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skrunklybf-archived · 2 years

Text

bad influence!

pairing: step-brother!connie x reader x jean

warnings: dark content! step-cest! smut! mdni!!! maybe ooc?

tags: mfm threesome, dubcon(?), smoking weed, they're all high it's whatever, step-cest, unprotected sex, creampie, doggystyle, blowjob, swallowing, praise, pet names, almost getting caught, not proofread

notes: hi i'm not dead 🤪 take this connie/jean smut as a peace offering mayhaps?? reblogs are appreciated as always xoxo love you stay safe

"I know you have shit in here, so you better share or I'm snitching."

You raise your gaze from the game on your phone to the young men inviting themselves into your room. Jean leans back against the door and closes it with a soft click, much softer than the threat Connie entered with. You cock a brow, unamused.

"What?"

"You know what."

Connie, despite the faux menacing look he gives you, emits the familiar air of playfulness he's known for. He crosses the space between your door and your bed in record speed, diving for the little table next to your head. Dexterous hands scavenge through the drawers and ignore the annoyed protests you shoot at him.

"Dude, fuck off!"

"You fuck off," Connie dodges your swatting hands and plucks a tie-dye colored jar from the bottom drawer, "holding out on your poor, misfortunate brother. You should be ashamed of yourself." It'd be a surprise if you couldn't see the your own brain with how hard your eyes rolled themselves back.

Your step-mom had been adamant about Connie staying clean after a rather hilarious call she received from him at three in the morning, begging her to come pick him up from the side of the road. He'd gotten away with just a warning from a "generous" officer that night, meanwhile you had gotten plenty to make fun of him for and his mom gained a bargaining chip she'd been putting to good use. The house had never been more bleach-and-lemon scented.

"Oh, boo hoo," you fake cry, jutting your bottom lip out in a pouty fashion, "maybe don't get pulled over with your dumbass friends next time, Con."

"Hey," Jean pipes up from his stationary position at the door, seemingly offended but grinning all the while. Connie tosses the jar from hand to hand casually, trying to ignore the big doe eyes you shoot him in your little mockery scene. "Not my fault Sasha drives like a menace," he replies, twisting open the lid and taking a deep sniff of the flowery contents. Lost in an overdramatized state of bliss, he fails to notice you sitting up and snatching your weed jar right out of his hand. Connie whines at the loss. "C'mon, just smoke us up one time." he begs much like a puppy, even going so far as to clasp his hands together in a cartoony fashion.

Your lip twitches.

"Just me and Jean," he continues, "Sasha's on house arrest until further notice. Her dad was pretty pissed, won't let her leave."

A conniving and dark chuckle surprises your step-brother and his oddly quiet friend, coming straight from your chest. The little jar suddenly feels so heavy in your hand, weighed down like a giant golden poker chip. "So, you come to me in your time of need," you slur out dramatically, "on the day of my daughter's wedding--"

"Alright alright, cut the shit, you're weirding me out. What do you want? I already have to clean the damn house for two months."

Connie almost looks nervous before you, switching his weight between his feet. This is a strange sight for you; he's usually boisterous, carefree, charismatic. You pull your feet up to sit criss-cross on the bed. A thoughtful look passes over your face. "You gotta walk Scout--"

"Done."

"Okay, fiend, I wasn't done."

"Whatever you want, I don't caaaaare. Just smoke with us."

Jean was easy to forget about in the moment, sitting as a hopeful but cautious observer a ways away. You blink at him, off-color thoughts dripping into your sleepy brain like a shoddy faucet.

"Fine. Garage."

Okay, so maybe your mind wasn't pure and fluffy and wholesome, and maybe some would label you a dog for these fleeting thoughts that came to you in the strangest moments. Maybe you shouldn't be feeling that heavy, burning sensation in the pit of your belly when your step-brother takes an unnecessarily strong drag off the blunt, bathing his face in an orangey glow from the cherry. Connie always had a fresh face, a contagious grin that got to you in ways that it most likely shouldn't have, given your relationship.

Well, technically, your parents relationship -- one that began right as Connie was starting his freshman year of college -- but still.

He passes the blunt up to Jean in the passenger's seat, who had easily won the race you declared on the way to your car. "First hand on the hood gets the front seat," you announced, and the young men scrambled over each other like excited puppies to slap your poor Honda in victory.

Jean takes a normal, sane hit, pinching his bronze eyes closed to avoid the flying smoke. It almost feels mesmerizing watching these two through the haze. Invisible green hands relax your face into a look of contentment, massaging away any irritation Connie had sparked by interrupting your game. Behind you, your step-brother coughs into his fist dramatically, heaving out a big sigh once his lungs quit their spasming.

"You seriously saved the day," he says, letting his cheek rest against the side of your headrest. If you turned enough, your noses would touch. Amused, you take the blunt from Jean, quietly admiring how his long fingers hold the wrap so delicately.

"I'd say we owe you, but you're kinda evil, so I'll just say thank you," the brunette beside you adds. His voice has dipped low and gravely since you all started hotboxing, reaching a baritone that leaves your heart hammering.

"Evil? Wow," you reply flatly, "I feel the gratitude in waves."

Connie smacks Jean lightly on the cheek while you take your puff. "What he means is, your genius is only surpassed by the world's most prolific professors," he says in a much-too-serious tone, "like, y'know, Hannibal Lecter, or like, Dr. Evil."

Pulling up a leg to rest in your seat, you snort in laughter, thick white smoke billowing out from your nose.

"Thanks, Con."

"No problem, babe."

Jean guffaws before you can. "Did you just call her babe?"

Connie, golden eyes wide, throws himself back into the backseat. He waves his hand flippantly, as if he could bat away the subject. "What? No, shut up."

You and Jean whip yourselves around at the same time, shoulders pressed against one another. "You totally did." You tease, smirk wide on your face.

Connie melts into the dark fabric. A heavy warmth surges over his face. "I just, y'know, I'm usually a gentleman and I smoke girls up," he runs a hand through his short hair, "slip of the tongue."

Jean snorts, letting his gaze slide over to you in his peripheral. "And then you compare her to the girls you fuck. Interesting."

Your shared laughter embarrasses Connie more than it irks him, sending his hands flying up to scrub over his face. In a show of mercy, you pass the blunt back to the poor boy, fending for his life all alone in the back of the car. Connie pinches the wrap and suddenly smirks toward his friend, charged and ready. "Jean, I could end your entire career right now."

Curious, you lean back some and look at Jean next. He pauses, switching a suspicious gaze between you both.

"I dunno what you're talking about."

"Oh, bullshit! How many times have I caught you staring at her ass?"

Shock formed your mouth into a tiny 'o' first but unbridled amusement twists it into a devilish grin. "Is that so?" You nudge a finger harshly into Jean's bicep. The young man swats your hand away and shoots his friend a glare. Connie's cackling jumps around the cars walls, spurring your own laughter to bubble out and making Jean roll his eyes.

Wiping faux tears, you watch Jean snatch the blunt from Connie and take a pouty puff, his jaw tense. "Not sure how to take in this information, honestly. Who knew both of you weirdos wanted to fuck me?" You twist back around to lean properly against your seat. A victorious glow radiates from your warmed face, neck, chest -- even if it was all jokes, the idea sits heavy in your mind and lower belly.

"I think you're the weirdo for being so psyched about it." Connie says from behind, his usually chirpy voice dragging low, like he'd just woken up from a long nap. A few quick puffs burn the blunt to your fingertips and you pinch it out with freshly licked fingers.

"I don't hear either of you denying it." You chime, dropping the roach into your cup holder to deal with later. Jean, still awkwardly turned in his seat, looks back at Connie, and there's a moment of quiet that you get lost in, brain and body fuzzy from your high.

Inside the car, a sheen of smoke blankets over you three and beads sweat over your skin. The warmth feels more comforting than suffocating. Swirls of white and gray are barely illuminated by the dim blue nightlight inside the garage. It feels dreamy, almost ethereal in a strange way.

Jean pulls you back into the moment when he runs a large hand through his hair. He's relaxed into the seat, long legs cocked out enough that his knee threatens to knock into your hand on the center console. Connie leans forward, resting a hot hand over your shoulder. "It's hot as fuck in here, let's go inside."

"Alright, yeah. You guys go, I'm gonna park outside and air this baby out before heading in."

Connie squeezes your shoulder and all but rolls out of the backseat, stretching his legs and arms out like a sleepy kitten. Jean hesitates opening his own door beside you. He clears his throat. "Just so you know, I stare at your face too," his voice is quiet, like he doesn't want Connie to hear, and you quirk your brow at him curiously. He sputters for a second, "y'know, not just your ass. I mean, it's nice -- you have a nice ass. But like, that's not all that's nice. Your -- you --"

You cut him off with a giggle. "I'm glad you think my face is nice, Jean."

The low light was just enough to see the goofy grin grow over his face before he slid out, joining his friend at the door leading inside. Connie bumps into him playfully and the two stooges shuffle off, leaving you all alone in the smoky blue garage.

Heading in, you expect to spy the two raiding the fridge, or perhaps even locked away in Connie's room playing games. Instead, you find two men in your room, lazing around like they own the place. Connie sits in your computer chair, his slippered feet propped up onto a bare spot on your desk, while Jean sits at the foot of your bed, leaned back on both palms. Only Jean looks at you once you enter, his bronze gaze only slightly sleepy as it rolls over your form.

"Oh, hello," you quip, hand hovering over the doorknob. For some reason, it feels like you intruded on them, versus them plundering your room. Connie, in his stretched out position, nods too casually in your direction. A little bit of his stomach peeks out from under his shirt -- you can see the waistband of his boxers, stretching around the V shaped muscles that disappear under his sweats.

"Let's watch a movie." Connie reaches toward a few figurines you keep beside your monitor, itching to busy his hands with something or another. You look between the two, wondering if there's something you're missing -- but ultimately, you shrug, closing the door behind you.

Twenty minutes into a Marvel movie you've seen a thousand times, there's two hands on your thighs and not a single thought in your brain. Jean, on your right, squeezes gently every few moments, and the pressure feels so warm and comforting -- Connie, on the other side, swipes his thumb in a mesmerizing half moon, leaving tingles in its wake. Their skin is hot against your own.

The coyness surrounding you all is nearly suffocating. You want so badly to acknowledge the growing sense of want, of need in your center, but all you can do is stretch your legs out and lean back against the wall.

Connie lets his pinky fiddle with the hem of your shorts, between your legs. As small as the action is, it still draws a tiny gasp from you, something that doesn't go unnoticed by anybody. He glances over, a little smirk on his face. "Weirdo." he mumbles, but takes it as a good sign. His hand glides upward just the tiniest bit, spread wide and gripping at the soft flesh more eagerly. Jean follows suit, watching curiously as he trails his own hand upward, slipping a few fingers under your shorts and dangerously close to touching your panties.

Your legs react on their own. Knees bending, they butterfly out, allowing the men more access. There's no use in thinking any of it over; Jean has a hand on the side of your face, gently urging you over to look at him, and Connie messes with the crease where your thigh meets your pelvis before you can make any internal argument about it. Looking up at the brunette, you feel so vulnerable, a far cry from the cocky attitude you held in the car earlier. He smiles down at you, drinking you up, savoring the doe-eyes and the way your lips part when he leans in.

Lips slotted together, it feels effortless to kiss Jean, but it takes all your willpower not to gasp into his mouth when Connie retracts his hand, only to press directly over your clothed center. The heel of his palm digs into your clit through the thin layers of fabric, purposeful and direct, and he uses a finger to press between your folds. You end up losing the battle, but only partly, letting a little whimper loose against Jean's surprisingly soft lips. He slowly licks into your mouth and raises his hand to rest over your lower belly, dipping under your shirt to smooth over the warmed skin.

Your eyes are closed, body alight with so many exciting sensations you're not sure what to focus on. Regaining a moment of sense, you can feel yourself reaching for both of them, settling on their legs at your sides. It grounds you, anchors you, but it doesn't last long. Connie's chuckle sounds out beside you. "You're wet," he says, nudging your shorts aside to urge a finger against your underwear. "I can feel it through your panties."

Breaking away from Jean, the urge to pant and catch your breath is as tempting as it is embarrassing. You glance at Connie, looking at you like a hungry wolf, and slide your hands over both of their laps, somehow surprised to be met with strained fabric. "You're one to talk." You reply, gripping the noticeable bulges beneath your palms. Both of them utter a sort of groan, stretching themselves out to allow better access. Connie's dickprint could clearly be seen through his sweats, strapped to his thigh by a pair of boxer briefs, but Jean's dick laid more concealed beneath his dark jeans, the rigid fabric keeping you from getting a whole hand around him. You wonder for a moment how different their dicks looked -- how different they would feel, bare against your hand, your tongue, even stretching you out.

The clothes come off in a sort of frenzy, confidence blooming in your chest once the men were down to their underwear with their cocks begging to be freed. Suddenly, you lost the shy feeling of toeing around what you all wanted. You found your voice.

Straddling Jean's hips backwards, you face Connie, holding onto the brunette's strong thighs for balance. Jean teases his dick through your folds and gasps when you grind against him, brushing his head over your needy clit. Before you, at the foot of the bed, Connie leans back, legs spread so he can jerk off comfortably to the sight in front of him. Your eyes follow his movements -- working up the veiny shaft until dollops of pre ooze out from his flushed tip.

Jean's hands shift from groping and massaging your ass to gripping the supple meat of your hips, rocking you up and down as you slide your pussy over his cock. Arousal leaking, you're so wet he could slip right inside, given a good enough angle -- but he lets you move whichever way you want to, lets his eyes roll back with a groan.

"You wanna watch me fuck your best friend, Con?" You ask sweetly, voice tinted far too innocently for the hungry way you look down at him, splayed open on your mattress. Connie flicks his wrist, caught between watching your cunt work around Jean's dick and watching your face, such a sly smile crawling over your warmed cheeks. "Gonna watch me ride him stupid?"

Beneath you, Jean's hips twitch. His fingers dig into you with more urgency, a deep groan leaking from his chest. "Hold on, baby. Be a good boy for me." You coo, reaching down to cup his balls and press his cock flush against your wet lips. Shockwaves pulse through your body when you rub your clit against the silky smooth skin of his dickhead. Little moans spill out from your lips, urging both of the men on in their own motions; Jean bucks up into your hold, Connie grips his cock more fervently.

"You sound so fucking pretty like this," Jean utters from behind you, and Connie grunts, adding, "you look so pretty like this. Wanna see you all filled up."

Pleased, you lift your hips and align Jean's long dick with your entrance. It takes a moment for you to ease down all the way. A delightful burn shoots up your center, working to stretch around his meat and accommodate to his size, but you feel so full, so satisfied once he's buried inside you. His dick curves just the perfect way to hit the right spot deep inside your cunt.

"Oh, fuck," you mutter once you're pelvis to pelvis.

"Feels good?" Connie squeezes his tip, smearing more pre over himself. Eyes sliding shut, you nod eagerly and rock your hips, drinking in every gasp and moan that Jean offers so generously from beneath you. For a few moments you simply scoot and rock, massaging that spot and working up a tight coil in your belly. With the motions your body leans forward, providing Jean with the perfect view of your ass and Connie with the jiggle of your tits. Wet, lewd sounds slip into the space between you all, making the moment feel all too real.

"That's it, baby, take what you need," Jean smooths a hand up your curved spine. His heels dig into the mattress so he can press harder into your core.

Connie watches you start to bounce, a look of utter bliss washing over your face, and groans with every broken little moan you breathe out. He jerks into his fist in time with Jean's half hip thrusts. He can be patient, he can wait, he tells himself; no matter how he feels about Jean fucking you, the view and symphony you've selflessly provided him were more than enough to have every ounce of blood rush from his brain straight to his dick.

"Kiss, k-kiss me, Con," you mewl out, your breathing already growing heavy. The man jumps onto his knees and crawls forward, so eager to hold your jaw in one hand and give you exactly what you asked for. The kiss is sloppy, messy and wet, tongues sliding around each other without much direction, but it feels like exactly what you need, adding fuel to the flame in your core.

Connie slicks his hand up and down his shaft while he tongues you, eyes shut and abs squeezing tight. So many new experiences tonight, so little time to process them -- the thought of a threesome with Jean wasn't too out of left field, but the fact that you were smack in the middle of it was almost crazy enough to make him question if this was all a long, wet dream, one that would leave him sticky yet unsatisfied when he woke.

"You take me so fucking good," Jean grips your ass cheeks roughly, spreading them to take in the view of his cock sliding in and out of you with such ease. The desk lamp catches your arousal in a glimmer, leaking out and into the smearing of dark brunette hair around his pelvis. "Shit, so fucking good."

The praise makes you melt and stutter your bouncing, mewling into Connie's mouth and choosing to rock yourself back and forth to gain composure, but it's a fruitless effort. Pulling away from his mouth, an involuntary cry rips from your throat and that pressure inside mounts to an unbearable edge.

"F-Fuck, fuck fuck fuck--"

"Oh shit, are you cumming already?" Connie's eyes grow wide, looking down at you like a world wonder. He drops his hand from your face to grope at your tits, smoothing over the pert nipples and pinching them lightly to make you gasp.

Jean takes control. He holds onto you like you'd rocket off into space without him and hammers upward into your spasming cunt, jaw tensed as you milk him, your mouth dropped open in a silent cry. "God, fuck -- yeah, she is. C'mon baby, cum on my cock," he pleads more than commands, voice almost lost against the lewd slapping sounds coming from between you. The orgasm feels nearly shocking, crashing over you from head to toe and bathing your entire body in sparks and a deep, burning heat. Silken walls squeeze and shake, much like your hands, which grasp onto Connie's strong forearm to keep you from simply falling over in the peak of your pleasure.

The most you can offer is little squeaks as the wave dies down. You feel a little lightheaded and let out a shaky exhale, eyes fluttering open to meet those of your step-brother -- his gaze feels impossibly heavy as it flicks over your face. He licks his lips and offers a sly grin. "You're so fucking pretty." Connie says lowly. An almost ditzy smile flashes his way and you close the minimal space between your faces, catching his lips in another kiss.

Jean slows his movements to more purposeful, deep thrusts, and relaxes his grip, but rolls his head back into the pillow and utters a deep groan. "Where -- Where d'you want me? M'close," he breathes.

You break away from Connie, who whines a little, but watches you closely. Jelly-like legs work with you to unmount Jean and twist around so that you can take him into your mouth, propping your ass up into the air in front of Connie, almost like an offering. Jean watches you with half lidded eyes. His cock looks even bigger with your hand wrapped around it -- wetness and a little thick cream coat his bare, flushed skin, which you lick up in long strokes of the tongue. He pulses under your touch, eagerly lifting his hips to meet your lips as you kiss over his sensitive skin.

The brunette curses under his breath when you meet the heated eye-contact, smiling coyly before sliding his meat between your lips, suckling him and flicking your hot tongue over his frenulum.

Connie, behind you, eyes his friend's undoing, watches as Jean grips the pastel sheets beneath him with strong hands. Your ass dangles so teasingly in front of him, darkened shapes in the form of fingerprints ghost around your plump skin from where Jean held you just moments before.

He never thought himself to be possessive, but watching you impale yourself to the point of cumming over Jean's cock and licking up the delicious mess you made without so much as touching his own needy prick sparked something in Connie, a strange, primal sort of urge that drives his hips forward on their own. His hands grip at your hips and draw a surprised hum from your busy mouth, but the way you wiggle your ass in reply is enough to bring a grin back to his face. Your thighs are still slicked with your own cum and arousal, your hole flutters around nothing as he spreads your cheeks and peers at the mess you made.

Connie marvels at the way your supple skin feels cupped in his hands, so soft and smooth under his touch. He nudges his leaking tip against your center, rubbing up and down through your lips and gathering up wetness to spread over himself. "This okay, baby?" he asks smoothly, leaning over you to speak closer to your ear. With a mouth full, you nod and press back against him, gasping when the motion pushes just a little of his fat tip into you.

