#the first one gave me too much feels so imma go a bit mild | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rainywritingsx · 4 years

Text

Scenario: Satan & Lucifer cheating on MC

Request: Your beezlebub and asmo cheating angst was so good oml if it's okay with you can I request the same but with satan and lucifer??

Satan and Lucifer…. My heart is about to be crushed and I hope yours too :). I thought I went overboard with Staan when I wrote his part, but Lucifer too,,,,, damn,,,, hope you enjoy? I didn’t really proofread sorry, it’s like 2Am right now and imma sleeeepppp. Hope you like it, remember to leave a like, reblog or comment if you do ^^ I’d love to read feedback!

xxx Rainbow

Warnings: Mild swearing and slight nsfw suggestion at Lucifer’s part??

3032 words

If you enjoy what I write, feel free to tip me by buying me a coffee here! ^^

Satan

On one hand, Y/n should’ve seen it coming. It was not an everyday thing that Satan just randomly made friends, nor was he the type to just go out to clubs and see people. But one of his teachers had asked him to help some demon with the homework they’ve had for the past few weeks. Apparently she had been struggling with literature a lot and since Satan was basically a bookworm, it was only natural that he would be chosen to help out.

At first Y/n wasn’t worried at all. They trusted Satan almost blindly and knew him well. He wouldn’t just mess around with someone. He still kept seeing them regularly and they hung out as often as always.

It was when they started seeing Satan less often that Y/n began to grow slightly concerned. They didn’t have as many dates as before anymore, and sometimes when they would go to his room he wouldn’t even be there. The brothers would tell them that he was tutoring that demon again. Here they felt an uneasy feeling in their stomach. Satan would usually tell them if he went somewhere because he knew Y/n often visited him in his room. But still, Y/n didn’t want to discuss it with him because they didn’t want to cause an unnecessary argument. Satan wouldn’t cheat on them.

Right?

However, when even during lunch at RAD Satan didn’t visit Y/n, their discomfort grew. This was really unusual. Was he having lunch with that demon? Were they talking so much that he completely forgot about them? Was he not interested in Y/n anymore? No, that couldn’t be true. If that were the case Satan would tell them, he would never cheat. Maybe he wasn’t even with that demon, maybe he was with one of the brothers! Or maybe Simeon and Luke, or Solomon… Maybe he had to ask Diavolo something?

Y/n bit their lip as they thought about what to do. Maybe they should look for them, just so that this uneasy feeling could finally go away and they could see with their own eyes absolutely nothing was wrong. Now…. The first place where Y/n should look was the library, right? It was open at lunch time too, so he could be there, maybe reading a new book that he found.

So, Y/n finally got up, put their lunch back in their bag to eat later and made their way to the library. Each step closer made their heart pound louder and louder. It was only when Y/n finally got there and wanted to open the door that they realised their hands were shaking and sweaty. So, before entering they took a deep breath to calm themselves down.

“Come on, Y/n. It’s no big deal. Everything is completely fine.” They softly said to themselves, hoping that this tiny pep talk would calm down the raging adrenaline going through their body. When they felt like they were ready, Y/n finally opened the door slowly. The only people that she saw in clear sight were a few demons studying and Solomon, who seemed to be reading through a book about spells. So Satan wasn’t here? That was odd…

Y/n was about to leave when they heard a female laugh along with a male chuckle that was way too familiar to them. They stopped breathing for a second and looked around the room, finally seeing their boyfriend, laughing with someone else who was way too close for their liking, resting her hand on his arm. There were a few open books, but Y/n could tell the two were not concentrated at all, and before they could even call out Satan’s name, they witnessed the girl pulling him closer and pressing their lips against his.

“S-Satan?!” Y/n said in surprise. It seemed that there was no person of authority present right now, as nobody commented on their voice. Still, other people heard them. Satan turned his head and as soon as he saw his actual partner, the one he was supposed to be affectionate with, his breath hitched in his throat. Without even waiting for him to say anything, Y/n left the library. Satan immediately stood up and left too, ignoring the girl completely.

He had no idea where they went, but he could only assume it was probably outside, where it was quiet. So he did the first thing that came to mind which was running to the garden of the school to find them.

Satan’s mind was foggy. It was only when he saw the heart wrenching look on his partner’s face that he realised what he had been doing. And Y/n never said a word about it because they trusted him. Instead of appreciating that and showing that he is worthy of their faith in him, he messed around with her heart and put himself into this incredibly awful situation. Why? Why didn’t he stop her, why did he continue hanging out when he knew damn well that her intentions were beyond him tutoring her?

He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard quiet, muffled sobs. Part of Satan wanted to run away, because he couldn’t believe he would ever hurt the person he loved and hearing them like this already tore him apart, but he had to own up to his mistake, so he kept walking. What he didn’t expect however, was that they weren't’t alone. Solomon sat next to Y/n on a bench and just hugged her without saying a word. When he saw Satan, his expression hardened. He didn’t say anything as a sign for Satan to start talking.

“Y/n, my love…” the sobs stopped. Y/n looked at Satan with an unreadable expression on their face. They were deep in thought. Should they talk to him? Or leave and talk it out later? No, this had to be done now. Y/n was done being toyed with like this.

“Solomon,” Y/n said, their voice shaky. “C-could you leave me and Satan alone, please?” he gave them a kind smile and nodded before leaving, shortly glaring at him without Y/n noticing. When he left, Satan carefully sat down next to Y/n and spoke up.

“My dear-”

“Quit the petnames, Satan.” Y/n shot at him, their voice now sharp and angry. His eyes slightly widened at the change of tone, but he couldn’t blame them. And he had the feeling that this wasn’t going to end the way he wanted to.

“I trusted you. I kept telling myself you weren’t messing around with her because I believed you would never do that to me! I wanted to believe that you were only tutoring her, I wanted to believe that so badly!”

“Kitte-Y/n, please believe me, the only time we did anything physical was what you just saw. I never-”

“That’s one time too many Satan! It should’ve never happened! Even if it wasn’t always physical, the fact that you started hanging out with her more than me at one point, broke my heart. Do you think that that doesn’t hurt because I didn’t see you two making out? How would you react if I suddenly became friendly with someone and started ditching you completely for them?” To that, Satan had no reply. He knew they were right.

“I’m done, I don’t want to talk about this.” Y/n said and stood up. “I hope you two had a nice time together, because you can spend all of your days with her now that we are over.”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry, please let me make it up to you. I promise I won’t talk to her again, I’ll prove to you that you can trust me.” Y/n chuckled softly as they shook their head.

“Satan, you don’t know what they tell us about demons in the Human world?” y/n sighed.

“They do nothing but lie and make empty promises.”

Lucifer

Of course, he was just an assistant. Diavolo had hired him to help Lucifer, nothing more. Really, at first Y/n even believed that Diavolo was an angel - how ironic, for finally finding someone who could help their boyfriend with the ton of work he always had to do. This way They could spend more time with their boyfriend, right?

Nope.

It was still a lot of work that still took Lucifer a lot of time, he was just less stressed because of it now. But still, the amount of time the two got to spend together wasn’t more than before, which made Y/n a little sad, but they didn’t want to start an argument, so they decided to not mention it.

After a little while, things slowly started to change though. It seemed that Lucifer actually had to work more now, to the point where he was overworking even. It made them worried about him but whenever they’d mention it, Lucifer would just brush it off. And again, because Y/n didn’t want to start an unnecessary argument, they kept quiet about this as well.

However, when Y/n heard Asmodeus talking during breakfast at the house of Lamentation, they got worried. He was talking about Lucifer.

“He really seems to get close to that assistant of his. Oh my, I dare even say that new guy has taken an interest in him!~” Asmodeus giggled. Y/n’s expression fell, which didn’t go unnoticed by the other brothers.

“Y/n, you know how Asmo is,” Satan reassured them. “he’s just exaggerating, don’t sweat it. Despite the fact that I cannot stand him, I know Lucifer wouldn’t do something like that.” Though Y/n’s worries hadn’t completely disappeared, they did feel a little better because of their friend’s words.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, Satan.” Y/n said and smiled at Satan, who nodded and sent a kind smile back. Of course Satan wasn’t completely wrong, but Y/n was still scared that for some reason things were going to take an unexpected turn. And people often said to trust your gut right? No, Lucifer wouldn’t do that…

During the days that followed, Y/n was constantly having an inner debate on whether or not to voice their concerns to their lover. On one hand, it could turn out to be nothing and Y/n would immediately be reassured that everything was completely fine. On the other hand however, maybe this would only stress out Lucifer. If that happened, Diavolo’s attempt of lessening the stress of Lucifer would be for nothing, so perhaps staying quiet was the better option.

“You can always visit him if you’re that worried.” Belphegor said after he listened to Y/n’s rambling about her concerns. “The worst thing that can happen is that Lucifer gets annoyed and sends you back, but knowing him and his weakness for you, that’s unlikely.” It was a good suggestion… But then again, was it really necessary?

“If you’re worried about being too obvious, just bring him a meal or something.” Oh, that was a good idea! Y/n was on cooking duty today anyway, and he never turned down their meals.

Keeping something for Lucifer, so, making sure Beel didn’t eat it was a whole task, but Y/n managed to do it successfully. With a small smile they packed his dinner in a lunch box along with something to drink. After they were done, Y/n left the kitchen and let the others know that they were leaving. Within a second Mammon was in the hallway, wanting to come along.

“Hey, I don’t want ya to get eaten by a demon or somethin’, okay? It’s dangerous for a weak little human to be here out alone.” He said, looking away to hide the small blush that was forming on his cheek. “Lucifer would kill me if somethin’ happened to you, so that’s why I’m here.” he mumbled, causing Y/n to giggle.

“Alright, let’s go then.” They said before the two them left together. Luckily the walk wasn’t too far, and the fact that Y/n wasn’t on their own was probably one of the reasons that it was peaceful too.

When they finally arrived at RAD, Mammon and Y/n were greeted by Diavolo, who seemed more than happy to see them.

“Y/n! Mammon! What brings you two here?” he asked curiously, before noticing the box in Y/n’s hands. A small smile was on his face and he looked back at the human. “Nevermind, I see. Lucifer is in his office.” Y/n nodded, thanking Diavolo before leaving on their own. Mammon decided to wait, wanting to give the two some alone time.

As Y/n got closer to their boyfriend’s office, a feeling of discomfort came over them for a moment. No, this was so silly, they just had to go, give this to him and then leave.

When they got to his office, Y/n knocked on the door softly, but they received no reply. Strange… Didn’t Diavolo say he was supposed to be here? Y/n decided to knock again, just in case he hadn’t heard it and oftly called out his name too, but to no avail. Y/n bit their lip softly. Maybe he was really busy. But then again, a tiny break wouldn’t hurt anyone, Diavolo didn’t tell Y/n to hurry up or something. So finally, Y/n decided to just open the door.

But now they really wish they hadn’t done that. Indeed, Lucifer was here. But on his lap was whom Y/n assumed to be his assistant, both half naked as they were making out. In shock, Y/n dropped everything they were holding which caused the two to stop and look. Lucifer’s eyes became the size of dinner plates when he realised who was standing there. The other male could probably tell who this human was, and was flustered as well.

“Fuck you, Lucifer.” Was all Y/n could say before they left. Y/n was almost running, wanting to do nothing but go to their room and cry. When Mammon spotted them coming in his direction, he was confused to say the least. That was quick? But soon his confusion grew into concern when he saw the tears rolling down their cheeks.

“What happened?” Was all he managed to ask. Y/n shook their head and looked at him.

“Can we just go back? Please, Mammon?” Their voice was soft and wavering, as if they could burst into tears at any moment. Without even thinking he nodded. On their way, both were silent. Y/n couldn’t stop replaying what just happened. Why did he do that? For how long has this been going on? Had they been like that before, or even more intimate? Why didn’t he just break up with them if he was interested in somebody else?

