#breaking. and so she's like nah man it's hurt/comfort time and he's like BUT YOUR BIRTHDAY and she's like do you really think i'm

[fxllfaiiry]

─ callin' it quits now, baby, I'm a wreck ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: the aftermath of the argument with miguel.

✶ warnings: angst, hurt with comfort, occ miguel (for one scene only dw), shitty humour, one or two swear words, reader being slightly mean, mentions of death.

✶ notes: part two of "you're the sunflower" this part was originally 8k words long and i was like nope, so i had to cut it down, I'm sorry. I really hope this isn't bad ‼️

At first, you didn't quit the team. 

After the blow-up with Miguel, you thought about leaving the team for good, but yet you decided to show up, hanging around for a bit before quickly leaving. 

But slowly you stopped showing up altogether. The looks of pity were too much for you to handle, and frankly, you deserve an apology, you deserved better.

Every day was torture, and seeing Miguel only made it worse. No one thought this whole ordeal would go this far. 

Everyone noticed the changes, you were more serious, and your usual sunshine self was gone at this point. Everyone noticed the day you stopped coming in. 

You felt so lonely, sure, you had friends in your universe but yet, nothing felt the same. You sometimes wondered if they missed you or not. 

It had only been a few weeks and yet it felt like months. 

A part of you secretly hoped someone from the team would show up at your doorstep pleading for you to come back, but nothing. 

"You'll get used to it eventually" You'd tell yourself. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It had been two whole months since you left. Nothing felt the same without you. 

"Does anyone else miss Sunflower?" Gwen said sadly. She missed your hugs, and your little girl talks with her, she missed everything about you.  

"We all miss her, kid," Peter sighed. Without you, he had no one to talk to about Mayday. 

"I hope she comes back soon," Miles said. 

"I think she just wants space right now," Pavitr replied.  

"This is all Miguel's fault y'know?" Hobie added bitterly, how dare Miguel take his friend away from him. 

"Someone should talk to him, maybe if he apologizes, she'll come back." Miles was hopeful, he knew you'd come back eventually. 

"Sure, kid. As if Miguel ever listens." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Miguel on the other hand was depressed. 

He'd gotten used to your presence and it felt odd without you.

He felt horrible about yelling at you but he was scared. The thought of you dying terrified him, and his way of dealing with that wasn't the best. 

He thought about apologizing many times, but he didn't know how to. The last thing he wanted was to cause more damage. 

"You know a simple "sorry" could fix this all right?" Lyla said, breaking him out of his trance. 

"It's not that easy, Lyla." He sounded so broken to his own ears. 

"Well, you gotta try, Boss." 

"Sunflower used to call me that." 

"You're joking, right? Wow, you really are pathetic." Lyla snorted. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Dude, you're in love with her. You are absolutely smitten." 

"Lyla, that's enough-" 

"No, you love her and that's why it's bothering you so much." 

"I don't-" 

"Nah, Lyla's right, you do love her." He turned around to see Jess standing in his office. 

"Jess, not you too, and where did you come from?" Miguel groaned, he did not love you. 

"The door…? Anyways, just try to fix things, the first step is you apologizing." Jess stated matter-of-factly. 

Miguel thought about it for a minute, these last few weeks had been pure torture for him, Jess was right, the first step is apologizing.

"Fine, I'll do it first thing tomorrow, but I don't love her." 

"Sure, whatever you say, man." Jess snickered. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You got somewhat used to your new life. It was the same old plain routine every day. You tried to throw yourself into other things. Finding new hobbies, jobs, literally anything. 

But eventually, it all started to feel okay.

Things were finally starting to look good for you. 

You thought about the spider society way less and finally started living your life to the fullest. 

You were moving on. 

Crime fighting was easy today. You got to hang out with your friends and an old lady gave you a cheerio, which is something. 

You swung around the city for a bit, enjoying the view and temporary peace. 

Soon it was time for you to head back home. You climbed in through your bedroom window and quickly changed out of your suit, slipping into more comfortable clothing.  

When you went downstairs to get some food, you weren't expecting to see Miguel O'Hara sitting on your couch. 

"Holy shit, what are you doing here?" You scared him, because he jumped violently at the sound of your voice. 

"I was here t-"

"Humiliate me further? Because I thought we were done with that." You felt bad saying that, but he deserved it. 

"No, I'm here to apologize." He looked down, ashamed. 

"It's a bit late for that, isn't it?" You chuckled bitterly, walking past him into the kitchen. 

"Just listen to me for a second." 

"I thought I was incapable of doing that." You muttered to yourself. 

He got up and strode towards you, but he received no acknowledgment of his presence. 

"I'm sorry for yelling at you in front of everyone; it was wrong and I shouldn't have acted so immaturely." 

"Uh-huh, it's fine. You can leave now, the door's right there." You weren't buying his ridiculous apology. Even a five-year-old could do better. 

"I understand you're mad, but please give me a chance." That was pretty much the last straw for you.

"I'm mad? You humiliated me in front of everyone! You made me feel like shit, you made me think I don't belong on the team! You're an asshole." You were screaming at him, taking out all the anger and sadness you felt in the past two months.

"I'm sorry." He sounded so small, so vulnerable, and for the second time in his life, he didn't know what to do. 

"The best you can say is I'm sorry? At least give me a proper explanation." You scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

"I'm in love with you." What? 

"Right, if you're here to joke around and mock me just leave okay."  You open up to him and he mocks you in return. Amazing.

"I'm being serious. I'm not mocking you or joking around, I'm in love with you. You want an explanation, so I'm giving you one." He breathed, looking at you hoping to receive some reaction. All he got was a small head tilt which he took as a sign to continue. 

"The reason I yelled at you was because I was scared. I thought you were going to die and that terrified me, I've lost everything, and I don't want to lose you too. I didn't know how to handle it, so I lashed out. I truly am sorry, Sunflower." You froze trying to process everything, was he telling the truth? 

"Lyla and Jess helped me realize my true feelings for you." He whispered. 

When you said nothing for a few minutes he started to get scared, he was ready to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to. 

"Can you… say something? Please?"

"I can't forgive you just yet." He would never admit to what happened next but he started sobbing. All this was too much, being vulnerable was an unknown feeling to him. 

"Woah, wait hey, don't cry. Let me-" Before you could finish your sentence he fell to his knees, arms clutching your waist like a lifeline. 

You were beyond confused, you thought this whole interaction was some sort of weird dream. Miguel O'Hara down on his knees, for you? Wow, two months ago you would've scoffed and rolled your eyes at that. 

Nonetheless, you ran your fingers through his hair trying to soothe him. 

"Miguel, honey, listen to me. Just because I'm not ready to forgive you now, doesn't mean I never will." His face was still squished against your midriff, and his breathing was slowly returning to normal, with a few sniffs here and there. 

"So, you'll come back?" Seeing him in such a state broke your heart, you were still upset with him but were willing to give him a chance. 

"Yes, I'll come back tomorrow." At that, he smiled properly for the first time in weeks. 

He stayed there for a few moments, letting you comb through his hair gently, he would cherish this brief moment forever. 

"I should get going then. The multiverse needs saving." He said hoarsely, standing up, he was slightly embarrassed by this side of him. 

"Maybe use the door this time." He lightly chuckled at your statement, the warm feeling took over him once again.

Miguel did not want to leave, he wanted to stay here with you, but he knew that wasn't an option right now.

Before he left he had to get one last thing off his chest.

"Could you, not tel-" 

"Tell anyone about this? Don't worry, this stays between us only." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Everyone was surprised to see you back the next day. 

The second you walked in, everyone was all over you, hugging you and filling you in on everything you missed. It felt good to be back. 

"I'm so happy you're back," Gwen whispered, hugging you tightly. 

"I'm happy to be back, Gwendy. I missed you guys so much." 

"Hey quit hogging Sunflower, it's my turn to hug her now." Miles huffed impatiently. 

"Me next!" Pavitr bounced enthusiastically. 

"Hey, not cool. I called dibs, man." Hobie groaned. 

"Hey, Sunflower, I have some new pictures of Mayday to show you." Everyone was so excited to see you again, it was chaotic, but it felt like home. They were your family. 

Miguel watched the scene from afar with a smile, he was glad everything was okay now. 

"So you fixed things up with her, huh?" Jess said, popping up behind him, once again taking him by surprise. 

"¡Ay, coño! Jess, stop doing that." 

"Sorry, not my fault you don't have a spidy sense." Jess hummed. "So, how did you get her to forgive you?" 

"I have my ways." 

"You got down on your knees and begged her, didn't you?"

"How did you know?" Miguel whisper-yelled. That was supposed to be a secret. 

"I have my ways." Jess winked. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 

In a few weeks, everything was back to normal, you were back to your old self again. 

Except for the fact that you and Miguel were now closer than ever. That was new. 

You were always by his side, sticking close to him and he felt comfortable around you, always relaxed in your presence. 

He wasn't sure if you forgave him just yet, but he was willing to wait for as long as you needed. 

He did small things to show you he cared, sometimes it was bringing you coffee, other times it was giving you your favorite flowers. 

You knew he was sorry, and in your heart, you forgave him a long time back. 

So, you finally decided to tell him. 

You guys were in his office having lunch, he didn't like to eat out in the cafeteria. You both would usually sit in silence enjoying each other's company. 

"Hey, Miguel." 

"Hm?" 

"I forgive you." 

He raised his eyebrows in confusion taking a moment to realise what you meant. When he finally got it, his eyes widened almost comically. 

"Oh, you do?" He was trying to hide his smile but failed horribly. 

"I forgave you a long time back, but I just… needed some time." You nodded.  

"I understand that. Thank you for giving me another chance." 

"Actually, to forgive you fully, I want one thing from you." You declared, confidently. 

"I'll do anything, Sunflower." He'd indeed do anything for you. 

"I want you to go out on a date with me." 

His brain stopped working. You were asking him out on a date. 

"Miguel? Is that a yes or no?" You grew nervous at his lack of response. Did you cross boundaries? You thought he liked you. 

"I would love to." You quickly beamed at his response, after months of waiting it was finally happening. 

"So, how about tomorrow, at 7?" You giggled. 

"Sounds perfect." He sighed, softly smiling. 

He couldn't wait for tomorrow. 

#📂 ‧₊˚ my works .ᐟ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 17

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

AN: Ready for some feels? ❤️‍🩹

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,500 Tags/Warnings: Angst, injuries, hurt/comfort and feels, tinge of spice.~

Part 17: “The Real Deal”

The first time Dean was awake for longer than a few minutes, he asked about you.

Sam wasn’t surprised. He was frankly relieved that he had an answer for his brother.

“She has carbon monoxide poisoning,” he said. Dean’s brows furrowed, but before he could start worrying too badly, Sam cut in again. “She’s okay. They’ve got her on 100% oxygen. Eileen and Andréa are with her right now.”

Dean nodded on a breath of relief, despite coughing himself. He still wore an oxygen mask, but he knew his exposure hadn’t been as bad as yours.

“CO poisoning’s no joke. Don’t let her take off that damn mask for anything until they clear her,” he said.

Sam raised a placating hand. “Don’t worry. She knows she’s got to stay put this time.”

Dean shook his head. You were so damn stubborn. He still couldn’t believe you’d dragged yourself out of bed within minutes of waking up, just to see him.

…Well, he could believe it, but he didn’t have to like it.

“Okay, do you need anything before Eileen and I run home to get you guys some stuff?” Sam asked.

He’d already drawn up a list for both you and Dean of things you two would need for the next couple of days in the hospital. Dean’s stay would likely be longer than yours.

“Nah, I’m good, man,” Dean replied.

He was still trying to find a comfortable position in bed. His back couldn’t fully touch the mattress, so he had to lie on one side or the other. Truth be told, it sucked. His head swam with the effects of the painkillers and antibiotics they were pumping him with, along with his head injury.

While his body wanted to keep sleeping, Dean wanted to see you. He wanted to make sure you were all right. He wanted to know what happened before the fire, and how you’d found out about Nick being Azazel’s son.

And he wanted to get you both home.

He wasn’t sure if he was going to get to do any of those things, any time soon.  

Sam saw his discomfort and frowned in sympathy. He went over to help Dean shift onto his other side. Dean shot him a look of annoyance, but Sam was firm.

“Let me help, or I’m calling Nurse Jeff,” he warned.

Dean's lips pursed. Jeff was nice and all, but Dean could concede this time. At least when it was his brother helping him, he didn’t feel like a complete invalid.  

“Andréa’s gonna stay with her?” Dean asked, while Sam helped him ease over and nodded at his question.

“Yeah. Ellen and Jo are on the way too. They’ll keep you company.”

Dean wanted to quip that he didn’t need a babysitter, but he held it in. It would be nice to see Ellen. He remembered seeing his father, briefly, before he fell back asleep. Sam told him John had gone back to the precinct to work out their protective detail, once you and Dean were eventually discharged from the hospital.

Over the last few hours, the rest of his team from Firehouse 25 had come in to see him in small groups, including Benny, Gordon, and Jack, Meg and Chuck, and Bobby himself, with his gruff worrying. Dean knew the Chief felt responsible anytime his firefighters got hurt, but Dean also knew the only one to blame was himself.

Still, he didn’t regret breaking ranks to go and find you. He’d never regret that choice.

Sam’s hand on his shoulder grounded Dean back into reality.

“Okay, I’ll be back,” said Sam.

Dean nodded, with a hint of a smile. “All right, Sasquatch. Get goin’ then.”   

Sam’s face betrayed his dry amusement…and a hint of fondness. He squeezed the shoulder he held, and hesitated, almost like he was steadying himself before he left his brother alone.

“Hey,” Dean said. He gave his little brother a true smile, if one edged with tiredness. “I’m okay. I don’t break easy.”

After a moment, Sam nodded. His lips flickered at a smile.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied, clearing his throat. Before they both might’ve succumbed to a dreaded “chick flick moment,” as Dean called them, there was a knock at the door. Ellen’s head soon peeked through into the hospital room. She smiled as soon as her gaze landed on Sam and Dean.

“There’s my boys,” she said. Sam welcomed her in, along with Jo, before he slipped out. The Harvelles brought food, of course, for you and Dean. And Ellen had bought some flowers.

Dean took off his oxygen mask and teased her a little. “Ooh, for me? You shouldn’t have.”

Ellen shook her head at his familiar antics. Jo came up on his other side of his bed and gave him a softer smile than usual. He tried to return it.

“These are for your girl,” said Ellen. “How’s she doin’? Have you been able to see her?”

Dean’s good humor dimmed. “She’s got carbon monoxide poisoning from the fire, but Sam tells me she’s resting. I haven’t been able to get over there yet.”

Ellen frowned, but she nodded and rubbed his arm. “Okay, well you just stay here and rest. I’ll go over and bring these to her, make sure she’s doing all right. Then I’ll come back and give you a full report. How’s that?”

Dean met her gaze with relief and gratefulness in his. “Thanks, Ellen.”

She nodded, giving him a motherly pat on the cheek. Maybe her brown eyes welled up with tears she would refuse to shed. And maybe Dean pretended he didn’t see them, knowing how she’d hate for him to call her out.  

“You two are gonna be just fine,” she said. Dean agreed with a nod and a smile. She left soon after with the flowers, discreetly wiping at her face.

When the door shut behind her, Jo took a seat beside his bed. She was looking around at the wires, the monitors, the minor burns and scrapes on his face, while trying not to look at the gauze spanning his upper back.

“How’re you really feeling?” she asked eventually, when she was able to meet his gaze.

Dean chuckled a little. “Like shit.”

She laughed too, though it soon ended in tears. She bit her lip against it, with her eyes squeezing shut.

Dean faltered. “Hey, none a’ that.”

It was an effort, but he reached for her shoulder. She clasped his hand there, then she held it between both of hers. Dean squeezed her hands.

“I’m okay. Scouts honor,” he said. He wished he didn’t have to keep telling people that, but here they were.

When she drew his hand against her cheek though, Dean internally sighed. He had to pull away.

Jo felt the loss of his hand, and of him. She looked up at him with sad blue eyes. Dean couldn’t answer her. Or at least, he couldn’t give her the one she wanted.

She ducked her head and tried not to cry harder.

“Jo,” Dean sighed. “Listen to me.”

She wiped at her face and managed to look up at him again. He was direct, but still gentle as he could be.

“You know I love you like family,” he said, “but you also know…I can’t be that guy for you.”

Her brows furrowed as she shook her head. “We had something, Dean.”

“We did,” he acknowledged. He could admit that much, even as he blew out a breath. “I fucked it up.”

At that, Jo’s face shifted towards resignation. “I did my fair share.”

“You were worried about me on the job, that’s all.”

“But you also didn’t fight for me. The second it got hard, you left and called it quits.”

“I know,” Dean admitted. He thought hard, and he nodded. He was a different man when he and Jo began. He hadn’t totally figured out what it was he wanted. He’d just known, instinctively, that it was different with her. He’d wanted to try to be more for her.

But, he’d let Ellen’s warnings and his own fears take over. He knew he’d been a coward, and at the time, he’d convinced himself that Jo was better off without that in her life. He knew now how that had just been a nice justification for breaking her heart.