Jean locks eyes with Connie for a moment. The novelty of the situation hasn't worn off yet -- they share a few seconds of raised brows and near drunken grins before Connie presses into you with a firm and concise thrust. Vibrations from your rather deep and needy moan flutter around Jean's cock and immediately push him right up to the edge, rolling his eyes back as his stomach muscles grow taut. Cockhead pressed against the back of your throat, Jean gasps out the neediest sound he's made all night, "fuck, 'm cumming, 'm-- aah," his legs shake as he releases his load straight down your throat. You moan around him, sucking and flicking your tongue over the underside of his pulsing dick, resisting the urge to gag and gathering pinprick tears across your waterline.

Connie waits, already filling you to the brim, rubbing his hands over your hips soothingly. The room feels hotter and thicker than ever before -- Jean pants at the head of the bed, lids heavy as he gazes down and watches you lick up wayward spit strands from his throbbing dick. "Holy shit," the brunette breathes. "Holy shit. Thank you."

A little giggle spills out from your swollen, plump lips, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. "You don't need to tha-- ah, ah, fuck!"

Connie snaps his hips to and fro, urging you forward and back with the motions. He slides so easily in and out of your cunt. Straight pornographic sounds punctuate the stuffy room and he throws his head back with a long, purposeful groan, settling his thumbs into the little indents above your ass like perfect riding handles. His cockhead pushes and presses inside you. There's some muddled emotion behind these thrusts, so strong and sharp in contrast with the rather bubbly persona you knew Connie to hold.

Jean sits up onto his elbows, watching your tits sway and jump with his friends motions. "Bring her over here, Connie," he jerks his head at an angle and beckons you up the bed. Connie, after a few more thrusts, obliges, though his brow is furrowed in a rare look of concentration as you two shuffle up, still locked together in a slick hold.

You find yourself between them both yet again, your mouth uncoordinated in all your post-orgasm-slash-pre-orgasm haze. Jean doesn't seem to mind -- he lazily kisses over your cheeks, your jaw, licking trails up the column of your throat as you hover over him with shaky arms. Connie ruts into you at a pace that surprises you, drawing louder and louder moans with every slap his balls deliver to your throbbing pussy. "Y'love it, don't you?" He groans, "you love taking your step-brother's cock, don't you, pretty girl?"

With a hot mouth sucking little bruises over your neck, you utter a little cry, eyes pinching shut as your cunt flutters around Connie's dick.

"Yes, yes yes yes," you manage, "fuck me, give me more, fuck-- Connie--"

"You close already? Hold on for me, baby, wait for me."

At the command, you find yourself clenching your thighs together, whimpering when Jean absolutely pushes you in the other direction by tweaking and pinching your nipples between his fingers. The brunette grins against your flushed skin. He flicks the sensitive nubs playfully, biting down on your shoulder and sucking hard enough that there'd surely be a big blooming bruise the next morning. Desperate whines greet both mens ears as your cunt drools recklessly between your legs.

"Please, please Con, need'ta cum," you beg. "Please let me cum--"

Groaning, Connie watches the ripple of plump flesh that accompanies every thrust. His mouth drops open before he can think through what he says next: "Gonna let me cum inside?"

Your hole clenches around him on its own accord. "C-Cum inside?"

"Mhm," he rolls with it, too lost in his building orgasm to care anymore, "gonna let me fill you up baby?"

Of course, it's all talk straight from a thoughtless brain -- he'd finish wherever you wanted him to. But if he didn't at least try, he'd be kicking himself for the foreseeable future.

Jean eyes his friend over your shoulder, but kisses a trail up to the shell of your ear, where he breathes hot waves over you. "Good girls leave no mess," he coaxes, making you shiver.

The coil in your belly is strung impossibly tight. Right at the edge, ready to plummet for the second time that night, you whimper and grasp for Jean, digging your nails into his arms. You feel a release, a dam breaking deep in your core, sending a dizzying wave washing over you yet again.

"Cum in me," it almost comes out as a whisper, "please c-cum in me, Connie."

And it's music to Connie's ears, sending goosebumps over his sweat-slicked body. He needs no more than a few more pumps before your swollen, twitching walls milk the cum out of his cock, squeezing him so tight he utters a moan one might label as pathetic -- but he couldn't care less, tilting his head back and burying himself as deep as he could to shoot his load against your abused cervix. Jean peppers light kisses over your face, to the corner of your mouth, hung wide in another fit of pleasure.

The delicate smoothing of Connie's hands over your lower back, the soft hum from Jean beneath you, it all lulls you into a state of exhaustion you weren't sure you were capable of staying awake for.

After a moment, Connie pulls out, eyeing the cum mixture that threatens to drip out of your twitching hole with wonder. "Holy shit," he says quietly, voice nearly cracking.

Holy shit. There's no train of thought to be found for the rest of the night, even as all three of you re-dress and bid Jean goodnight an hour later -- he gives you a kiss, feather light and unsure as it lays at the corner of your mouth, but you don't mind in the slightest -- and, as you pad to up to your room once again, a creaking door startles you straight out of your still-tingly skin.

How in the fuck had you forgotten, or, perhaps your horny brain simply ignored, that your parents were sleeping just down the hall?

The tired, bleary face you know to belong to Connie's mom searches for you in the darkness. "Everything okay?" she asks, voice rocky, as if she'd just woken up. The hammering in your chest rings in your ears as you nod. "Was that Connie? And Jean?" she continues, looking you up and down for a moment.

Panic washes over you. Sure, you're a grown woman, you're certain both parental figures know you have a sex life -- but the pure taboo of the night doesn't escape you.

So, you sputter out the only excuse you can scrounge up in the moment. A half-truth, to save your conscience, and maybe even save Connie's grounded ass in the process.

"Jean came over, but not for Connie. He's been in his room." You say quietly, nervous fingers fiddling with the hem of your shorts -- too reminiscent of how your step-brother played with them earlier in the night.

A moment of silence passes between you two, before your step-mother hums to break it. "He's nice, that Jean boy. Sometimes I think Connie's a bit of a bad influence." And with that, she wishes you goodnight, and closes her door once again.

Retreating to the relative safety of your room, you shove yourself under the covers and heave a heavy sigh. There's no time to think over the potential consequences of your actions before there's a figure clicking the door shut behind them. Connie traverses the space confidently, as if it's his own room he's crossing, and doesn't even ask before crawling into bed next to you.

There's no fight in you, even if you had the energy for it. Jumbled, disorganized thoughts drift in and out of your mind as he snuggles into your side, his bare chest hot but comforting.

Connie, a bad influence?

He presses a lazy kiss into your hair.

Maybe, but you're no better.

#attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #connie x reader #jean x reader #connie springer #jean kirstein #dark content #stepcest #step-cest

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wormstacheangel · 3 years

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Drunken Confessions

I wrote this minutes before 15x18. I was nervous we weren’t going to get canon so I wrote some random fluff, a confession, to make us feel better just in case. Then I added some drunk human Cas for thee fun of it. So enjoy this big fluff ball. I feel dumb posting confession fics now. Anybody else?

“Can I love you?”

“What?” Dean chuckled as he half carried the drunk formal angel back to their motel room.

After they took care of a ghost that was haunting an apartment they went back to the motel only to celebrate with drinks across the street. The bar was old and sleazy but what else do they expect when it was across the street from a motel named C’mon-Inn. Something Dean was quick to catch up in, taking a picture and sending it to Sam to add to their Weird Motel Names list, while Cas still had a lot to learn. Last time he let Cas pick the place.

Dean had two beers as he enjoyed watching Cas mingling with the locals from his seat at the booth. He watched as he ordered his beer but somehow was competing to take a line of tequila shots. The locals cheered him on and Cas easily fell into the relaxing atmosphere as he finished the shots with a rowdy cheer. His laugh filled Dean's chest with warmth that he didn’t even need to finish the second beer. He already felt like he was drunk as he watched his best friend make friends and a lot of dumb decisions.

Now after consuming a lot of alcohol Cas was leaning into him as they crossed the parking lot to get some sleep. Cas's face, and his bad breath, was pressed against Dean’s own but he didn’t mind it. Not until Cas started talking.

Now he felt like he was going to be the one throwing up tonight.

“Can I love you?” Cas repeated with a pout now. He reached over and grabbed Dean’s face, almost slapping him between his hands, as he stumbled to stand in front of him while Dean grabbed him from around the waist to steady him. “Cause I love you so much. Sooooo much. Look at you,” Cas squished his face between his hands and sighed. “I don’t like it.”

Dean raised an eyebrow as he let Cas play with his face, stretching his cheeks as he pinches them. “You don’t like the way I look?”

Cas grinned as he silently shook with laughter. His hands pressed hard against his face before he gently caressed him, his thumbs making soft strokes across his cheeks. Then Cas fell forward and headbutted him.

“Dude!” Dean stumbled back as Cas fell, landing on his ass, while he held his stomach because he was laughing so hard. “Cas, what the hell?”

“You’re so stupid.” Cas sighed, still laughing, making Dean’s heart race while his head was now throbbing. “I knocked some sense into you. Get it?”

“Yeah, I could have gotten it without the headache.” Dean rubbed his forehead and reached to pick up Cas but it only ended with Cas pulling Dean down on top of him. Their faces were now so close that Dean was afraid to be headbutted again but Cas just smiled back at him. His ocean eyes soft and warm before he gently leaned in to press his forehead to Dean’s once again.

“Boop.” Cas whispered with a grin as he took a fistful of Dean’s shirt before he nuzzled their noses together. “You’re stupid.”

“You keep saying that.” Dean tells him, his voice shaky so he tried to clear his throat but his lungs felt like they were burning. Was he holding in his breath?

Cas pouted again before he groaned and shook his head. “I’m stupid.”

He pushed Dean off him then and started to get up. Dean watched with his own grin as he watched him struggle to catch his balance. He stood with his legs crossed and an arm down before he took a step towards the motel once again.

“You look like you have to go to the bathroom!” Dean called after him as he pushed himself up to go follow Cas.

“I do!” Cas called back to him, not looking back as he headed the wrong way to their room.

Dean reached him and grabbed his shoulders to maneuver him back to their room. Cas let himself be pushed but didn’t lean into him again. When Dean finally opened the door to their room Cas pushed himself inside and rushed to the direction of the bathroom.

“I’ll be here if you need me.” Dean tells him as he closes the front door while Cas closes the bathroom door. “Are you gonna throw up or pee?”

“Both.”

“Oh. Fun!”

Dean waited at the edge of the bed for Cas to finally come out. Checking up on him every few minutes only to get a groan as a response since he locked the door. It was a good twenty minutes later when Dean heard the toilet flush again and then the faucet run. He heard Cas gargle and Dean was thankful he at least brushed his teeth.

“Cas?” He got up to walk up to the door again but then the door opened wide as Cas leaned against the door frame, looking sick and annoyed.

“Why did you let me drink so much? What kind of friend are you?”

“The best kind.”

Dean walked over to help Cas back to the bed to sit him down. He handed Cas some aspirin and a big water bottle. He took it silently and finished the water with some of it dripping down the side of his mouth.

“Better?” Dean asked as Cas finished the water. Only getting a silent nod as a response. “Good. Come on. Let’s get some sleep before we drive home tomorrow.”

Dean kneeled down in front of Cas’s feet to start untying his boots to take them off.

“Are you-?” Cas started talking before he hiccupped and then he started to shake.

Dean looked up quickly to see Cas was crying. Tears streamed down his face while he tried to quickly wipe them off with the palm of his hands.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Dean’s hands hovered over him as he worriedly looked him over. “Cas, what’s wrong? What hurts?”

“Nothing.” Cas took a deep breath to calm his breathing. “Nothing I’m just...It’s stupid.”

“Is that your new favorite word or-?”

“Well I am!”

Dean rolled his eyes as he reached to gently cup Cas’s face to make him look at him. “You’re not stupid, Cas.”

Cas blinked at him a couple times, tears still falling. “Are you not mad at me?”

“Why would I-?”

“Cause I ruined our friendship.” He looked back at him as the heartbreaking expression gave Dean a pang of pain deep in his soul. “I lost you.”

“No,” Dean shook his head firmly before he smiled back at Cas to reassure him. “No, Cas. You can never lose me.”

“But Dean,”

Dean leaned in to bring Cas into a tight hug. His face hiding into Cas’s shoulder, not caring if he did smell a little bit too much like vomit. He shut his eyes tightly as he took a deep breath while Cas freezes in his arms.

“Me too. Okay? Me too.”

“Dean?”

“Come on, buddy, I can’t say it right now. Just put the pieces together and know that I-I…me too. I need you too.”

Cas took a sort of gasp, shaky and wet. “You do?”

“Yeah, stupid, I do.”

“Oh.”

Dean then felt Cas’s arms wrap around him awkwardly. They held each other for a minute or two until Cas became too heavy. Then Dean heard snoring.

“Great.” Dean says as he gently tries to push Cas off of him. “Was trying to open my damn soul up to you and you’re drunk. Figures.”

Dean tucked Cas into his bed that night and slept in the queen bed next to him. Figured it’ll be weird if Cas was too drunk not to remember any of this happening but in the early morning hours he felt his bed dip. Then before he could get his gun he felt someone snuggle up to his back.

Cold feet pressed up against his legs making his shiver but warm breath breathed down the back of his neck as arms wrapped around him. Pressing him close to their chest.

“Cas, are you spooning me?” Dean asked without opening his eyes fully. He only got a grunt as a response. “Are you still drunk?” “Stop asking stupid questions and go to sleep.” Cas tells him as he twines their fingers together and presses their hands against Dean’s chest. Both of them relaxing as they were enveloped by the warmth in the strange bed.

“Fine.”

“Fine.” Five heartbeats later Cas adds. “I need you.”

Dean smiles as he relaxes. “I need you too.”

Tag List: @galaxycastiel

#Destiel #Deancas #Supernatural #SPN #A More Profound OTP #My Writing #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #destiel fluff #destiel ficlet #fanfiction #WormstacheWrites

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ugh-such-a-simpbitch · 3 years

Text

Holding onto You

Tyler Seguin x Jamie Benn

WARNINGS: 18+, very much 18+, smut, masterbation, bdsm, barebacking, oral, pegging, restraints, slight humiliation, little bit of fluff, I think that’s it just good luck.

Requested: yes? Anon said they’d read my fic if it’s seggy and benn making out so I gave y’all horny bastards more than y’all asked for 😂❤️

Word Count: 6.7k

This fic takes a bit in place of Tyler’s time in the hospital and through his recovery process. What started as thoughtful visits turned into a kindling romance full of secret passion. I hope you guys enjoy!

I do wanna quickly note, if the paragraphs look weird that’s cuz my writing was long in each paragraph and tumblr was like “that paragraph was to big for us to handle” psh yeah but I’ll show you something else big you can’t handle. It’ll make my paragraphs look like nothin 🙄 anyways, ENJOY!

It was the 2020 off season, and as we all know Tyler had to undergo surgery and therapy for his hip and knee. It was dark, miserable, and for the most part a lonely time for the golden boy. It wasn’t until he visited that brightened up Tylers day. Though he felt shameful being seen in such a vulnerable state, it was good to see his closest friend come around to help encourage and cheer him up. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have anything better to do like oh I don’t know ANYTHING?” Tyler said playfully. “oh please I could be anywhere right now if I wanted to.” Said Jamie. It had been a while since the last time they have seen each other, so this visit was very special to Tyler. Seeing his teammate struck a chord within him, it made him feel like he was special. Not like how everyone else sees him, but special in the eyes of the people closest to him. Jamie had always been there for Tyler through thick and thin, but this time it was different. “I don’t know if you’re allowed to have this but I got you some candy to snack on while you’re here.” “Why thank you Jamie, I’ll be sure to eat these later! You really didn’t have to bring me anything, you know that right?” “Yeah but I figured why not, you could use a little pick me up even if that’s just some m&ms really. You’ve been here for so long the team, including me, are rooting for your comeback whenever that may be.” In that moment Tyler felt a rather confusing feeling. He wasn’t sure if it was hope or the lack of. He was desperate to recover and do what he loves best with the guys. Hearing what Jamie said really made him feel good for a moment till his thoughts colluded and made him feel like a holdback. “Ty, I know that look on your face, what’s on your mind?” “It’s nothin really, nothin important.” He says. “No, don’t do that! Don’t do that thing where you say it’s nothing but you know deep down something is bothering you. Don’t shut down on me, we never keep anything from each other!” Jamie said sternly. Hesitantly, Tyler readjusts himself from where he is laying, Jamie helping him get comfortable, after a deep breath, he starts to open up. “I don’t think I’ll actually fully recover. I don’t think, with everything I’m having to deal with right now I just don’t think that I’ll ever get to be 100% with how I used to be. I’ll only be a setback once I’m back on the ice, that is if I ever get to get back out there...” “Could you be more dense? Of course you’re gonna recover! You’re going to comeback better than ever! It doesn’t matter how long it takes, you will come back and everyone is going to be so excited even if you still have some kinks to work out. I know it seems hard now, but you got this okay segs? No matter what you’re coming back, I’ll make damn sure of it.” Tyler couldn’t help but to actually feel encouraged, he felt warm inside. A feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. He had been pent up in the hospital for so long there was so many emotions inside him he could never work out, but with Jamie, oh Jamie, how he makes everything feel so crystal clear. After a couple hours have passed, the nurse comes in and says it’s time for Tyler to eat, so the boys say their goodbyes and how Jamie will come by again if not tomorrow, next week. As he sat alone in the room he had adapted to finishing the grilled chicken and mashed potatoes he was given, Tyler looks over at the box of m&ms his friend has given him. He grabs the box and holds onto it with a smile on his face, not yet opening it, he embraces the box of hard shelled chocolate and falls into a peaceful sleep.

As Jamie had left his best friends hospital room, he makes his way down into the lobby, then to his car. He starts up the engine, but takes a moment to himself as he takes a deep breath in and shed a couple tears of sympathy. As he dries his slightly wetted eyes, Jamie pulls himself together, turns on the radio, and starts to drive back into his big empty home to await the next day. Jamie pulls up into the driveway, and parks his car taking his time to go inside. It wasn’t that long of a drive home, but this one felt a little more tingly than normal for Jamie. He is depicted as this manly guy that you should never mess with and he’d be damned if he allowed anyone to see him show his soft side in front of someone he isn’t fully connected with. The only person he has ever shown his soft side to was Tyler, and Tyler respected Jamie for that as he promised he wouldn’t share that information with anyone Jamie didn’t feel comfortable with. Even though he preaches it to Tyler, Jamie can shut down and build walls. He doesn’t really like to show emotion in front of anyone, he isn’t comfortable doing so. Again the only person that makes him feel like he can be truly him, is Tyler. As miserable as Tyler is being alone at the hospital, going through all these rehabilitation treatments, nobody has come to think of his good ol’ pal Jamie to see how he’s handling it all. The man sulks every night just counting the days, hoping his best friend returns to the NHL.