When they got home, Y/n ran to their room without saying a word to anyone. Right when Mammon was about to close the door, Lucifer’s hand pushed it open, surprising the younger brother. He was panting because he had been running and his face looked distraught, but really Mammon wanted to do nothing but punch him. However, he knew that was a bad idea so he kept silent.

Lucifer immediately ran to Y/n’s room, knowing that that would be where they’d go. As he got closer, he felt a sense of guilt, which as the Avatar of Pride, he absolutely despised. How could he have done something so horrible to the love of his life? He decided not to knock, but slowly opened the door of Y/n’s room, and when he saw them laying on their bed crying into a pillow, he only felt more remorse.

“Y/n..” he began. “I-I’m-”

“Get out.” Y/n said, their voice low as they lifted their head up to look at him. Lucifer was surprised at this attitude since Y/n never acted like this, but he knew he deserved it. However, he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t lose them.

“Dear, if you would just listen-”

“Lucifer, I said get out!” Y/n repeated, their voice louder this time as they stood up. “You have no right to just come into my room and do the talking now after you betrayed me! Here I was thinking you were overworking, but you were just fucking someone else!” For the first time in his life, Lucifer was speechless. He had no excuse for this. Nothing made this okay.

“I see you don’t have anything to say either. I have one question, Lucifer: Do you love him, or me?” They asked, their voice a lot softer now. Normally Lucifer was able to answer this within a heartbeat, but his mind was all over the place. Why was he even kissing that demon like that?

“I see…” Y/n said with a defeated smile. “I expected this. Now, can you just go?” Their eyes were practically begging him to leave, their voice thick and laced with hurt. And Lucifer knew that this was the best option for the both of them. He truly hoped that they would be able to solve this. He didn’t say a word as he turned around to leave the room.

“And I know what you’re thinking right now.” Lucifer stopped in his tracks. “And no, I don’t want to give you another change. I’m so done with you, Lucifer.” They said, their voice becoming rougher again. The demon tried keeping his head up, not wanting to give in where anyone could see and left, closing the door behind him. When he finally got to his own room, Lucifer’s tears started spilling too. He made a huge mistake, and he just knew he had lost them, he really had. And this reminded him exactly why he deserved to be here, in Hell, where he had to pay for his horrible actions. He swore to himself to never hurt them, yet he just crumbled their heart like it was nothing. He was a monster.

#obey me x reader #satan x reader #lucifer x reader #satan x mc #lucifer x mc #obey me x mc #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me scenarios #obey me shall we date

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drabbles-blurbs-words · 4 years

Text

Hold (Bakugou x femReader)

This is for my lovely lovely @bratwritings thanks for all the love and kindness! You have been a great friend and I enjoy our chatter and Bakugou talks.

I hope you enjoy this little drabble that got out of hand and is now a one-shot I guess.

@lady-bakuhoe, @bakugou-katsukisgf, and @jojosmilktea, I know you are bakugou stans so imma tag you in this :)

Warning: there’s cussing and some very mild violence.

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Uraraka wiggled her brows at you while Mina gave you a mischievous smile. Your face burned red as you tried to look away from the two girls. You wondered quietly what had gotten you in this situation… Oh right, wondering got you here. Your head was in the clouds lately, the scent of burnt sugar and the image of beautiful explosions the only thing that you could concentrate on. So, that left you here. Becoming the partner of the resident hot head. Apparently, no one else wanted to partner with him.

You pushed down the summersaults your belly was doing and turned towards the boy. He stood beside you; a bit too close for comfort. His crimson gaze met yours and a small frown pulled at his lips. You knew it was silly to fall for him, his demeanor was rough and callus. His temper ran hot like his explosions. And yet you couldn’t help it. His determination and prowess always shone through in times of trouble. His ability to actively protect and take down villains was something you both admired and envied. You looked at your hands and wondered if you’d ever be able to protect someone the way he did.

“Hey! Space cadet! Get a move on, will you!?” You nodded quickly as you noticed he had begun to walk away.

You looked at him as he trudged through the disaster area. Broken buildings and debris were scattered everywhere. You looked around carefully, wondering what you were supposed to be doing. You didn’t notice a pair of sharp eyes studying you.

It’s true that Bakugou’s only focus in life had been being the best at everything. He wanted to be the best hero, the best in training, and then the best at school. It was all he was focused on. Until you that is. Unbeknownst to you the boy had kept an eye on you ever since the USJ. When the Nomu had gone for him, he had heard your voice in the back of his head. Calling for him desperately. He saw the shimmer of light bending in front of him and hardening into what looked like glass. Even when All Might had pushed him away to safety, you had held on. Taking the hit for the hero and giving him a chance to recuperate and counter. Your limbs had trembled under the pressure. But your cracked barrier held. He saw when the blood began to trickle down your nose and one of your ears. He heard when Deku and Shitty hair begged you to stop. But you stood strong, you only let go when All Might leaped toward the villain. And then you fell.

After the incident he found his mind plagued by you. He wondered how strong you were, how much potential you had… and soon he began to wonder how your laughter sounded. How you would react to his stupid outbursts, if you would mind his sweaty hands. The thoughts that haunted him annoyed the boy to no end. And once his self-proclaimed friends had figured it out, he had no peace. The teasing was almost unbearable. Their wild claims of him being soft for you were ludicrous, and he would rather chew glass than admit that he would get caught staring at you. In fact, he would rather die than admit that his small like had grown into full blown disgusting love. He shouldn’t have picked you as a partner; the lovesick feeling in his chest would make him weak. He looked back at your soft cheeks and grimaced. You were lost in your own little world. Hair falling lazily around your face and an absentminded look in your eye. He cursed himself a thousand times when he felt his heart try to beat itself out of his chest. He was getting too soft.

“Hey… what are we supposed to do?” You asked gently as you watched the buildings around you.

“Tch. You didn’t pay attention, did you, dumbass?” you forced yourself to look away in embarrassment, unable to admit you were daydreaming again.

He hid his blush behind a scowl as he snuck a peak at you. Your pink lips were pulled into a pout and he wondered how they would feel against his. It should be illegal for you to be that fucking cute. He observed you carefully as you fidgeted with your hands. He missed the fire in your eyes. The look you got when you protected him, and All Might from the monster. The look you got when you stood up for your friends or faced someone down in the sports festival. He wanted to see the fire in your eyes there all the time. He pushed his pride down and decided for once to actually do the damn exercise.

“We’re supposed to be partners, we’re going against Raccoon eyes and Icy-hot.” He grunted and started untying a bandanna from his belt. “We have to defend this for 15 minutes, so you should have it.” He grit his teeth as he swallowed his desire for the spotlight.

“Oh…” you looked at the thing like it was something alien.

“Take it, dumbass.”

“I think you should have it though…” He raised a brow at you, and you looked away, “You’re faster, and stronger. I can just put up walls… So, it would be better if you had it.” You shrugged.

“You're ridiculous, you make domes too… and I bet you can do more if you stop being stupid.” he scowled deeply at you and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “If you make a dome around yourself, I’ll protect it.”

“But 15 minutes is a lot and I don’t know if I can hol-“

“Stop that!” He growled. “I saw you take a hit from that stupid Nomu. And even if you can’t hold, no one is going to get through me. Got it! I’ll protect you.”

He was almost snarling at you by the end, as he shoved the bandanna into your chest. Despite the roughness from his tone you couldn’t help but feel the warmth that flooded you. You slowly nodded as you felt his reassurance seep into your bones. He smirked as he saw the effect his words had on you. Bakugou felt himself warm at the idea of him giving you strength. You saw his gaze soften on you and felt yourself almost drown in it. You were about to take the bandanna when your instincts flared, and a large clear wall burst to life as you lifted your hand. Acid sizzled against your barrier as Bakugou took a step back. He watched as fire suddenly began to assault the wall, one look at your face made his stomach drop. You were grimacing. How much were your barriers connected to you, he wondered. He should have asked.

You felt something quickly loop itself around your arm and looked at the boy beside you. Determination on his face as he tied the stupid thing. You went to protest, to ask him to stop and run away. But he silenced you. He kissed the shoulder where he had tied the bandanna and gave you a feral grin that made your insides melt.

“Let’s do this!” He growled huskily.

You felt like your brain had short circuited. You didn’t feel when his arm went around you, nor did you react when he launched you back. You landed on your butt and watched as the feral boy stood tall in front of your barrier.

“Make yourself a bubble and drop the wall.” You immediately obeyed and saw him leap at the others.

You observed in awe as he fought Mina and Todoroki at the same time. He was using his explosions to dodge Mina’s acid and Todoroki’s Ice and fire attacks. He tried to get some blasts in but the most he could do was break some of Todoroki’s Ice before Mina was on him again and he had to dodge. You stayed in the bubble you had made, you watched as time passed and Bakugou began to slow. Worry began to eat at you as you saw Todoroki finally catch one of his legs in the ice. Mina smirked as she began making her way towards you and you faltered as Bakugou desperately began to try and blow the ice away. But Todoroki was smart and each time Bakugou would destroy his trap, Todoroki would remake it over his legs. Bakugou tried to blast the boy but he would just protect himself with more ice.

His eyes met yours and you felt your heart break. Guilt and worry laced his gaze, but you weren’t having that. You frowned at yourself and slowly stood. How pathetic could you be? He trusted you to keep the bandanna safe but was taking the brunt of everything. As if you were helpless. You weren’t someone to protect. You were the shield and he was the spear. You were the protector.

You dropped your dome as fast as you could and began running towards Bakugou. His eyes widened when he saw you take the offensive for the first time. You stretched out your hand and just as Mina’s acid was going to hit you, a small barrier shielded you from the girl’s attack. You dodged and shielded yourself as best you could until you felt your frustration begin to boil. You rolled away from another attack and watched Todoroki desperately light himself up. You needed to get to him.

Bakugou saw the moment the fire within you began to burn wildly. Your eyes were sharp as you dodged and shielded yourself from the pink girl. His eyes followed your movements carefully, but a crackling noise distracted him. Todoroki was about to blast him with fire, trying to knock him out. He cursed at himself as he decided he would have to blast himself out even if it meant hurting himself and possibly you. He grit his teeth and braced himself as he saw the red flames approach but found he didn’t need it. The flames dissipated right in front of him as they hit a barrier. You stood beside the blonde boy, a dome encircling both of you.

“Get yourself out.” You gasped out sharply as you held on to the walls you built.

Fire, ice, and acid tried to break down the dome. Cracks began to appear as Bakugou blasted the ice around his legs. He broke out of the trap and watched as you braced yourself for another hit. He snarled when he saw the pain on your face and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Let go of the barrier!” He shouted over the sound of the flames hitting your wall.

“No, you ass! Let me protect you!”

“The fuck?! Just do it, you idiot. Drop it! Trust me, dammit!” He snarled.

His blazing red eyes burned into your soul and you found yourself nodding slowly at him.

“On three….” He muttered and tightened his grip on you. “one… two…. THREE!”

A deafening explosion surrounded you as you felt yourself let go of your quirk. The wind whipped past your face as you flew across the training grounds. Panic settled in as you realized the boy had only one arm available which meant a very rough landing. You held your breath and closed your eyes, concentrating on your quirk and feeling it ripple over you and hopefully the boy. You began to build, for the first time, a complete bubble. Your head began to hurt, and you felt something cold drip from your nose as arms tightened around you and you felt yourself bounce. Your body rolled and your head felt light as slowly but surely the bubble you had created began to stop.

Bakugou felt dizzy, you both had been thrown around inside the bubble you had created as you both bounced and rolled to a stop. You must have looked like hamsters in a ball. Bakugou lifted himself a bit, feeling the weight of your body on him. He felt like shit and was sure he didn’t look any better. He was about to bark at you when he realized you were too still. He took your form into his arms and sat up. Your eyes were half lidded and dazed. Your barrier was cracked in so many places as it held you both safe and sound. He could see some blood begin to drip down your nose. He prayed that the time had finally run out, as he saw your arm and the bandanna still in place. But his prayers went unanswered. Todoroki and Mina were approaching, and you looked like hell. He couldn’t let you take more hits, he needed to protect you.