“I know,” he repeated. “I guess I wasn’t ready for the real deal…but you’re the first one who made me want to try.”

Jo heaved a tremulous sigh, laced with tears that she brushed away from her face. She had already known it, deep down, but now she supposed she had closure. She knew now that he loved you, for real.

“And she’s the one who made it stick,” Jo supplied.

“Yeah,” Dean said. The truth was in his eyes. She’s the one.

After a moment, in which Jo locked away the rest of her heartbreak and denied herself a flash of jealousy, she wiped her face dry and looked up at Dean.  

“Then you rest up,” she said, with a small smile and red-rimmed eyes. “And whatever happens next, you better fight for her.”

Dean smiled back. He gestured at his prone form with a hand.

“And what do you think I’m doing here?”

“Looks to me like you’re sitting on your ass,” she quipped.

Dean laughed so hard he started coughing. Jo shook her head and helped him put his oxygen mask back on.

“God, you’re a mess,” she said.

Dean gave her a mock incredulous look. “Hey, no sympathy for the injured here?”

“If it was sympathy you wanted, you should’ve kept the mask on.”

Hours later, Sam and Eileen came back freshly showered and with plenty of clothes and necessities for you and Dean. And when his hospital room door opened, Dean fought through the haze of the drugs and his swimming head to wake up. He smiled at Eileen, who stepped through the door first. But then his eyes widened.

Sam carefully guided you in a wheelchair, with your oxygen tank rolling in next to you. You held the mask to your face, but Dean still spotted the edge of your smile.

Your eyes shone bright with unshed tears the closer you came. He had to clear his throat himself before he reached for your hand at the same time you held out for his.

“Hey,” you said.

“Hey, yourself,” Dean replied. He brought your hand to his lips and held it there. “How you doin’, sweetheart?”

“I’m okay, thanks to you,” you said, smiling, even though your voice shook. Tears slipped down your cheeks. Your lips trembled, and your face ducked down. “I’m so…so sorry.”

Dean frowned and squeezed your hand. “Don’t you do that. This isn’t on you.”

You shook your head, like you didn’t believe him. Or you didn’t want to believe.

He wasn’t having that.

“Hey, look at me,” he demanded. He tugged on your hand, until finally you did as he said. Your eyes were red and spilling over with tears. It made his heart clench, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Sam holding Eileen close. Both of them were getting emotional, though Sam was trying not to. 

Jo stood with her mother in the corner. While Ellen dabbed at her eyes, Jo had to avert her gaze. That part, Dean didn't notice, because his lips pressed together as he returned his attention back to you.

“You don’t gotta worry about me,” he said. “I’ll shake this in a few weeks. Tops.”

You nodded, but your denial was still obvious as your shoulders trembled. He could see there was no reasoning with you on this one, so he just tugged you closer—as close as you could get without leaving your wheelchair or taking off your oxygen mask.

He managed to reach for your face, soothing his thumb across your tear-stained cheek. You covered his hand and kept him there, for as long as he was able.

You were discharged from the hospital a couple of days later. It was a few more before Dean was able to join you. He wasn’t happy to learn that his head injury would put him out of commission for at least one to three months.

You wished he would be more fair to himself. He’d suffered a subdural hematoma after he was struck by the beam. The doctor officially labelled it a TBI, or a concussion, and he was already dealing with headaches and bouts of vertigo.

Not to mention the large second-degree burn that was only just starting to heal across his upper back. The doctor also warned that he might suffer some mood swings, due to the head injury.

Meanwhile, you were starting to recover from your cuts and yellowing bruises. Though the carbon monoxide had been driven out of your system, you still had your own headaches, nausea, and a lingering cough.

You both were a bit of a mess. Sam and Eileen had incredible patience, and you were so grateful for their help in those first days back home in Sam and Dean’s apartment. However, you couldn’t shake off your nature to help as much as you could in taking care of Dean while Sam and Eileen were back at work.

You knew your boyfriend wasn’t used to being catered to. He didn’t like being, what he deemed in his mind, “useless.” In your mind, that was just too damn bad. He was going to be cared for whether he liked it or not.

So you helped Dean adjust where he lied in bed for the third time this morning, arranging the pillows just so. All while you ignored his crabby mood.

“How’s that?” you asked, fluffing one more pillow between the small of his back and the headboard. You’d managed to find a way for him to sit up without his upper back touching the bedframe.

“Fine,” he said grumpily. He was channel surfing on the TV above his dresser. “And it was fine half an hour ago.” 

His mood was always dour after a shower; it meant you had to help him stand, and make sure he didn’t kill himself by slipping and falling. You sighed and brushed your fingers through his wet hair, mindful of the shaved and bandaged portion on the back of his head. He sure was an awful patient. 

“You used to like it when I joined you in the shower,” you tried to tease gently. He shot you a glance.

“Yeah, that was before I could barely piss standing up,” he replied. You rubbed his arm.

“Come on, babe. Don’t be like this. You’ll be healed up in a couple of months, and we can put this behind us,” you said. If he really wanted you not to feel guilty about his current state, then he was doing a bang-up job.

Dean turned to you then, and you understood the look on his face. Will it really be over?

You couldn’t fault him for it because you didn’t know the answer either. You both knew that Savage & Co. burning down was likely just another battle with Azazel, not the end of the war. 

And that was when John and Cas arrived for a visit, with the doorbell interrupting the silence. It was the first time they’d come together, and that told you one thing: this was more than a familial check-in.

You welcomed them into the apartment and made some coffee for everyone. Cas helped you get the mugs ready in the kitchen. Meanwhile, it gave John a moment with his son.

John dragged a desk chair over and sat by Dean’s side of the bed.

“How’s your head?” John asked.

Dean nodded, though his face said he wished people would stop asking him that.

“On the mend,” he replied instead.

John nodded in return. The space between them was awkward and quiet, except for the drone of the TV. Both men had their protective walls and their thoughts, but neither one was able to lower their guard.

When you and Cas came into the room with fresh coffee, it was a silent relief all around. You sat beside Dean in bed and handed him a mug of decaf. You might’ve claimed it was the real stuff, but Dean’s nose knew the difference; he didn’t play when it came to his coffee. Yet another reason why he hated being on these antibiotics. 

“So, let’s start from the beginning,” John said. He lowered his mug into his lap and looked straight at you. “What happened before the fire? Start from the very top of the day.”

You took in a deep breath and glanced at both Cas and Dean. Cas seemed encouraging, while Dean looked just as grave and interested as his father. 

You explained everything from the moment Marv came to give you his report, intended for Nick. You were going to just leave it with his assistant, but his office door had been open a crack, and you’d heard the voices within. You’d been curious enough to approach the door and listen in.

You recounted what you’d heard between Nick and the other man.

“We’re working together on this,” said Nick. “Keep an eye on the cop. Wait for an opportunity.”

“Together, huh? Azazel has his orders. You trying to take his place?” the other man replied. His voice was thin and nasal. You saw his profile, however. His eyes were dangerous.

Your eyes widened at the implications of his words though. Azazel?!

“Dad agrees with me. The guy’s not getting the hint, so we’ll need to remind him who really makes the rules,” Nick said.

Your eyes widened. Holy shit…Nick’s father is Azazel.

You clasped a hand over your mouth before the gasp could escape. A sharp breath still echoed through the hall. The men’s heads began to turn, but you did as well—away from the door and booking it down the hall as quietly and quickly as you could.

You remembered going back to your office, just to find Nick Savage waiting for you.

Dean’s grip on the bedsheets tightened when you told that part of the story. You tried to spare the details, but there were some things you couldn’t avoid…

A strong hand grabbed you and hefted you up. You felt a trickle of wetness rolling down the side of your face as you stared up into his. It must’ve been blood, but all you could focus on was the satisfaction in Nick’s eyes. Finally, they seemed to say.

But then he paused. Confusion was written across his face.

“Do you smell smoke?” he asked. You both saw it climbing under the door of your office.

It was a distraction that broke you out of your frozen fear.

On pure instinct, you jabbed at Nick’s ribs with your taser.

“After I…managed to get out of my office, that’s when I saw the smoke,” you said. Your voice became a tad more unsteady as the memories flit through your mind.

“It was chaos. People were getting trampled trying to get down the stairs…and when we saw the fire coming from below too, I barely made it out of the stairwell.”

You raised a slightly trembling hand to your mouth, but a warm hand slipped into yours, taking it from you. You met Dean’s furrowed brows and softened eyes.

“Come ‘ere,” he said quietly. You let him pull you towards him, against his side, and you blinked past the sting of tears.

“The rest you guys know,” you continued. “I couldn’t get out. Dean and his guys came and found me. He got hurt trying to get us out of there.”

Dean’s hand rubbed up and down your arm in comfort. He pressed a kiss to your forehead while you wiped at the few tears that managed to escape.

“Did you see Nick at all after what happened in the office?” John asked.

You shook your head. “No. I hope he burned to a damn crisp.”

“He’s officially missing, but his body hasn’t yet been identified from the remains at the building site,” said Cas.

That sobered you. You knew there were many people who hadn’t made it out of the building in time. You just couldn’t fathom the kind of person who would intentionally set that fire, damn the costs.

“What about the other man he was talking to?” John asked. You shook your head, but you provided a detailed description of him, from what you could remember: tall and lean, graying short hair, a nasal sounding voice.

“Any other details you can remember? Anything at all. Could be something you saw or heard, or even smelled,” John pressed.

Your lips pursed. The stress alone of reliving all of this was giving you a headache, not to mention making your chest feel tight. Your reply was a bit more clipped than you intended.

“What, other than the part where I was fighting for my life?” you said. “I think I gave a pretty good statement of the events, Detective.”

John paused. His mouth firmed, but he watched you with more sympathetic eyes. Dean saw that his father was trying to ease up. He rubbed your back in comfort again.

“All right, it’s okay,” said Dean. “You did good.”

You glanced at him and took a small, steadying breath. You relaxed a bit and met John’s gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you said, with sincerity. “If I remember something else, I’ll let you know.”

John nodded.

“That’s all right. We’ve got enough to arrest Nick Savage on assault charges, once we find him.” He shared a brief look with Cas. “In the meantime, we’ve got a couple of guys stationed outside the apartment building here. They’ll keep an eye on things.”

You and Dean nodded; it was a relief, but also disconcerting to know the police were watching you. A chime on your phone soon distracted you though. You reached over for where it lay on your nightstand and read the reminder notification. You turned to Dean.

“Ready for your pain meds?” you asked him. You saw the answer in the tightness around his tired eyes. You rubbed a soothing hand on his thigh. “You should eat something first though. Want some of the soup Eileen made?”

Dean shrugged, making an unenthusiastic sound. Your head tilted as you considered him. Then, an idea struck you.

“Ooh, I could make you a grilled cheese on the side,” you offered in a tempting tone. Your leading smile was just enough to get Dean to smile back, if more reserved.

“Hmm?” you prompted. “Come on, three different cheeses on some buttery bread…”

His smile became more genuine. “Okay, sounds good.”

You nodded and pat his thigh once more. You looked up at the detectives.

“You guys want lunch?” you asked. John started to shake his head, but Dean cut in.

“Trust me, you want to get in on this,” he said. The promise of your cooking managed to cut through some of the haze of his pain and discomfort.

Cas conceded first, with a nod. Though he got up from where he’d been sitting at the end of the bed.

“I’ll help,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. He soon followed you downstairs into the kitchen.

Again, it left father and son glancing at one another in silence. John was leaning elbows on his knees, hands folded. His lips drew upwards as he looked up at his oldest.

“Want some advice from an old man?” he asked.

“What’s that?” Dean replied.

John nodded, quirking a smile. “Hold onto that girl.”

A couple of weeks later, however, tensions were still running high. Dean was frustrated with his own inability, worsening with each bout of vertigo, and every time the pain in his skull necessitated a pill to cope with it. Part of it was also that he needed so much of your help when Sam was at work.

Every time Dean saw you cooking, cleaning, changing his bandages, reminding him to take his meds, helping him get around when he was feeling off…

He was grateful, more than you knew. He just couldn’t feel right about letting you do it all when he saw how tired you were. You were still healing up too. And he could only imagine how stressed you were after everything you’d been through in the past few weeks. Hell, in the past few months.

He felt guilty, and useless, and angry at how you’d gotten caught up in all this, and at Nick Savage and Azazel and everything in between.

So Dean now stewed in all of this while he sat watching mindless reruns of some dumbass show about fake ghost hunters, even though he was trying not to think of anything at all. Somehow he had nothing to do but think, even though the meds he was taking often made him want to crawl into bed and sleep.

You appeared from down the hall, looking and smelling like your nice floral soap after a shower, wearing nothing more than one of his old shirts. Your thighs were bare. Your hair was twisted up on top of your head, just asking to be taken down with a practiced hand. 

Dean liked the look of you.

Not that I can do anything about it, came a dull reminder.

You came around the couch with a roll of gauze and a medicated cream for his burns.

“Okay, Dean. Let’s go ahead and change the bandages,” you said, nodding at his back.

He was reluctant to move. He was finally somewhat comfortable sitting in the corner of the couch with a shit ton of pillows propped against his lower back. And he hadn’t told you this, but a headache had been building for the last hour. He’d been trying to wean himself off the pain meds.

“It can wait until Sam gets home,” he said. “Why don’t you relax? Take a nap or something.”

You frowned at him, tilting your head. “Sam works late every night. Doesn’t it make more sense to get it over with now?”

“You see it would, if you hadn’t already done it yesterday,” Dean replied, with a dry edge to his tone.

You arched a brow at him. You'd re-bandaged the burn across his back yesterday morning. It was now late afternoon.

“The doctor said once a day,” you said. “You want to get an infection?”

The back of Dean’s head pulsed with pain. He gritted his teeth in trying to ignore it.

“You want to get off my back? Literally?” he snarked.

You frowned at him and set down the medical supplies. Your hands went to your hips as you looked down at him.

“I don’t appreciate the attitude,” you said. “I’m just trying to help you.”

“I get that, but you don’t have to take care of me right now,” he said. “You can just let me watch this shitty-ass show in peace.”

Your brows knitted together. Both of you were stubborn, if in different flavors. You tried to come at it with a gentler approach, drawing near him to set a hand on his shoulder.

“I know it’s unpleasant, but you can’t change your bandages by yourself,” you said. Your thumb swept along his neck. You really hated seeing him in so much discomfort. “Don’t you want to get it over with so you can relax for the rest of the day?”

A sharper pain pulsed behind his eyes for a moment, making Dean take in a deeper breath through his nose. He could later admit, he lost patience with you (and his temper).

He turned off the TV and tossed down the remote.

“What is this compulsive need you have to control everything? Do everything?” he snapped. “Contrary to what you might think, I don’t need you to wipe my ass! Just give it a goddamn rest!”

Irritation was hot under his skin…until he actually looked up at your face. The open-mouthed look of shock, and hurt, your eyes welling up with tears as your hand fell away from his shoulder…

That’s when Dean knew this concussion was fucking with him.

There was no way he could be this much of an asshole, could he?

“Shit. Baby,” he tried, but you shook your head at him, making a negative sound when he reached for you. You walked away from him.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered. “Hold on!”

His first attempt to get off the couch was unsuccessful, and it made his head swim. He grimaced in annoyance, but he used the couch and the coffee table as leverage and pushed through onto his feet.

Once he knew he was steady, he thought he heard you in the kitchen. He found you there, trying to hide your face behind the open door of the pantry while you cried. It broke his heart, really.

“Sweetheart,” he called to you. His hand rested on your back, prompting you to look up at him with red, watery eyes.

“What now?” you asked. “Want to yell at me some more?”

Dean’s sad frown deepened as he tugged you closer, guiding you into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really am. I don’t know where the hell that came from.” 

Maybe the knife stabbing through the back of your head, 'cause you're too stubborn to take all your damn meds, came the dry edge of his conscience.

You held onto him as tightly as you dared while you pressed your tear-stained face into his chest.

“That wasn’t you, Dean,” you said. “I get that you’re in pain, and that you're frustrated, but you don’t have to white-knuckle it. Or take it out on me, for that matter.”

“…I know,” he agreed, laying a kiss on your forehead. “If it happens again, I give you full permission to slap me. Concussion be damned.”

You snorted at that, despite a couple more tears slipping down your cheeks. You wiped them away.

“I know I was being a bit pushy,” you said, with a sigh. “But Sam does work late. I’d feel like shit just lying around here waiting for him to help you. And I’m the reason this all happened anyway, so I might as well—”

“Wait. Stop,” Dean said. He pulled away so he could grasp your arms and look down at you. His brows furrowed, and his jaw worked. “What did you just say?”

You looked up at him, and he saw the vulnerability in your eyes. Your lips pressed together, and you averted your gaze.

“No,” he said, curling his fingers under your chin and lifting your face back up to his. He didn’t like what he saw.

“Okay. Sit with me,” he said. He guided you to the dining table, where he pulled out both chairs. After you sat, he raised a waiting finger to you, just so he could grab his prescription from the kitchen counter and down what should've been his morning dose of pain medication with some water. Then he returned to the table and sat across from you.