As he enters his home, Jamie decided to make himself a simple sandwich. As the silence runs in on him, his mind starts to wander, going to places he didn’t think even existed. It dawns on him as to what he was thinking about and for a split second actually liked what he was seeing, but he quickly shut that thought down. Jamie was a single man, but it didn’t mean he had needs. Sure he could take the easy route and just hire a hooker, but he wanted something more. To experience something more than just pity sex. He could obtain any woman he wanted, but deep down as nice as these girls were, he still didn’t feel complete. Jamie finishes his sandwich and decides to clean up and take a hot shower to blow off some excess steam. He turns on the faucet and allows the water to fall. He’s feeling more needy than usual, but he was too tired to call in for another girl to defile. He decided why not jerk off to memories of previous nights he found exhilarating, and maybe add a bit of fantasies in his mind. He undresses and steps into the shower, muscles loosening as his length starts to harden. As he starts to pump himself, his mind thinks about how he was on top of the black haired woman in fishnets named Stephanie, completely ecstatic as her screams filled the room and her cunt dripping in fluids soaking the bedsheets completely. Then he thought about the other night how he had the same girl folded over on all fours as he pounds her viciously from behind making “steph” shake crazily, as well as how he had a Blondie named Jessica pinned up against the wall and her eyes in tears begging for a slower pace, but then something changed. Jamie’s mind wanders into fantasy and his best friend enters his mind. He tried to shake it off, but after many failures he allows his powerful curiosity see where it takes him. As he slows the pace of his strokes he lets his conscious wander. “Fuck Jamie you’re going to make me cum~ I don’t think I can hold it in anymore! Fuckkk I can’t do that here! You’ll make me buy you a new one and that’s expensive as hell! OW JAMIE YOU DID THAT ON- mmmmmmm just like that baby.” Jamie hardens even more at these thoughts and his strokes move more faster and faster. He groans at his excitement as he starts to peak. Sinning in his thoughts he thinks of all the things he could do to his best friend, and that threw him overboard. Groaning and moaning loudly, Jamie cums all over in his shower, more than usual. His orgasm touching him in every cell in his body tingling up and down his body and on his cock. Tip to shaft, all he feels is a beautiful sensation. Coming back to reality, Jamie realized what he just did and pondered all night because of it.

A week later Jamie comes back to visit Tyler, this time bringing him a Victor E Green plushie “to keep him company.” The pair had kept in touch since the last time they saw each other, but Jamie had been a little dry and distant, although his one man show says otherwise. They chatted again for another couple hours, Jamie sharing some stories from previous practices. “HE DID NOT DO THAT!” Tyler yelled. “I’m serious! Ask him yourself! Pavs wanted to test the kid and Robo couldn’t stop to go back to the benches and tumbled over the barrier! You should’ve been there!” After a few moments of silence after Jamie had realized what he had said, he proceeds to speak first. “Do you get worked up in here at all? Like I know it’s a stupid question but what all do you do, other than lay In bed in here.” Tyler inhales, “ ummm well lately I’ve been working on walking on my own, and doing light exercises. Ummm well of course I watch whatever is on tv, I make sure I watch all of our games and heh some special wrestling on my phone working other parts of my body if you know what I mean!” “Just had to be cheeky didn’t you Seguin?” The boys laugh at each other’s remarks. “Dude go get you some food and come back, come dine with me tonight, we can watch the raptors play.” “I don’t know Ty it’s getting kind of late and-“ “ PLEAAAASSEEEE FOR MEEEEE YOUR BESTEST OF BEST FRIENDDDDDDD!!!” “Okay okay! Stop yelling or we’re going to get in trouble!” Jamie says while laughing. “There’s a McDonald’s down the street, I’ll pick some up and come back,” Tyler tries to interrupt, “don’t worry! I’ll smuggle you some chicken nuggets you child.” About 20 minutes later, Jamie comes back to see Tyler just getting his dinner for the night. Tyler puts the raptors on and Jamie sits back in the recliner that is in Tyler’s room. As the boys begin to eat, Jamie passes Tyler the chicken nuggets he promised to give him. “Yayyyy thank you!” He says with the biggest grin on his face. Tyler had been stuck with hospital food for a while now, Jamie bringing him the chicken gave him the most happiest feeling, since it brought a sense of normalcy back into his life. Though his time in the hospital was starting to feel like his new normal. After the game was over, Jamie stretches his legs and proceeds to start telling Tyler good bye. Saddened, Tyler gives his best friend a hug from his bed and messes with Jamie’s hair. They both laugh about it for a moment till they collected themselves. Jamie leans over and gives his friend a kiss on his head, gives him a pat, and proceeds to go home to end the night. As random as it was for Jamie to kiss Tyler on the head, it felt normal, and it didn’t bother them one bit. In fact, they both liked it. Tyler looked up at his leaving friend, gave him a smile, and proceeded to say good night. The night was over and the pair made sure to keep seeing each other after that fun night they had. Some nights Jamie would actually stay the night in Tyler’s room. He would sleep on the couch by the window and leave a little late in the morning after breakfast to go to practice. From what started to become a once a week visit turned into every other day visits, and it was the best time for both boys.

As the months past and Tyler’s release from the hospital, Jamie frequently will come over to make sure Tyler is alright and is comfortable with where he is at. Tyler’s sister were already there to help their brother, but Jamie’s help was really a reassurance on his part. One day, the girls were out and Jamie came over to take care of Tyler. Jamie insisted that they go out and take some time off to relax, but deep down it was just an excuse to be with Tyler alone for a couple hours. Tyler was at the point where he can walk on his own and skate lightly, but his sisters being there was just insurance to make sure he doesn’t accidentally hurt himself. Tyler wasn’t aware that Jamie was coming over so he thought why not take a load off and have some primal relief. Tyler had already got started and it wasn’t until Jamie walked in on him that had caught him off guard. “Well geez Jamie if you’re gonna watch you might as well put in the work and do this for me.” He said in a playful seductive manner. Jamie couldn’t help but to feel himself start to harden up beneath his shorts from Tyler’s remarks. He wasn’t sure if he was joking are if he actually meant it. “Oh please don’t act all shy now, you know you’ve thought about it and you know you want it, so come over here and finish me off.” Tyler wasn’t the type to make demands but deep down he wanted Jamie to touch him. He had secrets he never told anyone, but he was willing to take a risk with his long time best friend. “You’re not the one who gets to make the demands.” Jamie says a he lunges forward and kisses Tyler very passionately and without hesitation. The two men felt themselves both harden up as Jamie proceeds to caress Tyler’s cock. He starts slow and switches the pace of his strokes, catching Tyler off guard yet again. “Mister Tyler Seguin thinks he can make the demands? No sir I don’t think so. You’re lucky that you’re pretty and that I like you. Maybe I’ll go easy on you if you behave yourself.” Tyler didn’t think he can get harder than that, but he did and he was extremely turned on by the possessiveness and this dominating side of Jamie. He couldn’t help but to push for more. “Fuck Jamie I didn’t think you’d have anything like this in you. I can’t help but to wonder what else you have up your sleeve.” Tyler felt exhilarating, he craved so much that he didn’t even know where to begin with what he wanted to do, and Jamie was the same way. Tyler pulled Jamie in close and started to kiss him even more with more emotion in every kiss he made. He even started to kiss down onto Jamie’s neck and even took his shirt off. Tyler had already been shirtless before Jamie’s arrival, but deep down he wanted Jamie to see his skin exposed. Jamie starts to pump Tyler even faster which makes him even harder underneath his shorts. Tyler didn’t think it was fair that this was all going towards him, so immediately he pulled Jamie’s shirt off and shorts down and exposes his hardened length and proceeds to touch. “Fuck Jamie I didn’t think you liked me this much!” “Oh shut up Seguin you’re the reason why I’m here in the first place, now start working.” “Jamie Benn, all star captain who’s hooking up with his best friend. Sounds like a juicy scandal!” He teases. “Keep talking and I’ll shove my cock deep into your mouth. I’ll give you juicy.” Jamie couldn’t handle with what Tyler was doing to him. This is the first time either of them are doing anything like this, but they can’t help but to dive into their temptations. Jamie on top, the pair can’t keep their mouths off of each other and each has a hold on the other just going to town. “Fuck Jamie keep that pace! You’re going to make me cum!” Jamie then uses his free hand and puts it around Tyler’s throat. Maintaining eye contact he then says, “Not till I tell you to. Got it? Lemme hear you give your word.” Tyler was feeling too ecstatic to even get the words out. “I said let me hear you give me your word!” He says as he tightens his grip around Tyler’s throat slightly. With precum dripping from his tip, Tyler spits the words out. “I won’t cum-

until you tell me to!” “That’s what I like to hear. Good boy following instructions.” With them both fastening their strokes, kisses getting sloppier and sloppier, the two were almost at their peak. Their groans filled the room and they were so close. They were both leaking and each took a moment to taste the liquid that was laying on their hands. Tyler took it upon himself to make sure when he got his taste to make Jamie lose it. Sucking every spot that had Jamie on his hand, not missing a single spot, Jamie just about had it. Jamie proceeds to open up his mouth, about to speak- “Tyler! We’re home!” The boy’s instantly started scrambling putting back on their clothes, pretending the last 35 minutes they were experiencing never happened. “We’re in here!” Tyler shouted. The girls walk in and stand by the doorway. “Y’all are home soon” Jamie said. “Yeah, we went to go pick up some coffee and hit the spa, but by the time we got to the place they were really busy.” Said Cassidy. “There was a whole party in there, we decided we’ll just relax here at home, maybe go swimming.” Said Candace. “Well have fun I guess.” Tyler says while laughing. The girls walk away but when the guys thought they could take a breath, Cassidy runs back into the room and asks, “did something happen in here?” Tyler simply told her no and shoved her away. “Okay okay! Mister Defensive! I’ll leave y’all alone!” Even though they were so close, it was probably the most fulfilling experience both boys have ever felt in their lives. A life changing reality check, but it felt so right. The way Tyler had Jamie pushing for more, and Jamie giving into Tyler’s needs while doing what he does best, this was the best thing for the both of them. Even though they didn’t finish off the rest of the day, you knew that this was a new addiction that they never want to get sober for.

It had been a while since the two last hooked up in the golden boy’s bedroom, but it didn’t mean they didn’t talk about how they felt, and established some boundaries if they were to allow this fling to last on. Of course there were the occasional make out sessions that nearly took them back into the bedroom, but they wanted to go slow before jumping back into something that big. Tyler has been working more and has actually gotten to skate some more with the guys. He was almost 100%. Jamie and Tyler were hanging out a lot more lately, and a lot more touchy too. Cassidy had been noticing the differences with the two, so she took it upon herself to ask them if they wanted to join her for coffee after practice. The boys said sure, so after practice they meet Cassidy at a nearby Starbucks in downtown Dallas. They ordered their drinks and sat at a table in the back. The barista comes by and gives them their drinks, and her number to Tyler on a napkin. It had a little note saying “text me!” with a heart on it as well. Tyler looked up at the girl and gave her a nice smile as she walked away. Jamie looked over feeling the jealousy form into his veins. Tyler looked over and notices that within Jamie and gave him a look of reassurance, to then Jamie relaxes. Cassidy clears her throat and begins to speak. “I know there’s something going on between the two of you, and don’t even try to deny it, the day when Candace and I were going to go to the spa, yeah there was a different energy and I KNOW that there’s something goin on, so spill.” Jamie and Tyler look at Cassidy, then at each other, and back at Cassidy. “BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” The two started busting out laughing, and almost in tears with what Cassidy had said. “You think there’s something going on between me and Jamie?” “Yes! Look at y’all! Especially just now! Seriously I want to know the truth!” The boys started laughing even harder. “Oh please, Tyler tell me right now if there actually isn’t anything going on right now. If you really mean it you’ll ask out that barista who gave you her number right here right now.” Jamie and Tyler both tense up. Tyler looks over at Jamie and back at his sister feeling attacked and unsure what he’s going to do. Is he going to tell his sister about the secret relationship with his best friend, or is he going to get into one to prove a false point to keep the secrecy alive? “Cass, just cuz there isn’t anything going on between us doesn’t mean I actually want to ask that girl out.” “Come on ty, look at her, she’s blonde and absolutely GORGEOUS! How could you not want to ask her out?” “Well from the sound of it, it seems like you’re the one interested in her eh? Maybe I should give you her number! Since you’re the one acting like you’re the one wanting to share something.” “That’s not what I-“ “I- I- what? How does it feel when someone close to you starts making assumptions about something that big in your life? Yeah not fun is it?” “Ty, I’m sor-“ “Save it, I don’t wanna hear it.” Jamie steps in. “Tyler, chill, it’s fine. She’s just curious. I know you’re doing this so I’d be comfortable, but I trust your sister enough for her to know. So it’s alright, you can tell her.” “Tell me what? -gasp- SO THERE REALLY-“ “shhhhhhh keep it down, we don’t want the whole world to know!” “Sorry! Sorry!...so there really is something going on between you two?” Tyler begins to speak. “Yeah, your speculations were right, I just hope you haven’t spread anything about it to any of your friends?” “Oh no you’re good! They’re completely oblivious. But like have y’all two you knowww did the do?” “Why is that relevant?” “I DONT KNOW! I’m just curious! I’m just now finding out my only brother is hooking up with his best friend and kept me AND everyone else in the dark about it! So can you blame me for wanting answers?” “Okay! We’ll tell you everything! Just chill out! Or I’m ordering you a decaf young lady!” The trio sat at the table for a good long hour, catching the young girl up with all of the things Tyler and Jamie kept in the dark. When they got through, they went

their separate ways as Cassidy had to meet up with some of her friends and the undercover partners were on their way to a secret date that will end in Tyler staying the night.

Jamie and Tyler both went back home after their encounter with Cassidy to get refreshed and dressed for the date night they had planned. They of course told Cassidy that’s what they were going to do tonight so she insisted Tyler call her when he’s out of the shower so she can help him pick out clothes. He reassured her it wasn’t going to be something big, just a simple dinner, a couple beers, and some relax time back at Jamie’s house. Cassidy was still hellbent and persistent on having her brother call her, so he said fine, he would call her later. “Alright little miss fangirl, I’ll call you later. Now stop being weird and go hang out with your friends!” “Byeeeee I love youuuuu!” They all said their farewells and parted ways. Jamie and Tyler had carpooled, so Jamie dropped Tyler off at his place. Tyler goes inside his house and is greeted with 3 glorious fur babies. Tyler lays his bag down by the door and heads up stairs to shower. Jamie said he would come pick him up at 6:30, it was already 4:39. Tyler saw he had some time so he heads into the shower and freshens up. After he got out, he put on some clean boxers and went ahead and dialed up Cassidy since he promised to call her when he was out of the shower. It took a couple rings until she answered. “You actually called!” The young girl said happily. “Well yeah, you’d kill me in my sleep if I didn’t.” “I would not! That would be a waste of a kill! Now, show the closet!” Tyler flipped the camera and showed his sister the clothes in his closet. He already informed her that he was just going to wear some shorts, but she can pick an appropriate shirt for tonight. After a couple of minutes had passed the young girl decided on the all black tshirt and the black button up shirt with a tiny white pattern embroidered everywhere. “Alright, I gotta get ready. Thanks sis!” “Have fun dork!” Tyler hangs up the phone, and proceeds to dress himself accordingly. He went back into the bathroom to brush his teeth again, fix his hair, and spray some cologne. An hour had already passed by so Tyler started packing a backpack. He added the usual extra clothes and his personal items in the bag. There really wasn’t much he needed to take since he was staying only for the night. Tyler was all set and ready so he decided to feed the dogs. Candace was supposed to come over to watch the dogs, she had already texted Tyler saying she was 5 minutes away from his house. She was aware that he was staying the night with Jamie, but she didn’t know the whole itinerary. Cassidy was also going to drop by to help her sister, but it wouldn’t have been till later when she will show up. 6:30 rolls around and with a Jamie on time, he pulls up to the driveway. Candace still wasn’t there yet, but she wasn’t too far away from the last she spoke to her brother. Jamie walks into the house and is greeted with a kiss from Tyler. “Hey, Candace is almost here she’s going to watch the dogs for me tonight.” He said with a grin. “Alright. We can wait here a bit till she shows up, it shouldn’t be that long right?” To his demise, Candace pulls up and comes in the house. “I’m here! I hope I didn’t make y’all wait that long!” “It’s okay Candy, I just got here.” Jamie told the girl. Candy was Candace’s nickname, just like “Cass” is Cassidy’s. “Well, y’all go do whatever it is y’all are gonna do and have fun tonight! Don’t worry I got this, and Cass should be coming over later as well, so yeah we got this! Go have fun!” “Alright alright bye! I’ll see you tomorrow!” As Candace gave her brother and Jamie a hug, she shoved them out of the house and closed the door behind her without even looking back. She had a long day at work and she knows that the dogs are well behaved, so she was going to have herself a self care night along with her sister whenever she gets home as well. Candace was more responsible than Cassidy. She had more of a mom feature while her sister was more young and spirited, but the two complimented each other like yin and yang.

Jamie and Tyler drive off and are on their way to dinner. They drive to an In n Out burger up north on the belt line. They went in and ordered some burgers and some fries, got their drinks, payed, and went to station themselves in a booth in the back of the joint. They made some small talk throughout their time there and while they ate. After they were through, the boys cleaned up after themselves and left to go back home. The drive was a little lengthy, but it wasn’t like a little music that couldn’t help. Tyler controlled the music, as that’s the only thing he’ll actually get to control. He started to play Montero by lil nas x, and turned up the volume. Jamie started laughing as he isn’t quite fond of the song, but turned to Tyler and watched him dance in his seat, screaming the lyrics. “CALL ME WHEN YOU WANT, CALL ME WHEN YOU NEED, CALL ME IN THE MORNING, ILL BE ON THE WAY~” Jamie started laughing out loud on the verge of tears from Tyler’s actions. He loved seeing Tyler do outgoing things like that, it made him feel happy and grateful that he even has Tyler in his life, just this time he feels even happier. “You’re crazy you know that right.” ”Yeah but I’m your crazy and you adore it!” He wasn’t wrong, Jamie loved everything about Tyler, he really did adore him, even if they have only been together for a short amount of time. Jamie turns onto his street and proceeds to pull into his driveway. As everyone gets out, he took it upon himself to carry Tyler’s bag in for him. It wasn’t the first time Tyler has been to Jamie’s house, but this time it felt like it was the first time all over again. Jamie runs upstairs real quick to put Tyler bag in his room, then runs back down. Tyler was already sitting on the couch, starting up Netflix so the two can watch a movie. Jamie goes into the kitchen to give Tyler a beer while he quickly runs back to the blanket and towels closet for some blankets just in case of any of them get cold. Jamie lays the blankets on one of the recliner’s he has and sits on the opposite end of the couch from Tyler. “So what do you want to watch.” Tyler asks. “Mmm doesn’t matter you can pick the movie.” “ALRIGHT!” After a couple minutes of searching, Tyler stumbles over a movie he absolutely loves. “BACK TO THE FUTURE!” “Alright alright, we’ll watch it again!” As the movie starts, the guys had already downed one beer, but craved for more theater type foods rather than alcohol. Jamie popped up some popcorn and brought in some sodas, as Tyler helped him and grabbed a blanket from the recliner. “You’re cold?” “Just a bit yeah, it’s all good though.” “Come sit over here by me babe.” Tyler scuffled over moving his drink and popcorn over by Jamie and cuddles up into the arms of his lover and progressed to watch the movie. They were already midway through the film till Jamie spoke up. “Why is he trying to fuck his mom?” “Honestly I don’t know.” “She’s not even that hot.” “Jamie! Rude!” “What!? I’m just saying! If anyone is hot it’s you!” Jamie starts to run his fingers through Tyler’s curls. “Well I think you’re hotter.” Tyler leans towards Jamie and gives him a long kiss. As Tyler was going to pull away, Jamie immediately pulls back. Kissing him harder and passionately. Jamie was hardening up and fast. Tyler notices and climbs on top of Jamie. “Damn baby you must’ve liked that didn’t ya?” He says while he slowly starts to rock his hips onto Jamie, making him start to harden up. The energy shifted from cute and comfortable to lust and adrenaline filled real quick. “You’re really asking for it aren’t you hun?” “Maybe...what are you gonna do about it love?” In an instant, Jamie flipped Tyler onto his back, turning off the tv, and removing his shirt all in the process. “I’m gonna fuck you up if you keep talking to me like that baby. So what’s it going to be? Slow and steady? Or fast and crazy?” Tyler was ecstatic, he honestly wanted Tyler to go a little crazy on him, he wanted to be dominated, he wanted what they didn’t finish off the first time. Tyler kisses Jamie and bites his lower lip after pulling away.