“Hey, dumbass. Drop the barrier!” You felt his arms tighten around you.

You shook your head slowly and gave him a small smile, you took one of his explosive hands and pressed it to your cheek deliriously. You placed a sloppy kiss in the palm of his glove. He felt himself become hot as he met your tired eyes, a thousand unspoken emotions gazed back at him.

“I’ll hold…” You barely whispered as you wobbly sat up against the boy. “I can hold…”

You raised an arm over your head and the cracks slowly disappeared, as you reinforced what was left of the bubble you made. You didn’t notice the large hand lacing itself with yours. Spots had begun to dance around your vision as fire and acid tried to hit you two again. Arms held up your sagging body as unintelligible and desperate pleading met your ears. The familiarity of the voice spurred you further… although it did make your heart hurt a bit. But you held on, you held on until you felt yourself begin to fall further, and in the distance a buzzard finally rang. Relief flooded your tired body and you finally let go, trusting that the strong arms around you would protect you as you sank into the darkness.

You woke up to warmth and a familiar sweet scent enveloping you. Bleary eyes squinted against the brightness as you lifted yourself up. There was a weight on your lap and when you looked down you felt like you were about to die. The soreness in your body was quickly forgotten as you saw who laid in your lap. Bakugou sat on a chair beside the bed and was resting on your thighs. You felt your breath catch at the peaceful expression he wore. Before you could think it through, you threaded your fingers into his hair and relished the soft feeling. It was short lived though, his hand had grabbed your wrist and a hard glare was sent your way.

Bakugou felt himself burn in anger, feeling you collapse against him. Watching you get hurt for him, was excruciating. Even if he knew it was an exercise, even when he knew you’d be okay… It felt as if he had somehow lost you. For the first time in his life, it didn’t matter to him that you two had won. He felt like he failed to protect you. And as he held your unconscious and bloodied form in his arms, he realized that for once his annoying friends were right. Unfortunately for him, he isn’t good with words and the asshole in him had to make an appearance.

“What the hell do you think you were doing!” He burst from the chair and stood tall, fists shaking as his gaze scorched you.

“I was trying to protect-“

“Protect what! I don’t need YOU protecting ME, dammit!” You flinched at his volume. “I can protect myself! I can protect YOU! Fuck! Don’t you trust me?!”

You felt a fire ignite in you as you felt his anger and disdain grow towards you. The boy you had grown to love hated you and you couldn’t take it. You felt your heart shatter into pieces as you tried to explain yourself.

“Of course, I trust you! I just… I just…” and the damn broke, “I wanted to be useful too!!! I want to be strong too!!!” A ragged breath left you as you tried to form coherent sentences. “I can protect you, too. I MAKE SHIELDS FOR FUCKS SAKE!!! I CAN SAVE YOU TOO!” your vision had become blurry as tears threatened to fall. “I don’t need you saving me either, I’m not weak!” your shoulders drooped.

“I’m a hero too…” You whimpered.

You could see Bakugou’s glare intensify. His brows furrowed as you felt the tears begin to fall.

“Dammit…” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I know you aren’t weak, okay? I just…” You looked at him puzzled, as hot tears raced down your face.

“Fuck it.”

He scowled deeply as he roughly climbed into the small bed you were in. Confusion filled your brain to capacity, you tried to process what was happening but you could only concentrate on him. He was almost on top of you. His body an inch from crushing you.

His toned arms held you in a vice like grip as you both laid in the small infirmary bed. His arms constricted almost painfully around you as he pulled himself closer to you. Your arms slowly reciprocated, and soon you found yourself melting into his embrace and warmth. Nuzzling yourself into the crook of his neck as you breathed in his soothing scent. Smoke, spices, and something sweet but all him. Legs tangled together as you drowned in his heat and soon you were breathing softly again. Tears already forgotten on your cheeks. You felt Bakugou move and met his eyes. He looked anxious, scared even. And before you could ask what was troubling him, he broke your heart and mended it in one breath.

“I just… don’t want to see the person I love get hurt…” his voice was low and so unlike him.

A gasp left your lips as you pulled him impossibly closer and tangled your hands in his hair. You turned your head to kiss his cheek and felt him exhale in relief. A massive weight had been lifted from his heart. You tangled yourself further into his embrace and kissed the side of his head. You leaned closer and whispered in his ear.

“I don’t want you hurt either… I… want to protect the person I love too.”

Strong arms tightened around you, and for once you weren’t the one holding on.

352 notes · View notes

oftenderweapons · 4 years

Text

Stress Reliever - Namjoon

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

Wordcount: 3.9k words

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Rating: 18+

Hello! As I mentioned in a previous post, I’ll be publishing longer scenarios which could actually be considered small one-shots. The first theme will be stress-relieving/angry sex (’cause let’s admit it, that’s one great way to blow off some steam and ease some tension)

I’ll be following the official order, so I’ll start with Namu uwu.

I don’t really think I need to say this is smut, and filth and an unedited mess. Let’s just move on to trigger warnings.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: swearing; unprotected sex within an established relationship (wrap it before you tap it, and please get checked for STIs regularly) lingerie kink, DADDY kink (like, how could I not) plus Joon is fucking packed and we all fucking know it, dirty language, allusions to cheating (but like, not really, how could one possibly cheat on daddy big dick Joon? Ha, not me), spanking, ddlg/bdsm dynamics, brat!reader, oral (female receiving, mentions of male receiving), peaches and cream (don’t look at me like that, how could I NOT do this) marking, biting, overstimulation and ruined orgasm (listen, daddy makes the rules, it’s not my fault, next time be less of a brat), cumplay, mild angst (lack of attention, abandonement issues). RIP to y/n’s deceased La Perla set. I suppose this is all? This is quite pwp, but not really. About 3900 words.

Also, here you can find my masterlist. Enjoy!

Your day had been phenomenal, your boss had complimented you and assigned you a new office as you joined your new team. You had celebrated going out for lunch with your new colleagues, getting to understand the dynamics and roles within the groups. Since you were given a free afternoon to receive a general briefing and celebrate your promotion you went off work earlier than usual, deciding to get yourself a nice new dress and some celebratory lingerie, all Italian lace and silken bows.

But your mood was sour. Namjoon didn't even bother reading your text, ignoring you all day, which normally would not bother you, but considering how hard you had been working for that promotion and how tired you were, but most importantly considering he knew how much it mattered to you, it really upset you. And you were meaning to make him pay for it.

As you arrived at home you started getting ready, you bathed and did a face mask, hair all pretty and soft, fixed your nails. You felt gorgeous. Gorgeous and furious. Which was normally a very entertaining combination when you added Namjoon, who was currently absent without justification. He should have arrived home twenty minutes ago.

When he finally came through the front door, you were lounging annoyed on the sofa.

"Hi."

You did not answer. And he didn't even notice, nor look at you.

He went straight to the bedroom, got rid of his clothes and wore something comfy, going straight to the kitchen.

"No dinner?" He asked.

"I'm going out." He looked up to where you were sitting, a little baffled.

"And no dinner?"

"I called at the Garden, booked a table for two at nine. You could get ready in fifteen. It's on me."

His forehead creased. "I'm a bit tired."

You raised a brow. "I'm going out anyway."

He huffed out. "Okay. Let me wear something decent."

Five minutes later he headed out, in jeans and a white shirt. He looked completely insane, the sleeves slightly rolled up, his hair pushed back. "Am I okay?"

"You look divine." You were too turned on to deny him a compliment. "I'm sorry I made you dress up. I really wanna destress."

His half tired look in his eyes had disappeared, probably thank to the brief shower he had taken. "It's good, baby."

You headed to the restaurant, his hand perched on your knee during the drive, his head heavy on your shoulder. He still hadn't mentioned your promotion.

A nice waiter welcomed the two of you, he must have been new, considering you had never seen him before and you and Joon were pretty much two regulars there.

He accompanied the two of you to the table, your hand reaching for your man, while he looked absolutely lost, completely disconnected from you. Even at the table you tried to spark a conversation but he was entirely unresponsive, only mentioning that he had been working on his new collaboration and he had been late because he had to meet the singer. The fact that it was a woman low-key triggered you. It's not like you were jealous, or maybe you were, but jealousy was a feeling you had felt before and you had always had the self control not to act upon it. However, mixing that mild jealousy with the disappointment of him not acknowledging your promotion and your special effort for your looks, together with his detached demeanour had you starting something you never thought you would have the guts to do.

You started being excessively polite -- borderline saccharine -- to the cute waiter, asking for his name and behaving in an almost too friendly way, offering him nice smiles and sugary 'thank you's.

Not that Namjoon seemed to notice.

You were getting half an idea to gently grab the waiter's wrist and write your phone number on his forearm just to see what your boyfriend would do.

By the time you finished your main course and got ready to close your meal with dessert, you were so upset you gave up on your usual tiramisu, telling Geonwu -- the waiter -- to hand you the bill. Namjoon seemed to get out of his bubble for a second, as you turned down the dessert, suddenly triggered by your strange change of habit. He must have really upset you, he thought as you gave the waiter your card and waited for the payment to be processed.

A few minutes later you entered your apartment, kicking your shoes and heading for the bedroom. You hoped he would trip over your discarded shoes. Damn him.

In front of the mirror in your ensuite, you started taking off your makeup, slowly undoing your hair. You hated him.

He reached the bedroom too, standing in the door between your room and the bathroom, looking at you through the mirror.

"I know what you were trying to do at dinner." He crossed his arms. "I don't like it at all."

"I wouldn't have done it if you had payed attention to me." You took off your earrings and your watch. The necklace he had given you for your first anniversary. "But you were… Busy."

"So you wanted me to pay attention." He came up behind you, pressing himself against your backside. "Sorry thing I already knew you would land that promotion." He kissed your neck, slowly starting to unbutton the mother pearl buttons on your silk camisole. "So I thought I could keep you on edge and make you snap at me, make you so angry you would finally take all that tension off on me."

You held your breath as he nibbled at your neck. "And I know you were trying to rile me up and make me jealous just to get me to fuck you like crazy, uh?"

He finished with the buttons and untucked your shirt, discovering the black lace corset underneath.

"Was this part of the plan, little vixen?" He toyed with the strings of the undergarment, his sex now hard against your back.

You nodded eagerly.

"Then bend the fuck over cause Imma teach you a lesson." He lifted up your pencil skirt. "These are new, aren't they?" He said teasing the fabric.

"Yes, daddy. I bought them for you." You just wanted him to snap, hoping that your submission would spark up his dominance.

You saw a shiver ran down his spine. "So kind, but you didn't bend over yet. And this won't save you from your punishment." He said, pressing a heavy hand between your wing blades and pushing you down. "You know daddy likes giving you attention, so why didn't you ask?"

"I didn't want to bother you, daddy." You already felt a whine in your voice, a petulant, bratty tone emerging.

“I still don't get whether I should treat you like the brat you are or like the good girl you’re desperately trying to be.” Suddenly you felt the heavy smack of him delivering the first hit. You moaned out in relief and arousal. “You better keep quiet. You kept quiet while you should have told me you wanted me, so now that you wanna talk you’d better keep it down, brat.” he delivered another spank, making his point clear. “Understood?”

“Yes, daddy.” You lifted your head, your eyes rolling up from under your lashes.

He licked his lips and used his spare hand to hold your chin up high, so to maintain eye-contact. “Good girl.” He caressed your bum delicately. “Shall we say that you received your promotion at nine a.m., and now it's almost midnight. That makes it fifteen hours of you keeping it from me. Considering that you’re always so eager when I spank you I won’t include the first two blows I already gave you. Now hold tight because dirty girls like you don’t learn their lessons from soft punishments.”

By the thirteenth blow you were gripping the sink, knuckles white, face blushed with effort, a coat of arousal and sweat slickening your thighs. Namjoon’s tempo had slightly slowed down in order to softly brush your sensitive skin between a spank and another. “Come on, two more, ____. Enjoy them.”