By the time he got you to look at him again, your eyes were already filled with tears. He took your hands in both of his.

“What happened to me wasn’t your fault,” Dean said at last. He’d said it before, but apparently it hadn’t gotten through your head.

“You disobeyed a direct order to find me,” you argued. 

“I would’ve gotten called to that fire no matter what,” Dean countered. Still, that didn’t seem to sway you.

“You don’t know what it was like,” you said. You squeezed his hands, and your voice shook. “When I saw you in the ICU…”

All those wires, the newly wrapped burns, the oxygen mask, his skin pale and clammy, and his eyes closed…

“Before you got to me, of course I was scared. For a minute there, I thought I was going to die,” you managed to say. His hold tightened on yours. “But in that room, it was…it was different. It was you, but it was also my grandfather all over again. And I was so damn afraid.”

After that confession, you crumbled once again.

Dean slid his chair forward and held you close. His fingers swept through your hair after taking down your haphazard bun. He managed to pull you into his lap and he shushed you gently.

He glanced up heavenward and actually asked George for the right thing to say to you right now, because he had no damn clue.

After a moment, he released a humorless chuckle.

“You wanna know fear?” he said. “When my dad told me what you’d found out about Nick. And when I got the call that the building was on fire, somehow, I knew you were still in there.”

His fingers brushed along the shallow cut above your brow that was still healing.

“You had to deal with that bastard by yourself. That alone pretty much kills me,” Dean admitted. “And if I hadn’t gotten to you when I did…I’ll never regret that. Ever. I’ll take the whole damn building on top of me if that’s what it takes.”

You leaned back and shook your head at him, but he took your chin between his fingers and stilled you.   

“But I told you,” Dean said firmly. “I’m not leaving you.”

Your eyes met his before you let out a shaky breath. Maybe this time you would believe him.

He leaned down and kissed you soundly, so you’d get the idea. Your hand reached up to caress his cheek, and you moaned when his tongue caressed yours. His hand tightened on your hip.

“Dean.” Your warning was gentle. The doctor hadn’t cleared this yet for him, and he knew it.

“Just a little bit,” he said, smiling against your lips. His hand slipped under your (his) shirt and teased the edge of your panties.

You sighed with conflicting need when you felt the pads of his fingers stroke you through the fabric. It also stroked your arousal back to life.

“Okay, bedroom,” you caved. “But go easy. I’m serious, Dean.”

He smirked and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“Oh, I’ll definitely be easy.”

AN: Lol trust Dean to push his limits there. 😅 We also got some closure on the Jo & Dean arc, some supportive Sam and Eileen, and some major feels.

In Part 18, Sam and John work together to try and pin down Nick and Daniel/Azazel, Law & Order style...

Next Time:

The charges included four counts of murder in the first degree: the murders-for-hire, enacted by Alastair Rolston.

Followed by attempted murder in the first degree, ten counts of murder in the second degree (those who had lost their lives in the most recent building fire), conspiracy to commit murder, arson, and if that weren’t enough, a charge each of attempted sexual assault and sexual harassment.

When the last two charges were read out loud in the courtroom, Nick looked visibly angry.

Sam glanced over at the defendant with thinly veiled satisfaction. Some days, it was difficult for him to come to work.

Today was not that day.

“All right, that is a laundry list of potential misdeeds,” Judge Deveraux remarked. He looked up at Nick Savage. “How does the defendant plead?”

At the prodding of his lawyer, Amelia Richardson, Nick spoke up.

“Not guilty,” he said. Though he rolled his eyes, as if this was a waste of his time.

“What’s the deal here, Mr. Winchester?” Judge Devereaux asked.

“The primary charges are murder-for-hire, your Honor,” Sam replied.

Keep Reading: PART 18

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[literallylexa]

DEAN X READER:

FOREVER AFTER ALL

IMAGINE SMUT

Imagine: You die and your life flashes before your eyes, how you met Dean Winchester. You wait for Dean to finally arrive in heaven. CONTAINS SMUT

💜•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••💜

BEFORE:

Scenes of your past flash before your eyes as you lay dying. The first time you met Dean Winchester you had already fallen in love with him.

“Hello this is my partner Agent Smith and I am also Agent Smith..uh no correlation.” Dean smiles at you. “We are following up on a missing persons case. Your friend, or uh roommate?”

The night before you had come home to your friend slaughtered. Fingers chopped off and a slit neck. “Yes, how can I help you?” You ask, a sad tone in your voice.

“Did your friend have any enemies? Anyone who would want to hurt her?” Dean asks.

“No. She was a very friendly person. However…I don’t know you might think I’m crazy but the nights leading up to her..murder.” You choke, “She was saying that she saw her ex boyfriend. But he’s been dead for almost 2 months now.”

“What was the name of her ex?”

••

You’re stuck in a salt circle. The ghost trying to get through to kill you. You clutch onto Dean’s jacket tightly, legs shaking. Even though you’ve only known him for a day, you trusted him. He was strong, handsome, confident, and comforting. “I got you. Nothing will happen to you. Sammy should be done any moment now.” Dean looks down at you with a soft smile. His green eyes making contact with yours, making you blush. The next second, the ghost burns away into thin air. Everything was quiet. You hug Dean, standing on your tippy toes to reach his neck. His thick, muscular arms wrapping around your small frame, holding your waist.

Sam and Dean leave town after that. “So ghosts, vampires, and just monsters are real, huh?” You ask Dean.

“Unfortunately…But hey, here’s my number. In case you see or hear anything. Call me immediately.” Dean grabs your phone and puts his number in. You blush even harder. “You can’t stay for longer?” You ask Dean, hope gleaming in your eyes.

“I’m sorry sweetheart but no. We gotta hit the road. Take care of yourself okay?”

You grab Dean by his shirt and pull him down to your lips. He’s taken by surprise by your actions, but ultimately pulls you in closer, grabbing your hips and grinds against his. His lips are soft and wet, crashing against yours you feel out of breath. “For the road.” You say breaking apart, face hot and red. Dean bites his lips and says goodbye, getting into Baby and driving away.

••

After that encounter, you started to hunt on your own, mostly giving hunters tips of locations and the possible supernatural creatures. “Glad you could make it.” You say to Dean. “You called, I answered.” He chuckles. You guys hug, you take a deep breath. It feels like the whole in your heart was filled again. Excitement, love, and arousal filled your body. Dean was the sexiest man you’ve ever seen. Not to mention having an amazing personality too. If only he wasn’t a hunter, maybe you’d have a chance to actually be together. His eyes linger for a little bit too long on your lips and breasts. As you walk in front of him to your apartment you can feel him staring at your ass too. “You want a beer?” You ask opening the fridge. “Always.” Dean looks around your apartment, picking up old pictures of you and your deceased dog. The room is silent, however the sexual tension between you two did not go unnoticed.

“So!” You exclaim tapping the table top. “What have you been up to?”

Dean takes a gulp of his beer and sets it down. “Oh you know the same old stuff. Hunting.”

“Speaking of hunting. Thats why I called you here. I’m pretty sure a demon is possessing my neighbor.” You say quickly, trying not to make the conversation even more awkward than it already is.

“What?!” Dean yells, walking over to you. “Nah uh you’re not about to have a demon next door. Pack up your things, we are staying at a motel until we get this figured out.”

••

Unfortunately for the bed, but fortunately for you, the motel only had one bed- no couch. “We can just share the bed.” You say sheepishly. Dean smirks, “There’s a lot of things we can share on the bed.” You giggle and punch his shoulder. He’s not lying though. There’s many things that you’d like to share with him on that bed. Many things.

You and Dean end up exorcising the demon. Luckily the person was still alive, you call the ambulance to have them picked up. “Good job back there.” Dean says, looking at you up and down.

You know that things would never get that far with Dean, but it didn’t stop you from being so incredibly attracted to him. Maybe he felt the same way. Dean steps closer to you, lifting up your chin to look at him, brushing hair out of your face. He crashes his lips against yours, picking you up and setting you on the counter. With your legs wrapped around his waist, he grinds up against you. Dean groans from the friction, a bulge growing in his pants. His hands run up and down your body, caressing your curves. He finds his way under your shirt, massaging your breasts. You moan from his touch, oh very badly did you crave it. You unbutton your shirt and he grins, taking your bra off exposing your breasts, the coldness of the room hardening your nipples. Dean licks his lips and begins to take one nipple in his mouth, kissing, licking, and biting it while his hand twists and massages the other. You put a hand through his soft short hair, needing more of him. You tug at his flannel to take it off. He obliges, removing his flannel and shirt, leaving you both naked from the waist up. “You’re beautiful.” Dean says in between kisses.

“Want to take this to the bedroom?” You ask Dean. He picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. He lays you gently down on the bed, he kisses from your breasts down to your belly, stopping at the hem of your pants. He unbuttons them, lifting your legs up to take them off. “You’re already soaking wet for me baby.” Dean groans, seeing your wet panties. He takes them off greedily, drooling at the sight of your pussy. His stubble brushes across your inner thighs as he begins to lick at your folds. You gasp when he sticks his warm tongue inside you. “(Y/N) you taste so good.” Dean says. He continues to tongue fuck you until the point you can’t take it anymore. However, before you can orgasm he stops. He couldn’t handle anymore foreplay. He needs his cock to be inside of you. He begins to unbutton his pants and you wait in anticipation to see what he’s been hiding. His cock pops out from his boxes, already leaking pre cum from his long dick. You squirm, desperately needing him inside you. “Please Dean.” You cry. “Not yet. You need to get it wet first.” Dean manages to say. He helps you sit up facing his cock. He strokes it a couple times, massaging his balls in the process. You grab his cock and lick him from the base to the tip, swirling it around on your tongue. Then, slowly putting the tip in your mouth, down the shaft, to the base of his large cock, getting use to the length. Dean moans almost embarrassingly loud, twitching at your movements. You lick up and down his long cock, tasting every inch of him. His balls were hanging low, you get off the bed and onto your knees, you grab his balls and put them both in your mouth, his dick hitting your forehead has you do so. Dean grips your hair into a ponytail, moaning out your name. “Fuck (Y/N).” Dean groans, then throwing you onto the bed, your ass facing him. Before you both even have time to think about putting on a condom, his dick rubs against your pussy lips becoming slippery. “Please fuck me Dean!” You cry out, becoming sexually frustrated, you need him inside you.

He slowly slides his cock into your pussy, “Baby you’re so tight.” You feel every inch of Dean as he slides into you, taking his length in full. With your pussy already leaking wet, Dean starts off with a slow pace, grabbing you by the hips, getting a rhythm. He is already hitting all the sweet spots, something no other man could do for you. “Dean you feel so good inside me.” You moan out, clutching the blankets beneath you. Dean had already wanted to cum the second he went inside you, so nice and tight, so wet for him. He speeds up his rhythm, slamming his cock deep inside your pussy, making you cream all over his cock. Your moans, screams, skin slapping, and the wetness from your pussy fill the air as he ruthlessly fucks you.

Dean pushes your head down onto the bed, grabbing your ass and smacking it leaving red hand marks. Dean has never been this horny in his life before, you are just so irresistible to him. Dean was in a trance by hearing your moans for him, taking all of his dick inside your pussy. “You’re taking my cock so good baby.” Dean moans out, feeling like he’s going to cum soon. Dean stops and pulls out, turning you over on your back, legs up in the air resting on his shoulders. Once again he slams into you, filling you up whole. He leaves lingering kisses along your breasts and neck as you moan out his name. Dean didn’t want this to end, he could go all night with you, and you could do the same. “Fuck I’m about to cum!” Dean yells, pulling out and squirting his hot cum all over your pussy lips. You giggle looking down at his mess. You’re still horny, needing to cum. You start to play with your clit, massaging his hot cum all over your pussy lips. Dean gasps as he sees you doing so, gently sticking one finger inside you as you play with your clit. You moan out as he rubs your g-spot, adding in another finger as he continues. This was all too much for you to handle, after a couple minutes of doing so, you cream all over his fingers and he gladly licks it off his fingers.

The night continues of you and Dean not getting enough of each other, fucking and cumming until you fall asleep for the night.

••

After that night, Dean invited you to stay at the bunker with Sam and him. Sometimes Cas showed up. “I just want to keep you safe.” Dean admits. You’ve known each other for a couple years now, texting back and forth and exchanging phone calls and stories, occasionally seeing each other once a month or so. You pack up all your things and move into the bunker with the boys. You and Dean end up being official a couple weeks after that. You buy new furniture and decor for the boys room, “Trying to make it more homey.” You say.

Life seemed to be almost perfect. Until one faithful day.

💜•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••💜

NOW:

“Dean!” You scream out, the demon grabbing you by the neck, choking you.

“Let her go, now.” Dean spits, raising a gun.

The demon stabs your gut, letting you fall to the ground. “I let her go.” The demon snickers.

By the time Dean gets over to you and the demon, they vanish. Dean holds you as you lay dying. “No baby please stay with me.” Dean says in desperation.

“I love you, Dean.” You choke out, blood flowing down your face. Your eyes meet his for one last time, and then you see bright white.

••

“I can’t leave.” You say to the reaper, looking at Dean as he’s sobbing over your body. “It’s too early, we didn’t get to spend our life together. We didn’t get out the life, we didn’t have any children or animals together.” You cry, a pain in your heart, too unbearable to deal with anymore.

“You know what will happen if you stay.” The reaper puts a cold hand on your sunken shoulders. “All those angry spirits you hunt, you will become one.”

“Will I see him again, wherever I go?” You ask.

“I can’t tell you that.” The reaper smiles, “It’s okay to go.”

You leave Dean a cold kiss on his forehead, he looks up shocked. “(Y/N)?” He says, looking around. He could feel your presence.

“Goodbye, Dean.” You say as you walk through the light.

••

Heaven. On the other side it’s beautiful. Mountains covered with large pine trees. A river flows underneath a bridge. The echoing of birds chirping fill the air. A small house, perfect as you could ever imagined lives on the top of the hill, watching over the river. You enter it, pictures of your family, friends, and Dean hang on the walls. Tears fills your eyes, you miss Dean. A knock at the door brings you back to your senses. You open the door, revealing John and Mary Winchester. Both smiling as they hold housewarming gifts. You’ve never met either of them before, but they seemed to know who you were, as they were always watching over Dean.

“Dean will be here soon.” Mary comforts you, placing a gentle hand on your back.

••

You spend the next couple weeks doing the things you love the most. Cooking all your favorite foods, swimming in the always warm water, drinking your favorite liquor. Everyone’s heaven is together. Sometimes you’d go up to the Winchesters house and have dinner, sometimes you’d go fishing with Bobby. Ellen and Joe were there sometimes too; along with all the other hunters you’ve lost along the way.

One day, you were walking down to the lake as you always do. Towel and a book in hand. From afar you notice a tall figure, you immediately knew who it was. “Dean!” You scream out, dropping everything and run to him. He turns around in shock, running towards you also. He picks you up and twirls you around, pulling you in for a long kiss after. Tears flow down Dean’s face as he looks at you. “I love you too.” Dean cries, brushing your hair out of your face, finding it hard to be real that he’s able to see your beautiful self again. “I’ve been waiting for you.” You say, pressing your face into his shoulder, breathing him in. Your heart felt full again. You and Dean take hands and walk up the hill to the bridge, there sits Baby parked. Dean squeals in excitement, immediately jumping in the drivers seat. You laugh and get into the passengers seat. “Head up to that house over there. I have a surprise for you.” You say. Dean obliges.

You knock at the Winchesters door. Mary answers. “Mom?!” Dean cries, hugging her. John walks up too, pulling Dean into an embrace. “We are just waiting for Sam now.” You say to Dean. “Time will go by fast.”

Eventually Sam joins everyone in heaven. Everything was complete. You and Dean had your own house, and got married. Dean enjoys mowing the lawn while you tend to the garden. On the weekends you guys host BBQ’s with all of your friends and family in heaven.

Maybe somethings last forever after all.

💜•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••💜

“A cold beer's got twelve ounces

A good truck's got maybe three hundred thousand

You only get so much until it's gone

Duracells in a Maglite

A needle drop on a forty-five

Are the kinda things that only last so long

When the new wears off and they get to getting old

Sooner or later, time's gonna take its toll

They say nothing lasts forever

But they ain't seen us together

Or the way the moonlight dances in your eyes

Just a t-shirt in the kitchen

With no make-up and a million

Other things that I could look at my whole life

A love like that makes a man have second thoughts

Maybe some things last forever after all

FM station on the outskirts

Blue jeans after years of shift work

All fading out like I always knew they would

The strings on this guitar

The first love lost on a young heart

Those things are gonna break after the getting's good

'Cause the new wears off and they get to getting old

Yeah, sooner or later, time's gonna take its toll

They say nothing lasts forever

But they ain't seen us together

Or the way the moonlight dances in your eyes

Just a t-shirt in the kitchen

With no make-up and a million

Other things that I could look at my whole life

A love like that makes a man have second thoughts

Maybe some things last forever after all

They say nothing lasts forever

But they ain't seen us together

Or the way the moonlight dances in your eyes

And I know there'll be that moment

The good Lord calls one of us home and

One won't have the other by their side

But heaven knows that that won't last too long

Maybe some things last forever after all”

💜•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••💜

AUTHORS NOTE: I will never forgive SPN writers making that ending so rushed and short. I would have absolutely LOVED for Sam and Dean to see their parents again, Bobby, and just everyone that they’ve lost in heaven together. I wish they would have had an episode “feel good” episode of just everyone being happy in heaven, throwing parties and bbq’s, and just drinking until they’re too drunk. Let me know how you think SPN should have ended!