“Crazy it is then. I sure hope you can handle it baby, there’s no going back from it.” Jamie takes off Tyler’s shirt and throws it on the ground while kissing him. He picks Tyler up and carries him into his bedroom and throws him onto the bed. Shutting the door behind him Jamie takes off his shorts as Tyler does the same. Jamie on top he starts kissing Tyler deeper and deeper, even slipping some tongue every once in a while. He pulls Tyler’s boxers off and starts to touch him. He starts to massage the tip and trickle his fingers up and down his partners shaft making him tense in pleasure from the touch. Jamie then pulls his boxers off as well, exposing himself to Tyler and pull him onto his knees on the floor. “Since you wanted to play big shot and run your mouth, start sucking.” Tyler looks up at Jamie with glee as he licks up his length all the way to the tip and back down. As Jamie groans, Tyler works his way nipping at the tip and slowly wraps his mouth around Jamie’s cock. Tyler was taking his sweet time until Jamie grabbed his head and shoved him down further forcing him to take in more of him, and a lot faster too. It got to the point where Jamie stood up and started thrusting himself into Tyler’s mouth making him gag and drool all over his face and on Jamie’s cock. Jamie pulls himself to admire Tyler looking like a hot mess on the floor. Catching his breath Tyler tries to take Jamie back in, but Jamie wouldn’t let him. Instead Jamie sets Tyler back on the bed and spreads his legs apart. Jamie starts to do the work by taking in as much of Tyler in his mouth as he can. Tyler started to moan a lot especially at the pace Jamie enforced. “Goddammit Jamie that feels so good! Just like that baby! Anymore and you’ll make me cum!” After a few moments Tyler getting close to his peak, Jamie stops and raises himself up to kiss Tyler. Re-enacting a previous encounter, Jamie puts both hands on Tyler and has him laying flat on his back while Jamie straddles on top. “What did I tell you last time?” “What do you mean babe?” “No I know you remember, What did I tell you last time” tightening the grip just a bit, Tyler answers. “No cumming until daddy tells me to.” “That’s right baby, no cumming until I tell you to, so that means if you’re about to cum, you tell me immediately okay? Or else there will be punishment to pay.” Removing his hands and replacing them on the bed, Jamie starts to kiss Tyler’s neck and proceeds to suck on his skin making sure he leaves marks on his lover. Jamie then gets up and pulls out a box full of some restraints that he’s dying to use on Tyler. He turns Tyler around on his knees and facing away from him. Jamie then wraps himself around Tyler kissing him from behind as he started to pump Tyler’s cock sending him into a flurry. Tyler was trying to find a place to grab a hold of, but Jamie had other plans. Jamie grabbed the handcuffs from the box and grabbed both of Tyler arms, and put them behind his back. Cuffing him, Jamie keeps his lips on Tyler’s neck. “Is that too tight for you baby?” “No babe, feels just right.” Jamie starts to continue what he was doing before, making Tyler spread himself further into the sheets loving what Jamie was doing to him. “Jamie! Baby you’re gonna make me cum! I’m about to cum!” Jamie then stops his motions and moves Tyler to face him and start sucking on his hardened length again. While Tyler was working his mouth, Jamie pulled out a bottle of lube, getting ready to use it. He pulls Tyler off of him, and turns him around spreading him out on all fours. Jamie then opens up the bottle of lube and starts to squirt the liquid out all over his length, and on Tyler. Jamie crawls behind Tyler and starts to whisper in his ear, “if it’s too much for you to handle just let me know baby. I want you to feel good okay.” Taking a moment, Jamie inserts himself into Tyler, pegging him from behind bareback. He takes his time as they both of them start to moan excessively. Jamie continues to push himself more forward, adding more lube every once in a while to make his insertion easier.

Finally, after achieving to insert himself fulling into Tyler, Jamie starts to thrust. Holding onto Tyler’s cuffed hands, Jamie starts to ease into the pace. “Goddamn Tyler, who knew you’d feel so good on my cock like this. Baby you’re my addiction. How’s it feel now? Is this what you wanted? For me to fuck you from behind like this?” Tyler tensing at the new refound pleasure he is met with, he attempts to talk. “Fucking hell Jamie! Goddammit! Ahhh, faster baby! Hell if I can’t walk right in the morning, people will just say it’s my knee, so just do it! Don’t hold back!” The permission Tyler just gave Jamie was like walking into a tigers cage dressed in meat. In an instant, Jamie pulls Tyler up with a hand at his throat and the other at his hips, Jamie takes the open invitation and starts to unleash his inner animal. The pace started moving faster and faster. The bed started to shake and move to the rhythm of the thrusts. “Fu-uu-uu-uck Ja-aa-aa-mi-ie-ee, im go-onna cu-uu-uum no-oo-ow!” Jamie then pulls out, removes the cuffs, repositions Tyler on his back, then recuffs Tyler but moving his hands above his head. Jamie then reinserts himself more easier this time, and goes straight back to work. Jamie was almost at his peak as well, every thrust, every bounce, every slap, he was inching closer and closer. “Goshh...fuckkk...Tyler, you can cum now!” As both boys reach their peaks, they are both dripping in each other’s white colored icing. Jamie pulls himself out and finishes cumming on top of Tyler. Taking a finger, Jamie swipes some of Tyler cum off of his stomach and proceeds to taste. “Sweet, as expected. You’re my sugar rush.” “Lemme get a taste!” Tyler kisses Jamie’s get a taste of himself. To his delight, he finds Jamie’s statement to be true, then decides to take a taste of Jamie. “Heavenly bliss baby.” Jamie does the same to Tyler as he had done to him. “Damn right, it’s very blissful. How do you feel babe?” “Like I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” “Haha I could say the same thing right now.” Jamie gets up and brings a wet rag to clean the both of them up. Afterwards, Jamie throws the rag on the floor somewhere and proceeds to take the hand cuffs off of Tyler. They both then got underneath the sheets and cuddled with each other for a little bit. Tyler looks up at Jamie and proceeds to speak. “I could stay with you forever you know?” “Yeah, I think I’d like that a lot.” “I love you.” “I love you to Tyler, so much.”

#tyler seguin #jamie benn #bennguin #fanfic #fanfiction #good luck #dallas stars #nhl #nhl hockey #hockey

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rock-em-sock-em-rock-n-roll · 4 years

Text

Blueberry Pancakes (The Dirt! Nikki/Tommy)

Chapter 4: The Smoothie Indecent

Tommy’s POV

I couldn’t believe what was happening. Nikki Sixx was taking me on a date. A real live date. He drove me to a diner, because I hadn’t eaten a full breakfast. At least that’s what I thought before I sat down and realized that this was the exact place we met. This was the diner I spotted him at after the show where he got punched in the nose. This was the diner where I saw him and thought “Fuck. He’s even hotter when he isn’t dripping blood like a faucet” . This was the same exact seat where I sat next to him for the first time. He hadn’t just taken me to a diner, he took me to my favourite place in the world.

This whole morning had been so sentimental. First, he makes me pancakes -like I ordered when we first met- then he takes me to the place we first met. Kind of a backwards order, but it was the sweetest thing. I couldn’t help but smile. I couldn’t help but grin like a fucking maniac.

“So, uh.... Nice place, right?” Nikki asked, looking nervous.

“Yeah, man! You remembered!” I felt like a schoolgirl in love, but I didn’t mind one bit.

“So did you,” he said, sounding a little surprised, as if I would ever forget. Then he started laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Do you-” He cut himself off by chuckling into the back of his hand. “You took my poster off your bedroom wall.”

I scoffed, and said jokingly, “Do you want me to put it back up?”

I loved how happy he looked.

“Nah, you don’t need to. You have the real me, now.”

Okay, was he trying to kill me? He must have been. I was sitting across from him, but I crawled under the table, getting a laugh, and slid in next to him. I gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. He was so fucking perfect.

He giggled (yes, giggled), and squeezed me into him, so we were in sort of a hug. But it could pass as a friendly hug, if anyone ‘important’ were to walk in and see us. He ruffled my hair and I leaned into it.

The waitress came up, and looked at us kinda oddly.

“Morning, boys. What can I get you?”

I half expected Nikki to order a rum and coke again, but instead he said, “Can I get some blueberry pancakes- double, and a large smoothie, two straws?”

If she wasn’t looking at us like we were nutjobs before, she definitely was now. She looked at me, as if she didn’t just hear Nikki ordering for the both of us. I just nodded at her, confirming the obvious.

As she walked away, Nikki and I laughed, but I was feeling a little nervous.

“What’s up, Tommy?” He asked, looking worried, as he played with a little strand of my hair.

“Nothing, it’s just… You saw the way that waitress was looking at us, and-”

He shook his head. “Nikki, she doesn’t know shit about us. She was just-”

“No, I know, but that’s my point. If this - us - gets out somehow, what’s gonna happen to Motley Crue?”

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to Motley Crue because some assholes don’t like the fact that we love each other. I’m not gonna let anything happen because some boring, traditionalist shits think that we should be getting tits instead of-”

I laughed, despite some of the shit going through my mind. “Yeah thanks, Nik. I get it.” I snuggled in next to him, and we sorta half-cuddled till the waitress came back around.

She set down our food, and smiled, looking much more settled and happy than the last time she saw us, even as she saw us cuddling, and about to drink a smoothie with two straws.

I smiled at her, while Tommy looked at her skeptically.

“Thanks,” I said, and grabbed a straw. I stuck it up to my mouth and looked at Nikki expectantly.

“What?”

“Do you wanna do that thing they doin the movies? Y’know, when two people drink a drink out of straws at the same time, while they look into each other’s eyes?”

He laughed, and started sipping from his straw at the same time I was sipping out of mine.

Are you hearing this? This is movie material. I love this. He gazed into my eyes, and I gazed into his beautiful green ones.

Then he crossed his eyes, and stuck his tongue out, which I was not expecting. One second we were getting lost in each other’s eyes, and the next…

I fucking sprayed smothie everywhere. I was laughing so hard it came out of my fucking nose. It wasn’t even that funny! Just surprising. I covered my face, and went bright red. It burned and it was just plain embarrassing.

Nikki was laughing, but he had a slightly worried look in his eyes.

Trying to stifle some of his laughter, he said, “Tommy, are you okay?” He scrambled to take napkins out of the holder.

I coughed. Shit did that hurt. “Yeah-” cough “I’m-” cough “I’m good, dude.” He handed me a bunch of napkins, and I grabbed them and crushed them up against my face, not really cleaning myself up. More using them to hide my face.

Even though it stung like a bitch, I laughed with him because his laugh was just so damn contagious.

“C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, holding out his hand. I grabbed it with one hand, holding the napkins to my face with the other. He took me to the bathroom, grabbed some paper towels and got them wet.

“Nikki, you don’t have to. I can do it-”

“But I want to,” he said. It came out as more of a question than anything. Like he wanted to make sure I was okay with it.

I laughed. “Okay, babe.”

He took my napkins and tossed them out, and gently cleaned my face with the damp ones. I held his hand to my face, looking him contently in the eyes. They were the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. They were so green and vivid, and deep, and wild, and just amazing. I could get lost in them so easily it was almost unnerving.

He stopped wiping my now mostly clean face, and said, “You’re the only person I know who’d turn snorting a smoothie all over himself into something romantic.”

“You love it,” I claimed, gripping his hand tighter.

“Shut up, you sap,” he said, getting a little red. It reminded me of last night when we were dancing, and his face looked like a fuckin strawberry. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

“I might be a sap,” I admitted, throwing away the paper towels. “but at least I’m good at it.”

“I’ll give you that one,” he said smiling, leaning in close to me.

I leaned in further and rubbed our noses together like they did in the movies. He hummed contently, and wrapped his arms around me, before saying, “C’mon. Let’s get back before our pancakes get cold.”

We got back to the booth and sat down. I leaned down to drink my smoothie, but he snuck in front of me and wrapped his lips around the straw, leaving me with a mouthful of his wild black hair.

I leaned back, getting his hair out of my mouth. “What the fuck, man? Now I gotta drink out of your straw to get the taste of your fuckin shampoo out of my mouth.” He just laughed, so I drank from his straw. From then on, we stayed with our own straws. And before you say anything, No . It’s not gross. We’re cute and you’re jealous.

I hated to change the subject, but I leaned back and asked, “So, what do you think we should do about Mick and Vince?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, are we gonna tell them about us? I mean, should we?” “We have a couple options here,” He began, scooching closer to me. I looked at him, interested, so he continued. “They think we were both drunk. They think it was a one nightstand. We could play off that. We could say that we didn’t remember anything, and they could have fun with that. Or we could keep us a secret-”

I blanked out for a second, imagining us secretly holding hands under tables, or exchanging quick goodluck kisses before a concert.

“Tommy? Earth to Tommy,” he said, waving a hand.

“Oh, what?” I said, snapping out of it.

“Come here, you fuckin goob.” He pulled me into him, so I held on, inhaling the scent of cigarettes and sweet fruit. He wrapped his arms around me and continued. “As I was saying, we could tell them. But we’d have to keep it private; Between the four of us.”

“Doc would find out,” I pointed out casually.

“Between the five of us then.” He paused. “I think we should keep this between us, me and you, for now, and wait until we’re ready to tell them, or until it slips out somehow.”

“Sounds good to me, babe,” I agreed, smiling.

“He wants to keep this going. He likes me. He really likes me. And not even because I’m hot, like when people usually say they want to stay with me. He wants me for me.” I thought gleefully, digging my face into his ribs. He giggled, and lightly pushed me away. “And,” I decided. “I’m the only one who can make him giggle.”

A/N- Kaudhliaygfliasydgf sorry this took so long!! I’ve been suuuuuper busy lately. I really hope you like this chapter, and if you did, you can tell me and give the gift of serotonin!! If I haven’t told you already you can also find this and other fic(s) at my ao3 account @mayolove. If you want me to publish on Wattpad too, then let me know and I can. And as always, let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters, or if you want to be tagged whenever I post any fic, we can also do that!! Love y’all!!

#blueberry pancakes fic

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shurisneakers · 5 years

Text

espresso [8]

Summary: In which your best friend’s brother begins to set you up on dates when you mention that you haven’t been in a relationship in years, but things don’t go as expected.

Warning: swearing, angst (????), pining lol

A/N: surprise bitches i’m back but will disappear soon again for months at a time this is my entry for the exuberant @viktordrago‘s writing challenge (it took me like 20 minutes to find you kumi i2g) thank you to the best beta @samingtonwilson love u and our cinema boi the fact that i had to fuckin gif this myself shows how desperate i am

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous part- Part 7 || Espresso Masterlist

Everyone has probably met that one person who is very different from the rest. Someone so profoundly boring, you had no idea you’d rather watch a tap faucet drip for eight hours straight than to ever be within a feet of them breathing.

That would be Vision.

Vision talked like he had a thesaurus up his ass, smelled like mothballs, and had ideals much too similar to a less-funny, almost less-human Dwight Schrute.

“Hey birthday boy,” you excitedly hushed into the phone at midnight.

“Hey there,” he replied softly so you could nearly feel him smile through the phone.

“How does one more lap around the sun feel?”

“More or less the same. Hold on.” He paused for a second. “Yup, I feel normal.”

“You’re a bore, Bucky Barnes. You’re supposed to be excited or something,” you could hear Nat and Clint giggling about something in the room adjacent to the kitchen where you’d snuck to call Bucky.

“It’s just another day, my dude.”

“It’s your birthday!” you protested, filling up a glass of water and bringing it to your lips.

“Meh.”

“What do you have planned?”

“First off, bold of you to assume I thought I’d live this long to actually plan something,” he snorted and you could hear papers shift under him.

“How edgy.”

“Secondly, I’m sleeping till noon and I’m seeing you today,” He cleared his throat. “You all, I mean. The group.”

“Sounds ideal.” You took a large gulp of water before leaning on the counter.

“What about you?”

“Currently; an all nighter with Nat and Clint to complete assignments.” your eyes flitted to the doorway which you realized had gone quiet. You narrowed your eyes. “Other than that, I got nothing else to do other than your birthday thing.”

“Oh yeah, funny story by the way,” he laughed nervously. “I forgot to remind you that your next date is today.”

“Bucky I still don’t get it,” you straightened up immediately. “Today’s your birthday, why would you set me up today?”

“You’re busy through next week and then you have midterms after that,” he defended himself weekly. “And besides, relax. He said it’s an afternoon thing. He’ll drop you off before it starts.”

“Who is it?” you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Jarvis; also known as Vision.”

You were silent for a moment as his name registered in your mind. “Why have you forsaken me this way?”

“Just give the guy a chance,” he chuckled, before yawning. “And remember, be at my place by five.”

He checked his rearview mirror again before turning his head back to the road.

You didn’t know if he was doing this on purpose, but he was driving at the slowest imaginable speed and you thought you’d reach the café faster if you just got out and walked.

He also happened to speak as slowly as he drove. “Can’t take my eyes off the road, you know. Road safety is a number one priority.”

“The world simply would not turn without capable drivers like you,” you murmured, sinking back into the seat that smelt vaguely of hospital-grade disinfectant.

The chances of you dying in an accident with him as a driver was much smaller than you dying of old age in his car.

He didn’t speak, a look of concentration as he made a turn at the curb, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

“I thought Vision and Wanda were a thing,” Nat remarked, peering over your shoulder and into your phone when Bucky texted you. Regardless of the content of said text, you smiled anyway when you saw it was from him leading her to completely invade your privacy.

It was just a stupid meme anyway- something that he thought would be an apt goodnight message.

“Wanda doesn’t even remember him.“

“Ouch,” Clint winced from beside you. “That’s gotta hurt the dude in the feelings.”

“Assuming he has more of an emotional quotient than a potted plant,” you muttered grabbing your pencil from under Clint’s hand.

The three of you had assignments due next week, which you decided to do together over many cups of coffee and energy drinks.

“I’m gonna fail this stupid fuckin’ thing. We had to do a meta-analysis of this stupid novel and all I’ve done is watch the fucking movie,” Nat groaned, burying her head in the sheets right by your leg. “I can’t believe I paid a school thousands of dollars, which I don’t have, just to write a meta-analysis, which I haven’t done.”

“Get up, c’mon. You can do this,” you said, nudging her with your foot. She swatted it away, choosing to lie there.

“Nat, I’m too broke to make it rain at the strip club you’ll work at if you drop out. Come on. Let’s get this grade.” Clint rolled his eyes, prodding at her with his pencil.

“You’re so mean, Clit. I’d never invite you to my place of strip anyway.” She raised her head to pout at him but rolled over nonetheless to sit up straight.

“Strip club. And I told you to stop calling me Clit.”

“Whatever.”

As you pulled into the coffee shop eight hours later, you reached over to open the car door only to have him damn near hiss at you.

You reeled back in surprise, watching him shake his head vehemently and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“It’s dangerous out there, especially with those zero-traction shoes. Over 17,000 people die annually because of slipping and falling. Twenty percent to thirty percent of people who slip and fall will suffer injuries like hip fractures, or head injuries.”

”Zero to a hundred real quick, my friend,” you stated, nevertheless not moving. “I know it may not seem like much to you, but I do know how to walk. Been getting enough practice all my life.”

“This is a matter of life and death, Y/N. What if you slip on the sidewalk and crack your skull open? I’d be the one who would have to account to the officers about the lack of awareness when it comes to winter treading and it wasn’t fun the last time it happened,” he said, all in one breath, his head moving side to side furiously.

You stared at him, unable to form any words. Absolutely nothing.

He got out of the car, one foot at a time before slowly standing up and assessing his surroundings. Finally, he took one step forward before pausing and doing it again until he finally reached the other side of the car to open your door.

Wonderful.