He hit you with full force. Considering that you’d got used to the pain, your tolerance adjusting to his attack, he must have really put some fury in the last two.

Now finally done with your punishment, he moved you slightly to the side, so to use the sink to cool down his palms. “Next time I should use a paddle. No use hurting my hands for punishing a spoiled brat.” Some part of you already felt a dark craving, moaning at the thought. He snickered at how hungry you always were for him.

He passed the cool skin of his hands on your glutes, offering you a small reprieve, taking care of you without giving any explicit sign of your punishment being over. You knew it wasn’t, and it didn’t surprise you when he hooked his fingers in your panties and dragged them down your legs, kneeling to unhook them from your feet. “Those don’t deserve to be ripped.” Now at perfect eye level with your slit, he couldn’t help but give in to the smell and taste of you, licking up your soaked thighs, nuzzling his lips against your sex, delivering one sweet kiss. “Can you take it like a girl good and make daddy happy or do you wanna slow down?”

He probably knew how exhausted your muscles must have been from the position you were into. However, you wanted it your way. “Make daddy happy.” You murmured.

He smiled like a madman, still between your thighs, biting one of the few spots that weren’t bright red on your behind. He raised to his feet, towering over your bent shape, his nimble finger undoing his belt and jeans, gripping his hard on and using the tip to tease your entrance. “Baby, you got me so hard, watching you take your spanks so well, your ass so soft, quivering like jelly. You should see yourself right now, baby. Looking like a wet dream.”

He caressed down your shoulders, using his free hand to hold your waist. You knew he wouldn’t bend down to kiss you, that would be so out of character. And considering he hadn’t stretched you out, you also knew it would hurt.

“Ready?”

You nodded. “Yes, daddy.” He offered you his hand in your own and you gripped it hard as he slowly sinked in. It took him half a minute to bottom out. A deep groan followed. “So good, babe.”

You released a heavy breath, squeezing you inner muscles lightly. “Woah baby, fuck.” He swore viciously, carefully beginning to roll his hips, both his hands on your waist, one of yours joining there, reaching for his fingers, craving for a small sign of affection while he was being careful not to hurt the bruises already forming on you ass. His thrusts were slow and deliberate, looking for the smallest sign of discomfort on your face and posture. Once adjusted, you arched further, allowing him a shift in angle that had him hissing and throwing his head back. His beautiful, dark hair followed, catching your attention in the mirror. His chest, still covered in the shirt, inflated, straining the buttons on his sternum. You would have done anything in that moment to kiss the small triangle of skin appearing at the base of his neck.

Now newly focused, his eyes opened and fixed on you, while one of his hands moved to your breast, still covered in the corset, toying with your nipple, then gripping the flesh with his big palm.

“Joonie,” you dared murmur as his pace intensified.

“You good baby?” He slowed down again, in fear he was hurting you.

“So good, Joonie, I just—” You shut up a second, needing to focus before you continued your sentence. “I wanna cum, daddy.”

“It’s okay baby, let me take you there.” He made you turn your face and caressed your cheek tenderly, using his other hand to reach between your thighs, drawing taunting, tight circles on your clit, with just the right pace and pressure. God only knew how he did that.

“Keep squeezing me baby, so close.” He gripped the back of your neck for leverage and his thrusts got stronger and faster, you completely losing it over the way his hips stayed closer to yours and pushed harder, pulling out just an inch before plunging in again.

Your orgasm washed over you with sweet relief and you were sure it would have gone on for a bit less than a minute hadn’t Joon pulled out of you, his hand still toying with your clit, his vicious fingers way too skilled not to know how much he was affecting you -- and how wrong it all felt. “Joon, inside!” You cried out, barely coherent, only now noticing in the reflection that his arm was moving aggressively, his lower lip caught between his teeth before it slipped out, his jaw angrily clenching in a way that made you want to turn around and suck him into oblivion.

“This ass still needs something.” He spat out through gritted teeth.

Your mouth opened in wonder as you felt him press his tip to your skin, his hot flesh turning even hotter when he groaned out almost desperately, one hand still on his shaft, milking out his cum.

“Do you like that, daddy?” You teased, wanting nothing but his fucked out babbling to praise you.

“Love it, vixen, you nasty little fucker. I’ll put a damn ring on your dirty finger someday.” He muttered, his high almost over, the hand on your mound parting your labia before he slipped in sloppily, some drops of his orgasm ending inside you, while the rest made a sticky mess between the two of you.

He crumbled forward, mouth at your neck, his spine arching up away from you as he kept pushing his hips against yours, chest deflating with heavy breaths. One of your hands removed the fingers still massaging your sex into overstimulation. You were both a sweaty bundle of limbs, exhausted and brainless.

“I’m so in love with you, ____.” He whispered in your ear. “My perfect baby.” The hand under you slipped to your chest, helping you handle the weight of your upper body. “Can you wait like this a couple seconds? I need to clean you up before we make a mess.”

You nodded sleepily while he stretched towards the closest towel, wetting the cloth under the tap and placing it against your skin as he slipped out. The arm under you helped you rise up, his mouth immediately kissing your cheek.

“Did I go too hard?” He asked, his free hand touching you in tenderness and devotion, stroking your heated skin. He used a clean corner of the towel to swipe the dirty spots on your behind, then cleaning himself roughly.

“It was amazing.” Your head propped on his shoulder, your neck stressed because of your previous position.

“Let me take you to the bathtub and ease out the knots on your muscles, yes?” He discarded the cloth and turned you around, kissing you softly and fondly. “I’m so proud of you.” He kissed you again. “You’re amazing.” He pressed his mouth to your forehead, “and now I wanna take care of you.”

He took off your corset with care, knowing how sensitive you were, but also how tired your body was, incapable of handling any violent push and pull to undo the garment.

“Tell me you didn’t ruin it.” You said, voice imploring.

“No. I was careful. I still regret ruining that La Perla I got you for your birthday. The colour looked so good on you.” He blushed, completely oblivious that two minutes ago he had been an unbelievably sexy, self-confident man spanking you and ruining your orgasm without the smallest hesitation.

“I feel so spoiled, I took a bath this afternoon.” You murmured, thinking of all the wasted water.

“Would you prefer a shower?” He asked, already closing the tap.

You nodded. Your muscles were sore but your conscience was still awake.

Opening the enormous shower he loved so much, he helped you sit down on the wide seat on the wall, flinching as the cold marble made contact with your bruising skin.

Namjoon looked at you with wide eyes, feeling sorry for the pain you were feeling because of his selfishness.

“Can I make it better?” He asked, caressing your face gently before pushing your hair back. His concerned tone made your insides melt.

“I think that having a proper orgasm with your tongue between my legs would help.”

“You’re a spoiled brat. Never gonna learn.” He tried sounding angry, but the smile on his face told you otherwise. “You’re lucky I love you.”

You opened your legs wide as he kneeled before you. “You mentioned putting a ring on it, Joonie.” You teased, the inside joke between the two of you now sounding way too serious after he said it in that context, with that voice just an orgasm ago.

“Careful or I’ll wife you.” He kissed your inner thigh, biting playfully. “Fill you up with babies.” He bit the other side. “Have you barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.”

“Please do, kind sir.” You begged, laughter spilling from your mouth.

He positively laughed at that, his fit of giggles tickling your skin. You were overflowing with love for him.

“Sounds shady coming from a lady who was flirting with the waiter at dinner just tonight.” He started sucking at your skin, the tissue bruising easily after his harsh treatment. “Do you think I forgot?”

Here he was again: gone Joonie, welcome daddy. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed sarcastically against your other thigh, now just a couple centimetres away from your heat. “Do you think he could have done you like that?” His hand grasped your breast, squeezing it viciously. “Like I did tonight?”

“No, daddy.” Your mouth opened as he started rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Do you think he could discipline you?” He asked, his voice matching the love bite on the soft skin of your crotch where your thigh met your pelvis.

“Of course no, daddy.” You repeated, shifting delicately in your seat to accommodate his mouth.

“Good.” He perched your legs on his shoulders, then his tongue licked your labia forcefully, your flesh and his adhering perfectly, the bridge of his nose rubbing your clit deliciously.

The angle was difficult, and if it hadn’t been for the whole sink ordeal, you would have probably balanced yourself on your arms and used your hips to fuck his face midair, but from the way he was looking at you, you could tell Namjoon knew he couldn’t trust your body like that tonight, the risk of you slipping because of a lousy grip or tired muscles too high.

Much to your dismay, he parted his mouth from your cunt, meeting your gaze. You loved seeing how blissful he got when he was using his mouth between your legs, his brain too focused to think of anything else. It was his go-to stress reliever.

“Hold tight. Be careful.” He said with intention, as he moved an arm behind your back and brought you closer to his face, making you plant your feet on the ground as he laid down on the empty floor. With some attentive adjustments, following his lead, you ended up straddling his face, his head luckily away from the stream of water falling from the shower head.

“I need you to ride daddy’s face, little vixen. Show me how much you wanna belong to me.” He teased with a dark growl.

“That sounds so good daddy!” You squealed enthusiastically. “I’m going to make you so proud.” You promised, smiling at him before his mouth latched on you, his arms snaking around your waist and dragging you down.

“I’m so happy when you lick me, daddy.” You said, voice mischievous, while he enthusiastically picked up his pace.

“I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” His tongue lashed on your clit mercilessly as he kept pumping your most sensitive part with the muscles of his cheeks, hollowing them with the force of his movement.

“I’ll learn...” Your breath caught in your lungs. “I’ll be so good to you.”

His hands helped you balance yourself attentively, chasing your high, until you felt your eyes closing, the room spinning around you and your hips moving on their own command, your climax already possessing you.

“Daddy, please, that’s...” The breathiest moan exited your mouth, your arms collapsing, Namjoon’s hands on your hips the only thing keeping you from smashing face first against the tiles. He moved his head with wide sweeps upwards, accompanying you through your high. In the meantime you managed to readjust, your weight now again in control, you eased Namjoon’s arms, thinking of how tired he must be.

You lifted yourself up, sliding away from his face, down to his lap.

He was incredibly hard, once more, quite unusually. “Please, let me ride you, daddy.” You tried to persuade him. “I’ll do all the work.” You were literally batting your eyelashes at him.

He laughed breathlessly. “How can I tell you no, baby, when you sound so nice?”

“Can I?” You pouted.

“Yes, baby.” He groaned.

You were on him in two seconds, grabbing him, squeezing him gently in your palm -- at which he shut his eyes tight -- and holding his tip towards your entrance, sliding on it flawlessly.

“You feel amazing, ____.” He breathed from his spot on the floor, still in the same position as you’d left him after your mind-blowing climax.

You moaned out at the sound of your name, going already pretty fast to make sure that you both came as soon as possible. Namjoon’s hands led your vicious pace while your hand, already toying with your core, made sure that you could come to the edge of your third high within a few minutes. “Joonie, tell me you’re close.”

“Keep going, baby, almost there. Use your-- oh that!” His mouth opened, eyes scrunched. “There!”

You smirked naughtily as you worked him with your kegels, hips gyrating on him.

“Joonie, help.” You called out, noticing that his arms were going slack.

Exhaustion was getting to the both of you, but as he pushed up, chasing his sensations, you felt the change of angle and in a couple seconds you felt his hot cum fill your every crevice, your own orgasm mixing with his as your upper body collapsed, mouth searching for his neck. “Joonie.”

“Here.” His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as your legs started shaking and giving out. “I’ve got you, ____ baby.”

Your nose brushing against the side of his jaw, teeth scraping gently against the vein on his neck, you let your body be lulled by his breathing.

“Love, let’s finish this shower and head to bed, yes?” He caressed your hair back, lovingly.

You have little memory of what happened afterwards, except his weight beside you on the mattress, the lights switching off his heartbeat calling you to sleep.

