LU ideas that plague me (spoilers for totk. vague spoilers, but spoilers all the same.)

Wild is returned to his own time mid-LU for totk.

Wild is called back to the chain immediately after completing the Dragon Tears questline. Everyone's glad to see him, though with increasing concern when they get a closer look. He's older. His arm. Legend doesn't know why there are tears in Wild's eyes. Wild demands Sky let him see the master sword and of course Sky passes it to him. The angst and confusion when Wild asks it to send him back. When, how far, why, what has happened?

Any of the chain being warped to the Depths, dealing with THE HORRORS and/or coming into contact with gloom, and reuniting with Wild, dressed in costume and piloting some insane vehicle. Sunny rice porridge picnic in the Depths.

Wild explaining how much time has passed for him since he's left them, his arm, Zelda, the gloom.

Wild being hit by the gloom and losing his hearts and stamina at the start of totk having some kind of effect on him beyond his arm. What if Rauru wasn't able to remove all of the corruption? Does Wild have constant fatigue from the gloom sickness? Is it like Ashitaka's curse in Princess Mononoke and it's killing him slowly. He's dying, but there is some hope in that collecting all the Lights of Blessing will purify him or at least give him more time. It would put the pressure of a time limit on the story similar to Majora's Mask.

Time being warped to Korok Forest before Wild's helped them and seeing the Deku Tree and children of the forest like that.

Hyrule running from gloom spawn. There's already so much symbolism around this lad and the color red, hands, and the eyes of ganon. It's a perfect fit for stories with him. (meanwhile Wind points and starts swearing about Floor Masters xD)

The chain move through a portal in Sky's era to Wild's, bringing along Sky's lofting with them. They step from a sky island surround by blues skies to red. (end of totk maybe??? There was a meet-Wild fic where the chain witness Wild's battle with Dark Beast that was fantastic (though I don't remember what it's called,,,) A similar fic for totk would be fun.)

Wild and Legend trying to make sense of the timeline and giving up on finding a conclusion. If the Imprisoning War (totk) happened somewhere in the timeline of the earlier games, and Legend learns he's been fighting a projection all this time and the source of the evil is tucked somewhere deep beneath Hyrule, out of reach, he'd go mad. Knowing Hyrule had to fight ganon after him is bad enough. Knowing that what he's fought hasn't been the true source of the evil the entire time, and it's still out there? Yeah, no. He'd never be able to rest if he acknowledged this. If the Imprisoning War (totk) happens way down the line on the kind of separate conjoined timeline botw has, then it's not Legend's problem. Still, it could be interesting if he's having a bad time trying to make sense of it all.

[ridgystacis]

that single tweet from johnny yong bosch is about to ruin my life until april cause before they had my curiosity but now they have my attention

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: News Crashing

Poly!TaskForce 141 x Omega!Reader

The Omega Pack Plan Masterlist

Summary: A change in procedure around base causes you to spiral as your world comes crashing down. There's only one way out of this and it starts with telling the truth.

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety, Existentialism, Misogyny, Dismissive Attitudes, Angst, Rage

Mentions of: Medication,

A/N: Honestly, I'd been inspired by a few series (Standard Emergency Protocol and Pantry Solutions) I've read those and it caused me to want to write my own ABO COD AU, so I started this as a sort of funny fic awhile ago. I'm haven't entirely plotted out the whole story, but I have some ideas for the first few chapters. I was finally inspired to finish and post it because @cringeycookies liked the snippet I posted in a wip tag game. So thanks to everyone who inspired me, and a special thank you to @penelopepine for helping me with the dialogue and Price's reaction as I try to begin writing for them.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the nurse responds, "we're no longer authorized to refill suppressants of any kinds for any purpose." With a push of the empty orange pill bottle back across the counter in your direction, she offers you an ugly forced smile.

"Is there really nothing we can do?!" You complain incredulously, "Nothing at all? What am I supposed to do with this?!" Taking the emptied bottle into your hands, you stare at the nurse with widened eyes and a wild look.

"There is no 'we'..." she rolls her eyes in response, focus returning to the papers before her. "But if you insist, you can always bring it up with your CO, or the Base Commander." She scribbles something out on the page, but you can hardly focus when your world is virtually crumbling apart around you. "Now if you don't mind, some of us actually have work to do around here."

Still stunned, you can't help the way your breathing picks up as your heart begins to race. About a month ago now there was a base-wide meeting where they'd finally cracked down and implemented a new program the government is trying out: OPP. The Omega Pack Plan. While it's uncommon for Omegas to even be recruited into the military to begin with, such a thing does exist. Regardless, the Base Commander gathered everyone in the Auditorium for a presentation to talk about the new program and how the army would implement it into the troops. Luckily, considering you're on an elite Task Force, it doesn't apply to you. At least... it didn't.

"What the hell is this?!" You yell, tossing the orange bottle in his direction.

He'd heard the stomps all the way down the hall and smelled you coming, so he's neither surprised by your appearance, nor startled by the toss of the bottle. John swiftly catches it in his hand as he looks up at you. "What?" He inquires, finally glancing down to examine what he's caught. "A pill bottle?"

"Captain, it's empty! They won't refill it- I can-"

A groan tumbles past his lips as he drags a hand down his beard. "Look, Panther-" referring to you by your callsign, interesting move. "There's nothing I can do, it's over my head now. I wish I could do something, but I can't." Sitting back in his leather chair, Price places the bottle on the desk; a faint rap of the plastic hitting the wood is the only sound between you momentarily before you hurriedly shut the door.

Panic begins to flood your system as you're not sure how to handle this. It's your turn to freak out. You know how this goes, you know the story now; ever since they'd implemented and dispersed the Omegas into the troops, they'd started implementing them into the Task Forces, and now they have to do so with the One Four One. Fingers curling in and out of shapes as you try to process your next move, you speak before you can even begin to plan what you're going to tell him.

"I- I'm- I..." You're pacing his office now, the heavy gaze of your Captain upon you as you try to prevent yourself from hyperventilating. The thing is, you're usually good with pressure- really good. It's your job to be good. It's just... this is different. This is your life, your livelihood at stake, the livelihood of all your future generations to come.

A sigh resounds throughout the office before you hear the low timbre of his voice. "Dove," he calls out with a gentle tone, "I want you to take a deep breath for me. Alright?" With the calm and even sound of your Captain's voice and the assured look on his face, you comply. Exhaling the last of your breath, you close your eyes and focus in on the deep intake of air through your nose. With the parting of your lips you slowly release it before giving yourself a moment.

When you open your eyes he gestures to the seat before his desk, though you know he won't take offense if you decline. Hesitant, one hand finds its way to the other, wrapping around your arm as you listen to him speak. "Now, can you explain what has you in this state? I assure you that there's nothing that can't be dealt with." You want to trust him, you know him--John Price--your Captain. He's always had your back, always made sure you felt comfortable in the Taskforce, always made an effort to check on you after things got rough.

You nod. Licking your lips, you search his blue eyes as you tentatively take the seat across him.

"Whatever it is, we'll deal with it, alright? I can guarantee you that unless you're trying to tell me you're an Omega, nothing you say is going to shock me that warrants the amount of panic you're putting yourself through," Price chuckles. He's obviously joking, trying to break the tension with humor. Lips drawn upward into a small smile, the Captain stares at you expectantly.

"What if I am?" You whisper, eyes unable to tear from his visage as you try and gauge his reaction. Unexpectedly, silence fills the space between you and feels deafening in the small space. The growing comfort of his office these couple of months now feels like a cage you're forced to stay in, under watch, as you stare down your superior on the brink of a battle to the death. And that's what you do. His blue eyes bore into yours, skeptically shifting between your left and right as he seems to try and get a read on you.

All of the sudden you jump at the smack of his hands hitting the desk in front of him. He laughs at you.

He's laughing at you.

And you're sitting there with your guts spilled out, dread eating away at the pit in your stomach... and he's laughing. It feels like forever is passing you by as you stare at him in shock, this moment between the two of you frozen in time as nothing else persists.

"I understand what this was now," Price explains, still chuckling to himself as he shakes his head. There's a warm smile on his face that feels eerie considering the dire context of the situation at hand. "You got me! I fully believed you for a second there, too."

Eyebrows furrowing in dark realization, you can't help but stare at him wildly. "Wha-" You begin to question him and his line of thinking, but he cuts you off.

"This was all a prank, right? The bottle, the hysterics- you really outdid yourself, Sergeant." Leaning back in his chair, he props his ankle up on his other knee. "Because let me tell you, this was good. Better than anything Soap's cooked up in awhile. Did you come up with it yourself?" There's a cheeky grin on his lips. "Ah, I know you did."

Lips opening and closing like a fish out of water, you sit in the armchair across from him pale with a dazed look across your face. He doesn't actually think that this was...

"Well, with your little triumph in your pocket, I say we get back to work, yeah? I've got some new leads from MI6 that've just popped in." With that, the man stands from his desk and rounds it. "Garrick should be back around Tea. I'll see you in the Command Station then," he informs you. It's then that he passes by, a genial clap on your shoulder while he's at it.

Left stunned in silence, you can't help but grit your teeth, consequentially pronouncing your jaw as anger ebbs through your bloodstream. Breath getting heavier, you can't help but loathe the meeting tonight. Your Captain might be satisfied with the conversation, but all you feel is discouraged. He's abandoned you, left you alone in his office with a humiliating sense of betrayal and shattered trust. Almost like you hadn't just told him your biggest secret at all.

Punching the standard heavy punching bag hanging in front of you, you grunt, ignoring the pain that gnaws at your knuckles underneath the reusable hand wraps. Sweat builds on your brow as you continue to unleash your pent up anger on the gym’s equipment. How could he?! When had you ever pulled anything even similar to this? Never! And the fact that you’ve only been on the team for a handful of months only exacerbates the abandonment you’re feeling right now. He’s your Captain! Regardless of your feelings or the situation at hand, isn’t he supposed to be there for you? He’d promised from the get go to help you with whatever you need, and now the one time you go to him for aid it backfires in your face and leaves you without any sort of solution going forward aside from straight up telling the whole team the flat out truth, and God forbid! You can’t even begin to fathom how that’d go.

A pent up and frustrated yell almost akin to something of a growl emanates from you as you tear into another round of swift jabs and punches. Regardless of the situation at hand, you’ve been trying to build up your upper body’s strength and letting out the anger you’d accumulated over this morning’s events seemed like a perfect opportunity to let loose.

The stretches and treadmill routine didn’t take a lot out of you, but the weights, and now the punching bag definitely is starting to take its toll. Sweat beads at your forehead in rivulets that drip down the sides of your neck, down your scalp past your neck and between your shoulder blades. Tank top soaked in sweat, you breathe hard as your heart pumps rapidly in your chest. You would’ve wound up here at some point or another tonight, but the Captain’s discourteous response certainly led to an earlier workout time.

While others sparsely litter the gym’s floor, you pay them no mind and vice versa. It’s not uncommon for soldiers to be found blowing off steam or aiming to beat their highest reps on the weights. Yet, this gym is reserved for higher standing members of the Force, the gym on the far side of the base where there are less people, offices, and considering the regular army men train in the bigger gym closer to their quarters, it’s mostly other higher ranked officers in here.

“Captain’s lookin’ for ya,” Markowski, another Sergeant that you’d come to befriend on base announces from the doorway, having poked his head in after leaving a few minutes earlier. He belongs to a different Task Force.

A groan tumbles out of you as you realize it’s already that time. Just as the door clicks shut, your phone chimes loudly with the alarm you’d set earlier going off. A few quick swipes of your fingers, you turn the alarm off and unlock the device, seeing a number of messages flood your notifications.

Kyle: You hear they’ve bumped up the timeline? 😯

Johnny: “ https://Tiktok/Shattered.Rat567 ” Had me rollin’ 🤣👏🏻 Gotta check it, Bonnie

Simon: You coming to the meeting or not? 🤨

Johnny: Where r u? You’re usually first here 👀 Cap’s getting peeved, watch out

Not looking forward to the inevitable mess of a meeting before you, you don’t bother rushing to join the men. With a wash of your face in the women’s locker room, a speedy bathroom break, and a grab of the items you’d brought with you, you’re heading for the Command Station.

With the time Price set the meeting, you won't get to eat dinner till afterward. You'd be lying if you said you weren't annoyed by this entire situation, your agitation from neglecting your hunger earlier has certainly come to bite you in the backside.

While you don’t have time to respond to their texts, having set the alarm with only enough time to get back to your team’s Command ‘station’ albeit more like your headquarters before heading out. Speed-walking through the orderly halls with a haste perfectly common around here, you navigate with a well practiced knowledge. Though you’ve only been here coming up on six months soon, you’re well acquainted with this part of the base.

Rounding the corner, you’re in the hall, close. Yet, the worry of being late lingers in the back of your mind and adds another layer of annoyance on top of your residual anger buried deep down from this morning’s situation. You’d inevitably come up with your solution. It’s not one you like… but it’s the only logical option. Another turn and you’re striding into the big garage-like room.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Sergeant,” Price calls out to you. Lifting his eyes from the map laid out across your station's table, he glares in your direction.

“What took you so long?” Soap snaps, his brows slightly furrowed as he stares at you from the opposite side of the table, hands lazily wrapped around his vest’s straps.

A look at your watch tells you that you’re not even late, the meeting doesn’t officially start for another minute! But you are usually waiting on them. He’s got you there.

“Yeah, you’re usually the first one here. It’s not like you,” Gaz whispers under his breath as you sidle up alongside Ghost, Gaz standing diagonal to you right beside Price at the head of the table.

“Focus,” Ghost orders the men, his hands tucked in his hoodie’s pocket. You don’t fail to notice the way he subtly takes a step further away from you as soon as they start talking again. Price goes back to talking plans as Gaz is questioning the circumstances of the information the Captain had acquired earlier when he’d had to leave the office.

“Which is exactly why-”

A heavy exhale on your behalf leaves the men frozen as their eyes drift back to you. “Do you have something you’d like to say, Panther?” The Captain questions. Jaw clenched, you tear your eyes from the map they’d settled on.

“We’ve got a big problem,” you announce, cutting off the Captain as you finally raise your gaze to meet Price’s slightly widened blue eyes.

“Well, if you see something that needs changin’ then let’s hear it,” he responds. A ‘hmph’ follows as he crosses his arms over his chest and sits his weight back onto his heels.

“It’s not about the op,” you correct him. Tilting your head side to side you attempt to crack the kinks in your neck while standing a little straighter to appear more engaged and serious.

“And it’s more important than this? What we’re doin’ right now?” Soap questions, his hands dropping to rest on the table as he looms over it, eyeing you with frustration obvious in his irises.