“Be careful, don’t jump out too fast,” he commented, holding his hand out to you.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“It was made very clear to ensure your safety at all times. James was very, very–“ he looked like he struggled to find the words “—fastidious about it.”

“Oh?”

“Say, Y/N, why exactly is Barnes setting you up with such… specimens?”

“He asked if I needed help in finding someone ‘dateable’. I agreed.”

“Your reasoning being?”

“Why not?”

“Excellent logic.”

“I was bored, Clint. He looked like he genuinely wanted to help.”

“Why didn’t he just set you up with himself?” Clint twirled his highlighter around his fingers. “He missed a great opportunity to pull the greatest plot twist of the century.”

“I really don’t think-“

“It’s probably not the best plot twist. He’s making it pretty obvious with the whole intense staring and heart eyes and writing on your cup thing.”

“Okay, first of all, there is no heart eyes or intense staring or- wait, what writing on my cup thing?” you caught yourself mid-sentence.

“Clint!” Nat hissed, glaring at him.

Clint looked between Nat and you for a few seconds before letting out the most apathetic and monotone, “Oops.”

“You just ruined it, you shit-eating fuck hammer. Bucky’s going to kill us both and then himself when he finds out.”

The place Vis took you was actually decent. It was the nicer of the two coffee shops in town, the other one being where Bucky worked. Still, something was missing and soon you felt yourself missing the chipped tables and fake plants of the other joint. You liked it much more than the pristine white walls and cold plush chairs here.

“Can we get a table for two? Preferably away from the noise-“

You glanced around to pinpoint what noise exactly he was talking about but came up blank.

There were two people in the shop.

“-And away from the sunlight?”

It was cloudy outside.

“Also, could you reduce the heat, please? It’s rather suffocating.”

It was winter.

“Do y’all have tables in the restroom?” you asked blankly.

He blinked at you, expressionless, “The restroom is a goldmine for germs and particles of fecal matter. Surely you know that, Y/N.”

“I just- it was a-“ you sighed. “Okay.”

The waitress however was a sweetheart, and you made a mental note to leave her a good tip before you left. She led you to a quiet corner, meeting all of Vis’ demands before leaving you alone with the menu.

“I think I’ll just go with an Americano.” Lord knows you needed it after last night.

Vision let out a tsk of disinterest, eyes scanning over the card tediously.

“Coffee can damage your liver, increase your risk of osteoporosis, and increased blood pressure. Especially the concentrated form in espresso shots.”

“Oh bother, well, I’ll just have to take that chance.“

“I prefer tea; rich in oxidizing properties. It’s also a wonderful material for composting,” he continued, ignoring your statement. He snapped the card shut, smiling knowingly at you.

The both of you gave your orders before returning back to the non-existent conversation at hand. Vision chose to keep his hands on the table in front of him. It felt like he was about to give you The Talk. He looked straight into your eyes, never faltering or looking away.

“So,” you dragged out the word, pressing your lips together when he didn’t respond or shift his stare. “What’s u-“

“Do you compost?” he asked suddenly, not breaking eye contact.

“Compost?”

“Yes.”

“I would, but I can’t-post.” You grinned at him, expecting a laugh or at least a groan.

“I compost,” he said stoically.

“That’s great, Vis. What else do you-“ you tried to veer the conversation in some other direction because you had a very good idea of where this was heading.

“I have my own compost. Have you tried making one of your own?” he asked simply. “It’s very simple.”

“I gotta say, buddy, I’m not wildly passionate about it right now.”

“Do you want me to tell you how to make one?”

You blinked at him. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you.”

You screamed internally, smiling at him nonetheless.

It was 4:40. You’d be out of there soon enough.

“Why would you tell her that?!”

“What the hell are you both talking about?” you demanded, shoving your things aside and sitting up straight.

“How would I know she didn’t know?” he ignored you, instead answering to Nat, who was beginning to look somewhat like an angry parrot.

“Jesus Christ, will someone just tell me what don’t I know before I start throwing hands?”

“The shit James writes on your to-go cup every time you show up at his workplace.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you nearly shouted to match their volume.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen them! They’re so glaringly obvious, he might as well be sticking neon signs declaring his love on them.”

“I have never seen any of what you’re talking about except the ‘Mario’ he writes.”

“That’s only one side. Haven’t you seen the other?”

“No! Why would I?”

“He writes really cute messages on them,” Nat said quietly. “Some of them are normal stuff, like “I hope you have a really beautiful day” the others are like small bits of poetry that I think he writes.”

You stayed quiet, trying to absorb this information as much as possible.

“It was pretty clear that he didn’t want any of us-“ she glared at Clint who finally looked a bit guilty –“to tell you.”

“I genuinely thought you knew. He’s been doing it for months now.”

“I didn’t,” you muttered, sinking back. “That explains the weird thing he does whenever I throw away one of the cups.

“You what?!” Nat screeched, leaping to her knees. “Why would you throw them away?!”

“Hey, I didn’t know!” you defended yourself, throwing your hands up in surrender. “I literally found out about them thirty seconds ago.”

“Can you imagine how shitty he feels?”

“Now’s a good time to stop.”

“Just watching the girl you love throw away things you’ve made an effort to make?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“And that would be intimidating if you were… well, intimidating.”

“So once you finish one layer, you move onto the next and so on and so forth.” Vision stirred his cup for what seemed like the twentieth time and at that point, it was much more interesting than the shit coming out of his mouth.

He had been speaking for composting for what felt like a good hour, not allowing you to get a word in sideways about any topic that would be infinitely more interesting than this.

“Y/N, did you hear what I said?”

“What?” you jerked your head when you heard your name. “Oh, yeah.”

“Did you like a part in particular?”

Fuck.

“Loved the part about the… layers.”

“Layers are really the key to this whole thing, if you don’t have enough-“

“You know what has layers?” you said quickly, sitting up straight. “Onions. Ogres are like onions. What is your favorite movie?” if you had to hear him speak about soil and manure one more time, you were going to drown yourself in your tears right then and there.

You could feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, but you didn’t bother answering it before putting it on silent, feeling like you at least owed him basic etiquette.

“I’m not done,” he said blankly, “Now, as I was saying, layers really bring out the-“

You bring your hand down on the table a little too harshly but quickly cover it up with a smile. His voice faltered slightly before pausing when you looked at him expectantly.

“I don’t have a favorite movie. I think they’re all too dependent on suspension of disbelief. There is no true realism. None of them truly cater to what I want.”

“You’re a film major.” “So I can make films that capture the true essence of-“ he inhaled deeply before gesturing with his hands “—everything.”

The same waitress from before asked you if you wanted a refill, to which you agreed, Vision doing the same. You fiddled around with your cup in silence for a while, not knowing how to continue.

“Do you want to hear my idea for a script?”

“Sure.”

“It starts with a twenty minute shot of the ocean. Just lets you get into the tone of the movie. Then the next shot is of a horse stable. Then the next is of a wilted meadow. Then an opening door. Then an unruly bed. Then-“

“That sounds great, but what’s it about, Vis?” you emphasized, hoping to speed things up.

“I’m getting there, but please remember this desire for narrative has been fed to you. Without narrative, we truly push away from the comfort films provide and embrace a reflection of the world around us,” he insisted. “The next shot is a branch. Then a towel. Then-“

You nearly banged your head on the table.

“A church. A running tap, just to introduce motion, you know, to get things moving-“

“You need to make a move. Tell him you know about the cups.”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

It was 4am and all of you had collective taken a break from whatever it is that you were doing around thirty minutes ago and were now just laying there, waiting for the caffeine rush to wear off.

“Why not?”

“Why do you care so much, Clint?” you asked, slightly irritated.

He moved his hands to rest on his abdomen. “I don’t. It’s just agonizing to watch.”

“Don’t watch then.”

“Fine I’ll date him then. I’ll get him to write me love letters too.”

“Go for it,” you snorted, shaking your head.

“Maybe I will. I’ll ask him out today, just watch me.”

“Don’t let him break your heart, babe,” Nat encouraged him.

“He’d have to reject me to do that.”

“Why on earth would he ever do that?” she poked at his cheek, watching him grumble and shove her away.

“I think he and Dot are a thing,” you said suddenly, facing the ceiling.

“I don’t think so. He doesn’t look too invested.”

“They hang out a lot now, did you know?” you continued, ignoring Clint.

“You should ask him. Set the record straight.”

“I think I’ll keep all my feelings to myself and then die, thanks.”

“Just tell him, man. It’ll make your life much simpler,” he rolled onto his stomach to look at you. “Sweetheart, I love you, but all this pining isn’t helping either of you. Tell him, and if he likes you back, great. If he doesn’t, well, at least you’ll know, right?”

“That’s easy to say, but try doing it yourself.”

“Oh I did. The first one rejected me straight out, and it fucking sucked balls, but I could move on. Sometimes it’s better to take that chance.”

You were silent. You couldn’t believe you were actually considering what he’d said.

“Alright fine, here’s the deal. If I can gather the guts to ask out Bucky, you’ll have to do it too.” Clint held out his hand for a handshake and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Fuck outta here. You’d do it without any regrets.”

“True, but you look like you need a push and I’m offering you one.”

“I appreciate it Clint, but it’s never going to happen. I’d rather choke.”

“I’m not gonna force you, but just think about it. It’s all about a leap of faith.”

The three of you remained in silence before Nat broke it, giggling to herself.

“Are you going to ask him out though?”

“Hell, maybe I will. Five o’clock, right?” Clint looked at his watch.

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna do it, watch me.”

Five.

Fuck.

You suddenly broke out of your train of thought and scrambled for your phone, interrupting Vision’s marvelous idea for an Oscar winning script.

Your heart stopped beating altogether.

It was nearly 6:30 and there were nearly twenty unread messages and around ten missed calls illuminating your notification bar.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cursed steadily before standing up, your chair scraping against the floor behind you.

“Is something wrong?” Vision asked delicately, still clearly immersed in his thoughts.

“We need to leave now.” You pulled out enough cash to pay for your share, tugging your jacket back on hurriedly. “Now.”

“Why?”

“I’m late. I’m really, really late and we need to go now.” You had no idea that much time had gone by, scolding yourself for not keeping track of how long you were there.

“Alright, but are you-“

“Now, Vision.” You glared daggers at him until he relented, paying his amount and walking to the entrance at his own pace while you were nearly running.

From Becca:

Where are you???

From Becca:

We’re waiting for you to cut his cake

From Steve:

Hey, are you on your way?

From Becca:

McFucking Dot is here why tf is she here who invited her and why is she so touchy with bucky

From Nat:

I swear to god if you’re off making out w/ that boy instead of being here

From Wanda:

hey, we just cut the cake without you, hope you don’t mind. Where are you??

From Becca:

Someone “”””””accidentally””””” spilled their drink on dotzilla she’s all wet now

From Becca:

I can say with 80% accuracy that it wasn’t me

From Nat:

Becca just spilt her drink on Dot what the hell

From Clint:

Dot just left the room to go change because this dumbass turd just poured beer over her. now’s my chance

From Becca:

Yo where tf are you

From Nat:

We’re just sitting around, watching a movie. Are you showing up?? Why aren’t you answering our calls? Is everything okay?

From Becca:

Clint just asked out Bucky wtf sdjhgdkjfhgkdjfhg

From Clint:

I asked him out. he rejected me. I think I’m gonna keep trying

From Nat:

Clit’s bribing Bucky into saying yes

From Clint:

He said no im leaving this bullshit party

From Becca:

I just told Bucky you’ll be running late are you even showing up where are you

From Bucky:

Date going well? Hope you’re safe. Saving you a piece of cake 🍰

“Can you drive a little faster, please?” you urged him, furiously responding to everyone’s texts as quickly as you could.

“I’m already going as fast as I can,” he replied, driving at almost half the speed limit.

“Sweet Jesus,” you breathed out, running your hands through your hair. “Alright Vis, detour. Drop me off at this address.”

You didn’t wait to catch your breath as you ran up three flights of stairs to his dorm room, hands repeatedly slapping against the door.

A minute later it swung open, revealing a slightly panicked Bucky.

“What the-“

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so fucking sorry. I lost track of time and I didn’t even realize, it was entirely-“

“Woah, hey- hey it’s okay. It’s okay. ” He opened the door wider, a mix of confusion and concern on his face. “Take a second to catch your breath.”

As you did, you noticed he was wearing a black t-shirt that had no business looking that good, grey sweatpants, and his hair was pulled into a half bun, having grown longer due to months of not trimming it. He looked beautiful.

You took a moment off of staring at his stupidly attractive face, and beyond his shoulder into his dorm. You could see the empty beer cans littering his living room, the clear signs of a party.

“Everyone left?” you asked quietly.

“Yeah, just a few minutes ago.”

“Shit, Bucky-“ You sighed, frustration evident in your voice, feeling your heart sink. “I never meant to miss this, I promise.”

“I know you didn’t, don’t worry. I see you almost everyday, Y/N, it’s definitely okay to miss one evening.” He laughed lightly, shifting his weight to his other shoulder.

“It’s your birthday.”

“Like I said, it’s just another day.” He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s nothing too big.”

Stop staring at his fucking chest.

“I bought you something,” you blurted out, tightening your grip on your bag. “A birthday present, I mean. I bought you a gift. For your birthday.”

Stop mumbling, you big oaf.

“Y/N,” he complained, “We talked about this. You didn’t have to-“

“It’s a journal,” you interrupted him, scrambling through the contents of your backpack to find it. “Each page has a question. 365 days, 365 questions. I mean, theoretically, it doesn’t work for leap years but, you know, this coming year isn’t one and I-”

You finally grabbed hold of the brown, leather bound book, pulling it out with ease and holding it out to him. He looked back at you without a word.

“And I know how much you like writing, I just thought it’d be nice to look back on how much you change or how much your thoughts change over the year.” You pushed it forward gently, urging him to take it. He held onto it silently, running his fingers along the pages before flipping open to the first page.

You keep records of their troubles. You’ll learn from them. If you want to Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from. It’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn’t education, it’s history.

You watched him read it, his eyes widening slightly once he realized where the excerpt was from.

“That’s- that’s from-”

“The Catcher in the Rye. Yeah.” You shifted uncomfortably when he fell silent again, staring at you without a word.

Great.

“I know it’s stupid and nowhere near anything you’ve gotten me and I can get you something else-”

“I love it.” The look in his eyes made you want to melt. “So fucking much.”

“Really?” You couldn’t hide the surprise from your voice.

“It’s probably one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever given me.”

“There are some really stupid questions in there, like about memes and stuff because I thought you’d like it, but the rest are relatively normal.”

“It’s absolutely perfect.” He blew a few strands out of his face, letting his hands fall to his side. He opened his mouth to say something else but instead he shut it again.

It was probably the silence that ensues that made your fight or flight instincts take over because the next thing you realized is that you had both your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug, earning a small ‘woah’ from him.

It took him about a second but he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in closer, if that was even possible, dropping his forehead into crook of your shoulder. He smelt of fresh laundry and cinnamon and you couldn’t help the breath that escaped your lips. You could feel his breath tingling your neck and the warmth he exuded seeping in through your sweater. It reminded you of home.

You unwillingly pulled back, stuffing your hands back into your pockets awkwardly. “Happy birthday, James.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, biting his lip. “I, uh, saved you a piece of cake.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Finally he shook himself out of whatever he was thinking, moving and holding open the door invitingly. “Do you- uh- do you want some?”

Just tell him you like him, for the love of God.

“James I-“

“Bucky? Do you know where the tissues- oh hey Y/N!” There was no mistaking who walked out from Bucky’s bathroom. Bucky whipped his head around, confused, before who it was registered in his mind and he turned to look at you again.

“Hey Dot.”

“We missed you today,” she chirped, approaching the doorway, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Yeah, me too.” Something was amiss about her before you finally caught on.

She was wearing his shirt.

Oh.

“Um, I better get going.” You swallowed. It felt like you were missing something crucial. Why would she be wearing his shirt at his place?

“Wait, I thought-“ he furrowed his eyebrows, straightening up.

“It’s getting pretty late, I gotta go.” You half-smiled, pointing behind you to the setting sun. “Maybe some other time.”

“At least let me drop you back. Let me just grab my keys-“ he turned around, ready to walk back into his apartment.

“It’s okay,” you interrupted him, taking a step back. “I could use the fresh air.”

“It’ll be dark out soon.”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him, continuing to walk backward before waving at him. “I’ll catch you later, Buck. Bye Dot.”

“Y/N-“ he tried again but you just waved again before spinning on your heel and walking off, waiting till you were out of eyesight before fumbling for your phone and calling Nat to come pick you up from his dorm because sure, you may be feeling like shit, but that didn’t mean you were going to walk home in the middle of winter, alone.

Leap of faith, my ass, you thought.

Leap off a fucking cliff was more like it.

Part 9

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #college!bucky #college!au #college!bucky x reader #kumis5kchallenge

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zmediaoutlet · 5 years

Text

It’s a deeply generic motel room: two beds, bad wallpaper, carpet last cleaned sometime in 1986 and a dripping sink faucet, and Pink Panties just cannot believe his luck.

"Are you fuckin’ kidding me," he says, and then clenches his jaw and grimaces quite prettily. Pink Panties folds his arms over his chest and sighs. "This is the worst thing that’s ever happened."

"Come on, it’s not that bad," says Dong. He’s lounging against the wall, quite unconcernedly naked. His hair seems bouncier than normal. Pink Panties hates himself for noticing it. "It’s not like we’ve never done it before."

"That is not the point," Pink Panties says, and smacks the bad wallpaper as he shrinks another inch. Is his voice getting higher, too? "God, am I gonna actually be a chick by the time this thing is over? What the hell?"

Dong sighs and comes over to where Pink Panties is still hovering at the door to the bathroom, putting his very large hand (larger than before? come on, for fuck’s sake) on Pink Panties’ shoulder. "Dude," Dong says, and then coughs, his face going red. He shakes his head, touches his throat. "Uh—I mean, uh, sweetheart—" and he ignores the punch Pink Panties aims for his chest, that somehow turns into a weak slap halfway there, "—look, we've just got to get through it, and we'll be back to normal, and then we can—I don't know, take you and get a cheeseburger or something."

"I want onion rings," Pink Panties says, and he doesn't even care that it sounds all soft and mournful and pathetic, he's just tired and he wants to be done already.

"With that cheese sauce and everything," Dong says, a little too patronizing if Pink Panties gets a vote, but he's not sure he does. This room is a nightmare. That must be the explanation. Otherwise Pink Panties' (quite healthily-sized, thank you) dick wouldn't fit into the little lace-and-satin number hugging his hips and not doing anything at all to cover his ass, and Dong's dong wouldn't be about the size of Pink Panties' forearm, and also there wouldn't now be about a foot of height between them, and Dong's muscles wouldn't be glistening in the lamplight like he'd just gotten out of a Sports Illustrated swimsuit shoot, what the hell.