#Spotify #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #deanwinchtser #smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #spn fanfic #spnfandom #spn #dean x reader smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #spn smut #spn imagine #spn one shot

[rrenzwrld]

secreto de amor XIII

chapter 13! read chapter 12 here

ever since jean found out about the relationship between you and connie, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel some type of way. he specifically told connie not to pursue his sister in any way because of how he did women but apparently connie ignored his wishes and now jean was gonna have to say something to him about it.

“what did i tell you about fucking with my sister, connie?”

“all we did was kiss—“

“i don’t care. leave her alone, she doesn’t need to be in your bullshit or whatever the fuck.”

“she’s grown, i’m grown. what’s the issue?”

“the issue is that she’s my family and i wouldn’t wanna see her hurt especially over a man. now to see her hurt over you? i’d definitely beat your ass. she’s innocent, pure, and just an all around good girl so i don’t need you fucking that up.. like everything else.”

“the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“you know what i’m talking about.” connie couldn’t protest but he really wasn’t about to let jean’s words pull him away from you. he was just thinking of ways to be sneaky about it.

“whatever man, i get it. just don’t be tryna lecture me like i’m some kid.”

“keep it up and i’ll knock your ass into tomorrow.” connie let out a slight chuckle, which did the same for jean so the tension went away after they got to doing their thing.

meanwhile, you had just gotten off work and wanted to do some shopping before coming home so you went to the mall. after buying a few pieces of clothing, you went to your favorite shoe store to look and see what sneakers you wanted to another time but what happened as you were browsing was something you had not expected.

“y/n?” you looked up and saw your ex, zayvion and you froze. you were sure that after the breakup, you’d be free of him but apparently you were terribly mistaken because now he gotten a job at one of your favorite stores. you knew he worked there because of the uniform but you questioned if it was because he knew it was your favorite store and he was trying to find a way to see you again.

“zay…you um, work here now?” he nodded. “when?”

“been here for about a week. was kinda hoping to run into you.” he smiled. “how you been?”

you gulped. “good, you?” you were only keeping small conversation to be nice but you were breaking down on the inside and wanted to cry.

“great, thank you.” there was silence so you took that as an opportunity to leave quickly.

once you made it home, connie and jean were sitting on the couch talking and greeted you as you came in with your bags. you weren’t really in the mood so you went straight to your room.

“can i check on her at least?” connie looked to jean after the conversation they had. jean obviously didn’t want that right now.

“no.” jean got up and went to your room to see your bags on the floor and you were on your phone. “you alright?”

“yeah.”

“did you enjoy the shopping?”

“i did until i didn’t. i saw zay.”

“zay? he works at the mall now? since when?”

“he said about a week. but i didn’t stay long enough to ask him anything else.” even though it happened a bit ago, you still felt traumatized from what happened. jean didn’t really know what else to say. you were a hard person to comfort because you didn’t necessarily display how you felt and kept everything in your head instead.

“it’s good you walked away, you don’t need that right now.”

“right.” it was a bit of silence before jean left your room and you started looking at what you bought and put the stuff away after. hours had passed and you had fallen asleep before there was a knock at your door that woke you up. you got up from your bed to open the door to see connie standing in the doorway.

“hey.”

“hey, i thought you were gone by now.” connie shook his head.

“nah, couldn’t leave without seeing you.” he smiled and your struggled to hide your smile. “plus your brother stepped out so i’m sneaking around right now.”

“cool.” you stepped aside to let him in your room before closing the door behind him.

“i saw you looked upset earlier, what happened?” connie sat in the bean bag chair in your room.

you didn’t feel like reciting what happened again but you did anyways. “i went to the mall and saw my ex. it bothered me so i left.”

“did you talk to him?”

“only because he was talking to me and i didn’t wanna be rude. but i didn’t talk to him for long.” connie wanted to ask about what happened because you never told him but he didn’t wanna feel like he was overstepping. but he tried to anyway just to see.

“what happened between yall? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“he cheated and i saw.”

connie looked surprised. “you saw? saw what?”

“him cheating, duh.”

“no like what did he do exactly?”

“eating another bitch out. i wanted to go to his house to surprise him because his parents were gone that weekend. we dated for two years.” connie could tell how mellow and somber your voice had become and understood this was a difficult topic for you.

“i’m sorry.”

you scoffed. “me too…” you mumbled.

“anyways—“ the both of you went silent at the sound of the door opening which indicated that jean was back and connie had to leave your room. “this shit is getting annoying, for real.” he commented as you tried to shove him out as quickly as you could before jean could get angry at anyone.

“bye, connie.” you shut the door behind him.

“i thought you said you were leaving?” jean placed some bags down on the counter.

“i’m leaving now tho so i don’t wanna hear your shit, j.” and with that, connie left the apartment.

#aot x reader #aot x black reader #black reader #connie springer #aot connie #connie springer x black reader #connie springer x black y/n

[nburkhardt]

Part one Part two

Whispered reassures and promises. Promises of lists and songs on post-it notes. Laughter and praise between it all, it can make someone’s head spin.

It’s definitely making Steve’s head spin.

A quick brush of lips against his temple, so quick he thinks he imagined it. A gentle squeeze of their clasped hands, then both are gone and he opens his eyes to find Eddie now standing smiling down at him with a hand open in front of him.

“Come on, Stevie, let’s continue this on a couch and get something to drink.” Eddie wiggles his hand impatiently, “the floor hurts, Sunshine.”

His brain freezes for a split second before the first smile, a near blinding one spreads on his face. He won’t question the new nickname, maybe someday but not today and maybe he’ll ask Eddie to call him that everyday. For now he watches as Eddie’s smile gets brighter and wiggles his hand again before clasping it with his.

An hour later and they’re sitting on his couch, Eddie’s on one side and he’s on the other; they’re facing each other with their legs a tangled mess. Eddie had insisted, saying it was to ground him. He’ll be honest, he doesn’t quite understand that but it does feel nice. The only other person who insists on physical contact is Robin, but she limits it to a hug or just high-fives. If it was up to Steve, they’d be hugging, holding hands or wrapping ankles together none stop.

Okay, so he might be a little touch-starved now that he’s thinking about it.

It seems though, Eddie doesn’t mind touch. He’s actually the one asking for it first, can’t figure out if it’s because of his breakdown earlier or because that’s just something Eddie does sometimes.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Breaks through his thoughts and he shakes his head to focus on the man across from him, Eddie’s rolling his water bottle between his hands. There’s a curious look on his face, “you’ve been quiet.”

He shrugs a little before leaning back further, “Just, thinking.”

Eddie hums with a nod, dropping his water bottle in his lap and bringing a knee up to rest his head on it, “What about? Pizza won’t be here for another thirty minutes”

He opens his mouth with a lie, a simple ‘nothing, don’t worry about it’ because it’s a lot, today has been a lot to handle. Voicing out loud that he might be touch-starved would be another heavy topic. Despite sharing his deepest secret, his biggest insecurity. Sharing another one? It would be too much for one day.

“Just, that you’re a great person” it’s not a lie, that’ll never be a lie. Eddie is a great person, one of the best that Steve knows. It’s just not what he was really thinking though, Eddie will figure it out when he gets the courage to speak about more insecurities later. “How, um, did you know what to do back there?”

Eddie looks confused for only a second before answering, “pulling you out of the breakdown? Well, I have anxiety attacks sometimes, my uncle still gets panic attacks from time to time. He taught me how to handle them, told me the rights and wrongs on what to do.”

Nodding, he then looks away to stare down at his lap, avoiding Eddie’s gaze. He feels like an open book right now, feels like Eddie is staring into his everything and he feels comfort in that really he does but he's also so terrified of that feeling.

It’s…nice, having someone like this. He knows that his friendship with Robin is similar to that but this? This is different and he doesn’t want it to be like his friendship with Robin.

The doorbell rings and before he can get up, Eddie’s already standing and shakes a finger in his direction, “nah-uh, I’m paying. You stay here, drink the water and relax, okay?”

“Okay”

He doesn’t bother watching Eddie walk to the door, instead he lowers himself on the couch and thinks.

Is this going to last? How true are Eddie’s words? Will he really stay by his side and will he really write positive post-it notes for him? Write a song for him?

He feels like he’s back in Eddie’s hospital room, with questions but his mouth refuses to open. He doesn’t know if he wants the answers, this time either.

For now, he’ll let those questions stay in his head while he enjoys Eddie’s company and some pizza. And hope that tomorrow is better, either with Eddie by his side or without.

~~

He called out of work. He doesn’t do that, it’ll hurt losing that money but he can’t face Robin right now. Doesn’t necessarily want to face anyone right now actually, there’s a chance the kids or even Eddie’s band mates will show up. He can’t handle that, still feeling raw from Eddie even seeing him the way he did.

Currently he’s wrapped up in his blankets on his bed overthinking, again.

Yesterday replaying in his head, Eddie’s words acting as a melody from a song. Sometimes in order, sometimes just one sentence or even one word repeating over and over. If he wasn’t laying in bed, he’d be dizzy and distracted from it.

“one day you’ll believe me”

“I promise you”

“You are not an asshole”

“You’re a good person, Stevie”

“You have me”

He’s tired of tears, but it seems he has an unlimited amount in his eyes. He can’t help but think over all of those words, or just think of Eddie. If he thinks hard enough, he can feel the kiss on his forehead or how their legs were pressed together. It was so weirdly intimate, like he could float away and be present but also not. The idea of being able to not be here seems freeing and that's a scary thought.