“What is it?” Gaz asks, a quirk of his eyebrow garnering your attention for a split-second. He’s genuinely asking, and there doesn’t seem to be a hostility in his scent as he turns his attention to you. Then there’s Ghost, who you don’t even need to look at to feel his heavy gaze on you, waiting expectantly.

“Actually, it is,” you argue with Soap, anger beginning to boil in your belly, the frustration and angst having been left to simmer all afternoon. “I can’t believe you didn’t take me seriously when I came to you earlier,” you turn your anger on Price. He looks taken aback by the outburst, something you’re not known for.

“Dove,” he calls calmly, hands out in an attempt to pacify.

“Don’t-” you bark, starting to raise your voice without realizing it. “I came to you in confidance! Trusting you when you said you’d be there to help me if I ever needed it! How could you?” Gritting your teeth, you don’t realize how hard you’re breathing as your chest heaves with anger.

“Woah, woah-” Gaz sputters, “What-” holding his hands out to try and diffuse the argument.

“I let myself be vulnerable-” You continue to shout.

“Isn’t this something that shoul-” Soap attempts to dissuade, backing down as he puts his hands out.

“-and tell you the truth, and-” you’re lunging for him across the table. You’re held back by a massive hand on your shoulder. “You laugh in my face?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You're suddenly pulled back, off your feet, and shoved into a metal chair that'd been nearby. Your Lieutenant is hovering over you, his cold eyes now tinged with a spark of anger as they bore into you scrutinizingly. There's the sound of commotion behind him, multiple voices overlapping, yet you can't see anything with that utter giant in front of you!

“Does anyone wanna explain what the bloody hell is goin’ on here?” Ghost snaps. It's only then when the man steps aside that you can see where everyone is. With both of you in your respective corners, you simply glare at the Captain from over your crossed arms out in front of you.

“Are you bleedin’ kidding me, ya Scally?” Price grunts as he shrugs Gaz’ hand off his shoulder. “You’re still on about it! When w-"

"That doesn't explain what happened, Cap," Gaz interrupts, stopping him from going off and getting them nowhere.

He groans, running a hand over his face once more before composing himself. Everyone waits for an explanation—you too—he’d been the first to speak, and you’re curious to hear what he comes up with. “She came into my office, bloody cryin’, tossing me a pill bottle, muttering about, saying she’s a-”

You don’t dare let him finish, not wanting him to be the one to finally say it, exposing your truth to the team. "Omega. I’m an Omega, ” you finish his sentence. While you’re scared to meet their faces, you take a deep breath and force yourself to do so.

"Christ," Price curses, fingers coming up to pinch the skin between his brows as he hangs his head.

Ghost's stoicism is nothing unordinary, and in fact, is somewhat a comfort considering you'd expected nothing less from him.

Gaz looks stunned for a moment, eyes flitting about the other’s faces before the serious look on his face morphs. Lips slowly drawing upward, you shouldn’t be surprised when he starts laughing. "Yeah right," Garrick teases, "and I'm actually the Prime Minister."

Yet, it's not just him. The uproarious laughter from your right only adds fuel to the already burning flame as the two other Sergeants laugh like idiots. All as if it's some poor joke with no consequences to anyone's life, and yet... it's the truth. At the end of the day, it doesn't change anything. At the end of the day, your life is still in jeopardy and they're treating it like some joke. Unable to form any sort of retort, you simply blink; stuck in a stupor raw, stung, and with a dumb look on your face.

Soap, rounding the table slaps Gaz on the back, his face flushed red from laughing so hard. "Yer makin' my stomach hurt. God," he eggs the other on between his dying chuckles and attempting to catch his breath.

"You're really just gonna stand there and laugh?!" You finally burst. Anger surely must be coming off your scent in waves, but you don't care. Standing from the chair, you don't flinch as Ghost swipes his arm out in front of you in case you were going for the Captain again. There will be no physical altercation on his watch.

"She already pulled this on me earlier, mind you, and now what? You're trying to pull it over on the lads' too, eh?" Price goads you.

"And I was telling the truth! You're the one who said I was joking," you point out. The volume of your voice is lost on you, partially blinded by the fury bleeding out.

"I suppose you never did admit to it being a prank," Price reasons, fingers grazing his beard as he runs them over it repeatedly in thought. "But how do you expect us to believe that when you clearly smell of a Beta?"

"Even on the battlefield, after everything we've been through-" Gaz starts.

"After yer all sweaty from a workout, too. I think we'd notice, Pan," Johnny argues, illuminating a legitimate point of consideration.

"Oh please," you mutter quietly to yourself. Shaking your head, you can't believe they're really all being this daft right now. "Like you have heard of those Scent Spritzers.”

There are various perfumes on the market specifically designed to alter one’s scent. Most use it smell like an Alpha when they’re not, or an Omega when they’re wanting to seduce an Alpha when going out. But Omegas posing as Betas was rarely heard of. You’re more than sure it happens more frequently than people know of, they just haven’t been caught. And in your line of work? It’s scarce. People are thoroughly vetted, but… you’d been on suppressants for a long, long time. And a Beta perfume only perfected your hiding.

“Did you forget we’re Alphas, love? We’d be able to smell you across the room if you were,” Gaz taunts. There’s a puff of his chest that makes his cockiness even more annoying than usual.

"You really want to be an Omega? Dumb yourself down to some weak fragile thing?” Johnny jokes, nudging Gaz’ arm as he shakes his head.

“A doll who can get whoever she wants? Want to be nothing more than good for knockin' up and popping out pups?” Gaz adds on.

“Are you serious right now?” You test, seething under your skin as your hands ball up into fists. “How could you say that?!”

“It’s what people say,” Ghost comments.

“Nobody would want that and you’re out here lying about it,” Johnny pokes.

“We’re only trying to point out the flaws in your little rouse, Pan,” Gaz says, a smile lighting up his features as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"And what if I was lying, hm? Would that change anything you just said to me? How you feel about Omegas?" You scoff.

“This isn’t about your designation,” Price finally speaks. Fingers still weaved into his beard, his blue eyes lift to meet yours. “I see what this is about now, but there's nothin' to worry about, Dove.” Your Captain takes on a softer tone and all of the sudden you feel yourself start to get emotional as a twinge of sadness, of the hurt bleeding through upon understanding makes you feel seen.

“I know it's intimidating, the thought of having your first unmedicated heat, but we have medics here. It's natural. Heats, ruts, we all have them. And, hey... at least you're not an Omega, right?" Whatever relief you’d momentarily experienced sinks back down in your gut with the speed of a rollercoaster drop. It’s as silent as a stakeout, the only sound being people’s breathing. And the lack of yours.

It takes a moment to gather yourself, everyone’s eyes on you with the serious topic change. While sex and the downsides to a designation are something discussed with the boys, you’d often been left out. And to your comfort. "You know what? I can’t do this,” you retort. Backing from the group, you toss your hands up. “I guess you'll just have to wait and see," you bite back. With a whip of your hair over your shoulder, you head for the door.

The room is silent once more as everyone gawks. You’d never reacted in such a manner, had an outburst like that… this is… certainly different, and something they’re not at all used to.

“It’s because they took away her suppressants today,” Price explains. It might not have been something the group should be privileged to know. A private matter, really… but with the way you acted? He felt the men deserve an explanation, at least.

“That makes sense,” Gaz responds quietly, eyes still on the door you’d gone through.

“That’s no excuse,” Johnny counters, arms crossing over his chest with a scowl on his lips.

"Well... that went better than I thought,” Ghost comments with a shrug. “Back to the plan? We can fill her in later.”

[brainddeadd]

Five Times Quinn Proposes to His Girlfriend and One Time He Actually Asks

1. The Kitchen Proposal It was a lazy Sunday morning, the kind that begged for pancakes and soft, lingering hugs. Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating the cheerful chaos of Quinn's cooking attempts. Flour dust settled like a gentle snow, and pancake batter splattered across the counter as he flipped yet another misshapen pancake.

“Okay, but hear me out,” he said, his voice teasing as he turned to face his girlfriend, leaning against the doorframe with a bemused smile. “If you say yes to my next pancake, we can call it a proposal.”

She raised an eyebrow, her laughter bubbling up as she watched him struggle. “What does that even mean?”

Quinn held up the golden pancake like it was a diamond ring, winking. “Will you marry me? Or will you settle for this delicious, slightly burnt masterpiece?”

She rolled her eyes playfully but stepped forward, taking the pancake from his hands with mock seriousness. “Only if you promise to never make pancakes again.”

“Deal!” he declared, his grin wide enough to rival the sun shining outside. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the pancake into the air, but it landed on the floor with a splat.

She burst out laughing, shaking her head. “This is why you’re not allowed in the kitchen without supervision!”

2. The Winter Wonderland Winter had transformed the city into a sparkling wonderland, and Quinn had convinced her to go ice skating. They bundled up in their warmest clothes, scarves wrapped snugly around their necks, and ventured to the nearby outdoor rink.

As they skated hand in hand, Quinn felt a rush of adrenaline. The cold air was refreshing, and the music playing in the background added a festive cheer. Suddenly, he paused, a wild idea striking him. Dropping to one knee on the ice, he raised an imaginary ring, his breath visible in the frosty air.

“Will you marry me?” he shouted, his voice echoing amidst the laughter of other skaters.

She stopped skating, her eyes wide in disbelief, laughter mixing with shock. “Quinn! You can’t propose on ice!”

“I can and I just did!” he replied, the playfulness in his tone infectious.

“Get up before you slip and break your knee!” she urged, trying to suppress her giggles.

“Too late! You have to answer now!” he teased, a gleam in his eye.

“Okay, okay! Yes!” she exclaimed, laughter spilling over as she reached down to help him up.

3. The Concert Surprise When their favorite band announced a surprise show in town, Quinn wasted no time in securing tickets for them. The energy in the air was electric, and they stood close together, the music vibrating through their bodies.

As the band played their favorite song, Quinn leaned close, his breath warm against her ear. “What if I proposed to you right here, right now?”

Her heart raced at the idea, and she pulled back to look into his eyes, excitement and disbelief dancing in her gaze. “In front of everyone?”

“Yeah! Just think of the stories we’d tell,” he replied, a mischievous smile creeping onto his face.

She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re insane!”

“Insanely in love with you!” he shot back, raising an imaginary ring over her head like a crown.

The chorus hit, and the crowd cheered, but all she could hear was Quinn’s laughter echoing in her heart, knowing he’d always find a way to make even the most ordinary moments extraordinary.

4. The Movie Night One rainy evening, they cozied up in their living room, surrounded by snacks and blankets. The perfect movie night atmosphere enveloped them as they settled in for a classic romantic film.

As the credits rolled and the romantic tension peaked, Quinn turned to her with a soft, earnest expression. “So, if I asked you to marry me during the climax of our movie, would you say yes?”

Her laughter filled the room, bright and infectious. “Only if you promise to let me pick the next movie! I’m not sitting through another one of your terrible action flicks.”

“Deal!” he chuckled, pulling her closer as they shared a bowl of popcorn. “But I might just have to keep proposing to you until you agree.”

She shook her head, unable to contain her smile. “Good luck with that!”

And as the rain pattered against the window, they knew their love story would be filled with all sorts of playful, ridiculous moments like this.

5. The Game Day On a particularly exciting game day, Quinn’s adrenaline was running high as the Vancouver Canucks faced off against their biggest rivals. Sitting in the hotel room after the game, he watches her face through the screen.

“You know,” he said, leaning closer to the camera, “if I proposed, it would definitely be the ultimate distraction from the game.”

“Only if you promise to be the star player in our love story,” she replied, a smirk dancing on her lips.

“Absolutely! I’ll score goals and love you forever,” he declared, making a heart with his hands, drawing laughter from her.

She leaned in closer to the phone, whispering, “Then you better hurry up and get me that ring!”

The Real Proposal Finally, on a serene Saturday morning, the sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow in the bedroom. The world outside was quiet, the only sound being the gentle rustle of sheets as they stirred. Wrapped up in each other’s warmth, Quinn felt a rush of calm wash over him as he watched her sleeping peacefully.

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his heart swelling with love. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the one that felt right.

“Hey,” he whispered, gently coaxing her awake. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open, revealing that soft smile he loved so much.

“Good morning,” she murmured, snuggling deeper into his embrace, warmth radiating from her.

Quinn took a deep breath, his heart racing. “I know I’ve jokingly proposed a million times, but this one is for real.”

She blinked at him, surprise and curiosity mixing in her gaze, and he felt a rush of nerves.

Reaching for the small velvet box he had hidden under the bed, he knelt beside her, heart pounding in his chest. “Will you marry me?”

As he opened the box, revealing the ring nestled inside, her expression transformed into one of pure joy and disbelief. Tears welled up in her eyes as she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth.

“Quinn! Is this real?” she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Absolutely. I want to spend forever with you,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity and love.

“Yes! A thousand times, yes!” she replied, her laughter mixing with happy tears as she threw her arms around him.

With tears of happiness in her eyes, she whispered, “Forever.”

And at 7:23 AM, under the soft covers, they promised each other a lifetime of love, laughter, and all the ridiculous proposals yet to come. The world outside faded away as they wrapped their arms around each other, knowing this was just the beginning of their beautiful journey together.

[punkshort]

I don’t know if this is an annoying request but is there any way to get a Drabble of when reader had gotten jealous (in the past before the accident) when she found out that joel and Angie had history. In one of your previous chapters, Joel described it as some of the best sex of his life 👀

-Kiwi 🥝💚

Not an annoying ask at all! Thank you for sending this to me, this was a great idea! Sorry it took so long to get to it!

Jealous

An I Know Who You Are drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: smut (18+ MDNI), blow job, unprotected piv sex, language, edging, lil bit of dom reader/sub joel, masturbation, angry/a little rough sex, jealousy, possessiveness, spanking, hair pulling

WC: 1.6K

A/N: I want to let everyone know this part of their history took place very early on in their relationship. Reader does not yet know his secret, they are in the 'messing around' stage and if you recall, Joel once compared reader to taming a wild horse. So the reader in this story is very different from the one we know. Enjoy!

"Please," Joel whimpered, no longer above begging.

You were between his legs, his cock leaking and heavy in your mouth. With every swirl of your tongue and pump of your fist, he felt himself getting closer and closer to the brink just to have you pull away with a devilish smirk. It was maybe the third time you left him gasping for breath but he lost count so he couldn't be sure. His brain was a jumbled mess and his skin was on fire, soaked with sweat due to his heart pounding so furiously in his chest for the past twenty minutes.

"God, I love it when you use your manners," you purred. You cracked your back and neck with a soft moan, completely ignoring his cock throbbing and aching for attention in front of you. "It really turns me on. Wanna see?"