#bangtan sonyeondan #kim namjoon #kim namjoon scenarios #kim namjoon one shot #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon smut #rm x reader #rm scenario #rm smut

117 notes · View notes

k1ngtok1 · 4 years

Text

“What child doesn’t wish to fly”

Hi hello yes if you know me, you know I love me some winged!Roman. Hope you like it! Please give me some feedback! Reblogs and likes are appreciated and cherished! The word count is 2,603

Tw: Knife mention, blood mention, remus being remus, mild cursing, pain,

Relationships: brotherly Creatitwins, platonic LAMP, prinxiety if you squint and put on glasses

Summary: Roman has wings. Let’s not shy around that. They were big, fluffy, brown angel wings, and they were awesome!

At least to him.

Roman sighed as he easily slipped on a hoodie that looked almost exactly like his tunic. It wasn’t a recording day, so he could wear something a little more comfortable than his usual outfit. Tucking his wings into said hoodie was the hard part.

“W-why won’t you just- c’mon” he grunted angrily, trying to tuck the lower feathers of his wings into his jacket or at least his pants. It would be uncomfortable sitting on them, but if it meant the other sides didn’t find out, then he would bear with it.

“Kiddo! Breakfast is ready!” Patton chirped from outside the door. Roman panicked a little, he couldn’t let Patton come in, lest he see.

“I’m getting ready! Be out in a moment!” He called, managing to get the feathers of one wing inside his jacket, by the way they were angled, he could tell they were going to hurt later. Just another price he would have to pay to keep his secret hidden.

“Ok! Don’t take too long though, wouldn’t want your eggs to get cold.” Patton replied, leaving Roman to assume he walked down the hallway into the kitchen. Roman could not let those eggs get cold. He increased his efforts, desperately swatting at his feathers before slowing down a little and finally being able to tuck them into his pants. The symmetry would bother him later, but all that mattered now was the his eggs stayed warm.

As Roman opened his door and started towards the kitchen, he thought about what this whole hiding-his-very-cool-wings thing was for.

This whole thing started because he was anxious. Wow, now was starting to sound like Virgil! But yes, he was ...anxious. He was scared, terrified even, of what would happen if he were to reveal his extra limbs to the others.

You see, Roman hasn’t always had wings. After the split, Roman and Remus were your average, actually, scratch that, your not-so-average run of the mill twins, in that they hate each others guts most of the time, but Roman would gladly stab an army of dragon witches to death for his brother, as would Remus.

Being Thomas’ more... wholesome creativity, he was the one who took over aspects such as hopes and dreams. And Thomas, like any child, miiiiiight have had a tiny, no, huge dream of being able to fly. So imagine 8 year old Roman’s surprise when he feels sharp pains below his shoulder blades. It wasn’t agonizing just yet, but it was enough for Roman to summon his worse half.

“Is this an occult meeting? Was I finally summoned by my loyal followers? Where’s the bod-“ Remus stopped talking when he saw his brother curled up on his bed. “Oh wow, you look like someone stabbed you with a bunch of knives and didn’t stop the internal bleeding when they patched you back up,”

Roman could care less about Remus’ description of him at that point, the pain was worsening. Small spasms of pure hurt were shooting though him.

Remus, finally realizing that yes this is real and yes his brother is in pain, ran over to Roman, having to crawl up onto the bed in order to properly reach him. “What’s wrong?” Remus said, seriously, for probably the first and last time in his life.

“...h-hurts....m-my back...” Roman managed to squeeze out between pants and rapid breaths.

“Uh.. uhhhhhh,” Remus said, eloquently. He really was great at comforting others, wasn’t he.

Luckily, Remus didn’t have to think of a way to help Roman, because now his red and white leach of a brother was clinging to his midsection and getting his outfit wet with tears.

After ten very long minutes of agony, Roman felt... weird. His brain felt as if there was an army of ants crawling through it. Little ants with jackhammers and megaphones, that is. He could feel the comforter below him, but his arms were still wrapped securely around Remus. He had long pants on, so it couldn’t be his legs. And what was that weight on his back?

“Woah,” Remus whispered, astounded. “Look... y-you...”

Roman shifted slightly, trying not to move his sore body any more than he needed to, and proceeded to gasp at what he saw he saw. He was NOT expecting to see feathers, much less connected to him!

“Rem?” Roman was starting to panic. “W-why ar- is t-there...” he trailed off, more tears starting to fill his eyes. What was that? Why did it come out of him? What in the name of Cinderella’s left slipper was going on!?

After Remus somehow managed to calm down Roman (a miracle, truly), he started to admire his new additions. Somehow already feathered (he didn’t question it), they were a burnt amber color, with small ember-like sparkles dusted in places. He tried to lift one of the wings, but only managed a few inches before stopping.“...Im still confused,” he said, quietly. “Why... why do I have wings?” He asked.

“Well,” Remus started, “we could ask Logan?” He suggested. “He almost always has an answer for everything!” He said, smiling.

Roman thought about it for a minute. “No,”

Remus’ smile fell a little, “Why not?”

Roman sighed “Logan hates things that are ‘illogical’, and I think this counts,” he chuckled, lifting his wing up a little bit again.

Remus persisted, “What about-“

Roman cut him off, “I don’t think I wanna tell anybody, Rem. They’ll look at me weird,” he explained. This was a very plausible outcome in the child’s mind, that or he watched too many movies.

Remus looked like he wanted to argue, but Roman stared at him with a pleading look, and he backed down. The two brothers spent the rest of the day researching birds and testing out his wings in the imagination. He enjoyed himself.

“Earth to Roman, come in Roman,” he saw a hand waving in front of his face. His eyes followed the arm the hand was connected to and eventually landed on a sleep deprived Virgil’s face. He looked around, noticing how somehow he was sat at the bar in the kitchen, and had been blankly staring at the marble counter for about 5 minutes now.

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized quickly, “Daydreaming,”

Virgil shrugged and went back to his food, allowing Roman to loose himself in his thoughts again. At least until Logan came into the room.

“Salutations,” he said, dryly. Not waiting for a response, he marched over to the fridge and pulled out a half full jar of crofters. During this, Roman remembered his eggs, which had cooled significantly, and started stuffing his face. Logan walked over to the seat on the other side of Roman, and sat down.

“Welp,” Virgil started, getting out of his seat and putting his dish in the sink, where Patton was washing them, “imma go mentally prepare for the day, see y’all in like, two hours,” he started walking out of the room. Passing Roman, he gave him a rather large pat on the back.

Right on one of his wings.

Roman’s eyes went wide. He sat strait up and dropped his fork as a weird tingling- almost painful sensation went down his spine. Everyone turned to look at him, Patton was concerned, and Logan had half his face full of jam. Virgil awkwardly pulled his hand away from Roman’s back.

“Are you ok, kiddo?” Patton questioned. Concern was evident in his eyes as he cocked his head slightly to the side.

“Everything’s fine, padre,” Roman assured the moral side, praying that no one questioned him further.

“I don’t know if I believe you,” Logan asserted. Roman was starting to internally panic.

“Seriously! I’m fine!” Roman racked his brain for an excuse, “Virgil’s hand was just really cold,”

Virgil looked at him incredulously, “You’re wearing a hoodie,”

Fuck, Roman needed to work on his lying. He stood up out of his chair, “Thanks for breakfast, Padre, but I have some... script... stuff to work on,” he started to walk toward the hallway. Unfortunately Logan got there first, blocking the doorway.

“Not so fast, Roman. We know something is troubling you, and we are your friends, are we not? It would be emotionally beneficial for you to tell us, so that we may help,” Logan reasoned.

Roman was backed into a (metaphorical, he was really still in the middle of the kitchen) corner. “I told you, I’m fine!” He repeated. All he wanted was to get to his room and do something to make his wings stop feeling so uncomfortable.

“Bullshit” Virgil declared, ignoring the small ‘language!’ from Patton, “You’re hiding something, and it’s hurting you, so give it up you limp noodle!”

The limp noodle in question was very panicked at this point, slightly shaking. He couldn’t let them know, he couldn’t. That would only mean bad things. He needs to get back to his room. He needs Remus. If they know they’ll hate him. He doesn’t want them to hate him.

Apparently he wasn’t hiding his panic as well as he thought was, because Patton walked over with a concerned frown, “Oh, Roman,” he put his arms around his child and squeezed him in a large bear hug.

Patton’s arms were right on Roman’s wings.

Roman cried out and slumped against Patton, causing them both to fall to the tile floor below. He curled up into a ball, his breathing turning ragged. It hurt, it hurt just like the first time he got his wings. Only this time he didn’t have Remus. Apparently you’re not supposed to press down on the joints connecting the wings to the rest of the body.

Surprisingly, it was Virgil who was the first to act. “We need to get him to the couch. Patton, help me get his hoodie off, Logan, go get some heat packs” he ordered, thinking that Roman must suffer from back cramps or something similar.

Logan hesitated for a moment before rushing off, leaving the others to carry a slightly limp Roman to the couch in the living room. They tried to pull off the prince like hoodie, but because of the feathers tucked in haphazardly earlier, Roman cried out whenever they tried. Patton’s eyes lit up with an idea, and he rushed off to go find some scissors, letting Virgil sit there, holding the prince’s hand, trying to be a source of comfort for him.

Virgil was abso-fuckin-lutely freaking out internally, but he had to be there for his friends. Before long, Patton come back holding a pair of sharp scissors in his hands, taking care to walk, not run, like they tell you to do in school. He carefully snipped along one of the seams on Roman’s hoodie, silently promising to sew it back together later. He started to get confused when, among the red and gold of the prince’s t-shirt, there was a brown feather.

“Is that..?” Patton trailed off. He focused back on the hoodie. Soon, he had it all the way clipped, and was about to ask Virgil to help flip Roman onto his stomach in order to have better access to his back, when he saw more of those strange feathers.

“Virgil?” He looked toward the man in question.

The purple clad man noticed the feathers, alright. But he didn’t have time to wonder why Roman was keeping bird leafs in his jacket. “Help me flip him over,” he asked Patton, who nodded and set down the scissors.

Apparently Virgil DID have time to concern himself with the feathers in his friend’s jacket, seeing as those feathers were connected to said friend.“...I guess we know what he was hiding,” Patton chuckled.

This was the moment Logan decided to burst into the room carrying a multitude of heating elements. “I acquired some heat packs, as well as the rice sacks you place in the microwa-“ he stopped short, noticing the large bird wings attached to Roman’s upper back. “...I’m not even going to ask,” he stated. And set down the electronic heat packs, before taking the others into the kitchen.

Roman was... confused, to say the least. The pain has lessened to the point where he could think again, but the others had seen his wings, hadn’t they? Why weren’t they disgusted? He-he thought-

“Roman, kiddo,” Patton said to the winged side, “how are you holding up?”

Roman started tearing up, but he refused to cry, lest Patton think he was in more pain then he was, “I-it still hurts, but not as much,” he admitted, a small smile (or grimace, that too) gracing his features.

Patton nodded and leaned down to pick up one of the heat packs, which he plugged in to a nearby outlet. “I have a heat pack, do you think I could put it at the base of your wings?” He asked.

Roman nodded, and Patton placed the device on his back. Almost instantly the pain lessened. It was still there, but Roman felt like he could breathe again. Logan walked in and wordlessly handed the now warm heating packs to Patton, before sitting on the ground in front of the couch next to him. Patton held up a heating pack, gently placing it near the bottom of the wing base.

“So...” Virgil started, awkwardly, “This is what you’ve been hiding?” Some of his panic from earlier was slipping into his voice. Roman grabbed his hand from where he laid on the couch, which to be fair, was a little awkward, but Roman wanted to comfort Patton’s dead gay son.

“Yeah,” Roman replies breathlessly, rubbing his thumb over Virgil’s knuckles. No one spoke for a while.

Logan was the one to break the silence, “How long?”

Roman replied simply, “since we were eight,” he looked down at the ground and stopped rubbing Virgil’s knuckles.

“You didn’t need to,” Roman perked up when he heard Logan speak. “What do you mean?” He questioned.

“You did not need to hide this from us,” Logan assured, “These are beautiful. I have no idea why you would want to keep them hidden” he answered honestly.