All those moments helped him sleep for only a few hours, all the warmth faded before the sun came out and Steve was jolted awake by it. He’s been awake since, the words and memories aren’t enough for him to go back to sleep.

~~~~

Steve's head is all over the place much like my own. Sorry we didn't get more comfort, Steve has a lot of thoughts okay?? He’s an over-thinker. Don't worry more parts are coming :)

Also sorry it’s a lot shorter than the other two and if it’s too non-linear, it made sense in my head ending it where I did 😅

taglist: @zerokrox-blog @piningapple @i-wanna-combust @stevecarrington @henderdads @fiore-della-valle @eddiemunsonswife @mixsethaddams @momotonescreaming @ajamlessbaby @novelnovella @flustratedcas @thelastwalkingsoul

@hellfire1986baby @manda-panda-monium @xo-blairej @freyaforestafay @princessstevemunson @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @sapphirecobalt-1 @stevesworldxx @jonathanbyersbbg @fromapayphone @anzelsilver @adaed5 @koyislosinghismind

Part four

#steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington fic #stranger things #angst #steve harrington #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #desperate prayers of a cursed man fic #his thoughts really did get away from me #i meant to add in more eddie but steve is an OVERTHINKER #we'll get eddie being a clingy bastard next time and an overprotective one at that #nburkhardt writes

[dyrewrites]

Did I share these dumb things yet

They are dialogue fun-times for a thing I'm not writing yet, called Bloodhound (at the moment). It is a detective story starring a 345 year old vampire and his 16 year old adoptive werewolf daughter. The same two from this thing

They help monsters and things kinda like monsters.

“He looks so much like ol’ Darren...”

“You been around a long time, maybe he’s a descendant?”

“Would it be weird to ask him out?”

“Nah, dude’s like forty, even if he is that Darren whatever’s great great great grandkid, it’s not like he’s your kid.”

“But what if he doesn’t like men...or worse, me?”

“Use your vampire mojo, make him like you.”

“Oriana!”

“What? You can, can’t you?”

“That doesn’t mean I should. And you know that! I thought I raised you better...”

“You did, that’s why I didn’t suggest it first.”

“You shouldn’t have suggested it at all.”

“What about the ones you feed on, aren’t they under your...you know?”

“No, they...they actually ask for that.”

“That’s nasty.”

“That’s gothic romanticism, flower, and we wouldn’t live so comfortably without it.”

—

“Wait, so all vampires keep their bitemarks?”

“Correct.”

“But you don't have any marks on your neck.”

“I wasn't bitten…on my neck.”

“Then where, ew, ew, don't tell me it's—”

“It isn't, but it is in that general area. Fortunate really, it allowed me to escape detection during the trials.”

“Who was your, are they called sires?”

“No, that's an invention of romanticism. We simply refer to them as master or maker. In rare instances even father/mother.”

“And yours was…?”

“Building a family tree are we, flower?”

“I'm just curious. Was he famous?”

“How do you know it was a he?”

“Dad. C’mon. Like your gay ass is letting a woman anywhere near your downstairs.”

“...point, though I could do without the color. His name was Lucient, we'll avoid the surname lest you take to the wires for it. He was beautiful, kind and altogether horrible.”

“So bad breakup.”

“Psychotic break more like, but it's not something you need concern yourself with. He is long gone.”

--

“She said it’s a tulpa, and I feel I should know what that is...but I don’t.”

“Simplest description would be a dream made manifest. And they’ve become quite the nuisance since the advent of the internet. Do you remember last year with that especially long-necked horse creature?”

“Oh, but he was so sweet! He didn’t hurt anyone.”

“Not physically, no, but his presence sent a number to the hospital for mental distress. Regardless of danger, we are incapable of destroying them—and it isn’t in our job descriptions to do so. If it’s capable of conversation, we’ll ask it to go elsewhere, otherwise we capture and relocate. Did she offer a description?”

“’Really big moth’...wait, does she mean the moth man? The moth man...is real?”

“Remind me to explain the difference between a cryptid and a tulpa to Ms. Fairweather next she rings, would you? And fetch the lamp, no, no, the Elizabethan lamp.”

“What does it matter what lamp, he’s a moth.”

“One does not stop in on old friends without a gift, flower.”

—

“What’s the sap for?”

“Ichor, flower, it is the blood of a deity.”

“Oh, so a snack for the road?”

“Ha ha. Hardly, it is an offering to a reclusive creature born of…personal mythos.”

“Another tulpa?”

“Similar, yes.”

“Something to do with trees, I'm guessing?”

“Yes, but not living ones. I must offer it in a ghostwood.”

“I remember those, they're forests cut down or burned where it's all stumps and ash, right?”

“Impressive, flower. You do listen to this old man's rambling after all.”

“It's ghost trees, dad, who's going to ignore that.”

“You'd be surprised.”

“So what's the creature then, do you know them?”

“Oh yes…I, I do at that.”

“...you two fucked, didn't you? You fucked a tree.”

“Language, Oriana! Why must you be so crude.”

“You're not answering the question.”

“He is as much man as he is tree and it is no business of yours what we did or didn't do.”

“Just keep it in your pants when we see this tree man, I don't need that image in my head.”

“You're not coming, flower. He'll only show if I appear vulnerable.”

“Tell me this isn't an elaborate booty call…I mean I know it's been a while and you've been lonely and moping but—”

“I've been moping?”

“Well, brooding, but it's fine, it's hard for guys your age to meet people.”

“It is not hard for me to, I am doing fine, and you shouldn't be concerning yourself with my love life.”

“Dad, you're going out into the woods to summon a fuckable tree.”

“I’m not listening to this anymore. There are dryads dying by the grove and Namael is the only one I know that's close enough in species to help without falling victim to the same malady.”

“So the tree has a name…does the name have a meaning? Dryad names always have a meaning.”

“Not a dryad.”

“Not a no.”

“Bloodtongue, his name means he's extremely skilled with,”

“His tongue, yeah, I got that. Have fun on your booty call.”

“...”

#yes that last one is about my tree-man from weald and wen #shut up #bloodhound #dialogue #writing #i don't even think any of this will make it in #but i like to write dialogue as character exploration

[hushimstressed]

I have. SO many thoughts about your Spider-Man au. First of all, I don’t know how much or how long you’ve watched slimecicle, but as I long time frequent viewer I can tell you he is DEEPLY unhinged. He makes a fantastic villain whenever he sets his mind to it. Which brings me to my point - you’ve mentioned slime living in fear of his lack of control over venom. I think you could break slimecicle into two pieces - Charlie, his civilian identity, and Slime, his symbiote. Together they make slimecicle. Charlie brings the puns, the humor, and the lightheartedness to their hive mind. Slime brings the violence, the territorialness, the disregard for human life. Combined it means that slimecicle cracks cannibal jokes before he eats people and stalks those he cares about. I think he would be all in on the cannibalism. He’s disturbing not by being scary but by being silly and normal even as he eats people. Becomes obsessed with Spider-Man. Some guy hurts the spider real bad and slimecicle tortures and eats them. I just think he should be demented and unhinged! He offers to eat Juanaflipa’s bullies. When him and Mariana find out each other’s identities and split ways he stalks him to make sure he’s safe. Maybe he even killed someone before the symbiote. He’s a fucked up silly little guy. Take this with a grain of salt if you want these are just my thoughts! I just think he should hive mind and be creepier. And that he’d be into the murder thing.

🐀

Answer got too long so I have to hide it under the cut again whoooooooo also there’s a poll at the end

Charlie definitely gets unhinged but only really after Juanaflippa dies because that’s when he stops holding back Venom/Slime from going on a rampage- as time goes on and his issues remain unaddressed the line between Charlie the human being and Slime the symbiote becomes blurred. Before he’d make more of an effort to “mask” anything out of the ordinary (with varying success) but post-Flippa’s death he rolls with the horror more instead of covering it up, e.g. “That was just a very large dog, don’t worry about it hahaha” vs “yes, I just ate a man- I skipped breakfast, we all do it.”

Charlie indulging in more “monsterous” habits and the symbiote Slime forming genuine human connections with those around it (Mariana & Juanaflippa)! So when Mariana and him “split” after her death, he justifies following him around because he want to keep him out of similar danger, and it’s fine because Venom/Slime is helping. Before he would catch sight of Spider-Man and adore him as a symbolic figure to what Charlie could never amount to, now he follows Mariana out of desperation for losing all he used to have (but simultaneously cannot confront Mariana in person because then he’d have to face a whole other can of issues relating to Juanaflippa’s death).

Charlie definitely considered eating Juanaflippa’s school bullies at one point but never brought it up to her because he was under the impression she didn’t know he was possessed by a man-eating symbiote lmaooo

Also you make a good point of making Charlie creepier! I considered indulging into some body horror when I first started this au but figured that would scare people off so I kinda forgot about it 💀 like “oops I grew a second mouth” and then vomits a skeleton hahaha and how an alien species attaching itself to his body could make him feel like his body isn’t his own anymore but the host of a being out of his control and comfort :)

On a side note he would 100% crack a pun before killing a man (I’m just not good at puns so imagine a really funny one rn) and nom

Accept this doodle as thanks for the brain rot I will continue to think of these dumb idiots whom I love

#ask #anon #rat anon #mcyt #qsmp #qsmp au #slimecicle #juanaflippa #spiderman au #venom!slimecicle #tw vomit mention #body horror #el Mariana #slimeriana #<- in their break-up era

[mgkxximagines]

You threw back your second sex on the beach, throat burning with pleasure as you chugged it in one go. The glass clattered on the bar, a soft growl escaping your throat. Rage coursed through you, but you knew better than to drink anymore. If you did, you’d likely end up doing something you might regret. Like slash your ex’s tires. Or maybe murder his brother. Who the fuck knew? You were a vengeful drunk. Especially when your boyfriend of four years cheats on you in your own bed.

You checked the time on your phone. It was only 11:00. You snarled and locked your phone a little more aggressively than you probably needed to, but you were pissed.

And righteously so! He had the fucking balls to cheat on you with that whore coworker of yours! Ugh, you knew the one— who always wore tiny skirts, open blouses, and was sleeping her way to the top of the company.

It didn’t matter that she didn’t do shit. Nah, it wasn’t your work she piggybacked off of— oh, wait! It was! Fucking bitch.

You didn’t realize you’d started muttering to yourself until the bartender gingerly slid you a basket of fries. Yeah, you should probably eat something. The alcohol was getting to your brain way too fucking quickly for your liking.

Your attention caught on a tall, muscular shape throwing darts at the wall. He seemed familiar but you couldn’t tell where you knew him from. Whatever. You were in Los Angeles, famous people were a dime of dozen here.

You turned back to your French fries, seething with silent rage.

It wasn’t until you’d finished about half the fries when you noticed the man watching you from the corner of your eye. You swiveled to observe him properly, your eyes threatening to water. Your gaze caught on a very, very attractive man— possibly in his mid—twenties, maybe thirties at the absolute least. Your gaze traveled over his face slowly, as though you were memorizing his features. His eyes were light and intelligent, and his mouth was quirked up slightly in a half-smile. A 5’o’clock shadow dusted his chin, but it did nothing to dampen the stunning beauty and elegance of his face. He wore a red flannel with a leather jacket over it, and you could catch the slight scent of shoe polish mixed with something sweet—- honeysuckle?

You were pulled form your open observation of him when he cleared his throat to speak.

“You okay, there, honey?

You blinked. Did MGK just call you honey?

He waited expectantly for you to answer, leaning closer as he did.

“Umm—not really, but I don’t think that’s any of your business, Colson.” You crunched a fry without breaking eye contact. “What is a big shot like you doing in a dive like this?”

He looked slightly taken aback, but he recovered quickly.

“Hmm—I guess I like to get away from it all sometimes. Life is pretty exhausting nowadays.” He sighed, seeming to forget who he was talking to for a second. “I kinda wish I could disappear for a while, but too many people know who I am.”

You rolled your eyes despite yourself.

“Oh, please. Do you know how many people would kill to be you for a day?” You snickered and added to yourself, “or to do you for a day...”

His interest in you was once again piqued. Colson eyed you curiously, with a knowing smirk.

“Can I count you among all of those thirsty fan girls, honey?”

Your posture shot upright as you frantically glared at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you, me, and lovers peak.” He purred. Colson was somehow much closer than you remembered him being mere moments before, his knee brushing your thigh softly from where he perched his barstool.

Okay. Your heart rate was going way too fast for you to be comfortable in that moment. You tried to laugh it off, though it came out as a nervous warble more than anything else.

“What, is this some kind of joke? You’re Colson Baker, the sex icon of my entire generation. And I’m a nobody.”

You tried to keep the hurt out of your voice, but it pierced through beneath your words like a shiv.

Colson’s face fell. He wasn’t smirking anymore. He felt the pain in your words as your eyes threatened to spill over with sadness. Wordlessly, he pulled you into his chest as you began silently sobbing. It hurt more than you wanted to admit. Your ex was a lying sack of shit and you didn’t know how to cope with that information. You’d lived with the guy for three years, dated him for four— he had, arguably, been your first requited love. Apparently, though, that statement didn’t ring true anymore.

It was with this revelation that you utterly broke down, letting yourself be held for the first time in who knew how long. Colson hushed you softly, humming in his sweet baritone a song that was only for you.

When your tears began to dry, you recognized just how close you were crushed to his chest. His very toned chest. The chest whose heartbeat was increasing, possibly from the same revelation; your breasts were in fact pressed into his abdomen, your arms wrapped around his waist. You coughed and began to right yourself, pulling back with flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload on you. My boyfriend of four years cheated on me, so I’m not quite myself.”

His spine stiffened and his lips pressed into a thin line. Interesting. Colson glared at a spot on the bar as though it was to blame.

“I’m so sorry.” His hand absently stroked the back of yours, warming it with his own. “For the record, if he was stupid enough to do that, he didn’t deserve you anyway.”

You rolled your eyes. You wanted to laugh.

“Colson, you don’t even know me!” You snickered. “Goddamn, I’ve gotta be in some sort of stupid anime subplot. Don’t you have a concert to play or a girl to woo?”

His face fell only for a second before a thought made his eyes flicker with mischief.

“What if I do?” He raises his eyebrows. “Maybe you’re the girl to woo.”

Your laughter died in your throat and you swallowed hard.

He wasn’t joking.

His eyes were hungry and his hand gently squeezed your own.

He really wasn’t playing around.

“Wh...why?”

He grinned, flashing his pristinely white teeth in the dim light of the bar.

“I dunno. It might further the plot.” He winked at you impishly.

Fuck. Okay, you were hella in trouble.

You ground your thighs together in a sudden desperation, your eyelids fluttering as his hands held your own and began to trace themselves over your wrists in feather-light movements. It really shouldn’t have done anything at all, but the feeling of his calluses fingers on the sensitive skin of your inner forearm was definitely feeling like it should be obscene.

“You gonna take me up on my offer?” Colson purred.

Well.... fuck. How could you say no?

“I mean...” you forced your voice to be even-keeled. “It’s still pretty early. Maybe I will.”

He let out of soft laugh before sweeping you into the bathroom before you could blink. His lips were on your neck, gracing sinful trails of bliss across your nerves and dancing with your flesh. At your quizzical glance, he only chuckled deeply.

“I couldn’t wait that long, honey”

Any protest you might’ve had was drowned out by the moan that escaped your lips when his mouth pressed to your throat. Colson made quick work of your clothes and began worshipping your curves. His hands cupped your breasts reverently, lips ghosting over your skin and sending goosebumps flying over you. He sucked on your nipple and you had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from outright screaming.

He licked your breast once before popping back up to give you an evil smile.

“You don’t have to hold back. I don’t care who hears us. There’s no paparazzi here..” Even as he spoke, he trailed his mouth over your skin. Leaving his breath rushing across the skin beneath your ear, his hands sliding into your hair.

With an irritated mewl, you pushed him away for a second.

“No fair.” He chided.

“Uh-Uh. You. Naked. Now.”

Realization dawned on him as he quickly reassumed his sly expression.

“Mm. Whatever you say, honey.”

His clothing hit the floor and you were on him, your hands roving over the hard, chiseled planes of his body with reckless abandon. He smirked down at your tenacity, your enthusiasm as you kissed his body with a devotion that equaled his.

“Enjoying yourself, huh?”

You snorted and bit his collarbone.

“Please. This has been my fantasy since I was a teenager. Don’t at me.”

With an aggressive little groan, you nibbled at his earlobe, earning a sharp breath from him. He laughed softly at your sudden vigor.

“Mm. Be mean to me, honey.”

Now it was your turn to snicker.

“Goddamn it, Kells...”

He looked at you innocently.

“I didn’t do anything. Not one little thing.”

His fingers slipped between your legs, completely invalidating his statement. You keened under his touch, his lips capturing yours and warring for dominance.

You groaned. God, it had been so long since someone had touched you like this.

“Fuck me, Kells.” You pleaded. “For the love of God, fuck me black and blue.”

“Ugh, fuck yes.” He breathed

With a sudden burst of energy he lifted your leg and began running his length across your slit, feeling the wetness af the apex of your thighs.

“Damn, honey, how long has it been since someone’s loved you like this? You’re so fucking wet..”

His rhetorical question didn’t earn the biting sarcasm he’d expected, so Colson made the executive decision to ensure that this would be a night you’d never forget.

He sucked on your breasts one more time before cupping the backs of your legs and lifting you onto him with a grunt. With your breath sufficiently knocked out of your lungs, you managed an approving whimper before he began to move. Colson’s hips rocked back and forth with a practiced ease, his rhythm steady and heart-poundingly delicious.

His hand dropped to where you were joined and he began playing with your clit in sync with his thrusts, a decision that made you bite his shoulder to keep from screaming outright.

Goddamn, this boy knew how to move.

You tightened your thighs around his waist, locking him inside you as you felt your heart beat as one, suspended in the moment, ecstatic in the feeling of one another.

Not one to rest for long, Colson snickered and unlocked your legs with a quick buck of his hips. Fingertips dug into your waist as he gripped you roughly, rutting into you like his life depended on it. Your throat ached as you let out a guttural groan, your first orgasm leaving your legs quaking. Sensing your release, Colson slowed his pace as he worked you through it, his lips soft as his tongue danced with yours.

“Fuck.” You muttered.

He let out of breathy laugh.

“My sentiments exactly.” He pressed feathery kisses to your neck and face, letting his guard down for the first time in months. “I wouldn’t mind if this became a regular thing... we fit together so well.

Your face flushed and you met his eyes, curious.

“Wait, really?”

Colson nodded, biting his lip as he did so.

“I like you a lot—- not just because of the sex, but you’re also just... I don’t know. I’m drawn to you.”

You held back a snort, totally ruining his cute little moment of sincerity.

“Yep, this is straight up some anime shit.”

He glared at you, but his smile betrayed him.

He pulled you close, his chest pressing to yours, as he simply breathed with you in the near-total darkness.

“So you’re coming back to my place, right?”

His smirk made your heart jump with the possibilities that it held.

“Absofuckinglutely.”

#colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker imagines #colson x reader #machine gun kelly #machinegunkelly #machine gun kelly imagines #mgk fanfic #machine gun kelly imagine

[ssssachi]

Letters and Love!

17 - infatuated or love?