He groaned and arched his back off the bed, desperately trying to get you to touch him again. He wasn't used to this. Whatever it was you were doing together was fairly new and while the sex was always good, this was something else. And all because at dinner that night, you discovered he fucked someone else well before you even arrived in Jackson.

It was beginning to bother him how non-committal you were. The first couple times you were together, he didn't mind. In fact, he preferred it that way. Especially considering the guilt that weighed him down ever since he first recognized you. But recently, something changed in the way he looked at you, thought about you, felt about you. He was so fucking rusty, he had no idea how to shift the nature of your relationship to something more meaningful. So when Angie showed up, batting her lashes and touching his shoulder at the bar while he waited for you to finish playing whatever game you were playing and come home with him, he leaned into it a bit. He tossed Angie a smile just to add fuel to the flames and make you end the charade. And out of the corner of his eye, when he saw you stiffen and slam down your drink, he felt his cock twitch with excitement.

Maybe he shouldn't have pushed your buttons.

"You're not listening to me," you said sternly, grabbing his chin and forcing his attention back onto you. "I asked you a question."

"Yes," he rasped, "show me. Please," he added, remembering at the last second how you liked it when he begged. You smiled and let his chin go, then took that very same hand and slowly dragged it down your bare chest, over your stomach and underneath the fabric of your panties. You tipped your head back and moaned when you slid two fingers into your pussy, and when you began to rock your hips into your hand, still kneeling between his legs on the bed, he whined and fisted the bedsheets next to him.

He desperately moaned your name, wiping the sweat from his forehead, but you cut him off.

"So wet," you whispered, rolling your neck and opening your eyes, steadily holding his gaze while you continued to fuck yourself with your fingers. "Feels so good. Maybe I'll just make myself come, instead."

"No!" he growled angrily, sitting up and grabbing the back of your neck. You gasped in surprise but he could see your eyes sparkling with excitement and the corners of your mouth twitch.

"No?" you repeated, tilting your head to the side and sinking your teeth into your lower lip, your eyes locked onto his, now inches away from your face while you snapped your wrist even faster between your legs.

"I wanna make you come," he said through clenched teeth while he did everything in his power not to grab you by the waist and slam you down on his cock.

"If you don't like it, maybe you should've taken her home tonight, instead," you seethed angrily, then your eyes fluttered closed and your mouth fell open when your fingers finally brushed up against that one spot that always made you come undone. Joel's nostrils flared when he realized you were close and decided he had enough.

"Fuck this," he muttered. He wrapped his hand around your wrist and yanked it out from between your legs, and before you even had a chance to open your eyes and yell at him, he scooped his other arm around your back and flipped you over so you were lying underneath him. He smirked down at you, finally getting the upper hand. "Did I make you jealous, baby?"

You scoffed and wiggled underneath him, but he pinned you down.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're allowed to fuck whoever you want."

He hummed and noticed your fingers still glistening with your slick. He grabbed your wrist and popped both your fingers into his mouth, his tongue lapping up your arousal with a heady groan, making sure to lick up every last drop before releasing your fingers with a grin.

"Only wanna fuck you, though."

He noticed the way your expression softened a bit, just for a split second. The first crack in your armor. But before he could dig into it deeper, you shifted gears.

"Then go ahead and fuck me already."

He yanked your underwear so fast down your legs, you heard the fabric rip, but you could hardly care when a moment later he was sinking himself inside you with a strangled groan, both finally finding some relief in the familiar stretch.

"Y'drive me fuckin' crazy, y'know that?" he murmured into your cheek. He held your jaw tightly in his grip, his hips roughly slamming into you as you gasped and moaned under him. With every harsh thrust, he brushed against that one spot, already stimulated from your fingers earlier. "Can't just admit you're jealous? Wouldn't look my way all night 'til someone else did and now look at you. Makin' a mess all over my cock."

Your eyes flared with anger and you yanked your chin out of his grasp. Grabbing a handful of his hair, you pulled as hard as you could, causing him to lose his balance for a moment, but it was all you needed. You wrapped your legs around his waist and with a grunt, rolled him over onto his back so you were straddling him.

Your mouth crashed down against his, teeth clashing and tongues messily licking into each other. With your heavy breaths mingling together, his hands roamed, grabbing onto every part of you he could find until they settled on your hips. He helped guide you in his lap, fingers digging into the fatty area where your thighs and hips creased, adding more force every time you dropped back down onto his thick length.

"Jesus, fuck!" Joel growled, lifting one hand to slap your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp until the pain faded and you ordered him to do it again, so he did.

You moaned and tilted your chin to the ceiling, hips grinding into him so you could give your burning thighs a break but it apparently wasn't enough because he started to ram up into you, soft grunts slipping past his lips with each thrust.

With little warning, your back arched and you cried out, convulsing and squeezing his cock as you came, gasping desperately for air. He couldn't tear his eyes away, completely mesmerized, like usual. You were gorgeous, he always knew that, but when he got to see you fall apart for him, it transcended his definition of beauty and left him in awe.

Once you collected yourself, he pulled you down to his chest, burying his face against your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your ribs, slamming into your used cunt over and over, making you whimper against his skin.

"I wanna come inside you so fuckin' bad," he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

"You can't," you whispered back, leaving out but I wish you could.

"I know."

With a rough groan, he pulled out, causing your eyelids to flutter weakly and your pussy clench angrily at the loss. He pulled your hips down flush so he could rut against you, stilling momentarily when his hot spend spilled out, smearing all over your stomachs.

After giving him a moment to catch his breath, you tried to roll off of him but he didn't loosen his grip.

"Just another minute," he said softly into your shoulder. He felt your body relax and he inhaled deeply, breathing in your scent for later. He tilted his head so he faced you and locked his lips with yours, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. But you didn't allow it for long. You never did.

"Joel," you murmured against his mouth, pulling away and pushing yourself up. He sighed and let you go, watching as you stood on shaky legs to enter his bathroom and clean yourself up. You handed him the wet towel before collecting your clothes from the floor, holding up your mangled underwear with one finger and giving him a look. He chuckled as he wiped his stomach and shrugged.

You rolled your eyes and turned around so he didn't see the smile on your face as you got dressed. His eyes raked up and down your body for a moment before he said, "you don't gotta leave, y'know."

"I have patrol in the morning."

"So?"

"So I need to get some sleep," you said, pulling your shirt on and fixing your hair. He was really growing to hate this part. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow," you added over your shoulder as you headed towards his door. He didn't respond. He just watched you leave, a slow smile pulling at his lips because even though you acted indifferent towards him, the fact remained that you were jealous of another woman giving him attention, and that had to mean something.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Ohh I got soooo many ideas, like CV reader got kidnapped by black mask (I think it's red hood nemesis, am not that deep in DC comics but I know the basics) so he could have a deal or take information out of red hood using CV reader. And when Jason found out about it he was pissed but when he got there the bad guys already down because CV reader took them down.

P.s I don't mind if you use this as a reference to make a headcanon or story on contrary i would love to read it, but it's up to you!!

🎧ྀི » [ what a catastrophy ! ] «

0:00 ─〇───── 0:00

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

tw/cw: yandere, jason being horny/implied noncon, cat villain! reader being an absolute menace and a whore as always.

pairings: yan! batfam x cat villain/vigilante! reader

note: this happens after conflict between jason and other members of batfam are resolved and at that point cat villain! is more solidly on the cat vigilante! side

“How long is this going to take exactly? I’m about to take an involuntary cat nap with how utterly slow you all are being.”

The Court of Owls were a group of people you’ve absolutely despised on every era you’ve had under your cat mask. Whether it was your wild years as Cat Woman’s protégé or when you were basically assimilated as the Batfam’s shared s/o. You could never bring yourself to like absurdly rich people that well. Much less rich people who do bad things.

For legal and safety reasons, you have to say that the Batfamily are an exception.

You don’t know how on Earth they managed to get their hands on equipment that prevented your powers from working, but it was proving to be quite the annoying conundrum.

“I’m sorry but I’m feline a little too underwhelmed by this whole kidnapping thing. Why don’t we hurry things up a little?”

MEANWHILE . . .

“Where the hell did you take them?!”

Jason slammed Black Mask unto the wall, using the backside of his arm and pressing it against the man’s chest.

The latter’s men took a defensive, alert stance. Ready to pounce on command.

But Black Mask only gestured them to stand down.

“You have to understand, the fact that I even thought of informing you of my deal is a huge risk. I could lose my biggest benefactors.” He replied, calm and polite. In contrast to the harsh kick he deals to his assailant, making Jason back off. “I’m doing you all a favor. I’m doing [Cat Villain Name] a favor.”

“They’re currently on a private island to the south. I can’t give you the exact coordinates but here’s the general location.” He tossed a flashdrive, one swiftly caught and skimmed through by Tim.

“Why are you helping us?” Damian’s mind was already calculating the best way to get rid of everyone in this room. The grip on his katana tightening by the second. He had full faith that you were capable of taking care of yourself, but it did not help with the fear of disappearance whatsoever.

He was sure that the sight of you getting hurt would lead to him going on a rampage.

“Maybe the fact that even with my help, you kids being too late would open their mind and make them come back to our side. They’d finally learn that you’re only as good for them as Batman was to —“ Damian couldn’t stop himself anymore, knocking the man unconscious as the rest of the crew took down his goons with ease. Their worry over your current condition giving them a surprising amount of efficiency as a team.

“It’ll take several hours to even get to those islands much less even find which one . . .” Tim bit his lip. He wasn’t concerned at all. He knows you inside and out. In fact, he already knew where you were exactly. All of this info gathering was just his plan to delay things so that your patience would run out and he’d get front row seats to the carnage you’d inevitably cause. After all, there was something he can always predict when it came to you.

Your unending thirst for fun and chaos.

It took about a week for them to find you. Just about enough time for you to get antsy about not seeing your beloved pets and home.

And plenty of time for you to have your fun, pretending to be hurt, crying out in feigned agony, before you finally took down your prey.

“Red Hood! Come back! We can’t just barge in—“ Dick called out to Jason.

But all Jason could think of was the way you screamed in terror. The footage of your ‘torture’ was something he had nightmares about.

“Kitty! Are you—“ He kicked the door off its hinges, guns ready to fire.

But his sights only landed on a singular breathing being in the middle of a room. Covered in the blood of your victims. Grooming yourself clean.

Each lick sending shivers down his spine.

He sighed in relief. “You really have to stop playing with your food, Kitty.”

His lips envelopes yours as the world disappears from your vision.

୨ ©️ ୧⸝⸝﹕hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024﹐⊂☁️⊃ ‹𝟹

[luimagines]

Can i request a thing where modern!reader teaches the chain about rhythm games?

-🍄

Yes.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

"You have to hold it for longer." You explain gently.

"This too hard!"

"Because you keep doing it wrong." Legend snorts. "Let me try."

"Let him finish."

Another bad score. Another embarrassing defeat.

"This game sucks." Wild growls, tossing your device back to you.

"You have to listen to the music other wise you're going to struggle with it anyway." You roll your eyes and restart the game.

"Let me try!" Wind cries happily, wanting to snatch the device out of your hands before you can set up an easier level.

"No way! I said I was next!" Legend tries to block the young boy. You however, are doing your best to not get trampled.

Time passes without much comment, only sparing your small group with a disinterested glance before walking away.

You get an idea.

"Hey Old Man! Wanna give it a try?" You stand quickly, wanting to catch him before he decides to "run away" from the chaos you're not creating.

You see him sigh internally before turning to you, deciding to humor you. "What is it?"

"I have a rhythm game I've been trying to master." You grin with hidden delight. "Try it. It's easy."

"Lies!" Wild calls from the distance.

Time raises a cool eyebrow. For a moment you think that he's not going to do anything about it and leave you to your devices.... But he holds his hand out.

You grin and hand him the device. You teach him the way the game works ad soon everyone huddles around to watch him try and take out the level. He keeps getting higher and higher, beating boss after boss.

Everyone is enthralled with watching him.

It takes fifteen minute before he finally gets bested by one of the harder levels and hands it back to you with an unimpressed face. "It's alright."

"Alright?!" Legend all but screams. "That was incredible! How did you keep going?!"

Time shrugs and stands. "It wasn't difficult."

Four has to physically restrain Wild from throwing an apple at Time's head. Twilight and Warrior are trying to fight Legend for a turn on the game next while you're back to setting the little character back to the lower levels.

Sky continues to watch but doesn't seem to interested in giving it a try.

You grin towards Time and tilt your head. "He's not wrong. For someone who's never come close to this kind of game, you're really good at it. Got any story to explain why that is?"

"Maybe." Time shrugs.

You wait for him to elaborate.

Time smirks and walks away.

"WHAT?! Nothing!?? Not even a crumb!?"

[mrsevans90]

Double Life

Summary: Charlotte has gone on a few dates with a journalist named Clark Kent and she really feels like she’s falling for him. She has noticed some odd behavior from him every once in a while, but the worst part is not knowing if he’s truly interested in her. Why won’t he make a move? Is he just taking things extremely slow? Are her feelings for him unrequited? She finds the answers to all of her questions in the most embarrassing way imaginable. 

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Clark Kent/Superman x Female Reader Charlotte

Brief mention of Bruce Wayne x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,060 

Warnings: SMUT; masturbation, voyeur, oral (f), oral (m), squirting, cum swallowing, fingering, P in V intercourse, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), dirty talk, rough sex, language.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d

A/N: This story came to me in a dream and I woke up and immediately typed the idea in my notes section of my phone. This is my very FIRST attempt at writing anything on Tumblr so all I ask is please be kind and if you love it then please comment and REPOST! Thank you for reading! 

*CHARLOTTE POV*

I woke up early Saturday morning. It seems impossible to sleep in now that I’ve become so used to being at the office by 8 am every morning. I feel a bit jittery after my date last night and am thankful for the wine that I consumed being the only reason I even was able to fall asleep. I lay in bed as my thoughts run wild. I know I should be getting out of bed and going for a run in an attempt to get rid of this pent-up energy, but glancing towards my bedroom window shows a dreary overcast day with a potential for rain. I toss and turn trying to find a comfortable position while my brain races thinking of last night. A handsome and often quiet man named Clark Kent had taken me on our fifth date. He was absolutely gorgeous, well dressed with his hair combed back, strong jaw with dimpled chin and black framed glasses. His incredible physique and handsome features are only partially what attracts me to him. His generous and mild-mannered personality and intelligence were a huge turn on. The attraction I feel for Clark is more than I ever remember feeling for a man before. My dating life since getting cheated on by my long-term high school boyfriend has been very short lived which I was fine with until now. I feel like I’ve continually held men at arm’s length, settling for a few one-night stands but nothing more in an attempt to spare my heart from more heartache. I realized after our third date that I wanted more with Clark and that he was worth the risk but I honestly am not sure how he feels about me. Yes, he’s continued to ask me on dates; taking me to dinner several times and even to a movie, yet he hasn’t made any more advances other than holding my hand and a cordial peck on the cheek. He walks me to my door after each date and ends our evening with a hug, kiss on the cheek and a goodnight. After our fourth date, I asked him if he’d like to come inside, however, he politely declined. I’m going out of my mind trying to figure out if he’s even interested but I haven’t built up the courage to ask him yet. I doubt I would even get the chance after I essentially stuck my foot in my mouth on the walk home from dinner with him last night. 