Roman looked back down at the ground, feeling Virgil giving his hand reassuring squeezes. “Because... because I was scared,” he admitted, “I was scared you would think they were weird- think IM weird,” he felt Patton’s hand on his shoulder.

“We would never,”

No more words needed to be said. Roman looked into Patton’s eyes and knew he was telling the truth. These were his friends. His family. They care about him. They won’t reject him. They aren’t going to leave him. Remus was right. Roman started to tear up a little.

“Thanks, padre,” his voice shook a little, bit one said anything about it, “can you help me sit up?”

Patton nodded, before grabbing his shoulders and sitting him up so that his wings were spread out in a way that would not hurt them further. There was some pleasant conversation between the winged side and his companions. Roman started to forget about the ache in his shoulder blades.

“I’m going to need to study your wings, Roman,” stayed Logan, “I want to see how they work in the air,”.

Roman grinned, “sure, I’d be happy to,”. He felt content sitting with his friends. Maybe he should have reveled his wings sooner.

“Roman?” Roman turned to look in the direction of the noise, “Why is it that you have wings?” asked Virgil.

Roman chuckled before answering,

”What child doesn’t wish to fly?”

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jvlesfm · 4 years

Text

chicago’s very own juliet ‘ jules ’ alder has been spotted on madison avenue driving a mercedes g wagon , welcome ! your resemblance to olivia o’brien is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty first birthday bash . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re whimsical , but being vivacious might help you . i think being a pisces explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be dancing on tables past last call , curious eyes glinting in the dim lights of a club , secrets and promises shared beneath silk sheet . ( she slept with her , now , manager in order to get signed to an agency ) & ( cisfemale + she/her )

hello frands ! i’m keri ( she/her ) and it’s been a lil while since i’ve been in a group so excuse my noobness . but this quarantine got me bored in the house , in the house bored & tbh i’ve already watched tiger king twice i need help . before i make too many tik tok references imma get into jules’ intro . and hopefully keep it short and sweet . update : i did not .

trigger warning : mentions of statutory rape , underage sex , & mild alcoholism

alrighty in vague summary ! jules is your local meme queen , general jokester , go with the flow queen , smokes too much weed and drinks too much tequila . she’s a musician / instagram influencer that kind of mirrors olivia o’brien’s career cause i’m ORIGINAL . she can be carefree , careless , effervescent , a bit naive / oblivious , turbulent and loyal !

a really ridiculous background

trigger warning : mentions of statutory rape & underage sex . daddy was a greedy older man that got tied down by an accidental pregnancy resulting in lil miss naughty . so really , he’s always been rather resentful towards jules and in turn she resented him but that was only the tip of the iceberg . the alder business company came into some financial trouble and was in desperate need of investors ... leading him to finally take an interest in his daughter and to keep it to the point , he basically pimped her out to investors as a little extra incentive ya feel ?

jules kind of just , blocked it out and suppressed that shit deep , at least she tried to . rly she felt used and a pawn in her dad’s word . her mom was to caught up in her own downward spiral with a thinly veiled marriage and self medication to care about her daughter . so jules became the queen of masking her emotions with humor and effectively not caring ; which made her rather popular ... popular enough for n*sty teenage boys to make her feel wanted and just leave when somethin better comes along ! you know that stoner , burnout , party girl that’s in the ~ cool clique ~ that’d be your girl .

fast forward a few years and finally jules turned 18 so now dad could feel less guilty about using her to further his company !! well , it kind of gave jules the freedom to do whatever she wanted ? as long as she behaved in the media , ya know .. preformed LSKDJFSLKD . she rly turned to alcohol to help suppress the n*sty feeling of been used , and used partying and clubbing to just like ... let it all go ! this ...... went on for another year before she finally had enough , do i have a reason why she finally came to her senses ? nope !

important side story ... jules has always been into music , writing , composing and ofc singing . it has always been her outlet and a way to vent her feelings .. not really about shit with her dad and family but more what goes on daily ? she kind of wears her feelings / emotions on her sleeve in that sense . just so not everything is ridiculously bottled up LSKDJFA , she gotta be functioning .

continuing on ! she ... ran off to nyc to pursue music , but her dad was like hell nah and cut her off ... yikes . so at 19 , in a city she IS NOT FAMILIAR WITH , she was uh kind of desperate , but as luck would have it , after her first week of suffering she met a dude at a bar , who happened to be a scooter braun type music / talent manager ... idk what to call it pls . anyways , she was a bit wasted and just poured out all her fckin frustrations cause she’s dumb . one thing lead to another , and the next morning ... jokingly , she floated the JOKE of sleeping w him and he’d produce her record .. which he took seriously and next thing jules was in the studio and singing her heart out and uh other things , making some money as well as he introduced her to the whole new york scene . he just made her famous okurr , tbh she was so naive to everything and so heart eyes over this guy .. but NO SURPRISE when she got her heart broken after she saw him hooking up w someone else LDFJSLKDJ

and time jump again bc im rambling .. basically jules is still signed with the company and he’s still like her manager but she’s since moved on and kept things rather professional . she’s making enough money to shove it in her dad’s face that she can thrive on her own . but insists she does not drink bc of her daddy issues ! and uh yeah !

some sad excuses for wanted connection

roomies ! / someone she caught feelings for and they kinda left her high and dry / bad influence / ride or die / squad / frenemies / fwb / exes / unrequited / childhood frands / family frands / family enemies / someone who strung her along or she strung along / idk all the dramatic angsty things

#wealthyhq:intro #SKLDJFSLDJF this the worst uh #pls forgive this TRASH #i did not proofread yikes

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crysta-cub · 5 years

Text

Caught in a Blind: Chapter 6 Recovery Road has Pot Holes

Two different recoveries begin their journey, one of them is off to a rocky start, while the other is just beginning to move.

Warning: Nightmares, Cursing (Not sure what else I need to warn about let me know)

AO3

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Stretch didn’t expect that watching over Edge would be anything more than boring. From time to time, the Fell monster muttered in his sleep, usually nothing really understandable but on occasion he’d share divine revelations such as “Moose does not taste like shoes.” to an explanation of how to make the best quiche. Stretch was sure the process didn’t actually include throwing eggs against the wall as Edge described, but he also wasn’t really much of a cook so what did he know. The small snores he’d make in his sleep where equal parts adorable as occasionally frightening when it was accompanied by harsh growls.

Stretch never deemed himself strong at projecting feelings but Red was not wrong in the need to share positive feelings whenever it seemed Edge’s sleep turned unrestful. But there were nights like tonight where no matter how much Stretch projected, the nightmares would end up being just too much.

To say Stretch was startled by Edge’s scream would be an understatement. An odd mix of fear and aggression rose up from Edge’s throat, as if attempting to scare off whatever may have been in the nightmare. Darkened sockets open, though no eyelight ignited to show that Edge was fully awake. Edge was leaning forward, pushing himself up with his uninjured arm.

“Whoa, whoa, Edge, it’s ok. It just a dream.” Stretch reached out a hand, wanting to push Edge back to the bed, but knowing better than to do so until he was awake. One shattered window was enough, thanks. Luckily Blue got out of the way of that one quick enough. Quickly Stretch began projecting safety/calm/security to try to soothe the terrified monster.

Edge sat there panting, before he closed his sockets to shake of the nightmare out of his system. When he opened his sockets, that fear melted away with relief. Edge reached out with his good arm, hand gently fell over Stretch’s cheek. Stretch froze as he looked into the crimson, sleep-hazed eyelights.

“You’re ok?” Edge breathed, eyelights searched his face.

“Yea, I’m fine.” Stretch whispered back as he reached up to hold onto Edge’s hand.

The moment shattered suddenly as Edge flinched and fell back into the bed as pain suddenly registered. Stretch managed to hold onto Edge’s hand as the injured skeleton tried to curl in on himself. It was at that moment that Stretch cursed that his magic was still on the fritz, a bit of a after affect of the stupid goop, a delay in being able to use magic. He would offer healing magic if he could, and all he could do right now was watch.

Stretch could hear every haggard breath as Edge tried to breathe through the pain. The lightest pressure in his hand startled Stretch when he realized Edge was trying to squeeze his hand. Stretch managed to match that squeeze in an offer of comfort with the gesture.

Edge’s breathing began to even out and just as quickly as when he woke, Edge was back to sleep. Stretch got up and began to straighten out the sleeping monster and blankets using his free. It was a little awkward but Stretch managed, even smoothed out the wrinkles before sitting back down, leaning close so as to not pull Edge across the bed. Stretch inspected the other’s hand, noticed the small scars and chips in the bone. The last digits of each finger, sharpened to a point like claws. Stretch curiously wondered if they naturally became that way or if they were filed. He shuddered at the thought of the later.

Comparatively, his hands were smooth and thinner. Evident of his easier upbringing. Stretch never really dwelled on it much. The differences in their world, the choices they’ve had to make. Yea, all the skeletons had their varying degrees of having to be in that lab, another memory Stretch didn’t want to spiral down into.

Carefully, Stretch laid Edge’s hand back down on the bed, gave it a gentle pat before sitting back, and brought a knee up on the chair to rest his chin on. Edge managed to be the youngest of the Papyri, circumstance aging him both mentally and physically. Red and Edge rarely talked about their childhood, never mentioned any fond memories or shown any embarrassing photos. Stretch kinda wondered if there even was any. The more Stretch watched over Edge and the more he saw how Red interact with his injured brother, the more Stretch began to wonder about Edge.

Red was right, he really didn’t know Edge.

He could almost say the same about Edge knowing him, but with the way his brother carried on with topics that involved him. He kinda wondered what picture Edge painted for him since their first meeting. It apparently wasn’t all bad. And here he was blindly hating on Edge with his first impression, and every chance he potentially had to get to know the guy, he brushed off or did his best to snob the fell monster. The guy fucking risked his own neck for him, even after how badly he treated him. The stupid names he called him. Stretch treated him like he was less than dirt and Edge still defended him when he needed it the most. This guy is something.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to start over. Maybe it was time to get to know the Edgelord for who he really was. The guy behind the scars, the glare and the Black and Red outfit. There was more to the puzzle of Edge, beyond the LV 15 status.

Stretch smiled into the darkened room. If he was honest with himself, he was already looking forward to getting to know the real Edge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stretch looked over as the door creaked open, watched as Red shuffle in. A quick glance at his phone told him it was morning, time for the pain meds Red has been giving Edge. Good, the other could use them.

“i see doctor hatchet has come to give the patient his pills.” Stretch commented smartly only to receive a single finger salute of the rude kind. It’s how he shows he cares.

“eh, kinda,” Red paused a moment to scratch at his chin, “gotta reduce the dose for a bit. Those meds don’t mix well with the green magic. so if we wanna speed along some-o-the healin’ we gotta take away the pain meds. A few weeks out of comiss’ es betta than a few months, ‘specially for boss. the plus side, he’ll be more lucid fer a while.” Red brought out the vial and a syringe, the sight of which sent a shiver up Stretch’s spine, forced him to look away.

“yea, yea, I don’t like these thin’s eitha, ya ain’t gotta be here if ya don’t wanna.” Red moved over to Edge’s bed and began prepping the medicine.

“got nothin’ better to do,” Stretch leaned back as he watched Red, “Blue’s declared me unfit for work with my magic being jacked, not that i don’t mind a vacation. But he’s basically ground me from going to muffets tho. Haven’t been able to go all week, plus i’d have to walk.”

“shit should be outta yer system in a few days. Maybe afta this I’ll hop over and snag ya somethin’ fer watchin’ over my bro for me.” Red tapped the syringe in warning.

Stretch looked away, not out of complete uneasiness of the act, but because Red preferred not to be watched. “dude, you spoil me too good, i may have to put Edge out of commision more often.”

“don’t” Red snipped back, though humor was in his voice. “well ‘cept when he over works himself, just do it in a way that doesn’t nearly get ya both killed.”

“sure i could figure out something.” Stretch shrugs as he looks back, Red tucking the blanket around Edge.