Looking at Asahi’s last message for what it seemed the nth time, you lightly slap your cheeks to refrain from smiling like an idiot over that simple sentence. Well yeah, some might say it’s simple but for you it was sure special. So special that as if you could almost threw your heart up from all the fast beating that was accelerated by that one man who made you feel this way. Who wouldn’t go feral after your crush called you cute!?

Even though you tried to stop your smiles, you still can’t help but feel giddy ‘bout the message that he sent. You even recall all the moments that you and Asahi had spent time with each other, you can’t seem to stop thinking about him. Was this still a silly crush? Or an ‘obsession’ or perhaps is it, love…? Nah, it’s certainly not love. You’re only infatuated with him, yeah…you only like him…that’s all.

Needless to say, it’s totally impossible not to be in love with Hamada Asahi. He already has someone he loves, so you would only hurt yourself more to love him when he has someone he dearly cherishes and not you. That’s why it would be impossible loving him. Though, you must admit, you envied Yuki for having Asahi to herself. Asahi was the sweetest and weirdest person you’ve ever encountered. Sometimes in school, he would always space out and do questionable stuff that can make the whole class laugh. He was indeed the sweetest when you saw him, the very day you first saw him, taking care over the homeless people on the streets. You were supposed to hand them your old clothes and food but when you saw him smiling and handing out some burger to them, you heart suddenly warmed. A wave of excitement and ache makes way to your heart. Oh shoot maybe you’re really in love?

Maybe, just maybe, you also want Asahi to yourself. But what can you do? You’re just a mere friend to him and that was enough for you. A friend whom he can rely to. Welp, let’s stop talking about this dramatic ass thing and focus at this present.

After thinking about your undying crush love to Asahi, you felt a pair of arms sneaking its way to your waist. A chin sit its way comfortably to your shoulder. You felt goosebumps as the person’s breath makes contact within your exposed neck.

“I- please Doyoung you scared the crap out of me.” You cursed and flicker his forehead in the process. He then groans and snuggle himself to you more, hugging your body tightly from your back.

“Hmm, that Asahi has been monopolizing your attention. I need to up my game don’t I, princess?” Doyoung said with his morning voice that was almost as deep and low like the ocean. ok wtf

Holly molly that sound so hot. But I’d like to hear Asahi’s though..

You thought. You rub your temples together and break yourself from his hug. Facing him, you push him down to your bed. The first thing you noticed was his bed hair. Carefully, you fix his hair while he only looks at your face. Busy fixing his hair you didn’t notice a pair of arms sneak its way again to your waist.

Her lips. What if—

“Uh— ouch! Why did you pull my hair?!” Doyoung complains, now fully wide awake.

“I know you too well. You were just about to doze off!” You argue with your hands resting on your hip.

“I did not!”

“You did!”

“Did not!”

“You did!”

“This is why you’re adopted.”

“This is why you’re neglected.”

“Ugh!” With that he pulls your hair slight harder from what you did making some of your strands fall onto his grip. The both of you were quiet for a while. Dead silence looking at your stands of hair from Doyoung’s hand.

“Oh it is so on.”

A cat fight soon broke out. Let’s say, rest was...history.

The both of you were interrupted by your bedroom’s door being open. Junghwan barge in the room and looks at the two of you like he had seen it for a couple of times. This was nothing new to him, it was all normal.

“Mama said the two of you should eat. She made waffles and oh. Haruto and Jeongwoo hyung are here. So make yourselves AT LEAST presentable.” He with that he walks out of the room, not closing the door.

Your hair was just messy as Doyoung’s hair. And because of the fight, Doyoung was forced to sleep in Junghwan’s room as usual.

prev | next | masterlist

Description: Y/N has been crushing on Hamada Asahi for a while (since freshman). Now that they’re in the final year of senior high, she plans on confessing to him now or never!! But ofc, there are obstacles that must be faced. And that obstacle, is his alleged GIRLFRIEND!??? She badly wants to shoot her shot but knowing her crush has already have a lover, she decides to only write him letters full of love and confessions and continue admiring him from a far. With no plans on revealing her identity to him whatsoever. Or that’s what she thought..

Taglist (open): @enhacolor @carateum1 @eboyjuni @softforqiankun @kyufilms @oceanyocean @wony6ung @luvelyxp @moon-gyus @sunoo-bby @diestheticu @nanasdream @kyutekyuala @yedamdamn @kurodach @ksunwooqt @yogurteume @iamnotgrootforiamthor @yevyyevs @daintysan @leafyshroom

Could not tag: @oranshi

a/n: huhu again i’m NOT satisfied with this chapter i’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense i swear i’ll improve my writing skillz 😼 + I wasn’t too sure of posting this one 🥹

#idk what did i write 😔 #IM KINDA FRUSTRATED ABOUT THE WAY I WROTE @ THE BEGINNING THIS IS DJSKAKAKAKKAKS #LMAO n e wayssss nos we know ths reason why y/n loves— i mean ‘like’ asahi ☺️ #DOYOUNG AND Y/N ARE YALL SURE U TWO AINT A COUPLE 😦 #hamada asahi #asahi x reader #hamada asahi x reader #hamada asahi x y/n #treasure fluff #treasure asahi #treasure au #treasure social media au #yg treasure #treasure imagines #treasure fanfic #treasure #treasure x reader #treasure smau

[walker-extended-universe]

Worst Case Scenario

Relationship(s): Cordell Walker & Liam Walker, August Walker & Cordell Walker, Liam Walker & Stella Walker, August Walker & Cordell Walker & Liam Walker & Stella Walker

Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe- Canon Divergence, Kidnapping, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Hospitalization, Recovery, Brain Damage, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt No Comfort, Angst, Heavy Angst, Protective Liam Walker, Other Tags May Be Added

Summary: In which the kids were taken by Grey Flag too and the consequences are devastating for the whole family.

Written for @angstober Day 28- Face the Consequences

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

-------

Stella and August arrived at the meeting point. They were alone and they didn’t have the money and Stella was starting to regret letting August come along but it was too late now. She just had to hope Shannon would be agreeable and let her pay in installments. “Just stay behind me and don’t do anything stupid,” she muttered.

“I’m here with you; I’m already doing something stupid.”

Stella hit his arm to shut him up while they waited. She knew this was probably a bad idea. No, this was definitely a bad idea. But there wasn’t any other way to find their dad. She was just chasing down every lead, like her dad would. A small voice in the back of her head told her that following her dad’s example maybe wasn’t the best idea in this situation but what was she supposed to do? Just let this lead get away? Fat chance.

Shannon showed up late and she didn’t come alone. “You don’t look like you have a bag of cash on you….” she said, looking at them disapprovingly with her goons behind her.

“We wanted to verify your information first.” Stella hoped she sounded more coolheaded than she felt. “Where is our dad? Where did you see them take him?”

Shannon shrugged. “Somewhere in the industrial district a couple miles out of town. It’s not like I memorized the address. Now where’s my money?”

“You’ll get it once we know you’re telling the truth,” August said, subtly stepping forward so he was between them and Stella. “Why don’t we just give you a little to start and once we’ve verified, you get the rest?”

Shannon smirked. “Nah. That’s not how this works. I’m getting all my money, right now.”

Stella didn’t have time to wonder what that meant before she was grabbed from behind. “Hey!” she shouted, kicking back and trying to wriggle her way out of her assailant’s grip. But it was no use. There were too many of them and her hands and ankles were bound and she was unceremoniously tossed in the back of a van and August wasn’t far behind.

Before the doors closed, Stella saw a masked man hand Shannon a large bag of money. As the van sped away, she fell against the side of the van, hitting her head and falling unconscious.

—---------

Their captors were leaving them alone for now. Not that it made their situation any better but a day without torture was always a good day.

“Do you think they’re trying to mess with us?” Liam asked, his voice shaky. “They’re gonna torture us double tomorrow or something, right?”

“Thinking about it won’t help,” Cordell muttered. “Just enjoy the break while we have it, alright?”

Liam didn’t seem convinced but there wasn’t anything Cordell could do about that either.

The silence was broken by a cacophony of noise from the vent in the ceiling. After Julia had been taken away, it had been silent out there. It sounded like they were bringing someone else in. Cordell felt sorry for whatever poor soul had been dragged into this mess with them.

A shrill voice filtered down the vent. “-of shit! Where’s my brother?! What did you do to him?!”

Cordell’s blood turned to ice in his veins. He knew that voice. He shouldn’t be hearing that voice here. And, based on the look of horror on Liam’s face, he recognized it too. “Stella?” he called through the vent. “Stella, is that you?”

“DAD?!”

Shit . “Stella, what happened?”

“I- I don’t- It’s a long story. Is August with you?”

“No, but-”

“Fuck! They must’ve taken him somewhere else. I didn’t- They knocked us out when they- I haven’t seen him since-”

“Stella, Stels, it’s okay,” Cordell called back. “Just- Take a breath. He’s gotta be somewhere in here. But you need to keep your voice down. They can’t hear us talking like this, okay?”

“O-Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s gonna be okay. I’ll get us out of here, I promise.”

He shouldn’t be making promises like that. Not with everything going on right now. But what else was he supposed to say to his daughter?

Liam grabbed his arm. “We’re going to be okay, Stella,” he said. “We’ll figure this out. Just- Just hold on for a bit.”

“Okay….” They heard her sniffle and Cordell shook his head to clear the image of his baby girl crying from his head.

He didn’t know how they were going to pull this off or how long it would take. But he was going to get his children out of here, come hell or high water. These bastards were going to pay for hurting his family.

—-------------

The worst torture out of everything they were put through, Liam thought, was that they had no idea what was being done to the kids.

The waterboarding was bad, sure. The electric shocks were no picnic. The mind games were traumatizing on a whole new level. But nothing scared him more than the fact that Stella and August could be facing something similar, or maybe even worse than what he and Cordell were contending with. Even with the vent, they couldn’t hear everything that was happening to Stella and he didn’t know if she would be honest with them if he asked. And they didn’t even know where August was being held.

“We have to do something,” he said to Cordell one night. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been there; he just knew it had been too long. “Who knows how much longer they’re going to wait for you to snap or whatever they want out of you?”

“You think I don’t know that?” his brother hissed. “There’s just- I don’t know what to do. We don’t know the layout of this place or how many guards there are. We don’t even have any weapons.”

Liam nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I know…. So we can’t take the fight to them. We need to bring it to us.”

Cordell furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

Liam hummed. “Do you remember that thing Thor and Loki did in that one movie? When they needed to distract the guards?”

His brother looked confused for a moment, then grinned as he remembered. “Never thought you’d be the Get Help type.”

Liam shrugged and chuckled. “Hey, it’s a good plan.”

It was a good plan. And one easily implemented a few days later after Liam had a particularly rough session. The guards took Cordell’s threat of suicide if Liam died very seriously and the brothers were able to catch them all off guard and disarm them. If Liam had the mental capacity for anything but relief in that moment, he might’ve been worried that it was all a little too easy.

Instead, he grabbed a gun and watched as Cordell pushed one of the guards against the bars of their cage. “Where’s my son?” he hissed, putting just enough pressure on the man’s trachea to encourage an answer.

“First floor, cell 5,” he wheezed.

Cordell let him fall to the ground and grabbed Liam’s arm, leading him away. “We’ll go upstairs and get Stella first, then we’ll find Augie.” Liam nodded and silently handed him one of the pistols he’d grabbed.

They stealthily made their way up the stairs to where they thought Stella’s cell was. Liam was a little unnerved by the lack of activity upstairs. Then again, maybe they just figured they didn’t need much security for someone as small as Stella. He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

They found her room relatively quickly. Stella looked up when they opened the door and almost sobbed when she saw them. Liam tried not to think too hard about the state she was in. They had her now; that was the most important thing.

As soon as her cell door was open, she rushed over and practically jumped into Cordell’s arms, hugging him tight. “Thank God you’re okay,” she whispered. “I-I heard fighting and-”

“It’s okay,” Cordell murmured. “You’re okay. We’re okay. We just need to get your brother and then we’ll be out of here, alright?”

Stella let go of him just long enough to grab his hand and they left together. Liam followed them, quickly grabbing Stella’s other hand. They weren’t going to be separated anytime soon. “Where’s Augie?” Stella asked as they headed downstairs.

“They said he was in one of the cells on the first floor,” Cordell muttered. “We also need to keep an eye out for other prisoners. I know there’s at least one more, a woman named Julia.”

They stealthily made their way downstairs and found a hallway lined with small cells. Cordell starting looking into doors on the left side of the hallway, Liam took the right. He saw a woman in one of the doors and he used the key they’d swiped to open the door. “Julia?” he asked quietly.

The woman quickly turned around. “Who are you?”

“My name is Liam Walker. We’re getting out of here.”

“Liam, I found him!” Cordell called from further down the hall. Liam tossed the keys at him and he opened the door.

“I recognize that voice,” Julia murmured, pushing past Liam and into the hallway. He looked over her head to see August stumble out of his cell. He winced seeing the bruises on him but he tried not to think too hard about that. His nephew was alive and that’s what was important.

“Is this everyone?” Liam asked quietly as they headed down the hall.

Cordell nodded. “Should be,” he muttered, arm wrapped firmly around August, who Liam noticed swaying in his father’s hold. Liam wasn’t surprised given how small these calls were. Poor kid’s legs were probably asleep.

They kept moving until they reached a loading bay, and that was when the trouble started. Alarms were going off and they barely had a chance to hide behind some crates before there were armed men running all over the place. None of them dared to even breathe until the area was cleared out and they made their escape through the now-open garage doors.

“You go ahead,” Cordell said. “Get the kids to safety. I’ll be out in a second.”

“What? No!” Liam gripped his arm. “You promised. You have to come with us. This may be our only chance!”

“Liam,” Cordell pleaded. “I know what’s in those boxes. I’ve seen that symbol before; it’s bad news.” He gripped Liam’s arm just as tight. “I need to handle this and I need you to trust me. I. Will. Follow. You,” he promised.

Reluctantly, Liam nodded and let go. “Come on,” he said, taking Stella and August by the arm and running out with them.

Liam had never been more happy to see Larry James in his life than he was that day.

They were free. They were safe. They would be okay.

—-----------

It was over. They were out. Free. Arrests were being made all over the state and Mama was making a roast at home. All they had to do now was wait for the rangers to finish up the interviews and then they could go home.

Cordell stepped into the atrium where Stella and Liam Were already sitting silently. His heart broke seeing them. They looked so battered, broken even. August wasn’t out yet but he didn’t think his son looked much better. And it was all Cordell’s fault. Whatever he did to make these crazy bastards interested in him- that was why they were taken. That was why they were held captive, tortured, and worse. He was never going to be able to make this up to them but he was sure as hell going to try.

He smiled as best he could and made his way over to them. “Hey…” He slowly sat down in the free chair. “How are we feeling? Okay?”

“Yeah,” Liam said quietly. Stella didn’t answer, staring at her hands.

“Stel?”

“Better than I was in that cage,” she finally muttered, still not looking at him.

Cordell nodded. “Yeah. I think we’re all a little better now that we’re out. Once your brother is done we can go home and finally eat some real food. How does that sound?”

She shrugged. “Is he okay?”

“Uh- Yeah. Yeah, your brother’s fine,” Cordell assured her. “A little shaken, sure, we all are. But that’ll go away in time.”

She nodded silently, still looking at her hands.

Cordell looked at Liam, silently asking for help. He didn’t exactly expect Stella to be a ray of sunshine right now but this defeated silence was almost more than he could bear. He expected Stella to be angry at him, to blame him and refuse to look at him with more defiance in her eyes. He knew torture could change a person; lord knows he had experience with it. But thinking that this whole mess scarred her this much- He couldn’t think about it like that. He just knew there was something else wrong, some other reason for her odd behavior.

Liam just looked back at him.

He sighed. He was going to have to do this in his own bumbling way then. “Stel, honey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“How did they get to you? When they took you. What happened? Did they grab you from the ranch or something?”

Stella avoided his gaze. “Is that important? I already talked about everything with Uncle Larry for the report.”

“Stel, I need to know what happened. Those people shouldn’t’ve been able to get to you.” The way she was avoiding his question made him nervous. What had happened? Was it just too hard to talk about? “Did something happen at the ranch? Or the Side Step?”

Stella shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that….”

“Then what happened?” Liam asked. “I know this is hard to talk about but we need to know how to help you heal.”

Stella still didn’t look either of them in the eyes; she focused her attention on picking at her nails instead. “.... It’s my fault.”

His heart dropped. He should’ve guessed she was blaming herself. She probably appointed herself as August’s guardian since she had nothing else to do to help. That just wouldn’t do; none of this was her fault. “Stella, that’s not true.”

She shook her head. “It is. I- You were both gone and I-I couldn’t just sit around doing nothing about it. I wanted to help so I came to ranger HQ and asked what I could do. Uncle Larry put me on the tip line and told me what to do. He gave me the script and told me how to register everything.” She swallowed hard. “I… I got a call from someone who said she’d seen where they took you but she wouldn’t say anything more than that until she got a reward. I was gonna tell someone but the other rangers were all off on a lead or something and… I panicked a little….”

Cordell really didn’t like where this was going. “Stella, did you agree to meet this person?”

She nodded, still not looking him in the eye.

“And you took your brother with you?”

“I didn’t want to,” she whispered. “I wasn’t even going to tell him. He just found out when I was looking for the money she asked for….”

Cordell put all his energy into gripping the edge of the table instead of flying off the handle at his daughter. “But you did take him along,” he said, trying to keep his voice as even and calm as possible.

“He wouldn’t let me go alone. I told him not to but he said he would tell Mawline if I didn’t bring him so… Yeah, I took him with me.”

“So… You both went to meet this person without telling anyone what you were doing and where you were going?”

She nodded.

Cordell was probably going to break the table soon with how hard he was gripping it. Didn’t she know how stupid that was, how dangerous? “And what happened then?”

“Well, we got to the meeting place and… And Shannon was there with a couple guys. I… We tried to just give her a little money and take her info to see if it was real but she didn’t take the deal. Then these guys showed up and shoved us in a van. I saw one of them hand her a bag of money…..”

“That must’ve been terrifying,” Liam said before Cordell could say anything. “You’re safe now though. Both of you. It’s going to be okay.” He reached across the table and squeezed Stella’s hand.

Cordell nodded. “Yeah. That’s all that matters. You’re both okay. And they probably would’ve found a way to get to you two regardless.” She didn’t have to be so stupid about it but at least this whole mess was behind them now and Stella learned a very important lesson the hard way. They just needed to go home, eat some real food, get some sleep, and things would look better in the morning.

Suddenly, Cassie came bursting into the atrium, practically running over to their little table. “Hey, uh, so… Cap wants me to take you guys to the hospital and run a few tests, make sure everythings a-ok. I know the EMTs cleared you guys but, yaknow, never hurts to be careful….”