*Flashback to last night*

We walked past a storefront near my apartment that was advertising superman shirts for children and I commented how cute they were. I had noticed over the past month, that Clark was very quiet anytime I mentioned the famous Superman around him. Why couldn’t I just take the hint that he was uncomfortable?

“You know, you look an awful lot like Superman. I bet if you dressed as him for your work Halloween party, people wouldn’t be able to tell the difference in you both!” I said with a smile that quickly went away when I noticed him flinch.

Unfortunately, I didn’t stop my nervous rambling there. In my attempt to lighten the mood, I said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that you actually are Superman! Ha ha! Do you have a secret identity you’re keeping from me, Clark?” I said with a wink. 

When I looked at Clark he seemed withdrawn and somewhat nervous. 

“No, no. I’m certainly not that interesting.” Clark quickly responded while looking at his feet as we walked into my apartment building.

“I’ve enjoyed tonight but I have to get going. I have, um… I have an early start in the morning attempting to interview people in Gotham City about the latest crime statistics.” Clark told me before I could even invite him inside. He seemed fidgety and awkward as he kept glancing anywhere but at my eyes.

“On a Saturday?” I ask and he quickly nodded while avoiding eye contact with me.

“Good journalism never takes a day off.” He said with an embarrassed smile. 

“I could possibly help. I have Bruce Wayne’s contact information if you’d like it. I’m sure he could be an interesting person to interview for your article.”

“You do? Why? I mean, how do you know him?” He responded with an arched eyebrow as he finally made eye contact with me for the first time in the past few minutes.

“Well, almost two months ago I met him at a charity gala for the Children’s hospital. He came over and spoke to me for a bit before he asked me on a date. It was the day after you asked me if I would go to dinner with you so I politely turned him down. He gave me his business card in case I changed my mind.” I responded quickly. Why does this feel so awkward? I didn’t do anything wrong but I still feel like he’s disappointed.

“I’m sure it’s on my desk in the apartment, if you’d like to come inside?” I ask as a last stitch effort to see if I had completely ruined this date.

“No, no that’s not necessary…Thank you, I appreciate the offer though. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Clark asked with his typical kiss on the cheek. 

“Oh…okay. Goodnight Clark.”

“Goodnight Charlotte.” He responded before turning and beelining for the exit. 

“Way to go, Char. Could you be any more of a dumbass?” I quietly said to myself as I closed my apartment door and went to get ready for bed.

*Present Day*

As I continue to lay in bed I begin thinking about Clark and think about how large and strong his hand was as he cradled my small one in his while we walked to the restaurant. The veins in his muscular arms, and his strong, sharp jaw. My arousal begins to dampen my panties which I quickly remove and lay back in only my white tank top. Guess this will be the only sexual relief I will be getting for a long time. I thought to myself as I reach for the vibrator in my nightstand and begin pleasuring myself. After only a few minutes, I have kicked off my covers as my body begins to glisten with perspiration, and begin pleading for my orgasm to arrive. My eyes clamped shut, I imagine Clark’s large, strong chest against my own, his arms on either side of my head as he pumps what I can only imagine is a perfect and large cock into my warmth. I imagine his beautiful blue eyes staring into my own as he presses kisses to my body and sucks on my neck.

“Clark! Please, please, please, Clark! Ugh! I need you!” I say verbally as I continue to spur myself on in this filthy fantasy. 

CLARK POV:

Across town I am scrambling some eggs on the stove as I think about last night. Had Charlotte actually figured out my secret? Something the rest of the world seemed oblivious too? Or was she just joking and truly unaware? I had to deny it even though she was absolutely correct. I cringed as I began thinking about Bruce hitting on her. It’s not shocking since she’s possibly the most naturally stunning, intelligent, and interesting woman I have ever met. I believe I made it clear with him on the phone after I came home last night to stay away from my girl. I know she’s not technically mine, or a possession to own, but I have more claim to her heart than Bruce and I won’t allow him to interfere. Before I even realize it, I have squeezed a hand shaped imprint around the flimsy handle of the pan I was using.

“Damnit!” I mutter to myself.

I feel like Charlotte is getting impatient with me. It’s obvious that she wants more but how do I handle a relationship with someone I can’t be fully honest with. I want to tell her, I want her to fully know me but I feel like I can’t. I think back to how Lois was used essentially as bait when we were dating. The paranoia and pressure of being Superman’s personal kryptonite and obvious weakness was too much for both of us. Now, she was happily engaged to an engineer in the city. I’m delighted for her, she deserves true happiness yet I wonder if I’ll ever get to experience the same. I couldn’t stop myself from asking Charlotte on a date. The moment I saw her walking into the office next to me, I was lovestruck. Her long blonde hair, tight but professional dress with heels and most importantly crystal blue eyes. She was independent and driven as the head of marketing for her department. Yet, she still had this kindness about her as I watched her enter her building and the front desk guard hug her while thanking her for the toys she had sent home for his young children. She smiled genuinely and made him promise to bring his wife and children for a visit soon. God how I wanted every bit of her. I wanted her body, her mind, her future. The fourth time I saw her, I couldn’t help myself as I made my way towards her and “accidentally” bumped into her. We began a conversation and I was hooked. Before I could even think about the potential consequences, I was asking her to dinner. My cock ached as I thought about her in the shower last night after our date. Hell, I may be an alien but I still have sexual urges. She smelled and looked so beautiful. I could imagine her breasts pressed against my body. I daydreamt about the softness of her lips and the sounds she might make as I slowly took her apart. It has been almost impossible to turn down her invitations to join her in her apartment. I haven’t even allowed myself to kiss her because I’m scared to go any further and get more attached only to have her walk away if she finds out my secret. Was this self-preservation or just stupidity? I’m jolted out of my thoughts as I hear her voice louder than all the others noises going on around me thanks to my super hearing. I listen carefully as I hear her calling my name.

“Clark! Please, please, please, Clark! I need you!” 

I hear her whine and she sounds as if she is out of breath. Without thinking I jump into my Superman suit and bolt out of the window straight into the sky headed towards Charlotte’s apartment. As I get closer, I can hear her whimper along with her accelerated heartrate and I panic thinking she’s in trouble. I reach her unlocked window and slide it open before flying in. Her apartment smells just like her, floral and clean. I focus on her heartbeat and the quiet buzzing sound that I originally thought was coming from the apartment below hers. As soon as I open the door I smell her arousal at the same moment I watch her reach her climax with her eyes clamped shut. 

“Yes, baby!” She cries out. Her legs are parted as she holds a small purple vibrator against her clit and I can see and smell how turned on she is as her pussy glistens with her want. Her breasts are barely contained in a thin white tank top as they heave up and down while she breathes through her orgasm.

Fuck! I’m such a pervert. I need to get out of here before she sees me!

I can’t help but stare at her as she’s laying there twitching from her euphoria. I reach for the door to carefully close it before I realize I wasn’t quick enough.

“Oh my god!” She shouts as she pulls the covers over her body to cover her modesty. Her face blushing profusely as she stares at me.

I back up quickly with my hands in front of me until my back hits her hallway wall. “I’m so sorry. I heard you calling for me and I thought you were in pain. I swear I didn’t mean to walk in on you!” I blurt out quickly not even realizing my own mistake. Charlotte just stares at me with a shocked and bewildered look on her face.

“I’ll go, truly I’m so sorry about this, Ma’am.” I say with my eyes directed at the floor as I pray my rock-hard erection isn’t as obvious as it feels in my form fitting suit. Right as I turn to run back towards the window I hear her again.

“Wait! Please wait!”

Her eyes are wide as she slowly begins to smirk as I turn back around to face her, my eyes still drawn to the floor.

“I didn’t call out for Superman. I called out for Clark.” She says and I glance up at her with wide eyes as saucers as I realize that I had just outed my own secret. My cheeks blush and I can’t put together a single thought to respond to what she just said.

We stare at each other for what feels like minutes even though it’s only just a few seconds.

“I knew I was onto something. You’re always MIA around when Superman is on the news fighting crime, and you stiffen up anytime I mention him. You also had to leave early because of a “family emergency” on our third date but seemed confused later when I asked you if everything with your family was okay. That was the same night that serial killer was brought to the police station by Superman in Gotham. I…I hope you know that I won’t ever tell anyone, Clark. I thought you knew that you could trust me.” She says and I step towards her while remaining a safe distance.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I do trust you but I’ve had to keep this secret my entire life. I was scared at how easily you caught on. I always knew you were intelligent but I was hoping I could still keep you off of the scent of my deception.” 

“It was really just a theory, but obviously this is my confirmation. Since I’m already more than embarrassed after what you just saw, I guess I really have nothing to lose if I just go ahead and ask you.”

“I’m listening.” I say as I hear her heartrate begin to increase steadily.

“Is this why you’ve held back from me? Or are you even interested in dating me? I’m absolutely fine with taking things slow if that’s what you want. I can’t help my old insecurities that make me wonder if you’re even attracted to me and are serious about taking things further with us.” She says with the sweetest innocence and I can’t help but walk towards her and reach out to stroke her cheek. She pulls for me to sit down beside her and I can’t resist.

“I am absolutely interested in dating you, sweetheart. If you only knew how infatuated I am with you, it might frighten you. You are my dream girl, the one I think about each night, and the one person I feel like truly sees to my soul, even when you only knew half of my identity. I see a future for us, Charlotte, which is why I was scared. I was scared that you would run if you found out who I am. I was scared you then might only be interested in me because I’m Superman. Simple Clark just can’t compete with all of the Superman fanfare. What scares me the most is that you could be used as a pawn by dangerous people. I can’t fathom putting you in harm's way. People could come after me and find you to use against me. Being Superman ruined my last and only real relationship so I guess I felt that if I kept ours in limbo, I could still have the time I crave with you while also not losing you. I was afraid to let you in because of my own fears. It has absolutely nothing to do with you. I can’t even begin to tell you how hard it was to not kiss you during our dates or come into your apartment when you invited me. I’m so sorry if I made you feel anything other than absolutely adored. I’m out of my element and have no idea what I’m doing.” Clark says the last part with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Clark, I understand your fears and your sense of self-preservation. I do it too. I often feel like I’ve built the walls around my heart too high in order to protect myself from heartache but each moment I’ve spent with you seems to lower them. I see a potential future with you too which is terrifying and exhilarating all at once because I don’t want to be heartbroken again. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you are worth the risk.  I’m not afraid of you, or being with you. I’m not going anywhere. I want you in any and every form and I won’t run away. You are the only person that has made me feel alive again in years.”

Clark smiles triumphantly before leaning down and kissing Charlotte passionately. After kissing her for several minutes, she slowly pulls back to catch her breath.

“So, you’ve seen mine… When do I get to see yours? Fair is fair.” Charlotte looks up at me sultrily as she runs her hands up and down my arms.

“Are you certain that is what you want?” I smirk as I arch my eyebrow at her.

She nods as she sits up on her knees and drops the blanket that was covering her body only clad in a thin white tank top. 

“Only if you want too.” She seductively bites her lip as she trails her fingers down my torso and gently cups my bulge that is swelling indecently against my tight suit. 

“Holy shit!” She murmurs quietly as she presses against my engorged erection and I can’t help but chuckle.

Before I even think I’m unzipping and tugging my suit off of my body at super speed before leaning over her and ripping her tank top from her torso. She squeals in excitement as I lean over her pressing our hot naked bodies against each other while pulling her into a zealous kiss.  

“You don’t know how long I’ve fantasized about having you like this, Lottie. I’ve wanted you to be mine from the moment I saw you.” I say as I touch all over her beautiful body.

“Ditto, which you obviously know since you got a front row seat to my indecent fantasies about you.” She says with a little giggle as I begin kissing down her torso after having already sucked on her pert breasts.

I make my way down her body as I become face to face with her hot, dripping core. I smell the sweet arousal coming from her and when I look up at her for permission she quickly nods as she reaches to caress my cheek. I smirk at her before I begin feasting on her sweet petals and sucking on her clit. 

“Oh my god, Clark!” She almost yells while her hands tug against my hair as she begins gyrating her hips to increase the pleasure she is receiving from my mouth. I continue for a few minutes as I feel her begin to stiffen from her orgasm. I continue to lick her gently through her orgasm but decide that I’m not finished with her yet. I want to give her an orgasm so earth shattering that she squirts her arousal all over my face. She shouts as I shove my finger into her opening, quickly followed by a second one. I curl my fingers and search for her g-spot. 

I know quickly that I’ve found it when her back arches off of the bed and she yells, “Fuck! Clark! Right there!” 

I begin shoving my fingers against the soft spongey spot while my tongue continues to flick over her clit. 

“I think I’m gonna… oh shit Clark! This feels different! Oh my god!” She squeals as her body arches off of the bed and she begins to squirt. The sounds of her squelching and dripping are lewd as I continue to work her through it. Her body almost convulses around my assault and I preen at her filthy moans. I am doing everything to keep from blowing my load on her bed. I watch as Charlotte’s whole body quickly becomes jelly-like as her muscles relax and I lightly kiss her thighs. 

“That was beautiful, baby.” I say as I press small kisses on her hips and abdomen.

“Did I? Oh my god, Clark. Did I just squirt?” She asks as her cheeks are beet red.

“You sure did baby. Soaked my face and almost made me blow my load. Did it feel good?”

“Yes, but I’m so embarrassed. I’m so sor...” She began to say before I quickly cut her off with a kiss. 

“Don’t you ever apologize for that sweetheart. That was a pure masterpiece and I hope I’ll get you to do it again at some point. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on.” I admit before kissing her again.

“Now it’s your turn.” She smiles as she attempts to push me to the bed. It’s like a kitten trying to push a lion over which makes me grin before I quickly concede and lay on my back. 

“Babygirl, you don’t have too. I’m just happy to give you pleasure.” I tell her.