Dong's not even hard. Dong isn't? Pink Panties shakes his head, trying to make it work past the fog of requirement hanging in the air. Dong's hand hasn't left his shoulder and it squeezes, soft, and Pink Panties drags his eyes up to find Dong watching him, a little cautious but a lot more—hungry, like he wants something he's been starving for, only—wait, wait. "We screwed around yesterday, you can't already be—" Pink Panties says, but he's interrupted because Dong swoops down and picks him clean off the ground like he's some chick who weighs a buck and, fuck, Pink Panties is getting close to being that, and he'd complain a whole hell of a lot more about that but oh, Dong's mouth isn't exactly a punishment. He grumbles half-heartedly against Dong's lips and submits to being licked quite thoroughly, because this at least isn't any kind of requirement from the—what, curse? He's distracted from that, though, because under his ass Dong's dong—god, his member, why is that the second thing to pop into Pink Panties' head, jesus—is getting very hard indeed, and it glances firm against his thigh and Dong's hand slides under the frilly edge of the panties. Pink Panties yanks his head back from the kiss and pants, breathily, "This had better be the kind of fantasy where there's all kinds of lube," and Dong grips him and says, "Oh god, I hope so," and Pink Panties squeezes his eyes shut and actually prays with everything he has because awful fucking dream or no there's some shit no ass should have to put up with, and then Dong tosses him—tosses him!—onto the bed and says "Oh god, man—du—sweetheart, I'm sorry, I can't stop," and Pink Panties takes a deep breath and says, while Dong's crawling up his body (because of course he is), "That's okay, that one was hot," and Dong looms over him with his baseball-bat-dick pressing into Pink Panties's soft tummy and smiles and says, "I kinda—thought so too," and even if the smile is that stupid smug wolfish thing Dong can't stop wearing at least the voice is Donggy. Pink Panties relaxes, and wraps his arms around Dong's neck, and says, "Okay, Dong, let's do this," and then there's a very, very long moment of quiet with Dong's mouth occupied at Pink Panties' throat before he picks his head back up and says, in a voice of horrible consequences to come, "…Dong?"

Afterward, back to his own size with a scrap of pink silk clinging to his calf, sweaty and dehydrated and real fuckin' sore indeed, Dean's feeling pretty hard done by, especially since Sam won't shut up about it.

"Dong! Dude, is that what I'm reduced to here?"

"I'm the one who's apparently a bad romance girl stereotype, Captain Huge Dick, I don't think you're the one who needs to get offended," Dean says. Fuck, his throat's sore. All that girly wailing.

Sam keeps pacing. His now-normal-sized (…mostly normal-sized) dick is still shiny with all the lube that's now covering Dean from back to thighs. God help him, Dean's into it. "At least you got, you know, characterization. I'm a piece of meat, apparently. And a caveman!"

"You can say that again," Dean says. Sam glares at him. Dean could not give less of a shit. His lower back might never be the same. "Hey, at least you're not, like, six foot twenty anymore. And I'm back to six one."

Sam snorts. "In your dreams," he mutters, and ignores the empty bottle of lube Dean tosses his way. He props his hands on his hips, glaring at the flash drive they finally found and shot. Dean blames Sam for that, entirely. Hour two was not Dean's fault, no matter what happened with Dean's mouth getting too pink and perfect or whatever the hell Sam kept babbling about. Sam nudges the thing with his foot. "You think the girl's curse is dead now?"

"Only one way to find out," Dean says, and when Sam looks his way he licks his lips, slow and deliberate.

Sam looks faintly horrified. "You look like a ho," he says, and then looks more horrified that he said it.

"Thank god," Dean says, and drops his head back to the pillow. Fucking fanfiction, and fucking weird teenage ghosts with dying wishes, and fuck flash drives, too. If they don't fuck for a month, it'll be too soon.

He peers down his nose and catches another glimpse of Sam's dick, at rest against his thigh. He's still glaring down at the carpet, so offended he's unselfconscious about his nudity. Dean licks his parched lips, not for show this time. Well. Maybe not a month. If Sam could get him a damn glass of water, maybe not even a day.

#wincest #this is not my fault #...this is not entirely my fault #my writing

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mynameisdreartblog · 6 years

Text

Fish 1

Aries: Clownfish. God, wouldn’t it be so cool if, at a party, the piñata would just burst into a bunch of blood and guts instead of candy? Wow, how dark and grim of a concept is that? I bet you’ve never seen someone with a fucked-up imagination as much as me. I was born in the flesh mounds and the darkness embraced me. I’ll get my new idea pitched to Fox and they’ll air it right next to The Simpsons. I’m gonna be so damn famous with my original dark comedy with intense shock value. I don’t care about anyone’s feelings, aw yeah. This is how we make it in this brutal world where everyone prioritizes their feelings over facts: by showcasing the ugly truth of our current society on the big screen. You might say that I’m an ignoramus that lacks any semblance of self-awareness, but I say that you’re underestimating my ability to make the momentous connections that’ll blow the current consensus out of the water. One thing we all assumed to be true was that you’re staunchly against your argumentative opponent, but the truth is that you’re secretly just like them! I have no claims to back this up, but the sheer dramatism of such a statement makes it bound to have some form of truth within it. It seems as if y’all can’t handle my sheer intellectualism. I don’t blame you, ‘cause it takes a lot of mental effort to project this much.

Gemini: Cuttlefish. Have you ever thought about how much an asshole Batman is? I mean, the dude’s a bourgeois playboy who only accomplishes maintaining the status quo in his form of “justice”. Like, what a dick. Not only that, I also question the dude’s mental state. Are you gonna tell me that the person who, after witnessing his parents’ murder, decides that the best course of action is to dress up like a bat and kill people is a rational person? I think not. To be real here, I’m not even a big fan of Batman, I just think that it’s pretty obvious that this moral complexity to Batman’s actions should be discussed more, if it’s not already a hot topic in the fanbase. I grew up and thought that Bruce Wayne was a hero, and that I should emulate his way of thinking, until somebody called me out and then I realized that Batman is actually the perfect example of how helpful corporate philanthropy actually is: he thinks he’s aiding a population by using all of his fancy toys, but he only makes things worse as he doesn’t use his power to solve overarching issues affecting Gotham. Sure, he may defeat the Joker one time, but locking him up in an asylum only stops him temporarily; he doesn’t try to solve what caused the Joker to come into existence in the first place. Honestly, you have to be a little crazy as well if you work or contribute to asylum.

Scorpio: Anglerfish. Recently, there’s been a phenomenon of battle royale games taking over the market and getting into the facet of every teenager’s life. It’s more like a disease than a craze at this point. Pretty much every dork at your school comes, with snot dripping down their face, asking you whether or not you play Fortnite or whatever it’s called. I think there’s some activism that needs to be taken against this wave of crap flooding the ever-so-precious video game market. Since I have literally nothing else to do with my life but become over-concerned with the state of video games, I guess I should take this up as a noble cause. It is now decided, by the order of gaming, that I must defend video games against themselves. But wait a minute, there’s a dark and authoritative presence that looms over us. It’s not too much of a hunch to believe that it seeks to halt us in our plans to stop PUBG or whatever. Oh no, how dare they put gaming culture at risk? Don’t they know how important preserving the integrity of gaming culture is to us? Do you feel something grab you from behind? Oh God, it’s your parents, and they’re very concerned about our sincere passion for criticizing battle royale games. They say it’s been destroying our lives, but I disagree, for it’s this genre of games that’re destroying the lives of players! And… I can’t LARP like this anymore; screw this.

Capricorn: Seahorse. A furred creature shows glimpses of itself when you make haste for your car in the exposed garage. It occasionally pops out the corner of your eye and you confuse it for a stray cat. After first sighting it, you start developing more hallucinations (well, more than usual): ones of greater and deranged variety. It creeps up ever so subtly in the unchecked rooms you glance past while grabbing a bite to eat. There’s nothing there, but it doesn’t feel that way. The sink was left running last night. It goes on like this for nine days. [...] You decided, one day, that you’re sick of these illusion and the consistent sound of running faucets; guess it’s time to actively look for trouble now. You take up your rifle and you search for it in your yard: where you think you last saw it. [...] To your dismay, it never showed its face that night. This morning however, a woman dressed in olden garbs ran down your driveway, with a look of absolute fear on her face. She was squealing at you to move, but move from what exactly? We could be interpreting this situation wrongly, because, for all we know, she may’ve been referencing what’s been boggling your mind for the last nine. It’s irresponsible of you to act like this current situation had nothing to do with you. You’re the one who went into your yard, with a loaded gun, to try and hunt down something that may or may not exist. She’s probably terrified of you more than anything. [...] It lingers.

#zodiaccupuncture #Aries #Gemini #Scorpio #Capricorn #zodiac #horoscope

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p-artsypants · 6 years

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Requiem for Pitioss (1)

FF.net | AO3

“O King. The god’s have heard your cries. Know that we weep with you. The Oracle’s calling has not yet been fulfilled. But…Lunafreya as you know her cannot return the way she was.” Noctis looked up, hopeful. “But she can return!” Canon divergence from Chapter 9. Happy ending. Some spoilers.

The last thing I need is inspiration for a new fanfic. BUT I’m motivated, so hheeerrrreeee we go.

There are several dungeons mentioned in this fic, and I’m taking some liberties with them. I read the fan theory about Pitioss, and I like it, but I’m also going to embellish some ideas of my own.

Also, I watched Episode Ignis, and HOLY— I had to rewrite sections of the fic. Sorry for any spoilers.

I don’t usually post until I have a few chapters written, but I want to see how many people are interested in this. So if you like what you read, please reblog!

–

The knife that sunk into Luna’s side caused Noctis physical pain. His eyes were wide in horror as Ardyn withdrew the blade. He fought to stand as he watched Luna bless the man, only to be slapped across the face.

“Oh Prince! You’re bride awaits!” The devil called.

Noctis summoned his Engine Blade as Ardyn began to leave, flung his blade out, and caught the man between the shoulder blades with a warp strike.

Ardyn doubled over as Noctis scrambled over to Luna and took her in his arms, supporting her on her feet. “Luna…”

“Noctis…” She held on weakly. “Don’t worry about me. You have to finish the covenant with the Hydraean.”

He shook his head. “I can’t leave you. I understand I have to do this, but it means nothing…if I can’t be with you.”

“Please Noctis…” She begged, “I’ll be here when you return.”

“You promise?” He held up his pinky, like they had when they were children.

She smiled, “I promise,” and hooked her pinky with his.

“How sweet.” Ardyn appeared behind them, holding Noctis’ blade in hand. He tossed it to his feet. “You’ll have to do better than that if you want me to die.”

“How did you—“ Noctis couldn’t even finish his sentence. He had clearly impaled the man, but here he stood without problem.

“You see, that’s the thing about being immortal.” Ardyn smiled. “That means I can’t die.” Then he gave a more serious look. “But it appears your darling dear can.”

Luna held more tightly to Noctis’ clothes in an effort not to fall.

“Stay back!” Noctis barked, spitting venom.

“Oh, such a fight in you! How exciting.” He turned to leave, displaying a hole in the back of his jacket. “I’ve done all I can here. But we’ll meet again. Rather soon I hope.” He waved. “Ta-ta!”

The prince wanted to fight, but found his strength failing as he sank to the ground, Luna following suit.

“Tiny little mortals, what can a tiny babe know of love?” Leviathan taunted, reminding them the battle wasn’t over yet.

“Go,” she urged, reaching for her trident. “I will help you.”

He was unable to answer as he fell forward, bracing himself on his hands. He was so tired…

Luna held up the trident, a yellow light encompassing it.

A warmth, like a lovers embrace, took Noctis in a blinding brightness. He raised into the air as the trident left Luna’s hands and she collapsed to the ground. Noctis floated before his foe, the armiger floating around him threateningly.

“You have proven yourself to be strong, O King. But physical strength alone cannot persuade me.” Leviathan screamed.

Noctis shouted in return and warped into his attack. Each blow hit it’s mark, numbing his hands and causing Leviathan to shriek. Finally, he took hold of Luna��s trident and pierced the hide of the serpent, ripping all the way down the chest. This was his last blow, and the residual energy set him down gently beside Luna.

The Oracle scooted across the ground, pulling herself to sit beside him, scooping him up in her arms.

“I did it.” He whispered.

“Yes, you did.” She responded, resting her forehead on his. “Blessed stars of life and light…”

The Hydraean let out a shriek as water continued to spray the city. Luna curled around his head, trying to protect him from the onslaught of waves. His hand reached out and wrapped around her back, gently touching her skin.

In front of them, a large black figure rose up from the sea.

Exhausted, Luna felt herself slipping, and laid on the ground, with Noctis still in her arms.

His deep blue eyes opened, just barely able to look at her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so weak…”

“As am I…” she said quietly. Her words were barely audible over the roar of the waves and the trembling earth. “A chance to see you once more…who would have thought?”

“Why wouldn’t you see me again?” He asked, his brow crinkling.

“Because…my prayers have been answered. My calling fulfilled…”

“But…that doesn’t have to come between us.”

Her smile was heart-breaking. “You are the one Noctis. The stars shine for you now. That which was yours by right, will be fulfilled to you.”

She slipped her hand in his, knotting their fingers together. Then together, they closed their eyes.

The waiting landscape was a void, only dotted with sylleblossoms. Two children stood among them, looks of longing on both faces.

“Do you remember the flowers of Tenebrae? It seems so long ago.” Luna’s voice was clear as a bell. Healthier and warmer than it had been a moment ago. “You will find they await you still, blooming from hill to vale.”

“Will you be there?” The boy responded.

Luna, hesitant, shook her head dismally, beckoning forth a cold wind. Her skirts flowed freely, as she grew into the beautiful woman Noctis had only beheld for the first time a moment ago. “Would that I could join you…but this moment…will have to be enough.”

The flowers dissolved, turning to dust in the wind. The boy shivered, the coldness of death seeping into his bones. “It’s not right…” Tears kissed his cheeks, and he did nothing to hold them back. “All I…All I wanted was to save you…” He sniffed. “You promised you’d be waiting for me.”

“And I did…but now I must go.” She stooped to pluck a blossom. “When the world falls down around you, and hope is lost…”

He didn’t want to hear this.

“When you find yourself alone in a lightless place.”

Not her, not now…

“Look to the distance, know that I am there.”

In the distance…where he’d never be able to reach her.

“And that I will watch over you…always.” She held the blossom out to him only to let it drift on.

“No…no!”

“Farewell, dear Noctis…”

He took a shuttering breath and surged forward, his childhood innocence melting away and leaving a Prince with too big of shoes to fill. He kicked and he flailed, but she was just out of reach. Luna’s eyes closed and she slipped into the darkness.

The blossom melted too, giving way to the Ring of Lucii. The item that destiny dictated he wear. It made him sick just to look at it. But Luna had left it for him, and so he cupped it in his hand. His body still shook with sobs as he gripped the item tightly in his fist.

Gravity switched, and he was on his side and he was drenched. His eyes shot open, only to see the halted chest of Luna. He pulled away from her, looking down at her cold, motionless body.

“Luna…?” He whispered, terrified of the truth. But she was cold to the touch and her dress was soaked red. “LUNA!!” He screamed, lifting her into his arms. Her head lulled back. “No! This can’t be happening!! It can’t!”

It was then that he heard the gasping breath coming from beside him. He glanced over, disgusted by the intruder, only to see Ignis. Silvery scars littered his exposed skin and over his eyes.

“…Iggy?”

The ring laid between them, and everything made sense.

Noctis shook his head in denial and pulled Luna closer to him.

Damn fate. Damn the Astrals. Damn the Crystal. Damn the Scourge and the daemons. And damn him for being unable to anything about any of it.

He heard footsteps coming toward him, but he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Dude…” Prompto spoke, watching the scene in front of him.

Titan and Leviathan had retreated. Night had set, and the couple were framed in moonlight.

It would have been romantic, if not horribly tragic.

Noctis cupped Luna’s face, his tears dripping on her cheeks. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry….” He kissed her cold lips gently, scared that she would just disappear in his arms.

And she did. Gold light burned from within her, and she dissolved into flower petals. He watched them dance away, coldness setting upon his chest.

A hand gripped his shoulder. “She’s gone.” Gladio’s cold voice said.

Noctis shook his head and curled in on himself, weeping.

—

The next day, much later than anyone else, Noctis awoke with a feeling of emptiness. The night had been a blur. He was terribly worried about Ignis, who was rushed off to be treated for burns. While he himself had been steered to his room. Gladio stripped him of his shirt and shoved his head under the faucet of cold water. Then Prompto toweled him dry and put him to bed. Now he was mostly awake. His hair was a mess and he was bleary eyed, but he was awake.

“So you returned to us.” Said Ignis, plainly. “I’ll let the others know…though it may take a while.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you need rest?”

“I’ll be fine. It’s just superficial damage. A small sacrifice…in the greater battle.”

“And Luna?”

Ignis turned away from him, quiet for a moment. “I think you know.”

Noctis nodded solemnly.

“I think it is in our best interest for us to return to Lestallum.”

“What?! No we can’t!”

The horrible images that the ring had shown him flashed in Ignis’ eyes. “There have been so many sacrifices…what if there’s more to come?”

“That’s just it. We can’t stop now, or all of their sacrifices will have been in vain. Please don’t give up, Iggy.” The King was practically begging, though he was sore and tired himself.

Ignis sighed. “I don’t intend to give up…just…I think we should retreat for the time being. I believe that you and I are not in the best condition to move on yet. Gladio and Prompto were also injured in the fight, but not badly.”

“That’s good.” Noctis sighed. “Alright. We’ll go back to Lucis. But whatever we do there, I’d like to stay busy, or else…” he swallowed. “I’d like to forget about the last 24 hours.”

“Understandable.” Said Ignis, with consolation. He wandered over to the bed and reached out to touch Noctis’ shoulder, but touched his head instead. He didn’t correct himself. “It’s alright to mourn, you know. Even a King is allowed emotions.”

“Right…sure.”

Ignis withdrew and turned to the door. “Well…get dressed. We’ll be heading out soon.”

—

Back in Cape Caem, the group stood among their friends. Once the events of Altissa were revealed, tears were shed and hugs were bestowed. Though, Noctis was resolved not to cry anymore. A king shouldn’t show weakness.

“It’s late,” stated Gladio. “Whatever our next move is, it’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

The Prince said nothing, and only breezed past his friends and headed outside. The darkness, despite the threat it held, was a comfort to him. He made his way up to the lighthouse.

“Noctis, wait!” Prompto called out to him.

Wait, he did.

“I…I know you want to be alone. But I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

Out of all of those who could be with him, he was glad it was Prompto. He always spared a kind word, and his own insecurities made him feel really human. His heart was bigger then anyone’s.

“Okay.” Noctis said after a beat. “I’m just going to look at the stars.”

“Sounds fun!”

The duo rode the elevator up to the top deck, and then exited, leaning against the railing.

Prompto wasn’t usually the type to have patience for sitting around. Fishing trips were boring, but he still went because he enjoyed spending time with his buddy. But at this moment, staring at the stars in silence, it felt right. It might have been minutes or hours, but neither knew. It was just a matter of letting their thoughts go and watching as the world went by.

But eventually, that silence came to an end, and Prompto blurted out without thinking. “Did you love her?”

Noctis was quiet, still trapped in his trance. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. I still do.”

“Would you…bring her back, if you could?”

“In a heart beat.”

Prompto frowned, hating seeing his friend in so much pain. “I wish I could have met her. She seemed really nice…you know, from the one letter she sent me.”

Noctis smiled. “That’s just like her though.”

“So…she was nice. What else was she like?”

Noctis sigh wistfully, “Nice doesn’t even cut it. She had the most gentle spirit. Any word she said was comforting. And she was unfathomably wise. She always knew what to say. I was fortunate to be able to confide in her during some of my awkward stages.”

“To be fair, you’re still in an awkward stage.”

“Shut up.”

Prompto giggled. “That’s why she made such a good Oracle.”

“Yeah…” Noctis glanced down to the water below, watching the waves crash into the rocks in the moonlight. “She also had a wicked sense of humor.”

“Really? I never would have thought.”

“She was always so prim and proper, but in our journal, that’s when she was able to be herself.” He looked over to Prompto, and pretended he wasn’t choking up. “I always knew we’d be married some day. She knew too. Not just because of destiny and the bond between the Oracle and the True king…but…” He shook his head. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“No way dude, what is it?”

“I think we were Soulmates.”

Prompto’s shoulders sunk. “Soulmates, huh? Thats…that’s a powerful word.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I don’t know any better because I haven’t ever loved anyone else.” Noctis looked away again, turning around to look across the landscape. The Disc of Cauthess was burning in the distance. “Thanks. For letting me be real, and not making fun of me. I couldn’t have said any of that around Gladio.”