Cordell was happy for the distraction from the current conversation but he wasn’t sure this was a better one to be having. “Okay, fine. Shouldn’t we wait for August to come out first?”

“Uh… Yeah, so….’bout that…” Cassie avoided his eyes. “We got his statement and everything and he got up to leave the room and just- He just started having a seizure. Emergency services are on the way….”

Cassie kept talking but Cordell couldn’t hear a word. Something bad had happened to August, something bad enough to put him in the hospital. And it only happened because these people chose to target Cordell. And also because Stella decided to abandon all reason and logic while he was gone. “Where is he?”

“You really should just wait until the professionals get here,” Cassie said, holding up a hand in front of his chest. “I’m not a doctor but I know you need to give a person space when they’re having an episode like that. Trey’s keeping an eye on him right now. Once the ambulance gets here, we’ll all go to the hospital, okay?”

Cordell nodded stiffly. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

He glanced back at Stella and Liam, who were still holding hands, and clenched his jaw.

So much for being okay in the morning….

—---------------

It felt like hours before they were able to talk to the doctor about August. While they waited, the whole family got a more extensive checkup (and some very nice pain medication prescriptions). They were fine, thankfully, aside from all the trauma. But Cordell didn’t have time to think about that.

He sat stiffly in his chair in the waiting room, glaring at the door that led to the rest of the hospital. The doctor would have to come through them eventually and tell him how his son was doing. Next to him sat Liam, in between him and Stella.

“He’s going to be okay,” his brother said, filling the stuffy silence. “August is stronger than we give him credit for.”

Neither Cordell nor Stella responded.

An eternity later, a doctor came in. “Family of August Walker?”

Cordell was up first, his brother and daughter on his heels. “How is he? What’s wrong with him? Is he going to be okay?” he asked.

“Mr. Walker, please slow down,” the doctor said. “August is stable at the moment, which is all we can ask for. As for how he’s doing….” He sighed. “I”m not sure what to tell you. We ran some tests and so far all we know is that he’s sustained some level of minor to moderate brain damage, likely from repeated heavy blows to the head, which is consistent with other injuries on his body. We won’t know the full extent of the damage until he wakes up, which will ideally happen within the next 48 hours.”

Brain damage echoed in his skull. “What- What do you think we’re looking at here?”

The doctor shrugged. “We won’t know for sure until he’s awake but it’s likely we’re looking at limited motor functions and possibly reduced cognitive abilities. We’ll do everything we can to help him recover and give your family the tools to cope but given his current state, I’d count your blessings that you still have a son.”

He nodded numbly while the doctor talked about possible treatments and therapies. He was sure they’d get all kinds of pamphlets and booklets once August was being discharged so he wasn’t too worried about listening at the moment.

August had brain damage. Whatever the severity may be, he was going to be changed forever. There was no cure, no fix, nothing but a bunch of long term treatments and management tools.

“Is Augie going to be okay?” Stella asked as the doctor walked away, tears in her voice.

In any other circumstance, he would’ve hurried to reassure her that things would be fine. That August would be okay. That their family would be whole again soon.

But he couldn’t. Not this time. Not after everything he heard today.

“How could he be okay?” Cordell snapped. “He’s hospitalized with a goddamn brain injury and probably a boatload of psychological trauma to boot!”

“Cordi….” Liam warned, but Cordell ignored him, stepping forward into Stella’s space. 

“This is all your fault! You should’ve known better than to go after that damn call in the first place! I know me and your mother raised you better than to go meeting shady people without telling anyone! And it’s your fault August got mixed up in all this! Look at him! He’s going to be in recovery for weeks because of your stupidity and even after that he’s going to be living with the consequences of your actions for the rest of his life! I mean, did you really think this would turn out better?!”

While he ranted and raved, Stella stood there silently, tears streaming down her face. Good .

“Cordi that’s enough.” Liam’s voice finally broke through his rage as his brother pushed him out of the room. “I get it, you're mad, and you have every right to be. But she’s feeling guilty enough as it is and you yelling at her isn’t going to make August any better.” He pushed Cordell toward the other side of the waiting room towards a set of doors leading into a common area. “Talk a walk and cool off. Don’t come back until you can act like a rational person.” Liam left him there and went back into the room. Through the little window in the door, Cordell could see Liam hug Stella and wipe away her tears.

Cordell turned on his heels and stormed down the hallway. He couldn’t look at either of them right now.

#angstober2023 #face the consequences #walker #fic #torture tw #hospital tw #brain damage tw #walker fic #my writing #my fic

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Genesis —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: The last enemy Cat will have to defeat is her horny ass and she's not gonna win that fight I fear -Danny

Warnings: NSFW ahead!! Oral (male receiving), a bit of touching naked bodies and a lot of kissing.

Words: 2,125

Phase Six Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Snow on the beach’ -by Taylor Swift ft. Lana Del Rey

ix: C.C. Lives An "If"

Parker got up the next day in no mood to be a real person. He dragged his feet in the direction of the couch and sat down beside her, she placed a cup of tea in front of him.

"You didn't tell me if you got it," she reminded him.

"Get what?" Her friend said sleepily.

"A date for prom," Cat rolled her eyes. "What were you looking for last night, genius?"

He groaned. "Yeah, I got it."

"Where is it?"

"My suit."

She went to the bathroom, searched in the pockets of his spider-man attire, pulled out a vial that had no web fluid in it, and went back to the room to get her coat. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" Parker straightened in his seat and winced a little, he'd pulled on the stitches on accident.

"To put this in your computer," she replied, shaking the vial in her hand. "Rest, you need to get better if you wanna help me."

"I'm okay," he tried to get up.

"You get up and I'll break your kneecaps," she snapped.

Parker sat down again, his hands up in surrender and wincing again.

"Good boy," she nodded once. "Be right back."

Nursing Parker back to health was tough work, he couldn't stay still for long enough. He lacked what Cat liked to call common sense. She'd also tried to run while severely injured the night he'd come back, but at least back then she had an excuse to be running.

At least his metabolism was considerably faster than a regular human's, so by the end of the week, his injury was nothing but a pinkish scar. She hadn't offered to help him clean the wound after the first night, she didn't trust she'd be able to keep her hands on safe territory, standing so close to him while half-naked.

If her Peter could see her now, he'd tease her endlessly, fighting against the urge to throw herself at a different version of the boy felt like a cruel joke, to have Peter Parker back only to lose him again. Next to having a family, having Spider-man around was always good comfort, but this was just inconvenient. He wanted her, and she still didn't understand why, when she was so problematic.

"I'm back!" Parker announced from the bathroom.

The young woman was in the kitchen, staring at the young man's laptop with a scowl hoping it would feel pressured to work faster. She didn't reply to her friend at all, too focused on her task. Parker walked into the room with nothing but a white shirt and his boxers, too used to her presence to actually care about wearing proper clothes.

"Always great to be welcomed warmly," he joked.

Cat's eyes were glued to the screen. "My tech wouldn't have taken this long to crack into a defense satellite."

"Yeah, yeah, your world's much cooler than mine," he walked up to her and stared at the laptop over her shoulder. "We still have better doughnuts."

"I said that one time and you take it like an absolute truth," she walked away from the kitchen. "You ate?"

"No, but I'm too tired for that," he yawned. "You?"

"Hungry or tired?"

"Your pick."

"I'm bored."

"Told you to come with me," he said, joining her in the living room.

"I don't want people to get used to me. Imagine the bad guys preparing to fight two of you but there's only one, they would kill you—"

"Jane you are such a beam of sunshine," he interrupted her, leaning his head on the back of the couch.

Cat turned off the tv and looked at him sternly. "I'm serious. It wasn't a good idea to accept the suit."

"Have you ever noticed," he said squinting a little, "that you regret everything you do as soon as things start to end? You did the same when little Pete erased your memory. You said you regretted hurting him."

"It's different."

"Nah-uh," he retorted, moving to face her. "Now you feel like you might leave this place, you think you shouldn't have gotten so comfortable in my world, that I'll be miserable, right?"

She didn't want to reply, Cat stared at the laptop far behind on the kitchen aisle.

"Is that how you felt when your brother died too?" He pressed.

The young woman swallowed with difficulty, she nodded once.

"I told you before," she said quietly. "I liked my Peter so much that when he vanished it took away the only part of me that had a purpose. I was never the same after that." She looked into his eyes, almost begging. "I felt a little like when I was sixteen while being in this world with you, but I don't want to leave you feeling like that. You've gone through enough already."

Parker tilted his head a little, staring at her softly. "You only changed for the better, Cat. The hurt made you more human. It gave you a real heart. You're everything that's right in your world... in any world."

She remembered Tony's note saying she was the best of them, the fact that Parker agreed on this with a person he didn't like... she was touched.

"You looked after others because no one else would, in your own way," he shrugged. "How is that failing?"

"I just wish..." she blinked rapidly, looking up and taking a quick breath.

"What?"

She groaned, rubbing her eyes roughly. "I wish I could be fully happy just once. Like when I was sixteen."

Parker reached out and caressed the side of her face with his knuckles, he pushed a few curls away from her eyes. "I could make you happy," he replied, voice barely a whisper.

"Dammit," Cat closed her eyes, and she sobbed briefly. "I got a crush on Peter Parker twice!" She whined. "It's a curse..."

The young man chuckled, his thumb stroking her skin. "I count it as a blessing."

"I know, you're lucky to have caught my eye, I'm a sex machine."

Parker laughed, he leaned in. "Don't ruin it, Jane..."

She opened her eyes. The hero's gaze was sweet, everything about it felt like the instant where it's cold outside but your bed is warm and cozy and you have five minutes to spare, she wanted to snuggle deeper into the blankets. She also wanted to fully ruin the moment like she always did, but his hold was unwavering, just like his stare, he'd got her right where he wanted her. His smile grew.

They kissed.

Cat held onto the arm that was supporting his weight on the couch, she pushed herself up and leaned into him. Parker kept her face in place, making sure that she would not slip out of reach, his fingers dug through her curls and landed on the back of her head, deepening the kiss.

He'd been wanting to do that for a while and Cat could tell, she was enjoying it a bit too much to believe she hadn't thought about it more than once too. Her hands pulled him closer by the shoulders and she heard him chuckle against her lips.

"You think is funny?" She mumbled in annoyance. "Why you Parkers always laugh—"

"Can't be because we're happy?" He teased her, kissing her jawline.

"My Peter did the same thing when—"

"Don't," he was quick to interrupt her. "Stop calling him that."

"What?" She blinked.

"Why is he your Peter and I'm a last name? Why can't I be your Peter?"

"You know why."

He frowned, but it looked childish. "I get that at first it was to stop the confusion but it's just me now, and you still call me Parker."

"If I call you Peter, you won't be my Peter. Being Parker makes you someone... someone that can coexist with my past."

He thought about it for a moment, and in the end, he sighed heavily, eyes landing on her lips. "Promise I'm not a stranger in your life?"

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me we're friends."

Cat looked at him with a grin. "This is not how I treat my friends..."

"Liar."

He kissed her again, that time felt desperate. His body moved forward and trapped her against the couch. Cat cupped his face and kept him close, trying to give him room so he fit above her comfortably.

"Just this once," he requested, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck. "Let me be your Peter..."

"Okay," she gave in, sighing a little. "Okay, Peter."

His arms wrapped around her waist and suddenly she was lifted from the couch, Cat yelped and wrapped her legs around him. "You're gonna hurt yourself!" She exclaimed in alarm.

"Oh, don't play dumb, you know I'm okay," he snorted. "I was only spoiling myself a little before you switched back to being mean."

"You're a pain in my ass," she said, too flustered with his response.

"I can rub it off you if you like," he pinched her thigh playfully.

Parker —Peter— lowered her onto the bed, he was grinning widely while taking off his clothes. Cat supported her weight on her knees, staring at him and thinking deeply.

"Come closer."

The young man chuckled, he just couldn't stop smiling. Cat didn't know why, but she felt challenged by it. She wanted to see if he could still laugh while she had her hands on him. The mutant grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him onto the bed.

"So..." she straddled his hips. "You're cured."

"You can see for yourself," he placed her hand where his new scar was.

"Hmm," she said caressing it lightly. "I'm done being nice, then." Cat grabbed the hem of his boxers and gave him a questioning look, Peter only lifted his hips as an answer. "Good boy," she pulled the underwear down and threw them aside. "Stay still."

"Cat—"

"My name is Jane," The young woman hushed him. "You said you wanted to be mine, remember?"

"Yes."

"Then let me do what I want with you, and be quiet." Peter closed his mouth and his eyes widened eagerly. He looked so keen to please her... Cat moved down on him, her right hand making its way up to his hips. "How long has it been since the last time you slept with someone?" She asked casually.

Peter's gaze was on her hand. "A while."

"Months?"

"Maybe. Maybe more."

She pouted. "That's not good, is it?"

"Probably not," he squirmed. "Can I kiss you?"

"No," she smirked. "And you can't move, either."

Peter breathed in harshly when she touched him, his whole body reacted to it. Cat liked it when people were this expressive about physical contact. It made it more fun. "Look at that," her thumb drew small, slow circles on the tip of his cock. "You're so touch-starved... I shouldn't like it, but it's so cute..."

"Your hand is so freaking cold," he complained, but it didn't look like he was hating it.

"I'm sorry baby, let me warm it up," she mocked him.

Cat grabbed his member with both hands. "Shit!" Peter closed his eyes and grabbed fistfuls of the sheets. He didn't dare to look directly into her eyes at the moment. "Don't stop..."

"Again with the orders," she clicked her tongue, moving away for a moment. "If you can stay quiet for five minutes, I'll let you touch me. Deal?"

"Yes!" He urged her. "Just keep going!"

Cat laughed, shaking her head. "You're adorable."

She went down on him, and Peter hummed long and heavy. That would've been a beautiful moan had she let him make a sound. Half-regretting her decision, she kept going, hoping the five minutes could go by faster that way.

Cat massaged the sides of his v-line with her thumbs, she'd been dying to touch that part of his body for longer than she'd like to admit. He was warm and soft, and she would definitely leave a mark there later.

Peter was almost shaking, all his muscles were tense, but he was still quiet. When the urge to breathe was too much she moved and left a small kiss on the patch of skin above his pelvis. Cat heard him inhale so deeply and desperately that she almost laughed.

The five minutes were over, so she sat up.

"Well done!" She cleaned the corner of her lips. "Extra points for holding back your moans— I really thought you'd—"

Parker didn't let her finish, he wrapped his arms around her, initiating a kiss that was urgent and rough. She felt him twitching against her thigh, so she snuck a hand between their bodies to grab him again. However, Peter caught her hand at the last second and moved it in a different direction, right to her center.

"Let me make you happy..." he whispered against her collarbone.

Cat looked at him in silence, she was still wearing clothes, but his left hand was slowly riding up the hem of her blouse, stroking her skin with such tenderness she felt dizzy. "Just a one-time thing," she wasn't sure who she was talking to when she said it. "Don't get your hopes up..."

A flash of something she didn't recognize went through Peter's eyes, but he didn't say anything. He took off her blouse.

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

@mikaelsonwhxrebae​​​​ @ieatpanicattacksforlunch​​​​​​​​​​ @jesuswasnotawhiteman​​​​​​​​​​ @siriuslysirius1107​​​​​​​​​​ @greengarsstuff​​​​​​​​​​ @itsyagirl01 @23victoria​​​​​​​​​​ @espressopatronum454​​​​​​​​​​​ @jkthinkstoomuch

#twoidiots writing #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel original character #copycat fic

[kayhi808]

More Than Our Scars - Part 6

Appointments with Dr. Krista Dumont was scheduled by Anvil's insurance company. You can't have an active agent that's mentally unstable, let alone the CEO. At first, meetings with Dr. Dumont were helpful. She taught Bill how to deal with his anxiety. How to deal with his scars.  The old Bill was a vain man. Suits fit perfectly. He kept his body in top shape, hair styled just so, neatly trimmed beard. He was extremely handsome. A failed mission, amnesia, injuries, irreparable facial scarring does a lot to a man's self-esteem & self worth. Lately, she has been asking more about details of the mission itself & what he can remember. Bill has a gut feeling that these weren't normal evaluation questions.

Curiosity got the better of her, "What happened to your hand?"

Bill flexes his fingers & smiles down at his bandaged hand, "Rabid puppy bite."

"You got a pet?" He shrugs but says nothing. "Your scars are healing very nicely." Dr Dumont studies his face & it annoys Bill. "You're almost 6 months into your recovery, Bill. You've achieved a lot in a very short time."

"Wiping my own ass again. That was a real milestone," knee bouncing as he stares at the ceiling of her office.

"We've talked about this. Be kind to yourself. Hang in there."

She rests her hand on Bill's, but before he can pull away, his phone rings. He see's its you calling him, so he gets up and moves away from Dumont. "Hey. (Pause) Nah, I'm finishing up. We started late. I'll get outta here soon. Were you calling for something? (Pause) I can pick it up on the way home. I'll see you in a bit." He shoves his phone back in his pocket. "Are we through here?"

"Bill, you need to take this seriously & participate," irritated because of the interruption or his lack of engagement, Bill couldn't tell. "Your snide comments are not helping you." Nods at his phone, "Who were you talking to?"

"Nobody," slouching down in his chair.

"I ask because you seem very comfortable. Your guard wasn't up. I haven't seen you like that."

"Yea, well. They don't pry & prod at me."

"Is that  how you feel about our sessions?"

Bill emits a soft growl & stands, "I think our hour is up. Thanks, Doc." He gives a lazy salute & leaves the office.

*****

After the debacle that happened in the lobby of Anvil, Billy was able to calm you down & reassure you that he had zero intention of letting any harm come to you. He had a medic over to wrap your ribs to prevent any more damage & to clean the bite you left on his hand. Luckily, no stitches were needed, yet you were filled with remorse. You believe Bill when he promises that he'll make Kingpin pay with his life. You have mixed feelings about that. You've prayed for Fisk's demise, but you don't want a death on Billy's conscience. Unbeknownst to you, your new roommate is a US Marine Corp Scout Sniper with 137 confirmed kills to his name.

Bill comes through the door with arms loaded down with groceries. You walk over "Here, let me help you."

"I got it," giving you an insulted look & angling the bags out of your reach. You follow him into the kitchen.

"Did you have to wait? They were supposed to have everything ready for pick up, " you ask nervously.

Dumping the bags on the counter, "Everything was set. What the hell did you buy?" He see's you tense, "Not that I care. I said you could buy what you needed."

"You lived quite the bachelor life. You don't even have the basics in your pantry. I had to restock."

"You don't need to do this, I'm fine with picking up food."