“how was he last night?” Red tucked his hands back into his pockets, watching Edge sleep for a moment.

Stretch lets out a sigh. “he woke up to a nightmare, my projections weren’t up to snuff for it. he kinda hurt himself but his energy’s still shot so he passed out soon after.”

“figured it’ll happ’n, they’ll go away after a bit, i wouldn’t worry on et.” Red scratched the back of his head. “welp, imma head out, whatcha want from muff?” “tell her my usual. she’ll know what to get me. thanks man.” Stretch shot him duel finger guns.

Red rolled his eyes and disappeared. Stretch was left to watch as the medicine took affect. It was interesting to see the tense lines on the sleeping skeleton slowly ease.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A yawn and a stretch, he popped the bones in his back. As Stretch reached for the door to the guest room, he could hear actual chatter coming from the room. The gruff voice of Red and a hoarse lower tone that rang familiar to the normally coarse voice that resembled Edge. Didn’t seem like he was saying much, but it was a change from the near vegitative state the fell monster had been in.

From what it sounded like Red was catching Edge up on what was going on both with his recovery and things in Underfell. It didn’t sound like he would be interrupting anything private, so he turned the knob and entered the room.

Stretch looked over to the bed, Edge was propped up with a few extra pillows, his eyelights, pale to their normal intensity, moved slowly over to look at Stretch.

Stretch smiled, offered a small wave, “good morning sleepy head, glad to see you’re doing better.”

Edge only gave back a low grunt, sockets lowered to a mild glare before he wavered a nod in his direction. “Stretch.” he barely breathed out the greeting before looking over to Red.

Red looked at his phone before getting up from his chair. “Welp bro, I gotta get goin’. Undyne’s askin’ for reports and shit. If ya need anythin’ honeybun here can help ya.” Red pointed to Stretch before he pocketed his hands and shortcuts out of the room. There was a huffed “Thanks” from Edge before the monster shifted in his bed.

Stretch took over Red’s spot. “how you feeling, Edge?”

Edge’s movements appeared to be excessively slow as he seemed to consider the question. “Been better.” He grunts, phalanges play with the comforter. “How about you?” he seemed a little slurred in his speech.

“doing dandy, magics not all there but i’m doing just fine.” Stretch shrugged as he watched Edge slowly blinked at him followed by the slowest nod he’d ever seen. It be funny if he wasn’t feeling so guilty about it. He glanced to Edge’s uncasted hand, noticing the strain he was putting on it as he clenched the sheet. “you’re in pain?”

Edge unclenched his hand and slowly shook it out. “Been in worse, LV numbs it a bit.”

Stretch glanced back up at Edge’s face. With all those injuries, it really shouldn’t be a surprise that he’s in pain, but he didn’t know LV actually dulled it to a degree. Which means he would be in…. Nope, gonna step away from that guilt filled rabbit hole.

“I’m sorry.” The words came out of nowhere, it was spoken so softly he nearly missed it. Stretch blinked, doing a double take at Edge who seemed to be doing all he could to not look at him.

“what for? if anything I should be the one apologizing to you.” Stretch was confused. What the fuck does Edge have to apologize for?

“For losing my temper.” Edge looked up at Stretch, their eyelights met for a moment before he glanced away. “I didn’t mean what I said,” Edge’s speech was slow but deliberate, as if to make sure his words weren’t misunderstood. “You’re not useless, an ashtray, yes, cigarettes are disgusting, but not useless. Far from it.”

Edge took a deep breath, guilt and shame painted his features. “I… I lost control for a second. Was losing control.” Stretch waited patiently, watched as Edge grew more uncomfortable. “I, um, before you guys arrived for movie night.” Stretch could see Edge choose his words carefully. “Something happened while on duty.” His jaw clenched and unclenched as he seemed to struggle to continue.

“My LV was riled up. I didn’t have time to calm it down. By avoiding your brother, or everyone, I was just trying to get it to calm down.” Edge looked every bit like a kid in stripes that had gotten into trouble. “Cooking, mostly the prep part, helps to calm it. When you came into the kitchen, it was nearly under control. I had to get you out of the kitchen, but my outburst was uncalled for, I shouldn’t have lashed out at you.” There was a subtle gulp from Edge as he looked up into Stretch’s eyes, “You didn’t deserve my anger. I’m sorry.”

“dude, no. i’m the asshole here.” Edge looked a little taken back. Stretch moved over onto the bed, and took Edge’s uninjured hand in his own. He felt the fell monster stiffen for a moment, confusion from the gesture on his face. “had i just left well enough alone, if i had not stormed into the kitchen to argue with you. had i known you were struggling, i wouldn’t have…’ Stretch sighed, “the point is, none of that was your fault. i riled you up to the point that you felt the need to get me to leave you alone before you did something you’d regret. It worked, i just was stupid enough to leave the house. I put myself in danger.”

Stretch ran his thumb over Edge’s hand, feeling the monster relax, marginally. “Look, I really haven’t been all that fair to you. I saw your LV the day we met and made a Judgement based on that alone. I never got to know you past that and made assumptions based on it. I had my head shoved up my pelvic girdle...”

“That sounds uncomfortable.” Edge commented dryly, snapping Stretch out of his rambling, and caused him to chuckle. And now suddenly Edge makes jokes. Stretch took a closer look, there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyelights. Something Stretch never would have noticed before, this was getting to be too much. Unfortunately that amusement was being overshadowed by exhaustion. Edge looked as if he’d pass out at any moment, but still not quite ready to fall asleep. Oh the fussiness of the higher energy brothers, they never seemed to want to just fall asleep, luckily Stretch did have a trick up his sleeve for that.

“for what it’s worth, i’m sorry. you didn’t deserve how i treated you at all.” Stretch began to message Edge’s hand bones, watched as Edge relaxed into it. He could almost put the fell monster to sleep with this alone. “if it helps, i accept your apology, even though you didn’t need to offer it. but you don’t have to accept mine, i’d rather earn it.” Stretch deepened the message, hearing a small sound, almost like a pur from the other skeleton. “not sure if you’d be interested, but maybe we could start over? i honestly would like to get to know the real you.”

Edge slowly opened up his sockets to look at Stretch, mostly in surprise but with a twinge of hope, perhaps. Stretch really was not used to being able to read Edge’s facial expressions.

“I’d like that.” Edge replied, still speaking softly, his energy nearly depleted.

“i should let you get to sleep.” Edge’s grimace and the shake of his head was down right predictable. Of course he wouldn’t want to go to sleep so easily. Stretch chuckled, “Alright, what would you like to do then?”

Edge blinked before responding. “Reading sounds nice right about now.”

Stretch smiled, and let go of Edge’s hand with one of his hands to search his inventory. “i got this little book i’ve been reading from. not sure if it’s up your alley.” Stretch handed the book over, letting go of Edge’s hand so he could grab it.

Edge took the offered book and brought it closer to his face. Immediately, Edge was glaring at the book hard, as if trying to bore a hole right through it with his eyelights.

“oh, uh, if you don’t like it, i could try to find you something else.” Stretch reached over to try to retrieve the book.

Edge let out a heavy sigh as he lowered the book into Stretch’s hand. “That’s not the problem. I don’t think I can read right now.” There’s that ashamed look again, he really needs to stop doing that.

Then it clicked. Edge wasn’t glaring at the book, he was trying to see the words. So when he entered the room, Edge wasn’t glaring at him when he entered the room, but was trying to actually see him. In all honesty, Stretch wasn’t sure how Edge managed to stay awake for this long. Even with the mostly empty magic bag, Edge didn’t seem to have enough magic to even see properly. But why did Stretch fell like he’d seen that glare-like squint before.

“here, i got an idea.” Stretch took the book and moved himself to sit right next to Edge, side by side, careful not to jar any of Edge’s injuries. He opened the book to the beginning, held it with one arm while the other slung over Edge’s pillow. His knees bent upwards to help hold the book at a good angle.

“What are you doing?” Edge had stiffen again, glancing between the book and Stretch.

“i’m gonna read to you. hasn’t Red ever read to you?” Stretch questioned, like it was the most normal thing ever.

“I haven’t been read to since I was a baby bone.” Edge countered, not all that defensive. “Not since the book go ruined.”

“oh,” There was one universal constant in their worlds, The children’s book Peek-a-boo With Fluffy Bunny. It was a favorite for all the younger siblings, both Papyrus and Blue still enjoyed a nostalgic read through from time to time. Stretch did wonder if Edge did get to hear that tale before but maybe that was the answer. Perhaps the book perished due to their harsh environment, thus severed one of the few favored past times. There was a tug at Stretch’s soul at that thought.

“well, um, i usually read to Blue this way. It’s pretty comfortable but if i’m making you uncomfortable I could move back to the chair.” Stretch moved to get up.

“No, this is fine.” Edge, again, avoided his gaze. “Go ahead and start reading.”

Stretch smiled and settled back down. He began to read the book, some story of a girl and some dragons. Absently, Stretch’s other hand ran along Edge’s head, mindful of bandages and scars, especially of the very tip of the crack that ran from his socket. That sound that nearly was a pur returned. A few pages in, Edge’s head tilted onto to his side, leaning against him as the injured skeleton began to relax. It wasn’t until the tenth page page did Edge let out a gentle snore, signalling he had fallen asleep. Worked every time with Blue when he was exhausted but refused to sleep.

Stretch set the book down as he watched Edge sleep. His features had softened as he sunk deeper and deeper into his slumber. Stretch couldn’t help to see a little bit of Blue in him, that ball of energy finally relenting to the need to rest.

He ran his fingers over Edge’s head one more time before carefully removing himself from the bed and gently coaxing the sleeping skeleton into a better sleeping position. Pulling a bookmark from his inventory, Stretch saved the space they were on before he flipped to the page further to the back of the book where he left off. Settled into the chair, Stretch made himself comfortable for his watch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day came by swiftly, Stretch was fixing himself something to eat in the kitchen. Edge rested upstairs, no pain medicine given for the day. Later in the day Red and Comic where expected to show up and whip up that green magic for Edgy boy. Whatever helped him heal faster. Stretch gathered up his sandwich and two mugs of tea, one for Edge incase he was awake. Edge couldn’t really eat anything sol but a mild tea was still acceptable.

Stretch gently kicked open the door before using his elbow to flip on the lights so he could see better, the cracked open curtains just didn’t provide enough. Suddenly he is greeted by a hiss as Edge flinched at the light. Tea sloshed in the cups from Stretch’s near jump. After he made sure the tea wasn’t going to spill all over the place, Stretch quickly walked over to the bed and placed the mugs and sandwich on the bedside table before checking on Edge.

“hey, Edge, you alright?”

“Shhhhhh, too loud.” Edge hissed back, his good hand pressed against his scarred socket and his blanket was poorly pulled up to try to block off the light. “Please turn off the light, it’s too bright.” Edge rasped as his bones rattled unpleasantly.

Stretch hurried back to the door to do as he asked. He even shut the door to cancel out the light from the house before he went to the window to draw the blinds closed, submitting the room into darkness. A relieved sigh could be heard from the bed.

As quietly as he could move, Stretch made his way back to squat by the bed. “hey, Edge, what’s going on?” He thankfully whispered.

Edge relaxed a degree as he adjusted to the pleasantly dark room. He let himself take a few shaky breaths before responding quietly, “Pain, in my skull, behind my socket.” A deep shaky breath interrupted him. “It happens from time to time. Everything just becomes too much.”

“anything I can do?” Stretch leans back on his heels, taking in that information.

“Contact Red” Edge pleaded before he began to whimper, Edge seemed to want to curl up in a ball, the action made impossible by the bandages and casts.

“ok, I’ll be right back.” Stretch stood up and rushed out of the room. Digging out his phone from his sweater pocket, Stretch found his contact for Red, hurried to press send.

“what’s up Hun-bun, everything alright?” Red sounded concerned over the other line, must not have been around anyone.

“not exactly, Edge seems to be in pain, more than the usual pain. says it’s coming from his head, right behind that scarred socket of his. you know anything about it?”