“I bet Gladio wouldn’t have asked.”

“True.”

“So…” Prompto nudged him with his elbow. “What do you want to do now?”

“We should head toward the Empire…but I’m worried about Ignis.”

“Me too, man.” Prompto screwed up his lips. “I…am not really looking forward to that mountain yet either. I dislocated my hip turning the fight with Leviathan. It’s back now, but it still hurts to walk.” He looked bashful, “sorry, I didn’t mean to complain.”

“You’re fine. To be honest, I don’t want to go to the Empire either…I don’t know if I’m strong enough to face….whatever awaits us there. Ardyn, daemons…or an army. I just…need something else first.”

“Hey, that’s an idea! We can look for more royal tombs!”

Noctis nodded, smiling softly, “good idea. I bet Specs and Gladio would go for it.”

“Then it’s settled.” Prompto clapped, invigorated. “Let’s get to bed.”

The two walked back to the cabin, feeling at least a little better.

On the porch waited a visitor.

“Umbra?” Noctis approached the dog carefully, holding out his hand. “Hey boy…”

Umbra whined, and leaned into the affectionate pet. Noctis took out the journal, and flipped through the pages, just to be close to Luna for a moment, but then, at the last page, a sylleblossom was pressed in the paper.

“Oh…” Noctis sighed. “Why must I be tormented like this?”

“Soulmates dude.” Prompto shrugged, sympathetically. “She’s watching over you.”

Noctis nodded, but didn’t feel any better.

—

The ride to Lestallum was mostly made in silence, but not for the lack of trying on Prompto’s part. Noctis and him sat in the back, while Gladio drove and Ignis rode shotgun, since he couldn’t drive anymore.

But as Prompto looked over his gaggle of friends, he began to worry about the brotherly bond they had formed. It seemed the death of the Oracle had been a tragedy in many, many ways.

Noctis kept his hand in a fist, where he held the Ring. He hadn’t shown anyone the item, but the burden it saddened him with was almost too great to bare. On more then one occasion, he had begged Gladio to pull over to vomit.

“The hell is with you?” Gladio finally asked on the third pull over. “I’m not that bad of a driver.”

“It’s not you.” Noctis assured. “I’m just…dealing with stuff.”

“Yeah, well we’re all dealing with stuff, cool guy.” He spit, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror. “And I don’t hear anyone else complaining.”

“I’m not complaining! I just don’t want to get sick on the upholstery!” The Prince argued back.

“Bullshit! I’ve been listening to you sniffling back there like a goddamn child! You’re a King, act like it!”

“My fiancée died two days ago! Let me grieve!”

Gladio turned around, and pinned him with his blood red eyes. “And hundreds more people are going to die! Are you going to be known as the crying, selfish, baby King? Maybe if you stopped moping around, you’d give a shit about someone worse off then you. Get over it!”

“I am over it!” Noctis lied.

“How does that ring fit? Rather carry it then wear it?”

“Shut up!”

“She gave her life so you could do your duty, not sit around and feel sorry for yourself!”

“I know!”

“No, you don’t! Ignis took one for you too, and for what?”

“Enough Gladio.” Ignis cut in. “I’ve listened long enough. Let Noctis grieve now, or else it’ll happen at the most inopportune time.”

Gladio curled his lip up in a snarl. “Fine. Keep spoiling him, see if I care.” He turned back around, and turned the car on. “Let the coward cry.”

“Gladio—“ Prompto tried to intervene.

“I get it!” Noctis shouted, his voice breaking, hating to be subjected to this cruelty. “I get it.”

It seemed that the King had the last word as no one could fight with the pain in his voice. Noctis, hurt, turned his face away and looked at the scenery as Gladio started to drive again. A hand rested on his shoulder, and he turned to see Prompto with a gentle, reassuring smile.

He didn’t even try to return it.

—

Some time around 12:00, the group pulled over in Old Lestallum to get food and gas.

“I like this town.” Prompto announced with a sigh. “It’s…rural.”

“And always suffering under the thumb of the base.” Ignis pointed to the fort that resided on the other side of the river.

“Not anymore it’s not.” Prompto countered. “Or did you forget we totally wiped their asses?”

“We did, for now. But how long will it take for more troops to move in?”

“…hm.”

Noctis interrupted. “Are we getting grub, or what?”

“We’re getting grub, you’re getting gas.” Gladio tossed the keys to the Prince.

Noctis muttered under his breath. “We’re getting grub, you’re getting gas. God, you’re such a bully.”

“You say something?”

“Nothing, Your Strongliness.”

Gladio frowned in his direction, but ultimately said nothing.

Once the group had disappeared into the diner, Noctis raised his fist and again looked at the ring in his clutch. His fingers trembled as an unbearable ringing in his ears gave him a headache. “Man, being royalty sucks.” He whispered. When he finished fueling, he headed to the diner.

“…they say it’s the size of a building! No hunter has been able to kill it.” Noctis overheard the tipster say.

“And this is where, again?” Asked Ignis.

“Over in Malmalm Thicket. There’s a bridge that goes over a river, and then a road that goes up the mountain.”

“Sounds like a party.” Gladio appraised. He looked over to the King, who had finally joined them. “How ‘bout it? Feeling man enough to take on the Bandersnatch?”

Noctis rolled his eyes dramatically. “If I say yes, will you stop acting like a jerk?”

“If I say yes, will you stop acting like a bitch?”

“God!”

“I think we’ll take you up on that hunt,” Ignis told the tipster before anything else could be said.

“Can I also get a burger and some fries?” Asked Prompto, meekly. “…Make that four burgers, I’m starving.”

—

“Are we there yet? I hate hiking!”

“My feet hurt.”

“You two are the most insufferable children on Titan’s green Earth.” Ignis complained, hanging onto Prompto’s arm for support.

“I hate you all.” Said Gladio.

They were just barely up the mountain, and they had felled several spiracorns, but the exhaustion was apparent on their faces.

“The sun’s setting.” Prompto noted. “Should we head back down the mountain and look for a haven?”

“I’m not hiking up this hill again tomorrow.” Noctis said, “let’s just plow through. The dungeons always have daemons in them anyway.”

Gladio and Ignis said nothing, just agreeing with him.

The entrance to the thicket was dark against the setting sun, and only scant light shown through. There was distant buzzing.

“Uggghhh…”

“What now?” Gladio gave Prompto a look.

“Killer wasps…I don’t like bugs.”

“I’m with you on that one, buddy.” Noctis added.

“Do you want to check this place out for a Royal Tomb or not?” Gladio put his hands on his waist, feeling like a mom reprimanding her children.

“Yes!” Said Noctis, annoyed of Gladio’s overbearing behavior. “I’m just not keen on being poisoned! Just like I don’t like vomiting in cars!”

“Fine!”

Together, awkwardly, they stomped their way into the Thicket.

—

“SWING YOUR DAMN SWORD THE OTHER WAY!”

“WHAT!?”

“OTHER WAY!”

“I think Gladio’s a touch confused.”

“YEAH, NO SHIT HONEY!”

The battle wasn’t going stellar. Ignis was out, because no one wanted a blind man throwing Daggers. Prompto had been poisoned and then passed out. And now Noctis was alternating between fighting daemons and fighting Gladio.

Said fighter shook himself. “I’m back!”

“About time!” Noctis covered his face in his shirt as another blast of gas from the wasps filled the air. He could Gladio coughing a few feet away from him. “Now do you see the practicality of wearing a shirt?!”

The blade of a broadsword missed his head by mere inches, thanks to his quick reflexes.

“I can’t take this anymore!” Noctis shouted before the royal arms tore from his back. Gracelessly, he ricocheted through the group of monsters and crushed them all. Only when the insistent buzzing disappeared did he allow himself to return to his normal breathing rate.

“Impressive.” Was Ignis’ coy reply from the shadows.

“It was.”

“Prompto, wake up.” Ignis said, kneeling on the ground with a potion.

“There better not be anymore nasties for a while.” Noctis groaned as he watched Gladio continue to battle with the air. “Knock it off, Pecs!”

“What?” Asked Ignis.

“I said PECS not SPECS!”

“WHAT!?” Screamed Gladio.

“THE MONSTERS ARE GONE!”

Prompto sat up, taking the potion with thanks. “Do you guys see that blue glow over there?”

The group turned and looked the direction Prompto pointed his flashlight.

“It’s a Haven!” Noctis nearly shouted, running.

“Hey! Why don’t you think of someone else for a change?” Gladio shouted after him.

“I am! I’m scouting!”

“Selfish, no good, wannabe—“

“HAAA!”

CRACK.

The group paused and listened after hearing Noctis shout.

“I killed a crab.” He finally announced.

“Splendid. I think we’ll have crab for dinner then.”

“The area around the haven is clear of beasts and daemons. But there is a creek, so be careful Iggy.”

“Thank you, Noctis.”

Finally, everyone made it to the haven, and the tent was pitched. Firewood was gathered and a meal was started. Then, Noctis collapsed in a chair and relaxed for a moment. That is, before Gladio gave him a punch to the shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“…that was a thanks, for saving my butt…all our butts back there.”

Noctis smiled at the compliment. “If you punch your friends, I’d hate to see what you do to your enemies.”

Gladio gave a wicked smile before it faded. “You’ll see it the next time we face Ardyn.”

On that awkward note, Ignis jumped in. “The bisque is finished.”

“Alright!” Cried Prompto, getting out of the tent. “Soup’s on!”

After dinner, the group sat around chit chatting. Noctis was quiet, however, feeling a weight on his chest from his breast pocket.

“You okay Noct?” Prompto finally asked when he got a glimpse of his cringing face.

“Not this again…” Gladio drawled.

“It’s the ring…” Noctis bit out. He took the Ring of Lucii out of his pocket and held it in his palm, his body trembling.

“Well if it’s such a burden, why don’t I carry it?” Gladio posed, standing.

“No!” Noctis pulled his hand back. “You can’t!”

“What’s wrong Smeagol? ‘Fraid I won’t give it back?”

Noctis clenched his teeth. “Fine. You want to see it? Hold out your hand.”

“Do NOT put it on.” Ignis bit.

“Tch, like it’s that bad.” He thrust his hand out, way too eager.

Noctis hesitated. “You promise you won’t put it on?”

“Cross my heart.” Gladio said smugly.

Noctis dropped it into his waiting palm.

Without warning, Gladio was undated with horrific images. Images of things yet to come, and things that already happened. He heard Ignis’ screams of anguish as his eyes were burned out of his skull. He saw Luna stabbed through her eyes and through Noctis’. Then came the frightening faces and ghostly whispers of the Kings of Lucis’ past. All of this came at once, and Gladio was pinned to the ground by the ring.

After only a few seconds, he dropped it. As his body continued to tremble, he met Noctis’ eyes, which held no sympathy.

“I’m…I’m sorry.” He managed. “I didn’t…I thought it was just a ring…” He covered his mouth as he felt the bile making it’s way up his throat.

Noctis sighed. “It’s okay. But don’t call me a bitch anymore.”

Gladio chuckled, still shaking, “deal.”

Prompto stood from his seat. “Okay, I’m next.”

“You don’t have to.” Noctis quickly defended, picking up the ring from the ground.

“Yes, I do. Whatever this thing is…it’s changed all of you. And I don’t want to be left behind.” He came closer and knelt on the ground, “Noct, buddy, let me help you out here.”

Noctis hesitated again, but held the piece up between his fingers. “I’m sorry in advance.”

Prompto nodded and held his hand out.

The ring fell into his palm.

The same images overwhelmed Prompto…but he seemed to handle it better than Gladio had. But after a few seconds, he dropped the ring too. Crying, he screamed out, “This isn’t fair!”

“Yeah…” Agreed Gladio. “It sucks…big time.”

Silence held the group before Noctis picked up the ring again. “Well, I’m bushed. Goodnight y’all.”

And without another word, he departed into the tent.

—

The dreamscape was familiar. A void of white, dotted with blue flowers.

“Luna?” He called, because the flowers could only mean one thing. Instead, a woman in black clothes appeared, a smile on her face. “Gentiana…”

“O King. The god’s have heard your cries. Know that we weep with you.”

Noctis looked to his bare feet. “Yeah, I bet.”

“The Oracle’s calling has not yet been fulfilled. But…Lunafreya as you know her cannot return the way she was.”

Noctis looked up, hopeful. “But she can return?!”

“In a way.” Gentiana said vaguely, before she stooped to pluck a flower. “Though the road will be difficult, and sometimes confusing. One day, your bride will be in your arms once again.”

He furrowed his brow. “What must I do?”

“You are already on the right track. Continue seeking out the Royal Arms, and you will find what you are looking for.”

“Noct! Wake up! We got a Bandersnatch to maim!”

The void turned black, and suddenly he was looking into Gladio’s face. “Ugh, of all the things to see first thing in the morning, it has to be your ugly mug.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #Final Fantasy #final fantasy xv #ffxv #ignis #noctis #noctis lucis caelum #prince noctis #gladiolus amicitia #gladio #prompto #lunafreya nox fleuret #lunoct #noctis x luna

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lemonlilyxx-blog · 7 years

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Average -Minicat- Part Four, Craig

When Sark said that Tyler ‘knew what he was doing,’ I imagined it more such as him giving my advice on what to use, how to properly clean the wounds and get the dried blood off my skin. Not him just handing me a first-aid kit and basically saying ‘good fucking luck.’ Maybe this was his version of payback for me screaming at him out of pure shock. And Daithi not being where I left him just made me want to scream more. Although I didn’t mention to him about how assholish he was being for not helping me, I was the asshole first. It would be narcissistic and a jerk move of me to ask for help after everything.

“So,” Tyler finally broke the silence. I shut off the faucet and furiously scrubbed dried blood from my face, only causing more to drip down. “You’re on TV a lot.”

“Really? I never realized,” I sighed in annoyance. I didn’t feel like talking, and my burn was throbbing beyond belief, so that seemed for more urgent than coming up with awkward conversation. `

“Damn who pissed in your pants this morning?” Tyler chucked. I glared at him through the mirror, and his face fell. He cleared his throat, and I took the silence as my turn to speak.

“So, I really didn’t mean to throw that big of a hissyfit. I was just,” I winced as I accidently moved my hand onto the small pile broken glass and rocks I had pulled out of my skin. “I just needed to scream at somebody, because humanity is just..”

“Super damn mega-fucked?”

“Couldn’t have phrased it better,” I chucked while wincing slightly, and Tyler’s smile returned. “Is there burn shit in the kit?” I asked, grabbing a few bandages and sticking them on my forehead, hiding the too bloody scene of a wound. Tyler peeked through the box, and after an awkward moment, pulled out a small tube and some bandage wrap. He tossed them to the counter and let me do the work. I grabbed the scissors I used to cut up my sleeves to clean up more blood, and cut away the lower part of my pant leg.The bone felt like it was one fire underneath the black and brown burn, and just looking at it made my head swim and perspiration gather on my forehead. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Tyler cringe away. I already knew that since the skin wasn’t in large pain, it had definitely ruined the deep nerves. I’d need to see a doctor for this one, no doubt. Just as I was about to put the cream on the burn, Tyler stopped me grabbing my wrist.

“Maybe we should see an actual doctor for that,” he pleaded. “The skin is basically black, like, it’s bad. It’s really bad.”

“No shit, sherlock,” I tried yanking my hand away, but his grip tightened harshly, where I felt my bone would actually snap beneath his fingers.

“I don’t, uh, I just don’t trust you with this one. I can get by Sark and to my car, but we would need to wait for a friend of mine,” he sheepishly offered. “Just, it’s gonna be worse if you try and touch it.”

“And how and I supposed to even trust you?” I snapped.

“Just, Craig, please?” It wasn’t his begging I said yes to, it was the fact that he was offering to get me to a hospital for extreme medical treatment. But not before I tried putting on the burn cream and crying like a small child. With one arm around his neck and his around my waist, we somehow managed out of the large crowd and narrowly missing Sark seeing us, yet Tyler still felt necessary that he would call him and come back later.

By now the street and grass was covered in ambulances and police cars and news vans, yet nobody seemed to pay attention to us, all hurriedly grabbing the severely injured and the dead. It was said by their expressions alone ‘in this situation, if you can walk or get someone to help you walk, then you’re fine Take your own car to the hospital.’ And they were right. I could be dead, but I’m not.

Finally getting to the car, weirdly parked in an alleyway parking spot, I laid down in the back seat while Tyler anxiously waited for whoever his friend was. The wait was painful, my head and leg was throbbing and the tears had long dried on my cheeks, but finally Tyler hurriedly pushed someone into the car and got into the driver's seat. And finally, we left. The two made soft, yet urgent chatter in the front, yet I had no clue who was talking.

“So, it’s the news reporter that you-”

“Dude, he’s seriously hurt, let it go. It’s just.. Wrong to think about it when he’s hurt. It’s not like we’re kidnapping him.”

“Sorry dude.”

“Sark was at the restaurant.” So that was Tyler.

“Oh yeah?”

“He was all wound up about the situation.” “Well you see-”

“No, it wasn’t like ‘oh my gosh death,’ he was talking about the facility.”

“Shit. What did he say?”

“He was like all nervous about how I was talking to some dudes, that they knew my name, uh, and he was just saying not to leave the restaurant or go anywhere without him. We need to go to his house too. Oh, and Montoya and his experiments are for creating super soldiers. He wants you dead and for me to go back.”

That was when I needed to step in. “What the actual hell are you guys saying?” I asked, voice cracking slightly. The asian cursed under his breath.

“Tyler what the actual fuck,” he muttered.

“I- I just felt like you needed to know!” He defended, knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel.

“Well now one person too many knows.” The asians head drooped.

“I mean,” I said. “I could walk.”

“No, no no no, no,” Tyler sighed. “Disregard what I said. Everything I just said. Forget I exist, would be good too.”

“What are your occupations?” I asked tentatively.

“I work at the bank,” Tyler said. “And Evan works as a waiter.”

“Besides that.” I pressed, and Evan snorted.

“What do you think we’re fucking superheros or some shit? We’re just average.”

“Tell me,” I snapped harshly. “Does average mean that Tyler over here can fucking like, snap the barrel of a gun with his damn bare hands? Excuse me, one handed? Because that’s not a regular everyday thing to happen.”

“Tyler!” Evan yelled in surprise. “What the actual hell were you thinking you idiot!” I winced, the loud noise going from my ears straight to my leg. We’d better get to the hospital soon.

“Well you see,” Tyler said, much calmer than Evan. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“You’re making this out as some fucking joke dude and it’s not. If Sark wants us at his place then we go to his place. Like now.”

“We need to get Craig to the hospital still-”

“FUCKING FINE THEN. GET CRAIG TO THE HOSPITAL. Why didn’t you get him in an ambulance!”

“We tried!” Tyler weakly protested. Evan didn’t respond, and the car fell into a silence, the only thing making a sound was me, twisting and turning, holding in groans of pain. How I limped out to save something, then run around a restaurant for a bit, I had no clue since now white spots dances in my poor vision due from pain.

When we had finally arrived at the hospital, the second the doctors had me in their hands the two left. As much as I would had loved to have them stay, they had their commitments- whatever they were talking about in the car. But still, knowing someone was there that I could talk to, besides doctors whose main goal was my physical health, would have been nice. All my family was back in the United Kingdom, and I kept myself very tucked away from people, I was quite picky-choosey about who were my friends and who weren’t. It was either who I didn’t talk to, or who I did. Since I arrived a few years ago, it had really only been Daithi, Jonathan, and Marcel. Yet Daithi was in the hospital, Jon was probably stuck at the office prepping the news reports, and Marcel lives in the apartment complex a block away from the park- so they’re probably on lockdown and he’s stuck there.

I let my mind drift as the doctors rushed me through a maze of hallways, ignoring them prodding the wounds until they bled again, and all avoiding the grotesque burn on my leg. They ripped off the bandages and applied their own as they brought me into a room filled with tired and awaiting doctors and nurses and surgeons.