“Oh no, Mr. Kent. I’m not missing an opportunity to taste you.” Charlotte says as she begins moving down my body. I can barely lay still once she reaches my manhood and I feel her warm breath where I need her most. I groan as I take in the sight of her tiny hand wrapping around my girth as she begins to kitten lick along my length. I groan as she looks at me doe eyed before she takes me in her mouth. She has the mouth of a goddess and I’m already close before she even adds her tiny hand to pump what wouldn’t fit. I reach down and grab her long beautiful hair into a makeshift ponytail so I can watch her. I feel her tiny hand begin pulsing around my balls and groan loudly. I can’t help myself as I watch her steady herself before taking my entire length to her throat. She gags as her nose reaches my skin and she slightly pulls off before doing it again. Saliva is dripping from her chin as she continues working my cock.

“Babygirl, I’m gonna cum. You need to...fuck… stop if you don’t want it in your mouth.” 

She moans around my length as she doubles her effort and the vibrations feel heavenly. That’s all it took for me to reach my high and explode down her throat.

My body shivers in aftershocks due to the oversensitivity as Y/N continues to suck around the head of my cock and massage my balls. I look down and see that she’s swallowed everything and is smiling brightly at me. I reach down and pull her up my body as I immediately begin kissing her breathless. 

“Darling, that was incredible. Thank you.” I smile at her before I kiss down her neck. 

*CHARLOTTE POV*

My mind is empty of every thought due to the alarm bells and “OMG THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING” screaming repeatedly in my head. I’m trying my best to play it off, but my fantasy is coming true and it’s even better than I ever could have imagined. Clark is not only the best kisser I’ve ever experienced, but he has the body of a Greek God. Well, in this case, he has a body of a superhero. I’ve been doing my best not to sound needy but heavens, I need him inside of me.

“Clark” I say as he continues to press gentle kisses behind my ear and the column of my neck.

“Yes angel?” 

“Please tell me I don’t have to wait long for you to be inside of me. I need you.”

He smirks above me as I feel his rigid cock against my abdomen. It didn’t go soft after his orgasm. “You want me right now?” I nod enthusiastically. 

“Spread your legs for me sweetheart. Take what you want.” Clark says huskily in my ear. For a man who seemed so reserved and shy, he has all of the confidence in the world when it comes to the bedroom. As he should!

I smile wildly as his chest vibrates against my own with a low growl as I reach his hard length and pump him a few times against my slick before pressing him to my entrance.

“Oh my god!”

“Shit!” 

We both speak simultaneously as he seats himself fully inside of me. It feels like he is reaching my lungs as he gives me a moment to adjust around his ginormous cock.

“God, Clark! You’re huge!” 

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” Clark frets even though he hasn’t moved inside of me.

“Fuck no!” I respond almost breathlessly as I wrap my hands around his biceps tightly. 

“I’ve just never been with someone as big as you. I’m okay. You can move now.”

Clark carefully pulls almost completely out of me before gently sliding all the way back in. 

“Baby girl, you are so tight and warm. You feel incredible.” He says as he starts building up a gentle rhythm. 

“You won’t break me, baby. You can go harder.” 

“I could if I’m not careful, Sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I will tell you if it starts to hurt, I swear. Relax, baby.” I say before kissing him enthusiastically. He reaches and cups my tits in his hands, massaging them gently.

Clark watches me carefully before taking a breath and slamming into me roughly. His pubic bone slamming into my clit making me shriek with the sensation.

“How’s that for harder?” He whispers.

“Oh, fuck yes, baby! Just like that! You feel so good inside of me.” I whine as my hands scratch down his back without even making a mark on his strong impenetrable skin.

“That’s right, sweet girl. I can tell you’re close. Come all over my cock. Squeeze me.” He says as my body begins milking him. 

“CLARK!” I shout.

“Call me Kal, baby. When I’m balls deep inside this sweet pussy, I want you to call me Kal.” He says with the most shit eating grin while never slowing his pace.

“Oh my god, Kal!” I moan just before my eyes roll back and I instantly come all over him.

“Fuck yes, this is the tightest little pussy in the world. So beautiful and wet and snug around me.” He grunts as he continues to slam into me. Before I realize it, he’s sitting me up in his lap so that our chests are against each other and my legs are wrapped around his waist. Clark grabs the back of my neck to press himself even closer to me as I brace my hands on his shoulders. 

“Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly become more beautiful….” Clark whispers into my ear as he grabs my ass to help me move on top of him.

“Watching your gorgeous body tremble in ecstasy is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, Angel.”

Clark plants his feet against the floor and begins wildly thrusting as I rotate my hips in his lap. His hands are most likely leaving bruises on my hips but I don’t even care.

“I want you to come inside of me, baby. I need to feel you fill me up. I’m on the pill. Please?” I speak against his ear between his heavy thrusts into me and clench down on him at his responding moan. What has gotten into me? I’ve never let a man come inside of me. This isn’t just any man though, and I am absolutely feral for him.

“Only if you come with me.” He grunts.

“I can’t… it’s too much.” I tell him as my body shakes against him.

“Yes, you can, baby.” He reaches between us and presses his thumb on my clit. I cry out from overstimulation but realize I’m almost there.

“Kal, right there! I’m so close!”

“Come baby. Soak me.” He says as he continues to pleasure me and a moment later I have the most blinding orgasm of my life. I swear that I feel like I am floating as I hear Clark grunt and release a deep baritone moan as his warm come coats my inner walls. My body is shaking with tingles to all of my extremities as I am encased in pure bliss. When I finally somewhat come to, I realize I wasn’t just floating from my orgasm, Clark and I were actually floating above my bed. Clark’s head is resting on the junction of my neck and shoulder when I quickly press closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck to keep from falling.

Clark chuckles as he gently sets us down on the bed. “I guess you would’ve found out my secret eventually. I just came so hard that I literally levitated.” 

I giggle and press my lips to his. “I didn’t freak you out, did I?”

“Not at all. I think it’s really cool that you are Superman, Kal;” I say as I stroke a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. “but the man that I have been falling in love with is Clark. He is all I need. The rest is just a bonus. If you’ll have me of course.”

Clark rests his forehead against my own as he gives me the most panty dropping smile. “You don’t know how much that means to me, sweetheart. Will you be my girl?”

“I would love nothing more.” I respond with a sweet kiss. The rest of the weekend is spent wrapped in each other.

[juuuulez]

more lip x carmy x reader smut……. consider it not a direct prequel to this piece, but definitely in the same universe.. the start of their shenanigans perhaps.

so lip is your roommate: maybe you’ve managed to wrangle him into moving to a nicer area, someone safer than the south of chicago. it’s got tons of nice restaurants, you tell him! the nightlife is buzzing, public transport is (a little) cleaner, and it’s not even that far from home.

and he comes out of convenience, not because you two are anything special. he’s made that very clear. sure, you fuck around sometimes, and lip goes out of his way to make sure you’re always happy and satisfied and safe, but he’s very apparent about one fact:

lip gallagher does not do relationships.

not with you, not with anyone.

and yet, as he brings home a new girl every second night, you find yourself becoming increasingly annoyed. it was obnoxious, at this point.

the banging of his bed frame against the very thin walls, the clothes you’ll find scattered in the living room. when his fuck of the week comes out for coffee, half naked and clad in one of his shirts.

it pisses you off.

so, you decide it’s time for a little revenge.

it’s fair game, because in your mind, he started it. the plan is to find a guy, someone good looking, ideally, and have the loudest fuck of your life.

you find this man in a bar, somewhere dark with the music not too loud, just enough alcohol in your bloodstream to convince yourself this is a good idea.

tall, chiselled face, strong jaw… spiky hair…. and oh.

someone else catches your eye.

you think it’s lip, for a moment. that he’s predicted your plan and has come to squash it.

except it’s not lip.

his hair is long and curly, reminding you of lip’s from when he was younger, just a little more wild. it makes you yearn for the feeling of it between your fingers, a sorely missed sensation given that now lip insists on the buzz cut.

doesn’t matter, focus!

long story short, you manage to lure this mystery man off, with not more than some batted lashes and a sweet smile. you’d really been expecting more of a fight. regardless, it’s a win.

his name is carmy. so cute. you find it ironic that this guy has a clear aversion towards just using his actual name. and who does that remind you of?

the door closes with a slam, rattling the keys attached to the wall. “shh—” carmy whispers inbetween sloppy kisses, his hands settled on your waist as you tug him further down the hall. “don’t y’have roomates?” he asks.

“roommate, singular.” you mumble against his lips, fingers already working at the thin black tie he’s wearing.

it gets thrown to the floor, along with carmy’s jacket, and your heels. his hands find your thighs, pushing up the material of your dress, fingers hooking into the band of sheer stockings. his mouth finds your neck, mouthing hot and wet against the skin, your hand tugging at his curls.

it ends with your back pressed into the counter, the corner digging in uncomfortably, but that doesn’t matter. as far as a revenge fuck goes, you’re getting lost in the feeling, carmy’s eager hand coming up to cup your clothed cunt.

“fuck.” he grunts into your neck, grinding down against your hip. you wind a hand around to his belt loops, giving a firm tug that only presses his bulge flush with your form.

“jesus fucking christ, are you serious?”

lip squeezes his eyes shut the second he walks through the door, not wanting to see some fucking random rutting against you. there’s a grocery bag in his hand, the plastic crinkling as he tosses it towards the counter blindly, eyes still shut.

the intrusion causes carmy to recoil, his hands moving away from your body like he’d been burnt. a deep red flush comes to his face, made worse as your prying fingers persist, worming their way underneath his dress pants.

“i am serious,” you coo, looking over at lip. “this is my new friend carmy. say hello, carmy.”

“wha— what are you doing?” carmy can only squeak out, this strange mix of embarrassment and arousal thudding through his veins.

your free hand, the one not in his pants, finds the sides of his face, pinching his cheeks between your fingers. you use the grip to tilt his head, making carmy look across at lip.

and.. oh yeah, it’s starting to click now.

because, holy shit, carmy has one thought in his mind: is that me?

well, that thought, and also holy shit, her hand is still on my dick.

and lip’s going through a similar thought process, albeit with more anger, the familiar emotion stirring in his gut and overriding any of that initial confusion, because he knows you, and he knows this is some sick shit you’ve masterminded.

“bedroom, now.” he gets out, voice low and serious and commanding. it sends a tingle up your spine, one of excitement.

and you obey: grabbing carmy’s hand and tugging him along with you, despite the poor man’s confusion. because if you’re gonna be punished, he should too, right?

[sacrednova]

Drive me home | Simon "Ghost" Riley | 2

fem!reader | In this story, a young woman mistakenly texts Simon "Ghost" Riley, thinking he's her Uber driver after a wild night out. Despite his gruff, reserved nature, Simon shows up. Contains fake screenshots with texts messages and calls!!!!

Part 1 | Part 3

The morning light cut through her curtains like knives, sharp and merciless, forcing her awake. She groaned, clutching her head, the pounding echoing from her temples down to her teeth. A full-blown hangover. Memories from the night before drifted in hazy fragments—drinks, her friends laughing, a text… and then…

She bolted upright, clutching her blanket, a flash of masked eyes and a black truck suddenly flooding her mind. Her stomach dropped.

Did I really let a stranger in a mask drive me home?

She staggered to the kitchen, pouring coffee with shaking hands, and tossed back an ibuprofen, hoping it would chase away the remnants of her dizziness and… her embarrassment. But as she sipped her coffee, the fog lifted, and memories came tumbling back.

Oh, God. The texts. She remembered asking him to drive faster, pleading with him to hurry. And then… had he really helped her into bed?

She scrambled for her phone, her fingers trembling as she typed.

She sent the message, cringing as she relived every second of her clinginess and imagined his unimpressed, masked face watching her stumble around like a mess. A minute later, her phone buzzed with his reply.

The bluntness of it hit her like a slap. She stared at the screen, heat creeping up her cheeks. Reckless? It was probably true, but coming from a guy who looked like… well, like he did?

Because, now that she thought of it, he was big. Broad shoulders and a looming presence, a voice that had sounded just a little rough even over text… She couldn’t remember much, but she remembered that.

Had she imagined it, or had she actually been driven home by a grumpy, masked hero who might, just might, be the most intriguing stranger she’d ever met?

Fueled by a sudden burst of boldness—maybe leftover tipsiness or maybe just the thrill of mystery—she fired back another text.

The minutes ticked by in silence. Her screen stayed blank, his silence practically echoing in her hand. He either didn’t want to answer or found her question annoying. With a huff, she threw her phone aside and went about her day, determined to let it go.

But her thoughts kept circling back, replaying the memory of his silent, masked face and those few brief words in her text thread. She was somehow still thinking about it as she finally gave up and messaged her best friend.

She winced, biting her lip as her fingers flew over her keyboard, spilling out the details.

She blinked, chewing her lip, feeling that thrill rise again as she recalled his rough voice and the way he’d scolded her this morning for being “reckless.”

She laughed, brushing it off. But as she glanced back at her phone and that blank screen, she felt her heart skip a beat. A stranger with a mask and a black truck. And maybe—just maybe—she hadn’t seen the last of him.

She stared at the screen, blinking a few times as if her phone might be playing tricks on her.

Of course, her friend was right. It wasn’t like her to sit back and wait. Normally, she would’ve already sent him a second, third, maybe even a fifth text, just to see if he’d reply. But this time, there was something about him. Something that screamed take it slow, like a quiet warning in the back of her mind.

The idea of calling him, asking him out, was tempting, especially after all the teasing messages from her friend. But she wasn’t drunk anymore. She was sober, and that made all the difference. He was… different. The whole night had felt surreal, like a dream she wasn’t sure she wanted to dive back into just yet.

Her fingers hovered over the screen, uncertainty making her heart race. Maybe it was a sign that she should take a step back, give it time. Maybe.

And then, as if the universe was trying to tell her something, her phone buzzed in her hand.

The notification popped up.

Her breath caught. It was just one word. His name. No explanation, no question. Just Simon. She stared at the text, her thoughts scrambling for meaning. Was he mad? Had he been ignoring her on purpose? Was this some sort of... invitation to keep going?

She sat there for a moment, phone in hand, as her thoughts ran wild. What do I say?

But there it was, the name. Simple. Straightforward. And all at once, the walls she’d been building around her emotions started to crumble. Maybe she wasn’t the only one unsure about what had happened. Maybe he, too, had questions.

She took a deep breath, deciding to take things one step at a time. For now, she would reply. But cautiously.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, but this time, she knew exactly what to say. She took a deep breath and started typing, choosing her words carefully, yet letting a hint of her usual humor shine through.

She hit send and immediately set her phone down, nervous laughter bubbling up as she replayed her words in her head. It was funny, sincere, and hopefully just enough to show him she wasn’t taking herself too seriously—but also that she wasn’t brushing off his help. She felt a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment swirling inside her, waiting, not knowing if he’d even reply.