"I don't mind at all. I enjoy cooking. I used to be a chef before...before," you trail off. You busy yourself with putting things away. Billy gently tugs on your hair as you walk away. He follows & puts things on the higher shelves you can't reach without hurting your ribs.

"So what's on the menu for tonight?"

"You look like a steak & potatoes kind of guy. I figure that was a safe bet until you tell me what you like." Bill breaks into a grin, so you probably guessed right. "I'm sorry too that I interrupted your session with your doctor. I didn't mean to . I didn't want you to return only to go back out again. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I was done. It's too much talking for me."

You smile to yourself because you're not surprised to hear that, "Man of few words." You turn around from the cupboard to find Billy directly behind you, intruding in your personal space, "Shit," the smile falling from your lips.

Billy slowly leans over & brushes his lips across your cheek to whisper in your ear, "I don't always need words to convey what I want." The low almost rumble-like tone makes you break out in goosebumps, your nipples pebbling to aching buds beneath your shirt just by his voice alone. He pulls back slowly & his goatee tickles your neck. You can't help but stare. He smirks & cocks an eyebrow at you. You nod & he buries his hands in your hair & his mouth slants over yours. He hasn't kissed you since that night in his office. You almost thought it was a dream. But this is real. The smell of him. His taste. The way he feels against you. This was all Billy Russo. Your tongue slides against his & he leans into you, pressing his erection against your belly. You moan into his mouth & his kisses become more devouring. He slides his hands under your shirt & stops kissing you. He takes in a ragged breath & rests his head on the top of yours & pulls you to his chest, with his arm hugging you around your shoulders & neck.

"Wh...what's wrong? Why...did you stop?"

His hands glide along your shirt over your ribs. They are still tightly wrapped. "You're still healing. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me." He smiles at you.

"Take a deep breath for me." You can't, because it'll be very painful. You were just in a kiss drunken haze created by Mr. Russo. You want him.

"Maybe if you were really gentle..."

Laughs harshly, "If I...WHEN I  fuck you, I'm going to be far from gentle, sweetheart."  He tilts your chin up and kisses you. “Never say I wasn’t a gentleman.”  Groans, "I need a cold shower."

“I hate you.”

“Soon, darlin’“

“I’m burning your dinner. You’re getting a well-done steak.”

You hear a true laugh from him & minutes later you hear the shower running.

A smile creeps onto your face. He didn’t say IF. He said WHEN.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @jvanilly

#billy russo #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo fic #billy russo s2 #billy russo x reader #billy russo x y/n

[sassygwaine]

for the writer meme (lotsa good ones here and i couldn’t pick so feel free to skip some if u want): 1, 2, 4, 5, 7/8, 14!

i am skipping 7/8!! otherwise i will spend too much time in my documents and not actually taking the break i’m supposed to be taking :p

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

whump, hurt/comfort

i really like to be a soup with the misery and pain, and then also the balm after.

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

secondary character who everybody loves is actually the villain

i don’t typically dabble in much action (altwss has some big departures from my comfort zone) but i would looove to play with the dramatic irony and making that reveal so fucking satisfying.

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

oh man

there’s a couple ofmd ones:

- the fantasy au, ofc

- there’s a lucius/pete college au i’m working on that’s truly just dissolving into smut, so who knows if that’ll ever see the light of day. essentially stede is lucius’s advisor, lucius has to take a gen ed credit in math, ed is his math professor—he does not know they are married to each other, just that they’re old and gay and married and in love with their husband(s) and he’s jealous and lonely. he meets pete in this math class.

- a ‘they’re lesbians harold’ canon au, which, you guessed it, mostly smut!!! but it’s got the really fun play of totally avoiding the end of ep 9 and ep 10 entirely bc truly women do it different. (you can’t tell me a gay woman in 1717 who managed to get away from her forced marriage would ever consider that place safe harbor to return to, regardless of her feelings of guilt!!!) so in this version, they escape together as planned and return to the revenge (it’s all very handwavy, as is tradition). the trick now is that stede has no idea if the kiss was a heat of the moment thing or if ed actually likes her…spoiler: yeah baby she fuckin loves you surprise!!!!!!

- and oh god there’s a line in practical magic that had me spiraling at a canon reunion exchange of:

“So, why don’t you do what you do, and I’ll do what I do, and we’ll see where we end up.”

- it’s fully likely only the fantasy au will be the only one of these i post…so enjoy my brain worms but don’t get too excited 😫

5. Share one of your strengths.

capturing complex emotions in words. my therapist always tells me she’s going to steal my metaphors.

it’s just the only way i know how to express my emotions because the words that belong to them don’t feel like enough!!!

14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

oh also follow up from previous

the conflation of ‘write what you know’ with ‘write only what you’re familiar with’

am i familiar with the fucking mob???? nah man i am playing house with my barbie dolls.

but i know pain, i know sorrow, i know hope and wanting so desperately to be worthy of the life that you had no choice but to receive, to not want to waste it and setting yourself impossible standards that you can never live up to and spiraling when you inevitably don’t meet them.

write things that are new to you. that’s why research exists.

#ask game #these are all very good questions i agree

[plutothe-pup]

RP RESOLUTIONS AND HABITS:

TW: .........i used a lot of memes............im sorry. idk how to be serious. im in a silly goofy mood idk. do u see the header u know what u signed up for ok

Real TW: very minor drug mentions.

Write your RPer Resolutions for 2024! (What are some goals for yourself as a writer? Improve descriptions? Plot with more members? Etc.)

Once again, I am asking myself to learn how to plot. That is going to be the theme here, just wait. Seriously though, I am pretty terrible at it. I do not like to approach people because I am........... idk weird. I am somehow anti-social even online and tend to just sit there twiddling my thumbs instead of reaching out. It's been a problem for me for literally ever. Sometimes I even get scared when people reach out to ME. But one year maybe we will get there. I also want to get back to regular activity. I've been really slipping these past few ... well, years I feel. I want to be more consistent at the very least, and not just post, disappear, spam, disappear, etc. I know I say this every time - but maybe just once: do a big plot. Do a big plot for yourself buddy. You can do it. Best Supporting character's get a sequel spin-off series one day, right. Just do it. JUST DO IT. I also feel like my writing recently compared to years ago has gotten poorer in quality. Idk what that's all about but I would like to improve that. Make proofreading a thing for me again 2024 or whatever.

me @ myself:

Write at least one resolution, or “goal,” that you have as an RPer for your character(s):

Oh - you....... you think I have GOALS? (tbh I think they align with my character's own. We're on the SAME TEAM)

Greg: RECONNECT WITH HIS PARENTS. This was like a silent plot I started literally over a year ago where Gregory got more and more distant with his parents until they stopped talking entirely and he moved out to live at R2F. He's been on and off about trying to reach out - and this is the year to do it. Also probably come to terms a bit more with his relationship with Zero. He's comfortable in it and loves Zero very much - but there's that voice in the back of his mind still saying that he'll leave. Sebastian: Get over his crush on Lo that he did to himself. I want him to fully accept uncle life. To get over his fear of hurting people. Milo: BREAK. HIS. CURSE. .........nah. That's not my goal for him this year lmfao. I want him to find his passion, actually. Will it be in working out and being a jock? Does he actually have a fond passion for cooking? Does he yearn for theater? Fawn: Get her into TROUBLE. I didn't really do much with this yet, but she's a TROUBLE MAKER. She's nearly been kicked out the hollow for god's sake. She is a TERROR. It's time to UNLEASH IT.

Write at least one resolution IN CHARACTER for your characters. What do THEY want to accomplish or change in the New Year?

Greg: Reconnect and apologize to his parents - but to do that... kick the minor drug problem first. Sebastian: Don't die. (.....i can't stress enough this man doesn't have outlooks) Milo: BREAK. MY. CURSE. Fawn: Discover a new creature in Enchantra! Befriend the creature! Train the creature! Sick the creature on Eboshi so it eats her and the forest is free again :)

List one or more characters you have never interacted with that you would like to do so:

.....disclaimer: I have bad memory now. soooooo. if we did interact and I list u here I am so sorry i am so so so so sorry.

Clarion: For obvious reasons, and also as stated above - Fawn is on mighty thin ice in the Hollow, so I think any interactions between them would be great and funny. And........ well maybe she gets kicked out oops. Doc: I'm not counting twitter interactions - I just think because of the whole Luca thing, I feel like Doc has flip flopped on his opinion of Milo multiple times and it would be funny for them to finally meet and talk. (and prove he's a good boi!) Any of TAM'S characters strictly because - I believe u have escaped me so far. Eluded. (That's not hard, as we discussed in point 1 I am very inconsistent) That should change!! ....I am sure the format of this post is very enticing...... sorry.

Talk a bit about your plotting style – what plots are you most drawn to? Do you prefer to come with a fully-formed idea and plot off that, or throw stuff at the wall and see what sticks?

And here dear reader we return to the beginning again. Roll credits: oh man, I simply do not. I am by default a 'buckle your seatbelts and lets just see wtf happens' kind of person simply because I am SO BAD at plotting in the first place! So many of my 'plots' revolve around other people's well equipped talents, or throwing my characters at opens/events/etc and seeing what disaster strikes. I'm just doing drive bys at all times of day.

Talk a bit about character relationships – what relationships are you most drawn to? How do you prefer to approach shipping (if at all!)? What, specifically, are you looking for right now for your character relationships? 

I love just good old fashion friendship and family relationships! Like I adore the relationship Milo has with Pip/King/Luca. The Greg/Jun relationship, Sebby and his bros. I think it's pure and good and writing BFFs getting into dumb things is my favorite. I also like BEEF. I am a fan of rough-housing so to speak. Drama? Sure. Pile it up. Beef? Grudges. Fights. Whatever. It is okaaaaay. I love a good ol' beefin' between people. Same as above. I barely plot as it is - but when I do, it's definitely not relationships/shipping. In fact, I don't really 'ship'. i don't plan around ships, I don't get characters for ships, I don't anticipate ships. If one develops while throwing fruit--- I mean characters at other people, then that's great! That's how.......... both of my current relationships are! Phineas and Fawn were completely random and not at all my intention but they vibed from the start and it happened to work out in the timeline. Gregory and Zero were incredibly unlikely but started talking here and there, and Z and I didn't really say........ anything to each other at all until they were kissing in Pixie's and even then - we didn't think they'd become a #thing. ..........which they did. So I'm pretty much just...... looking to expand on the ones I have? Explore Phawneas a bit and see what on earth is going on inside their head, see where Glo takes us. ............figure out if Seahound can survive not jumping each other's bones forever.

Plotting Exercise! Pick one of the resolutions/goals in #3 and plan a rough guideline to how you could accomplish it.

..........what if I said no, huh? I'm so BAD at this (it all comes back to it yanno)

GREG TALKS TO HIS PARENTS:

GREGORY and ZERO have a discussion post-Zero's parents coming to town, where ZERO tries to prod about what is going on between GREG and his parents, and Greg comes clean to him about the fight that happened between them. Zero gently offers to go with him to talk to them but Greg doesn't think it's time yet.

Still too uncertain, GREG asks IAN if his mum has said anything about Aubrey, or about Greg. He tries to gauge if his parents have been talking about him to their friends, if they're upset, or if they've moved on.

PLOT CALL: Gregory anonymously looks into sources for mental health, and tries to find people with experience in the same struggles he's had. He either forms or joins an anonymous online/twitter support group for such problems / group therapy.

Having overheard various times through the grapevine, GREG finds and approaches TAD to see if he can talk to him about his recovery and sobriety and find advice/guidance for that path.

Knowing that he might get the most brutal honest answers, GREG confides in JUN and asks his advice on what he should do or how he should handle it.

GREG finally bites the bullet and drags JUN and ZERO to his parents house for support to talk to them again after over a year of radio silence.

PHEW. A tough one.

Anyways. ...........................

my deepest apologies again. idk what happened. this did start serious but then it went off the rails. it's sincere between all the...... whatever that is.

#swyntask #Swyntask: Resolutions #........idk how to explain myself #or anything that happened in this post #so I won't #sorry #this is probs just best kept for myself #scroll by thanks

[bekahdoesnerdshit]

“Hey, Ace?”

“Yeah Cog?” 

Despite having been the one to break the silence, Cog is quiet for several moments. She picks at a loose thread dangling from hem of her shorts, weighs her words carefully, leans over to rest her head on Ace’s shoulder. “I’m gonna fix it,” she promises softly. “Your magic. I don’t know how, not yet, but... I’m gonna make this right. As soon as I’m strong enough.” Her hands curl into fists in her lap, and she turns to look up at him. “I’m close, I can feel it. I just- I need a little more time. But I promise, Ace. I’ll fix this.”

“I don’t know what ‘strong enough’ looks like yet,” she doesn’t say. “I don’t know if that means borrowing more power from Azrael, or waiting until I’m strong enough on my own. I don’t know if it means figuring out how to reverse what they did to you myself, or storming New Alexandria and forcing the Headmaster to fix it. I’d do any of that for you, you know. In a heartbeat. Please, don’t be too stubborn to let me do this for you.”

Ace’s expression is unreadable for several seconds longer than Cog is comfortable with, but when she opens her mouth to stumble her way through an apology or explanation he reaches up to rest a hand on the back of her head, pulls her in tight against his chest, and wraps his other arm around her in a hug so tight she can barely breathe. “...nah. Nah, kid. Don’t waste all that time worrying about me,” he says, resting his chin on top of her head. But his voice is soft, and he’s not letting her pull away, and Cog knows this man almost as well as she knows herself. She knows what that means. “You got a world to save. Don’t add more to your plate on my account,” he says, as though he isn’t her world. As though she wouldn’t leave the Wasteland to fend for itself if he asked her to stay here with him. 

Hidden against Ace’s shirt, Cog’s expression crumples. Even as she’s wrapping her arms around his middle she’s shaking her head well before he finishes speaking. “No. No, I- Let me call it selfish. If you feel like you can’t say yes for yourself, let me call it selfish. I want to be able to talk to you whenever I want, I want to know that I can heal you if you get hurt. I want you to be able to travel with us, so that I can show you everything wonderful about the world you let me see. Ace, I-- I’ve built my magic up so much around being able to use it to help, to protect, and you- I can’t protect you right now. I can’t touch you. If something were to happen, I--” Her voice breaks, and Ace pulls her closer. 

“...that bleeding heart of yours,” he murmurs after a second, shaking his head but leaning down to press a kiss to Cog’s hair. “You gotta be careful that you don’t bleed yourself dry, kid. You’re more than just what you can give people, you know? You matter ‘cause you’re you. Not because you’re chock full of magic.”

Cog doesn’t have an answer for that. She squeezes him tighter instead, and feels Ace return the gesture in kind.

They sit like that for a long time, quiet, together, taking comfort in one another. When Ace finally lets go enough for Cog to sit up and look at him, they’ve both largely regained their composure. “...There’s no point trying to talk you out of this, is there?” Ace asks. When Cog holds his gaze and resolutely shakes her head, he can’t help but smile. “I’ve been a terrible influence. Look at you, you’ve gotten as stubborn as I am, and almost as bad about picking fights without knowing if you’ll win them.”

Cog laughs with him while he says it, but as Ace stands and reaches down to pull her up too there’s a determination in her eyes that says, while Ace may be teasing, she most certainly is not. “I know I’ll win this one.” She says, resolute. “It’s just rewriting a fundamental law of magic. How hard could it be, anyway?”

The deep, belly laugh that earns her has Cog beaming. And, despite the circumstances that brought them here, the world feels just a little bit brighter as she loops her arm through her brother’s. And, despite the odds they’re facing now seeming insurmountable, Cog knows without a shadow of a doubt that there is nothing in this world they can’t face together.

#mine #cog #wasteland campaign #a short and sweet snippet from an interaction I'm expecting to have next session!! #<- so this tag is from when I started this post like a year and a half ago #this is a fucking RELIC LOOK at this. Azrael. WHO is that. you can literally carbon date when I wrote this based on that. #we were level 14. we're level 34 now. jesus christ. i was still in COLLEGE #DIDN'T FINISH IT THAT TIME EITHER WE'RE NOW THREE MONTHS POST CAMPAIGN. AND I'M STILL GONNA FINISH IT FUCK YOU #this is so old in my drafts it's bringing up the old post editor. man. #anyway I'm still clearing out my drafts. maybe i'll idk write something about how we DID fix him later and add it. idk probably not lmao

[dyrewrites]

random dialogue for that thing I'm not writing

“He looks so much like ol’ Darren...”

“You been around a long time, maybe he’s a descendant?”

“Would it be weird to ask him out?”

“Nah, dude’s like forty, even if he is that Darren whatever’s great great great grandkid, it’s not like he’s your kid.”

“But what if he doesn’t like men...or worse, me?”

“Use your vampire mojo, make him like you.”

“Oriana!”

“What? You can, can’t you?”

“That doesn’t mean I should. And you know that! I thought I raised you better...”

“You did, that’s why I didn’t suggest it first.”

“You shouldn’t have suggested it at all.”

“What about the thralls you feed on, aren’t they under your...you know?”

“No, they...they actually ask for that.”

“That’s nasty.”

“That’s gothic romanticism, flower, and we wouldn’t live so comfortably without it.”

—

“Wait, so all vampires keep their bitemarks?”

“Correct.”

“But you don't have any marks on your neck.”

“I wasn't bitten…on my neck.”

“Then where, ew, ew, don't tell me it's—”

“It isn't, but it is in that general area. Fortunate really, it allowed me to escape detection during the trials.”

“Who was your, are they called sires?”

“No, that's an invention of romanticism. We simply refer to them as master or maker. In rare instances even father/mother.”

“And yours was…?”

“Building a family tree are we, flower?”

“I'm just curious. Was he famous?”

“How do you know it was a he?”

“Dad. C’mon. Like your gay ass is letting a woman anywhere near your downstairs.”

“...point, though I could do without the color. His name was Lucient, we'll avoid the surname lest you take to the wires for it. He was beautiful, kind and altogether horrible.”

“So bad breakup.”

“Psychotic break more like, but it's not something you need concern yourself with. He is long gone.”

—

“She said it’s a tulpa, and I feel I should know what that is...but I don’t.”

“Simplest description would be a dream made manifest. And they’ve become quite the nuisance since the advent of the internet. Do you remember last year with that especially long-necked horse creature?”

“Oh, but he was so sweet! He didn’t hurt anyone.”

“Not physically, no, but his presence sent a number to the hospital for mental distress. Regardless of danger, we are incapable of destroying them—and it isn’t in our job descriptions to do so. If it’s capable of conversation, we’ll ask it to go elsewhere, otherwise we capture and relocate. Did she offer a description?”

“’Really big moth’...wait, does she mean the moth man? The moth man...is real?”

“Remind me to explain the difference between a cryptid and a tulpa to Ms. Fairweather next she rings, would you? And fetch the lamp, no, no, the Elizabethan lamp.”

“What does it matter what lamp, he’s a moth.”

“One does not stop in on old friends without a gift, flower.”

#i am not writing it #i am not #which is why it gets no pertinent tags