“Sir, what’s your name?” One asked urgently.

“Craig Thompson,” I replied, slightly disgruntled and unnerved. The room fluttered about, some writing my name down and the others preparing the bed and equipment.

“Mr. Thompson, these people here are going to clean your wounds and review medical history. If it is all clear, they will then need to remove the burned skin and replace it, since the skin is too damaged to be salvaged and re-healed, alright?” A doctor explain quickly, yet my slightly ringing ears only picked up some of what he said.

“Alright,” I croaked, my heart attempting to break free of my chest. Maybe having not someone else here was good, I wouldn’t embarrass myself and annoy them bitching and crying like a child. Yet I still longed for a familiar hand to cling to.

#minicat

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sophiewritesworld · 6 years

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A Kiss To Change It All (Part 16) - Montgomery de la Cruz

Pairing: Jeff Atkins x Reader; Montgomery de la Cruz x Reader

Warning: Feels.

Word count: 1337 words.

School started again for you on Tuesday.

"You'll have to talk it out sooner or later, sweetheart."

You sighed and looked at the car parked next to Jeff's. The familiar Jeep made your heart skip beats. "I know, Jeff, I know." Your voice was barely louder than a whisper. He had to meet up with the coach and you... Well, you had to walk alone. You never felt this anxious walking into Liberty and you certainly never felt this nervous when your eyes met Montgomery's when you stopped by your locker. He looked at you for a few seconds, enough for you to notice the bruises on his face and the cut on his lower lip. Your nervousness turned into worry and concern. What on earth did he get himself into again? You sighed and proceeded to open your locker.

"He got into a fight on Thursday in case you're wondering."

You turned around only to come face to face with Justin. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" You wanted to play dumb but your voice and the look in your eyes betrayed you. He shook his head and looked towards Montgomery. It was enough for you to understand that he also knew about your relationship. "Who was the unlucky guy?"

"Some random dude from senior year. (Y/N) you have to sort things out, he really cares about you and he had been a total mess without you..." You rolled your eyes and went back to picking your books for your morning classes. "I was there and he didn't give a shit about her."

"That's not what I saw, Justin and not to be mean or anything, but it's none of your business." You closed your locker and walked past him towards your first period which for your fortunate soul was French. You knew you had to face him at some point, you knew you had to talk because you couldn't just move on from two months of pure happiness and ignore each other as if nothing ever happened between you. He showed up just a minute after you with Justin who gave you a pleading look when Montgomery sat down next to you. He seemed tired. Even more, than you were after almost five nights without proper sleep. He didn't look at you, he played with his sleeves, eyes focused on the red and blue fabric of his flannel. You had never seen him like that.

When you stopped by your locker before lunch break to drop some books and pick some others, you found a light blue post-it note inside. 'Meet me in the bathroom - M'. At first, you wanted to ignore it but as you walked towards the cafeteria, holding onto the small piece of paper, you kept thinking about it and before you knew it, you spun on your heels and made your way to the bathroom, heart beating fast as you approached it. There he was, resting against the sink, hands shoved deep in his jeans' pockets, eyes on the white tiled floor. You cleared your throat, quickly catching his attention. "Hey."

"Hey..." Every muscle of his body seemed tensed despite the soft look he gave you. That look though was different from the usual flirty ones, it showed weakness and guilt. He didn't move from his spot, afraid you may run away from him. "How do you feel?" He was careful not to rush and tell you how much of an idiot he was that day and how much he beat himself up for it.

"Better... Thank you." Silent filled the room in seconds. The only sound was the faucet dripping in the sink, each drop echoing like a cymbal. "Hm... What was it about?" You spoke again.

He shifted on his feet and took a step towards you but still keeping a distance between you. "I am sorry (Y/N), I was a damn idiot that hurt you but I swear it's not what you were thinking it was."

"What was it then?"

"This girl doesn't seem to understand what I say." He threw his arms in the air, his voice rising a little bit. "I pushed her away so many times but she just laughs at whatever I say and keeps thinking she could have me... Ask Justin and Zach if you don't believe me." He said those last words in a hurt tone.

He didn't lie to you. "Dumb bitch." You mumbled looking down at your shoes, anger building inside of you. How could you even think he would do such a thing? You felt stupid for not trusting him.

"You're the only one I see." He took a step closer to you. "I could never hurt you." Another step. He was inches away from you. "I would never cheat on you, my princess..." With his index and thumb, he tilted your head up so you were looking at him. "Because you're the best thing that ever happened to me. Damn it, you're the only good thing in my life and I wouldn't risk losing you because I love you (Y/N)..." Your eyes widened and every ounce of breath was taken away from your lungs. None of you ever said those words and to say the least, you weren't expecting him to be the first one to say them because despite showing you affection and everything, you weren't so sure Montgomery de la Cruz could do feelings.

"What did you say?" You managed to say in a low voice.

He smiled for the first time since the fight. "I'm so in love with you, (Y/N)." This time, you let that voice guide you and the next thing you knew, you were kissing him, arms wrapped around his neck. He stumbled a bit before he gripped your waist pulling you as close to him as possible.

"I love you too, Monty." You whispered against his lips. It felt like you had been away from each other for longer than just a few days because he couldn't help but play with your hair when your buried your face in his neck and tell you how much he missed having you in his arms.

At that exact moment he wondered why he didn't make a move on your earlier than during the Winter formal, maybe you would have saved him from many troubles, maybe you would have helped him cope with the problems he had at home in a different way because he had to admit it, never in his existence he felt safe and loved until he was with you. "I don't want us to hide anymore." He said after a moment. And it was the end of the sneaking and hiding from everyone when you both entered the cafeteria holding hands. You gripped his hand tighter when people started looking at you, some whispering and some just getting back to whatever they were doing before you walked in. You stopped by your usual table, ignoring Bryce's calls. Jessica almost choked on her sandwich when Montgomery cupped your face and kissed you right in front of them. "I'll see you later, princess?" He whispered against your lips. You nodded and kissed him quickly before he left, Bryce immediately pulling him down and next to him.

Jessica couldn't speak, she kept opening and closing her mouth with no sound coming out of it, eyes wide open, just as Clay who was sitting next to Jeff. "How... What..."

"I guess everything's good between you now, right sweetheart?" You nodded and rested your head on your best friend's shoulder. No more lying to any of your friends. Later that afternoon, you went to Monet's with Alex and Jessica to tell her mainly how you and Montgomery got together and kept it a secret from everyone. Despite Alex not really liking him, he was glad to see you happy and 'whipped'. Tony wasn't there that day but you texted him and told him what happened. You wanted the world to know about you and him.

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ecotone99 · 5 years

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[NF] "This is the end... for now."

“This is the end... for now.”

A True Story of a Former NCAA D1 Athlete

The hotel phone started to scream. This is the modern day rooster. Courtesy wake up calls never feel courteous.

My body was as stiff as a wooden board. I could feel every muscle aching and my back spasms get off to an early start. Even opening my eyes was a competition between my exhaustion and waning motivation. I did the most ungraceful shimmy type of move to get out of the bed in one piece.

It was almost noon, and I was already missing morning workouts to prepare for the semi-final round that night. This was the Florida Tropicana tournament, with professional scouts everywhere. Even at the morning warm-ups. Instead of fighting to live my dream, this was what I had come to; staying up all night binge eating and drinking, smoking a pack of cigarettes a day, and setting my wake-up call for 11:30 AM when morning workouts started at 10 AM. The team would return to the hotel around one o’clock. I did not want to be a mess in bed by then, so I fought to get up from the edge of the bed after having my wakeup smoke.

I stumbled to the bathroom door, kicking all the beer bottles and empty food containers along the way. This was what I called a “power binge.” A power binge consisted of any food consumption in one sitting that added up to over five thousand calories. I know it sounds like a lot, but I was at the point where I could handle anywhere from three to five of those binges per week. Ironically they would be accompanied by a light beer or diet soda if I was not drinking bourbon. What can I say? I did not want to drink my calories.

As I arrived at the bathroom mirror, I was disgusted by my reflection. My weight gain was becoming more evident and I had a grayish tone to my skin that resembled clay. A twenty-one-year-old man should not look like this - especially a top division collegiate athlete. I had formed the most grotesque pattern of stretch marks on the front of my stomach which was as red as an apple and extremely painful. It looked like I had been stabbed multiple times around my torso. I wished I could vomit, but it was not happening. Throwing up on demand was never a talent of mine. God bless bulimics.

I turned the faucet on with my left hand and made sure the water temperature was just right for my toothbrush. As I transferred my toothbrush from my left to right hand, something was wrong. I could no longer lift my right arm at all. It had gone completely numb, accompanied by a strange burning sensation that I had never felt before. This was out of the ordinary. It felt like a swarm of scorching hot spiders were crawling chaotically on the inside of my shoulder and down through my elbow. Tears uncontrollably dripped from my eyes. I did not know what hurt worse; the physical or emotional pain that I was experiencing. Perhaps it was the perfect combination of both.

I could hear my cell phone ringing on the bed. I rushed over as quickly as I could to answer the phone. It was my father. He asked me how the trip was going, and I did my best to fight back the tears from the pain that I was experiencing. I do not think he was sold on my pitch of everything going perfectly, but he did not push me to talk about it. The conversation was short, and I hung up faster than he could say goodbye. I felt terrible, but I could not hold the pain in for another second.

Suddenly, I heard knocking at my door. I still had not cleaned up or put a shirt on yet. It was Coach Belton, the pitching coach of our team. He sounded sincerely concerned - he had always been good to me. When I was very young, my dad used to send me to private pitching lessons with Belton. At the time Belton was a minor league pitcher giving pitching clinics locally during his off-season.

“Josh, please listen, man. Just open the door. Nobody is mad at you for missing practice. I am just concerned and want to make sure that you are okay.” “I’m good,” I blurted back. “Okay Josh, I’m going to get a copy of your room key. Save us both the hassle and just let me in.” I took a deep breath as my heart sunk from my chest to my stomach. The second I opened that door I was letting Belton into my own personal hell. The freak show starring yours truly. Part of me wanted him to see what I was going through on the improbable chance that he could save me from myself. I gulped down a handful of ibuprofen and opened the door. We started our conversation at the doorway…

“You look like shit, dude.”

“Yeah Coach, I do.”

“Your shoulder is hanging.”

“I’m okay. I have some ibuprofen…”

“I brought you a pretzel and a Gatorade. Let’s talk.”

“Take the Gatorade, leave the pretzel.”

As Belton entered the room I could see his immediate reaction was that of concern. We sat on the bed and spoke for a minute about what I missed from morning warm-ups. There were some funny stories and information on the game later that night that I needed to know. Then the serious talk was about to begin.

In case you have never played organized sports at a competitive level, let me explain something to you. Yes, I just totally broke the fourth wall for a moment. Please forgive me and let us move on. When a coach asks an athlete if he is healthy enough to play, there is an honesty rate of about twenty percent. Most athletes will play through the worst of injuries if they feel it is best for the team. In cases like mine, being the captain on a scholarship with all of the pressure on your shoulders, saying that you are too hurt to play is considered quitting. We literally had starters playing through fractured bones, bruised ribs, and shin splints; if a player could physically move they considered themselves well enough to play. I had pitched through a ruptured meniscus in my right knee throughout my whole senior year of high school. To this day, my knee has never fully healed.

The “are you hurt,” conversation began and I denied it the whole way through to Belton. I repeatedly said I was fine and the pain was no more than the usual. I pulled out all the tricks in the book, including the claim that I had just slept on my shoulder in a weird way. Just as I thought I was getting off the hook, coach Moreno walked through my door and into the room.

“What’s up, Josh?” He looked around the room. “Have a crazy night? Listen, Thompson said you are having shoulder issues flaring up again. You okay?” “Yeah coach, don’t listen to Thompson. He’s just being an overprotective catcher.” Moreno stared at me in a weird way for a minute, trying to test my honesty. “We need you to pitch tonight Josh. Don’t mess around.” “I am fine, coach.” Then Belton intervened.

“Okay Josh, go touch the smoke detector.” Belton stared at me for a second, seeing if I would go for the bait. The smoke detector was about an arm’s reach away over my head. I got up and slapped the detector with my left hand. I turned and smiled, and sat back down. Belton was wearing a very concerned look on his face and was not in the mood for my joke. “Very good, Josh. Now do it with your right hand.” “This is stupid,” I said as I tried to deflect the request. Coach Moreno started to insist, “What is the big deal, Josh? Just stand up and do it.” I tried to muster up every bit of energy that I could. As I went to reach up, the same feeling as earlier with my toothbrush returned aggressively. I got my arm about six inches up from my side before it involuntarily hung back down. I could not touch the damn smoke detector, and now my own personal smoke screen had been cleared. I was caught.

“Okay, so you’re hurting,” said Moreno. “Go to the trainer’s room and get a Toradol shot. You’ll be good to pitch tonight. I think Vanessa is in her room.” Moreno immediately left the room after he let me know where the trainer was staying.

I turned to Belton and told him I was tired of everything. I was tired of the shots, the ibuprofen, the lying about my pain. I hated how physically difficult every second of my life was becoming when I was not on the mound. Belton just listened and nodded his head. As he stood up, he stretched his arms and turned to me slowly. “I’m no shrink, but what I do know is this. If you don’t figure this whole thing out you’re going to look back five years from now and talk about how your glory days have passed you by.” Coach Belton was right about me looking back, only now I believe my glory days are still ahead of me.

I never went to the room where our trainer was staying. I went straight to the bus as we took the trip to the field. Coach Moreno sat with me on the bus ride to the field. He informed me that he knew I never went to Vanessa to get the shot. I assured him I could still throw and I would be fine. I had a whole bottle of ibuprofen and a sandwich case with some of my stronger prescription pain medications in my equipment bag. My brilliant plan was to down half the bottle all at once before the game with the prescriptions, and then the other half of the stash gradually throughout the game. As long as I could lift my arm; I could pitch. I was on two days rest, which was an adequate amount of time for a tournament like this.

I followed through with the first half of the plan, taking half of the bottle and forcing each arm lift throughout my warm-up. I could not get enough juice going to feel comfortable, and my back spasms started early. I took more ibuprofen, and now only had about a quarter of the bottle left. The game had not even started yet, and I had taken enough pain medication to numb a horse and its jockey. Jockeys are really small guys, so that alone is not anything to write home about. But numb his horse too - and you may have taken too much.

I got out to the mound feeling shaky. Somehow, by the grace of God, I got through that first inning in approximately six pitches. I got lucky and was happy that I did not have to throw too much to get things started. My teammates were all telling me how happy they were that I was pitching. The Yankee scouts from earlier in the week were in attendance behind home plate, along with an entire section of scouts from various teams. I just blurred out all of their faces and focused on pitching the best game that I could. It was similar to Kevin Costner in For the Love of the Game when he says, “Release the mechanism.”

I made it all the way through the fifth inning, giving up no runs, two hits, one walk, and six strikeouts. I had run out of pills and had to go out for the sixth. Our bullpen was thin and unreliable, so the coach was really set on having me throw one more inning. My only option left was to just go to the trainer and discretely get more pills. After a long and tough inner battle, I decided against that route. My arm was a beat-up truck with high mileage, and I was going to drive it as far as I could until the wheels fell off.

A feeling started to creep up that this was the end. One last inning to complete my baseball career. My whole portfolio of work and dedication was going to be summarized into the next three outs in this one game.

I sent a text message to my dad from the dugout, “Thanks for the support. Love you.” For a moment, I put everything behind me. The weight gain, the pain, the depression; it was all obsolete. There was no pressure, no scouts, no game; this was for me. If I had anything left in me, it was going to be left out on the field. I was walking willingly through the door to career suicide and made peace with myself.

That next half-inning before I went back out to the mound probably took about ten minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. Coach Belton came and sat down next to me as I was preparing for this spectacular finish. “The scouts from the Phillies organization just put in a bid for you. Not trying to add to the pressure, I just thought you’d like to know. They want to meet with you when you get back.” “I don’t think I will be available for that,” I responded calmly. Belton’s eyes began to water a little bit. “I know,” he said, fighting away tears. “I just thought you’d like to know. It’s been an absolute honor to coach you.” I nodded and gave him a quick hug. “I’m okay coach, I’m just tired.” “You sure you want to do this?” I quickly nodded my head, and the coach tipped his cap to me. As he walked down the dugout, he left his glove next to me. I did not have to say what was going on; Belton already knew. He had a saying he would always say to our pitching staff, “Pitch every inning like it is your last.” Those were the words inscribed on his glove. I was about to experience the ultimate personification of that quote.

As I walked out to the mound, everything was a blur. This was the moment to justify everything I had fought for in each inning I had pitched throughout my lifetime. I just wished that my father would have been there for it. No one had been more supportive than him.

I inhaled deeply to get that smell of the ball field into my lungs. I wish I could have trapped that scent in a bottle and kept it forever. This was my time to show everybody at that game (and watching on television) why I wore that captain’s patch on the sleeve of my jersey. It was so much more than a letter.

Wearing Coach Belton’s glove, I struck out the first two batters with the best sliders I had ever thrown. I was not looking at anyone watching the game, but I heard the reactions for each of the third strikes, and it was the loudest I had heard the crowd the entire tournament. One more out to go. One more out and I could feel satisfied knowing that I gave my all on that baseball field in Florida that night.

As the third batter approached the plate, I felt the spiders-crawling feeling up and down my arm again.

Over the course of the season, I had worked with one of our relief pitchers who pitched, “submarine” style. He is now in the major leagues and has been for three years. His name was Chad. I never knew how significant those practice sessions were going to become. I could no longer lift my arm over my head, but I could swing it under my body decently. It was time to break out the submarine style practice and put it to work.

I threw four submarine-style pitches that all looked great, and got the last hitter to strike out looking. My whole dugout erupted excitedly when I threw that last pitch. I could not hear anything. All I could feel was my arm tingle and then go completely numb. If there was any doubt in my mind that this was the end, it disappeared as soon as I threw that last pitch.

As I returned to the dugout, Coach Moreno came over to me. “Nice angle switch. I’m putting Chad in to close, and now because of your creativeness, they got used to the sub delivery. Anyway, you have a meeting with the Phillies when we get back. Thank me later.” I nodded my head and continued into the end of the dugout. My phone had a message from my father that read, “Always proud of you son. Love you too.”

Belton gave me a high five and handed me a tin of Skoal chewing tobacco. I threw in a pinch of tobacco and sat with him for the remainder of the game. We won. The whole team celebrated as I walked around giving left-handed high fives to my teammates. They had no idea that would be their captain’s last sail with his hands on the wheel. As long as the ship was not sinking, I was happy. I was not abandoning the boat; I was just going to b enjoying the ride as a passenger for the first time in a long time.

We ended up losing in the finals, but it was still a great accomplishment to come in second at the Tropicana tournament. I ended up going out with the team the night we lost the finals- thanks to the help of my best friend, ibuprofen.

We got on the plane and had a relaxing, safe flight and bus ride back to campus. As we reached our destination, Coach Moreno pulled me aside. “So if I’m hearing correctly, you’re too hurt to pitch?” “Yes, sir.” It felt amazing to honest about my arm aliment for the first time in my career. Moreno took a breath and said, “Okay, no problem. Listen, you can’t keep your scholarship since you can’t play, so you’ll have to pay the full tuition if you decide to finish your academic path at this college. Also, you’re going to have to pack your things and be out of the apartment we provided for you by tomorrow. Coach Jason already picked up the car we provided for you, too. I hope you understand.” I took a minute to process everything the coach had just said. I stayed calm and asked, “So that’s it?” “Yeah, Josh. That’s it.” Coach Moreno extended his hand for a handshake, and I decided to do the honorable thing and extended mine as well. Only this time I used my right hand.

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