Seconds dragged on, each one heightening her anticipation, but then—her phone buzzed.

She laughed, feeling a strange warmth at his message, despite the scolding tone she could practically hear in his words. He was blunt, yes, but he’d responded. She let her fingers dance over the keys again.

And just like that, a grin broke across her face.

With a little giggle, she changed his contact name and tossed her phone onto the couch beside her.

As she flopped down, staring up at the ceiling, she felt an unexpected rush of excitement bubbling up, like some teenager caught up in a silly crush. It was weird, she thought, the way one word, one text, could lift her mood like this.

Her cheeks warmed, and she let out a soft, embarrassed laugh at herself. What was it about this masked stranger that had her acting like this? She didn’t know, but for the first time in a long time, she let herself just enjoy the feeling.

[PART 3]

[johnsmithforstupidstuff]

False trust

When my stepbrother caught me sniffing his sweaty gym shoes, I thought I was done for. I figured he'd tell everyone and I'd never live it down. But instead of ratting me out, he came up with a wild idea.

"You're into feet, right? Like, you really dig the smell?" he asked. "Uh, yeah, pretty much," I admitted. "How about you become my shoes?" I was floored. I knew about those transformation guns from stories, but I never knew how to get one or use it. "You have a tf gun?" I asked, shocked. "Yep, and I'm in a hurry, got to hit the gym. So, what do you say?"

Before I could really think it through, he grabbed the gun, a gadget with a bunch of buttons and a small screen, and started pressing away. "It's tougher to change you completely, so let's just merge you with something. Go grab my gym shoes from my room," he instructed.

I knew exactly which ones—his white Nike Air VaporMax that he wore all the time for sports. If he wasn't wearing them, they were stashed in his gym bag in a plastic bag, marinating in sweat. After he busted me sniffing them, this was kind of a full-circle moment. Excited and a bit nervous, I fetched them.

"Okay, listen up," he said as I brought them over. "I'm going to fuse you with these shoes. You'll get to enjoy all the smells up close until I turn you back tomorrow. Cool?" I nodded, still in shock. He pointed the shoes at me and zapped me with the gun. In an instant, my body melded into the sneakers.

Immediately, the stench was overwhelming, way worse than any sniff I'd taken before. That's when he dropped another bomb. "Oops, looks like I cranked up your senses. And uh, I might've goofed the timer—set it for a year instead of a day. Hope you didn't have plans," he joked, not sounding sorry at all.

He picked me up, examining his handiwork. "Your face is now the insoles, limbs are the laces, and your torso's the rest of the shoe." As he twisted a shoe, it felt like I was being wrung out. "You'll survive, I guess. It's gonna be a hot summer, and you're gonna be my go-to pair," he smirked, tossing me to the floor. The impact sent a sharp pain through me. "Oh, and I fused your, balls with the bubbles on the bottom of my soles, so every step gives me an energy boost for my workouts. Tough break, but hey, you're part of the shoe now!"

With that, he slipped me on, and every step was agony. He toyed with me for a few minutes (see the link above), shifting his weight, then grabbed his gym bag. "Don't expect much chat until I switch you back. But, you're pretty comfy, might keep you this way," he laughed, heading out to the gym.

[ladykailitha]

Paper Hearts Part 6

The sequel is coming along great I just have one more part to do and it'll be done. Sweet Home Indiana is nearing its end too.

Heads up! I will be going on vacation on Tuesday and won't be back until next week. So no WIP Wednesday this week as that is the day of my niece's graduation and I will be away from laptop all day.

I will still be uploading chapters and should be able to do WIP Wednesday next week. But if not I'll let you know.

In this we have the Corroded Coffin boys being silly and a wild Dustin appears.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

****

Eddie rolled up to band practice fashionably late as always. The other three boys were doing a sound check and making sure everything was in order.

Gareth looked up first. “Did you bring the hearts?” he asked excitedly.

Eddie held up his bag and the other boys cheered.

“So how are we going to do this?” Eddie asked flopping on the sofa after gently setting his sweetheart to the side. “Do we want to do the hearts first or practice first?”

They all look around at each for a moment.

“Let’s get the heart thing out of the way,” Jeff suggested, “get it out of the way so we can focus on practicing.”

“Sounds good to me, man,” Gareth said. “In case practice runs over or some shit.”

Eddie pulled his backpack closer and began digging through it. He pulled out the hearts that he’d put in a plastic baggie so they wouldn’t get bent in the maw that was his bag.

He tossed the bag onto the table in front of them and then dug around for his notebook. He pulled it out with a bunch of pens.

“You don’t have to,” he murmured, “but I’d recommend changing up your handwriting a couple of times so he doesn’t realize they’re from the same four people.”

“We were doing anonymous and initials, right?” Brian asked, picking up the bag and opening it up.

Eddie lit up, a huge smile on his face. “I actually had an idea about that. I was thinking of famous groups with four dudes in it and I thought it would be hilarious if we mixed it up a bit with some of those to avoid the whole repetition thing.”

Jeff licked his top lip. “Show us what you’ve got,” he said jutting out his chin.

He opened up his notebook and flipped to the right page. “Alright, so I was thinking the Three Musketeers plus D’Artagnan.”

“Who would be who?” Gareth asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Gareth is absolutely D’Artagnan,” Brian said without hesitation. “No question.”

Jeff straightened up and looked over at him in confusion. “Why’s that?”

“Because my dearest Jeffy,” Eddie said with a grin, “because he’s the youngest and not an original member. Therefore D’Artagnan.”

Gareth and Brian glanced at each. Brian shrugged and Gareth blinked a moment or two before he shrugged, too.

“Yeah, that tracks.”

“I’ll take Aramis,” Eddie said with a grin. “The smooth talker with religious trauma.”

The other boys just cackled.

“I’ll be Porthos,” Brian said. “The compulsive liar with a flare for the dramatic.”

“Why am I left with the dude with serious romantic wo–” Jeff stopped. “Right, scratch that. I’m Athos.”

They cackled again. Eddie had had some wild crushes, but it was nothing on Jeff. He even had a slightly tragic love story. He’d actually dated Vicki Carmichael before she became a popular kid and hanging out with Steve’s crowd. They had both loved metal music, but Jeff was pretty sure she stopped listening to it once she joined the cool kids.

“And I have a list of other ones too,” Eddie said breaking into the resulting silence. “The four winds from Greek mythology. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles...um...let’s see...” he looked at the notebook again. “The members of Metallica. The four horsemen of the apocalypse–”

Jeff winced. “Probably not that one, man. It’s for Valentine’s day and that kinda screams the opposite.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment and then scratched out that idea. “Fair enough.”

“The four hobbits from Lord of the Rings?” Gareth suggested.

“Yes!” Brian cried. “I get to be Samwise!”

Jeff cackled. “Gareth and Eddie are sooo Merry and Pippin!”

“Oh god! Yes! Which one is which, though?” Brian said joining in the laughter.

“I’m Merry, of course,” Eddie said proudly. “I’m the instigator and Gareth goes where I lead.”

Gareth grumped in the corner, crossing his arms and glaring at all of them. “But that makes Jeff Frodo though.”

Jeff straightened up, smug. “I could handle that.”

Eddie shook his head at his friends. “All right, also on my list are the Ghostbusters and The A-Team.”

The other boys shook their heads at either suggestion but they had a pretty good list anyway. Plus their D&D names sprinkled in here and there and they’ve got in the bag.

They spent the next half hour coming up with nice things about Steve. Eddie did have nix a couple of their ideas because they came off as stalker-esque. Which was not the look they were going for.

****

To say that Eddie got a kick out of seeing Steve light up every time he opened his locker and more pink hearts fluttered out of it was an understatement.

The goofy smile the former jock got on his face was worth every second of the time they’d spent on the project.

And it was working, too. That was the really impressive part.

Even Tommy H. was baffled.

“How the hell are you getting so many pink hearts, Harrington?” he said on Friday, just four days into Eddie’s plan.

Steve shrugged in that dorky way that made Eddie’s heart stop. “I guess people are deciding to hell with social constructs and stupid cliques and are telling me even if they don’t dare to be open about that they still like me.”

Tommy’s mouth open and closed like a goldfish then he turned around and stormed off.

Eddie lean against the lock above Steve. “Back to being king again, huh, Stevie?”

“Not really,” he said, closing his locker and standing up. “Most of them are anonymous or fake names. But there are a few that real names.”

“You think someone is stuffing the ballot box as it were?” Eddie asked, worried the jig was up.

Steve shook his head. “At least I don’t think so. But it’s sad that they think they have to hide who they are to tell me that they still think I’m a cool dude or whatever.”

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie said, pushing off from the locker, “I think you’re a pretty cool dude.”

Steve blushed and mumbled his thanks.

God, did Eddie just want to bite those flushed cheeks. They were just too cute.

“It’s worth a lot, actually,” Steve whispered. He stood up and shouldered his backpack. “Catch you later, Eds.”

Shit that little nickname had Eddie’s heart doing overtime.

****

Steve was outside the middle school waiting for Dustin to come out. His mom had asked Steve to pick him because she had to stay after hours at work for a meeting.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he hummed to the music in his head. He could have turned on the radio but Dustin hated his music didn’t like him blaring it for the whole school to hear.

His eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror to see his backpack on the backseat. He wanted to go over the ones he got today. There had been some really good ones. Ones that melted his insides and turned them to goo.

He bit his lip and checked the mirror again. He looked at his watch and he still had a couple minutes until the bell rang.

Steve whirled around and grabbed the bag. He ripped it open and pulled out his trapper keeper. Tucked in the front pocket were the hearts. He ran his fingers over the outline the hearts made on the plastic pocket.

He pulled out the hearts and read over each one. Tracing the names of the givers, thinking about each name and wondering where they were from.

There was a thump on his window startling him. He looked up to see Dustin making faces at him through the glass.

Steve shook his head and unlocked the passenger door to let the twerp in.

“Looking at pink hearts, Steve?” Dustin asked with the shake of his head. “So pathetic.”

Steve rolled his eyes and tried to put the hearts back in the folder, but Dustin snatched them from him and wouldn’t let him take them back.

“Come on, man!” Steve whined. “They’re none of your business.”

“I want to see which girls are giving the Steve Harrington Valentine’s hearts,” Dustin said, wagging his eyebrows.

“Dude, give it up,” he growled. “The pink hearts are friendship hearts, the red ones are the romantic ones. So give it back.”

The younger teen cocked his head to the side and said, “No.”

Steve folded his arms and glared at him.

“Aren’t you going to take me home?” Dustin asked after they sat in silence for a minute or two.

“Not until you give them back.”

Dustin just shrugged. “It’s your funeral if we get home after my mom does.”

Steve threw his arms in the air, but turned the engine and started the car toward the Hendersons.

“These are actually really sweet, Steve,” Dustin said after a couple of minutes. “I like the idea of friendship hearts. That way you don’t accidentally send the wrong message.”

Steve just shrugged.

“You do know that some of these are fake names, right?”

Steve rolled his eyes and dared to look over at him. “Yes, of course I do. I am familiar with D’Artagnan after you named a fucking demodog after him, thanks.”

Dustin cocked his head to the side and then shrugged. “That’s fair. What you probably don’t know is that Aramis, Porthos, and Athos are the names of the Three Musketeers.”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “That’s cool.” They hit a stop sign and Steve looked over and pulled out one. “What about this one? Tommy H. thinks it’s short for Kassie, but none of the girls at our school spell it like that.”

Dustin took the heart and looked at it. “Kas. Kas. Yeah, okay. That does sound familiar. Can I get back to you on that one?”

“Sure thing, bud.”

Steve pulled up to curb to let Dustin out. “You got your key? If you don’t, you can hang out with me until your mom gets home.”

Dustin began rummaging around in his bag and Steve snatched the hearts away before he could bend them.

The kid pulled out his keys with a triumphant, “Eureka!”

Steve shook his head. “You are such a dweeb. Go on, get.”

“Bye, Steve!”

“Next time say thank you, asshole!” Steve called out the window.

Dustin turned around and gave him the double middle finger.

Steve shook his head and drove off. Why he loved that kid, he had no idea.

When he got home he pulled out the little notebook and placed the pink hearts in with the rest. All but the one from Kas. Those he kept in his wallet. He really couldn’t place why. There was just something about what they said that made him feel warm and not in the fuzzy friendship way that the others did.

There was the first one:

-Stevie I like the way you’re kind even when it doesn’t benefit you. Kas

Which Steve loved but the others were just as sweet.

-Stevie You have a great laugh, you don’t have to hide it. Kas

-Stevie That shirt today really brings out the color in your eyes. Kas

And Steve’s personal favorite:

-Stevie Each day is brighter because you’re in it. Kas

There was one for each day he got hearts in his locker so he assumed it was all the same person.

He slid it next to the other three hearts in the billfold portion of his wallet and put the wallet next to his keys on his desk. Then he put the little notebook back, careful to make sure it was well hidden.

He wasn’t sure what his dad would do about the mementos but Steve really didn’t want to find out.

He was really going to miss getting the hearts over the weekend. They really had become the highlight of his day.

He sighed and buckled down to work on his homework. It wasn’t as though he had anything better to do with his time. He wasn’t invited to any parties, he didn’t have friends to hang out with, and the people who would hang with him were fourteen year olds and they all had bedtimes.

He briefly thought about calling Eddie, but the guy had friends, unlike Steve and was probably doing something with them. Probably that nerd game that Eddie had a club for.

He buried his head in his hands.

Steve sighed. Fuck his life was depressing as shit.

With another sigh, he resigned himself to another lonely weekend.

****

Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: CLOSED

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[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hi. I have a pretty specific request for Kaz x reader. Basically, the reader was a part of the dregs for some time, well acquainted with Kaz, Nina and Inej (and Jesper, though I don't remember when he dropped studies and joined, but like yeah). After some time (2 years?) the reader is sent off to a job that causes them not to run into the main group a lot. For half a year they almost disappear (maybe swindling people in the harbor or watching some other Dregs’ territory). When they return all is good, new scars were definitely made and all, but that's a part of the job. They did mess up their leg though, having the knee crushed by a heavy object. They didn't get to heal it and after half a year its pretty hard to really fix. Unfortunately, they were known for their dancing and athletics as well as hand to hand combat before. That was why thy were seen as a valuable asset in the first place. And in the Dregs it’s not uncommon to overlook or hide injuries. So, though it's clear that something is wrong, they downplay it, afraid of being seen as weak or useless. But they struggle on the daily. I mean, from experience, that kind of an unhealed injury is hard to manage - they don't know how to sleep without pain flaring up bc the usual positions just don't work anymore, they have to relearn walking the stairs in a painless manner, whether changes are number one enemy, riding in anything is a nightmare bc the roads are bumpy, sitting apparently can cause pain too not to even mention walking. And all the fighting and acrobatics aren't as effective. They try to make others forget, trying to dance with Nina and Jes and sparring with Inej as if nothing happened. They want their life and self worth back

Before, they were known for keeping Kaz at a distance, which doesn't change at first. They still bicker, the reader is still distrustful. But I think he would be helpful. Not out of kindness, especially at first, but out of convenience. He can’t have them messing things up and so it starts small with offhand tips. Just enough not to have them get killed. Later, perhaps, they start talking more and the reader isn't sure if Kaz is still just the ruthless asshole they have to work with

To be fair, I don't have much plot. I just have my love for bittersweet stories and my messed up leg to provide inspiration. Also, don't care what you do with the gender, I used they/them to make in neutral but I don't really care. I know this request is long. No pressure if you don't like this scenario

-☆

My apologies for this taking so long. I was just scared that I wasn’t gonna do this justice. I hope it’s at least somewhat close. 🥺😫

Broken dreams

Playing a part was always hard. Fitting different masks. Making sure they didn’t slip. Always a smile. Always a careless, wild girl. But she just died last year. She was beaten. Broken to bits. Tossed aside. Left to die in that ally. To rot. Forgotten. Would anyone have come looking for you? Would have missed you? Grieved you? They killed the innocent girl that day. Left a broken shell of a woman in her way.

“Come on one more”, Nina pulled at your hand breathlessly. You quickly shoot her a smile, pushing the demons running in your mind aside. “We just sat down”, you chuckled while in reality, the idea of being up on your feet was making you want to turn to the side and vomit. “Oh, come on, we used to dance all night long, remember?”, she tossed her head back, downing her drink. “Jasper always steps on my toes, I need you to save me from that”, she cackled. Your eyes followed Jasper who was turning Wylan around. How much has everything changed in the time you were gone? It felt as if you no longer belonged. As if this version of you didn’t belong here anymore. “Are you feeling okay?”, Nina’s worried eyes watched you and you instantly nudged her, “Morning my freedom now that you’ve pretty much left your boyfriend for me”, you teased her. Happy to see her laugh. Off the hook then. “Lead the way”, you urged her. You could dance. Then down half the bottle of painkillers. Snatch one of the absolute bottles from Kaz’s drawer. It would work. You just had to pretend for a bit longer.

The pain was unbearable once you finally excused yourself. Sobbing the whole way back to the den. The agony felt like tongues of flames. No longer just in your legs. All over your body now. You slumped against the door. Letting yourself breathe. Trying to breathe. Only twenty sets of steps. It used to be only. Now it felt like twenty too many. Ot aggravated you. You wanted your body back. Wanted your freedom back. Wanted to be able to do things that others did. You just wanted it all to stop.

“Back early”, the voice makes you halt. Eyes growing big, you wipe your face before turning around, “Been a while since I drank so freely, Nina is also too persuasive”, you shoot a somewhat dazed smile at Kaz, who’s leaning against the the hallway arch. “You used to dance till early morning sun”, his words meet the target in a blind shot. Making your eyes sting once more. “You used to be more quiet. Don’t want to crawl back to your hole?”, it’s bitter. So bitter because he had learned to live with his pain. You were jealous of that. You had hoped that by watching him you would learn some tricks. How to navigate things that were easy once but brought you pain now. You learned to walk down the stairs because of him. Of watching him.

“You’ve changed”, Kaz’s eyes don’t leave you as he speaks. “Rich coming from you”, you let out a chuckle, locking the outside door. “You’re defensive”, he continues to push, “You were never defensive with me. We argued. You tested my patience but you never bit me”, you hear the sound of his cane, then the smooth steps. “Why are you biting me now, YN?”, Kaz asks. “Don’t make everything about yourself, Kaz”, you turned around swiftly, feeling your legs dip slightly beneath your weight. But you bite back the cry of pain, stepping forward. Hoping to escape him. But Kaz’s cane comes in front of you blocking your way.

“You don’t get to walk away”, he grunts, turning his head to you. “I’ll ask this once”, his voice low, lethal, “So take your time to think”. You can feel him. Feel his eyes when he asks, “Who hurt you?”. The anger takes flight within you. Sending traitorous tears falling down your cheeks, “If I have an idea they would be six feet under”. He had played his part. Made you open the throbbing wound up for him to see. “They captured me. Broke my knees. I couldn’t…”, the words tumble freely, as you hide your face in your palms. “Why didn’t you say anything?”, his tone is blank, emotionless.

“What was I supposed to say?”, you crock out in frustration, “I was worthless then. I was of no use”. Kaz clenches his jaw, “So you hide the truth from me?”. You can’t help but growl in frustration, “I did the job you gave me. I got you what you wanted, what else do you want from me for fuck sake”.

And it’s a matter of heartbeats as your back hits the wall, Kaz’s cane now pressed against your chest, “I don’t give a fuck about the job”, he spats, veins visible in his tense neck now. “We could have gotten you a good doctor, could have…”, he grunts, “Did anyone look at the injury at all?”. You look at him for a moment. You could lie but what’s the point? “Some passing by a doctor”, you admit, “Fixed what he was able to, wished me luck, and left”.

Kaz shakes his head as he steps back, “How bad is the pain?”, “You want to bask in it?”, you clip right at him. “I should throw you out. Make you pay for ruining your own body so carelessly”, he hisses, “Legally you are mine. I own you. So your legs are mine to worry about”. You scoff, “How sweet of you, my gods”. Kaz’s gloved hand catches your jaw, the touch starts you both it seems. “I’m mad at you because you should have spoken up. I would have helped you. Would have dropped everything and made my way to you”, Kaz snarls through gritted teeth, “You’re starting physical therapy from tomorrow. That’s an order”, he steps back, pulls at his west. You blink up at him, knowing that you should say something. Anything. He would have come to you. But was it true? “If you ever pull anything like this ever again…”, Kaz doesn’t finish but you know well what his words imply, “I’ll see you in the morning at my office. Think well about the features of people who attacked”.

[lilacliquors]

pairing: soldier boy x reader

sweet or spicy: spicy

word count: 627

prompt: [TABLE]: sender touches receiver's thigh under the table at a restaurant or a dinner party

notes: here's day ten! i went a different angle with this one that i originally planned, and i liked it better. and there's only four more prompts to go, and i can't wait to write the phillip graves one like y'all have no idea omg

if there was one thing most people knew, it was not to seat you and ben next to each other at vought events. everyone knew how handsy ben liked to get, and with you, with was like a thousand times worse. you fed off of each other, like tossing wood onto a bonfire. and tonight was no different.

it was vought’s annual shareholder dinner, and whoever made up the seating chart was not let into the industry not-so-secret secret. you and ben were seated directly next to each other, and to most people’s surprise, things were going well. there was no fuss, no commotion, nothing out of the ordinary. you were both well behaved, and it was a breath of fresh air. people had heard horror stories of the two of you, and most didn’t want to believe them. but, there you two were, chatting people up and simply enjoying the atmosphere of the night.

little did anyone know, however, the tablecloth was hiding a little sin.

ben’s hand was resting on your thigh, creeping ever so closely up towards his major prize. the dress you wore had been picked by him specifically, and he was pleased to see that you had obliged his one request: you’d forgone any underwear that night. he could feel the heat of your cunt as his hand crept higher, and to your credit, you kept an amazing poker face as his fingers gripped and rubbed and squeezed the soft skin of your thigh. he almost wanted to break your facade, but at the same time, he wanted to keep this to himself. he didn’t want others to know that he was so dangerously close to the warmth of your pussy, he could practically taste it. and lord knows he wanted to. what he would have given to just lower himself to his knees, push your thighs apart, and bury his head between them, to lap at your folds and listen to the melodic sounds that left those gorgeous lips of yours …

but he was good. well, as good as he could be. and as his fingers continued to massage your skin, he couldn’t help but picture you, your hair wild and unkempt, the straps of your dress down your arms, your skin slick with sweat as you bounced desperately on his cock. he envisioned his hands on your hips, loosely guiding you as your own hand rubbed furiously at your clit. your head tilted back as soft moans and delicious whimpers left your plump lips. plump, of course, from the number of times he had captured them in a passionate kiss, his teeth nipping at them the way he knew you liked. you were his even match, enjoying the rough as well as the gentle. but you were his, he knew you in and out, in all ways. and his filthy imagination was only running more and more wild.

more vivid scenes flash in his mind: his hand covering your mouth as he fucked you from behind in the bathroom. your arms pinned above your head as he fucked into you slow and deep, missionary style. his head between your thighs as you rode his face, using him as you saw fit until you leaned down and were generous enough to take his cock into your wet and waiting mouth …

he gripped your thigh in a vice like grip, and it caused you to finally look over at him, a small smile on your lips.

“active imagination again?” you whispered.

“you have no idea. when we get back home, you’re mine. in all ways. do i make myself clear?” he murmured back, and you took a sip of your wine before you leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“crystal.”

[devilart2199-aibi]

I know I already said this prior to you, but I adore your Stunticon designs so much and feel an absolute rush of joy when I see you post art of any of them. I yearn for more information on your AU versions of them, and what happens to them all when they get to earth.

Where does Dead End go when he helps Breakdown, where do Motormaster, Drag Strip and Wildrider go after the split up in the team and how do they all handle it? They're all connected through the gestalt bond, which makes a gestalt closer than any other cybertronians, and how do they handle Motormaster hurting Breakdown, and then losing two of their own?

Does Motormaster ever regret what he did to Breakdown?

Thank you again! Hearing your interest in my AU really does make me so happy!! 🥺💕 So feel free to ask away! I've been pretty busy recently so I haven't had any time to work on the au sadly. But let's answer some questions now! With some drawings!! >:3

Also long post warning! !

"Where does Dead End go when he helps Breakdown?"

In short, undecided atm! But this is what happened if he was planning to leave with Breakdown:

Dead End and Breakdown agreed on a meeting spot a bit outside the Stunticons base. But when Breakdown doesn't show up for a long while, Dead End figured he got cold feet and began heading back to base only to get a coms transmission from MotorMaster telling him to meet up with Dragstrip and Wild Rider who are currently in pursuit of Breakdown!

Dead End would be wayyyy behind the others and only end up catching a glimpse of Breakdown and Knockout being apprehended by the Autobots, the other Stunticons long gone.

Dead End wasn't really sure what he would do now. It seemed like the others didn't know he wanted out like Breakdown. But what if they did? Does he risk it and go back? What was he going to do if the plan had gone smoothly even?

Well... he hadn't really got that far. He just knew he was tired, and Breakdown suggested an out. But joining another group of hot-headed 'Cons? Really?? He needed something different... maybe just... roaming around earth would be fun? It definitely has to be calmer than anything he's experienced the past few Megacycles.

For Dead End, since I wasn't sure if I would have him leave with Breakdown or not, I hadn't chose a story for him yet, though i did have a few ideas in mind.

"Where do MotorMaster, Dragstrip and Wild Rider go after the split up in the team and how do they handle it?"

They probably wouldn't go far, maybe just relocate their base. The remaining team would stick together for the most part. They're still the Stunticons, just... less.

MotorMaster would become hell-bent on getting the two back one way or another... or maybe even making them pay for such treachery to their team.

"How do they handle MotorMaster hurting Breakdown, and then losing two of their own?"

They were used to MM's intimidation techniques to get them back in line, but nothing like this. Sure he'd give 'em a good toss, smack or yelling at, but this, this was something else.

For Dragstrip he'd think to himself "What did Breakdown think would happen if he told MM him off and ditched the team? What a fool" as a kind of way to make sense of the situation. He'd definitely stand a bit further from MM than before.

As for Wild Rider, he loved a good fight. Heck he didn't mind killing a few bots! But never each other. He got an uneasy feeling from the whole thing.

For Dead End, they always remember him voicing his annoyance and tiredness with everything, but they never actually thought he'd do anything about it.

"Does MotorMaster ever regret what he did to Breakdown?"

Sadly not. He probably only regrets not being able to see Breakdown's desire to leave sooner. Not that he'd know what he'd do then.

And I think that was it? Thanks again for the questions and curiosity towards my au!! :3

[steddieasitgoes]

Stolen Kisses & Sundae Wishes

3.4K Words | Teen and Up | ao3 link

This was written for day three of @steddie-week. The prompts I used were first kiss and discover! As always it ended up way longer than I intended! You can read it below or on ao3. Enjoy!

"You know this basement used to be mine before Mike took it over?" Nancy says, looking around the cluttered basement fondly.

"Those little thieves," Eddie teases, stretching out on the worn, scratchy blue carpet.

They're all gathered in the Wheeler's basements — the kids banished to the Byers' new place for the weekend — to celebrate one last hang out before their lives change for the better. Nancy leaves for Emerson tomorrow afternoon. Argyle and Jonathan to New York on Monday. Robin, Steve, and Eddie scheduled to get the keys to their new apartment near Indiana State in a little over a week.

They're growing up.

And yet, the basement looks like they're still kids who don't know what they're doing with their lives.

The coffee table is piled high with pizza boxes and other snacks. A soda can tower barely hanging on as Robin adds another empty Coke can. The basement should be filled with beer cans and Palm Tree Delight joints, but none of that stuff has the same effect on them it once did. Getting drugged by Russians, making a drunken scene at parties, and waking up from on bad drug-enhanced nightmare has them all acting a bit more sober than usual.

Still, there's a rawness in the air that Steve's only used to being around at parties when everyone is under the influence, feeling happy and chatty.

"I had my first kiss right here," Nancy says, patting the paisley couch.

"Oh, are we talking about first kisses, brochachos?" Argyle asks, sitting up from where he's been sprawled out under Mike's designated DnD table. "Mine was wild."

"I'm sure it was," Jonathan says, rolling his eyes at his best friend. "But I don't think Nancy meant for everyone to share their stories."

"Aw, come on, my dude. It'll be fun!"

“I don’t know Argyle. I think Jonathan’s right on this one,” Steve chimes in.

It’s not the answer everyone was expecting from him by the way everyone’s heads whirl around to face him. Sure, he spent his high school years making out in crowded Hawkins High hallways, not caring who was watching. But this feels different.

First kisses are special and awkward, and well, if he’s honest, Steve doesn’t want to hear Eddie wax poetic about his first kiss like he knows he’ll do because Eddie is a storyteller. He doesn’t know how to tell them anything unless it’s woven with dragon slaying and metaphors that go over Steve’s head.

Last week, Robin had to give him the SparkNotes version of Eddie’s terrible interview after Eddie went on a ten-minute rant about the horrors of job interviews.

“Now we have to hear your first kiss story, Stevie. It must be really terrible if you don’t want to share with us,” Eddie teases, sitting up from the floor.

“Hate to break it to you, Munson, but it wasn’t anything exciting. Just an innocent first kiss in a dark room. I don’t even know what she looked like.”

Eddie groans, tossing his head back onto the empty space next to Nancy on the couch. His hair flops around him, draping over her thighs. “You’re the worst storyteller ever! Come on, Wheeler, paint us a picture of your first kiss. Show Stevie how it’s done.”

Steve doesn’t think Nancy is going to take Eddie’s bait, but she does, and Steve’s reminded yet again that he really has no idea what goes on in Nancy Wheeler’s head. Never did and never will.

Nancy goes on to tell them about Connor Fritz. They were childhood best friends before his family moved when his mom got a better teaching job at Northwestern. The basement was their post-school hangout, but unlike Mike and his friends, all they ever got up to down here was homework until one summer afternoon.

“We were supposed to go to the pool but stayed in instead. It was our final day together before he moved, and he was really nervous. I was too. We were starting middle school in a few weeks, and now we were going to be totally friendless. And kiss-less since we didn’t go to Carol’s 11th birthday party.”

“The spin-the-bottle party,” Steve snorts in remembrance. He still has no idea how Carol convinced her parents to leave them unattended in her basement for hours. It’s a good thing they all thought kissing was sex at that age. If not, well, Steve’s certain at least one kid would have been conceived in Carol’s game closet.

“The very one,” Nancy smiles. “So anyway, we were just talking about how mad we were that we weren’t going to be there for each other, and then he said something like, “well, I can still help you with one thing,” and then he kissed me.”

“That’s the sweetest first kiss story ever,” Robin coos from the floor. She’s lying on the same itchy blue carpet as Eddie, her head using Steve’s lap as her very own pillow.

It’s easy from their position for Steve to glance down at Robin to check in with her. Robin has her own streak of jealousy that runs through her, so he can’t imagine this conversation is any fun for her either. Instead of finding her lips pressed thinly together and a vacant look in her eyes, though, he finds her smiling.

Huh? She’s stronger than me, he thinks.

“What about you, Robin?”

“Oh me?” Robin laughs dryly, lifting her head out of Steve’s lap and pushing herself up into a seated position next to Steve. “I mean, I guess it was at summer camp in 1980 with this kid whose name I don’t even remember. But uh, I don’t really think it counts since I don’t exactly, you know, like kissing guys.”

“What’s the girl story then?” Eddie asks.

Without hesitating, Steve reaches a hand out to Robin. Lets it rest on her crossed thigh before giving her a reassuring squeeze.

This is also why he didn’t want this conversation to take place.

“It, uh, hasn’t happened yet.”

“No need to fret, Robin Hood! There will be plenty of dudettes to mack out with at that fancy school of yours. So many little fishies waiting for your lips.”

Robin snorts, shaking her head. “I hope your right,” she says, ducking her head for a moment. “What about you, Argyle?”

“Picture this, my dudes,” he says, hopping up onto his feet. “You’ve got Palm Tree Delight in one hand, a beautiful girl holding your other hand. The sky is doing that weird painter with the missing ear thing it does when all the colors start twirling together. And then everything starts spinning, and the next thing you know you’re in the grass with a beautiful girl on top of you, and she’s not just kissing you for Purple Palm Tree Delight, but she’s kissing you because she wants to taste your lips.”

“See, that’s how you tell a story!”

“Thanks, my dude.”

Eddie hops up on his feet, crossing the small distance to high-five Argyle. Their hands’ clasp in the moment, turning the innocent high-five into a weird handholding moment that neither seems to want to break.

Steve absolutely isn’t jealous.

“Yeah, well, not all of us are storytellers, Munson.”

“Allow me to give you a lesson in storytelling then,” Eddie says, finally prying his hand free from Argyle’s grasp. He saunters into the middle of the basement and gestures with his hands. “Everyone take your seats, please.”

Robin snorts as she crawls over to the couch, taking a seat on the floor where Eddie previously sat. Nancy’s still perched on the couch next to Jonathan, and Argyle collapses to his left. Steve’s the last to find his spot, making himself comfortable next to Robin.

“First, you start with the set up,” he says, talking directly at Steve before moving to address the rest of them. “It was 1976. I was ten years old, and I was in Hawkins visiting Wayne for the summer. Usually, my dad would bring me out to visit for a few days, but he got caught up with “work,” you know, hot-wiring cars and stripping them for parts, so I spent the whole summer here with Wayne.

“It was a humid July day. The air thick and hard to breathe,” he says, pausing to turn to Steve again. “A good story always has details about the senses, Stevie.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but keeps listening.

“I remember I was covered in sweat ‘cause Wayne had the day off and needed to patch up the patio of the trailer after I tore it up, saving a raccoon family. Course, I had to help. I was sweating buckets. My hair was shoulder-length at the time, and it was sticking to me, and so was everything else.

“We finally finished as the sun was setting and Wayne must’ve felt bad for keeping me hostage all day — not like I had anywhere else to go, really. Everyone already had their own friends in Hawkins. I was just some weird outsider who liked to feed raccoons. So, he felt bad and told me to take a quick shower ‘cause he was taking me out for ice cream.

“I’m thinking he’s taking me to the new Dairy Queen that I saw on the way into Hawkins a month ago. But no, the old man takes me to some rundown, hole-in-the wall ice cream parlor in the old downtown of Hawkins. The part they eventually tore down for Starcourt.

“And this place. Man, I’ll never forget it. It was like ice cream threw up inside. Every wall was painted after a different ice cream. And not the normal ones, either. There was a rainbow sherbet wall and turtle tracks one. A giant abstract sundae mural behind the counter.

“Jesus H. Christ and the name! I was only 11, but even I knew the name was an issue. I mean, who names an ice cream shop The Lick —-

“N’ Bite,” Steve supplies.

There’s a sinking feeling in Steve’s stomach when Eddie turns towards him again. Eddie hates being interrupted, a fact Steve knows because he’s constantly getting reprimanded for interrupting Eddie’s story flow. Whatever the hell that means. But the look Eddie’s giving him isn’t his usual one of annoyance; it’s one of pure curiosity.

“You know it?”

Steve nods. “Tommy’s mom used to take us there after basketball practice.”

“Huh, wouldn’t expect to see your type at a dive ice cream shop,” Eddie shrugs, then launches back into his story.

There’s another five minutes of Eddie describing all the flavors he sampled that day in great detail — “they had this one called fresh and clean that tasted like Wayne’s laundry detergent. I was so convinced it was one of the ingredients!” — before Eddie finally gets to the kiss side of the story.

“Wayne’s catching up with the only guy working the place, and I really want another scoop of Sinful Cinnamon, so I figure, what the hell? I’ll scoop it myself. But there’s none left in the tub, so I head into the back. There’s this giant walk-in freezer in the back that has all the tubs in it, and it’s cracked open.”

The sinking feeling in Steve’s stomach returns as Eddie keeps talking. He tries not to squirm next to Robin, doesn’t want to draw any attention to himself, but he can feel his heart beating faster and faster as realization hits Steve.

“Didn’t you used to hide out at an ice cream shop when your parents started arguing?” Robin whispers.

Steve nods, too scared of what his voice will sound like if he answers verbally.

"The damn door closes behind me, and it's pitch black in this room, right. And it's cold. So fucking cold. I thought my eyes were going to freeze over. Course, the door is locked from the inside, so I'm thinking, great, I'm going to die in a damn ice cream freezer, and my dad is gonna have my uncle arrested for child endangerment even though my dad's done way worse when I catch something out of the corner of my eye.

"Next thing I know, there's this kid standing in front of me. I thought I was hallucinating! All I could see were a pair of light-colored eyes in front cause everything else was so dark, but then he lamely asked if I was here looking for ice cream too, and I knew I didn't imagine him cause, dammit he would have said something a lot cooler if I was."

“What else was I supposed to say? I was a kid!”

Eddie whirls around so fast, his legs tangle as he moves to face them, but mostly Steve. Robin’s mouth is open wide beside Steve, jaw unhinged like she’s about to have it broken in two by fucking Vecna. Steve can’t see Nancy, but he can tell by the quiet “oh my gods” she’s uttering that not even she was expecting this plot twist.

“You were there?” Eddie shouts, voice high pitched and eyes wide in utter disbelief.

“Woah, my dudes,” Argyle says, glancing between the two of them. “You guys were both locked in the ice cream freezer together? That’s wild.”

“They weren’t just locked in there, Argyle,” Jonathan hisses, elbowing him in the ribs. “They’re each other’s first kisses.”

“That can’t be true!” Eddie throws his hands in the air and begins pacing. “Steve said his first kiss was with some girl in a dark room. That’s not what I’m describing!”

“I mean, I thought it was a girl. They had long hair, and I didn’t know any guys who had long hair back then,” Steve says, pushing himself up to his own feet. He doesn’t start pacing, though, feet frozen to their spot on the floor instead. “But I did have my first kiss in an ice cream freezer. That’s why it was dark.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s, uh, that’s a little weird, but we don’t know if it was the same ice cream freezer.”

“Do you regularly make it a habit of getting locked in ice cream freezers, Munson?” Steve snaps.

He doesn’t know why Eddie is reacting like this. A minute ago, he was fondly recounting the story of kissing some boy in a freezing cold ice cream freezer, and now? Now he’s trying way harder than he ever did in school to prove he didn’t kiss Steve. As if kissing Steve is a bad thing?

Is it a bad thing?

Sure, Eddie and Steve are friends now, but maybe there’s a part of Eddie that still hates Steve for who he was in high school.

Maybe, learning that Steve took this precious first from Eddie is the final straw.

“Hey, guys, why don’t we give them a minute to work this out?” Nancy says, already yanking Jonathan and Argyle up from the couch.

Robin hesitates as she looks at Steve. He knows she’s giving him an out, but he doesn’t take it. Gives her a small nod and a tight lip smile in return and sends her up the steps after Nancy and the guys.

When Steve turns back around, Eddie’s on the couch, head buried in his hands. He takes a deep breath before carefully lowering himself onto the opposite side of the couch.

“Everything okay over there, Munson?”

“Pretty far from it, Harrington.”

Steve tries not to wince at the mention of his last name. It’s been months since Eddie’s called him anything but Stevie in that annoying tilt of his voice. But here the ugly nickname is again. Driving a dagger straight through Steve’s heart.

Steve tries to assess the situation. Digs deep into that retired athlete's brain of his and tries to come up with a game-winning plan for how to navigate this conversation. But Steve's never been good with words. It's a lot easier to find the winning move when there are actual pawns to move instead of random letters spiraling through his brain.

The way he sees it, he has two options.

Option one: apologize. For what? Steve’s not sure, but that’s never stopped him from apologizing before. It’s not the ideal plan, but it’s the only plan Steve thinks will get Eddie to look at him again. And damn, does he miss Eddie’s eyes looking at him.

Option two: take the once-in-a-lifetime shot and tell Eddie the secret he’s been harboring since a certain March night when a broken bottle was dangerously close to his throat.

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“For what it’s worth, it was a great kiss.”

“Don’t bullshit me, man!” Eddie groans. “This is embarrassing enough as it is.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize kissing me was so embarrassing,” Steve winces, recoiling in on himself.

“That’s not—“ Eddie groans again as he finally pulls his hands away from his face. He takes a moment before he turns to face Steve. “Why aren’t you more embarrassed? I mean, your first kiss was with a guy. Doesn’t that weird you out?”

“No? You know I don’t care about that stuff.”

“Yeah, but this is different. This isn’t Robin kissing Vickie or me kissing some random guy at a club. This is you! Patron Saint of Heterosexuality, Steve Harrington, having his kiss virginity stolen by some guy!”

“You didn’t steal it! I kissed you if you remember the rest of the story,” Steve says, jabbing his finger into Eddie’s scarred bicep. “And I’d do it again, because I’m not the Patron Saint of Hetereo—whatever it is you said!”

Steve's not sure how to describe the sound Eddie emits from the depths of his throat. It's a shill, almost demogorgon-like, but it lacks the danger that comes with a screech like that. Eddie's eyes are big and wild, pupils taking over every inch of the rich, warm brown Steve's come to lose himself in.

“What are you saying, Steve?”

Steve shifts closer to Eddie on the couch, eyes glued to the shell-shocked expression on his face.

It’s now, or never, he thinks. The seconds are ticking by, and he has to take the shot now if he wants the satisfaction of the win.

“I like you, Eddie,” he whispers, loud enough for Eddie to hear but not loud enough for Robin and the rest of them to hear if they’re spying on them. Which he’s willing to bet they are. “I’ve liked you since March, and I spent the entire summer of 1976 liking you before I even knew who you were.”

“Steve, that’s—” Eddie shakes his head. “That’s ridiculous, you didn’t even know what I looked like. You thought I was a girl! It could have still been a girl! We don’t know for sure it was you I kissed!”

“Maybe this will help.”

Steve scoots closer, closing the gap between them but leaving enough space for Eddie to move away if he wants. He waits for a moment, and then another and only starts to lean in when Eddie gives him the smallest nod of his head.

Eddie shakes under Steve’s steadying hand as it moves to cup his cheek. He lets his thumb trace over the still-healing flesh of his scars as he tips Eddie’s head subtly to the left. And then Steve leans in, hot breath fanning over Eddie’s face. He watches Eddie’s eyelashes flutter shut and only when he’s certain they’re closed does he press his lips to Eddie’s.

It’s soft and tentative.

Maybe even a little bit awkward.

But then Eddie presses into him ever so gently, and the sparks fly.

Steve’s entire body breaks out with goosebumps. The same way they did all those years ago in the freezer, except this time, it has nothing to do with the arctic temperature.

They keep kissing. Gentle pecks, nothing more.

Steve’s too scared of scaring Eddie away with how deep his want is, and Eddie, well, Steve’s not entirely sure what’s going on in Eddie’s head, but he imagines he’s still reeling from this new discovery.

When they finally pull away, Eddie’s smiling. Dimples deep and on full display. He’s got a mischievous glint in his eye that Steve’s come to love from afar, but now that it’s directed at him? Well, Steve’s inside turn molten.

“Think our first kiss was sweeter, Stevie.”

Steve laughs and lets his head knock against Eddie’s boney shoulder as he buries his laughter in the crook of Eddie’s neck. “I did eat like three Turtle Track sundaes before I kissed you back then.”

Eddie hums. “Guess we better go get you a sundae then and try again.

Steve pulls away and looks at Eddie with his own face of bewilderment. “You want to? With me?”

“Steve,” Eddie jests. “I dreamt about the ice cream-flavored boy I kissed for years, until I found someone new to dream about in high school. Turns out, they turned out to be the same boy after all.”