“shit, fuck,” Came Red’s growled reply. “good fuckin’ timin’ there. how bad you said it was?”

“he’s clutching his socket and seemed very sensitive to both light and sound. his bones are rattling pretty hard to, it can’t be good for his wounds. even started whimpering” Stretch leaned against the wall as he explained.

“oh, it’s a bad one then. Gonna have to give him the pain meds then. can’t heal him today. fuck.” Stretch can hear the scrape of bone as Red rubbed his face with his hand.

“what is it?” Stretch asked in concern.

“Some of the fleshier monsters round here get it. call it a migraine, not surprise it doesn’t happen much in yer verse. but it’s never been seen in those monsters without organs like us. Boss just has to be the exception ta tha rule, i guess.” Red growled again. “its been happenin’ since he got them scars. fuckin’ hell, and it’s painful as fuck when its bad. i think i got somethin’ at the house that’ll put him to sleep. Seems ta be the only way to really escape et.”

“anything I can do for him.” Stretch questioned as he shifted his feet.

“nah, just keep et dark and quiet, maybe have a trash can handy incase he gets queasy. I’ll be over in two shakes, just keep him company.” Red hung up, leaving Stretch with his advice.

Quietly Stretch slipped back into the room and crept over to the bed. His soul clenched as he heard Edge whimper, followed by a small choked sob. “Red’s on his way.” Stretch whispered as he carefully slid his hand up to Edge’s elbow and gave is a supportive squeeze. He caught the quick nod Edge gave in return.

The few minutes it took for Red to get there nearly felt like an eternity, but Red moved quickly to give Edge a dose of pain meds as well as encourage him to swallow a pill with the help of the tea. As Edge drifted off to sleep to escape the migraine hell he was in, Stretch offered Red his sandwich, no longer hungry but shouldn’t let it go to waste. Edge’s healing will have to wait for another day.

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tamiddyinyourcity · 4 years

Text

11:34pm.

Bitch what the actual fuck.

Tuesday, April 14th of 2020.

Agh. For fucks sake, I wasn't ending our entire friendship, just trying to say that I needed time for things to blow off before fully being chill yet again.

Since it's kinda hard to go from "fuck yeah Tamia lets go half and half on one of those cool continential vibrators", (its dope as fuck, i cant wait till it comes, then i cant wait till i come, ha-haaaaaaa, yes,) to yknow, not being flirty or sexual anymore like two days later.

It's not like I'm mad at him. That's not remotely the truth.

I guess, all the factors are:

Mild romantic affection that has potential to go overboard. I get too attached super ea

He doesn't want a relationship, or feel stable enough for one. That's fine, I wouldn't pressure him into one. I'm not even in the mood to slightly nudge them into the idea. A person needs to heal first before they get involved with someone. Just like how I don't want to project my past onto him, or whatever, I wouldn't want that the other way around either.

Long distance - I mean.... I'm personally okay with long distance. Modern technology makes it easier, from Discord, to online gaming, screenshare technology, sexting, AAAAAAND THE AMAZING INVENTIONS OF VIBRATORS THAT CONNECT TO THE WI-FI, TO MAKE A GIRL CUM EVEN FROM OVERSEAAAAAAS. And I'm pretty much a Yes Girl when it comes to most things, so oh, pen pal? Dope. Sending gifts in my mail? My speed, I've done it before and absolutely loved it. Straight up visiting? Sure, what's gonna stop me from getting dick and affection from someone I adore? Not shit, thats what. But, he's understandably not into it. Not everyone has good experiences, I get it.... And, well, I may be the one to fly overseas for the chance to make out with a chubby cheeked cute motherfucker with a big schlong and a nice accent, buuuuuuut I'm not very good at....

Platonic dynamics with people I used to fuck with sexually or romantically. Hell, why do you think me and my ex ended up fucking in February as "friends"? Or the ex before him, where I told him we should just stay friends, and oh look, we sure had some very friendly fuck sessions in his bed every possible moment. Even Marco, a complete cunt who I still despise to this day, "we are friends right?"-ed his way into some pussy, on several occasions. And the ones that I didn't start seeing again, still wanted it. (Like Adrian, who I didn't believe wanted to be just friends from the start... He almost convinced me that night we had hung out eating skittles late at night, but overall he was just hoping to 'idk im just up suuuuuper late lol how r u what porn do u like haha im just wondering' his way into cheating on his freaking girlfriend.) Even goddamned Matty tried, and he LEFT ME FOR ANOTHER BITCH, so long story short, I've grown to not be as trusting of male/female close friendships....... Even when I tried to get over my fear with my last relationship by meeting that one stank hoe, she refused, then got cursed out.... Imma take a shot of wine and move on from this topic really soon.

So if it were platonic, either I'd be kinda salty over that, or staying for the wrong reasons, versus we would just end up sexting anyway. (Kinda a shame that we both reached the conclusion of "sex is a bad idea, itll get us emotionally attached when neither is fully ready to try committing" just two days after deciding to adopt a vibrator together.)

Plus I'm not a fan of jealousy. I've had minor moments, and some big ones. (Mostly minor ones, like going a bit too quiet when my ex Patrick #1 straight up bearhugged from random chick he knew years before without introducing me, or my most recent ex and that time he talked about a girl at work he saw with a "J-Lo sized booty", (hes such an idiot for thinking I would want to hear that,) or how he gave some random girl a ride home from work.... Aside from the butt incident, I rarely act out when jealous, I just like, get super curious and may mentally detach from someone if not confirmed that my thoughts are not real.)

All in all, sure, the other night I was all gungho about not talking. Buuut frankly, then once it was like almost 4pm and I was worried he wouldn't respond to my message, he did, and we had clicked to normal.

I guess its just a risky transition that may be too soon to ask for as a normal route, you know? If he wants to be friends without sex or flirting, then yeah, but like, id probably still need some time to distance......

Or like, realistically, kinda hard to go from "random flirt friend", to "cool he showed me his dick entirely unprovoked, what the hell..... but it's nice", to talking every day from the moment I wake up to when I pass out with bits of flirting or sexting, to.... the friendship wthout the flirting and sexting there.

Kinda unexpected.... and also pretty upsetting, for many reasons.

Sucks to get a crush on a dude, and kinda spend a fat wad of cash specifically to nut for them during an online movie night or something, just for them to not want to do that anymore.... Since they'd end up catching feelings for me that way.

Kinda hard not to cry, knowing a dude is openly gonna avoid doing something because he knows it would make him like you?

That's a lot to unpack there........

I just don't think I can make that transition without a bit of friction. It just seems like my fears are coming true, and I'm gonna be the friend on standby that won't actually get cuffed, but can be around, as the person she likes proudly gushes to her about the new local girl in his own town that he decided he adores.

Especially when its like, "That could've been me yknow".... Just, no one wants to see someone else in the situation they would want for themselves. Like if a kid on Christmas got promised a bike, settled for a hula hoop, but saw their own parents give their cousin a bike instead, or something. (I can't tell if that metaphor makes sense without sounding like I'm an entitled asshole who's mad about the fictional "friendzone", but its midnight, hoe, nothing makes sense at midnight.)

I guess if I'm already tense enough at seeing his pervy flirt tweets when we aren't even a thing like that, I can't imagine how salty I may be, if it ended up being like "Yoooo Tamia how are you? I just met this fine ass girl, she's got the wagon AND the horses, shes so sweet and funny and i genuinely really adore her!"

That already happened once and resulted in a block, an apology, and a mildly unnecessary "but if not for distance, i would totally love to see what is possibly there between us"....

Which, sure, gave me a nice self esteem boost, but ironically did not deny nor confirm that he would like me enough to ever consider something like that.

All he did tonight was repeat what he said the few days before. Not having the cahones to go "I'm never going to date you", or full on saying "dating will not be something I'd try with you."

And I almost was okay with that. Screw it, I can still use my vibrator and chat with my friend.

But...... its....

Idk.

Hard to write right now..... I'm very emotional rn.

Maybe our friendship is one sided and thats why im hesitant? Or is it the way they didnt tell me for so long that sexting was a bad idea, or about his fear of catching feelings for me and being depressed about not seeing me if we dated long distance?

Fucks sake.

And, I stubbed my toe, so its an extra not cool mood tonight......

Long story short, if not for distance, god knows that I'd swallow his kids and have his family in my lower intestine, or that I'd let him fuck me so hard that whatever surface, whether cement or steel, would demolish underneath us, since hes fucking hot.

(I think quarantine makes me a lot more creative sexually, lmfao.)

And I guess its embarrassing, being the one out here blushing at the idea of somebody, or slightly crushing on them, and it not being reciprocated. (And if reciprocated, then willfully and purposefully not acted on, since dating me is perceived as a burden without even trying.... Even if not the truth, well, its the image that would stick in my mind...)

And yeah, no girl wants to be the "i hope I can visit him someday" to a man's "i cant date her and we realistically wouldn't work out" sorta thing, you know?

......

Plus, the girl I was worried about just dumped her boyfriend. Kinda betting he's gonna take that opportunity, which furthers my point about how i hate jealousy, and yes, I don't want to even think about him deciding I was better for venting or conversation, but willfully sexting someone else.....

Gosh.

I'm just.... very stressed, and he stopped answering and replying to my messages.

It's genuinely upsetting me to the point of tears. I feel like a bad person? But I know I didn't do anything wrong. If anything, I wanted to do what I felt would work best for us, just like him. Since I can't just dive out of feelings for someone instantly, a girl needs space yknow?

So whoohoo, no sexual validation or friendly flirting. Not sure if thats what i wanted the night before or not, but.... i dont know what i want or feel whatsoever, at this point.

Ugh.

And he kinda made me feel bad about it. "i do view somebody who i feel comfortable being a friend with without anything else. and i understand if you can’t see that and that’s not what u signed up for".

I don't want to give the "if i cant have u as a sex object then fuck friendship entirely with you" vibe, i wanted to give the "nigga i literally was crushing on you so hard that i stayed up till 2am trying to find that one nut video you sent me, since nothing else makes me aroused, and im clearly highly infatuated with you to an almost creepy extent and i need to distance myself so i do not sabotage the friendship, that i do love, but it was inherently sexual from the jump and gave me the vibe that you liked me back to bother sticking around, and now im shocked and sad and hurt, but just need to find a healthy balance of supporting your life, while still having one of my own, to avoid escalating things in a way you wouldn't be comfortable with", vibe.

.....

I hope my vibrators come soon. I kinda cried a lot on my body pillow, and it was a rough night due to a failed hair wash and the way he dipped out of conversation so bluntly without allowing me to explain that i wasnt ending oue friendship entirely.....

Damn.

12:36am. Gonna let some more tears out and probably go masturbate, or watch Diesel Patches or some shit. Peace out.

#peace yalls #rowan #dammit #:/

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langst-wins · 5 years

Text

the last thing i'm gonna say about voltron, unintentional queerbaiting, and major s8 plotholes, and then imma shut up and let y'all be free from my long bitch ass s8 posts so we can get back to regularly scheduled klance fanfics & fanarts

yes, they queerbaited us with shiro as rep. not in the sense that he wasn't queer but in the sense that they hyped us up for his relationship with adam, made us think we were gonna see an adashi reunion, and we ended up getting like 90 seconds top of LGBT content over the entire series.

no, I highly doubt they did it intentionally. yes, they did admit they fucked up and apologized several times. yes, I appreciate the apology and I understand that they're human beings and people make mistakes and overlook things sometimes. like they said, they never meant to make anyone feel baited. they really thought they were going to get a good response. lauren called voltron a "learning experience" in the open letter to the fandom after s7. I think she meant learning experience in general ofc but I think she also meant they've learned how to and how not to do LGBT rep in a show.

but I will absolutely be taking any promises of LGBT rep from lm and jds with a grain of salt. i will absolutely be watching their future works from afar and not getting myself too invested until the series ends and I can watch it as a whole while knowing what to expect.

I dont think they MEANT harm but y'all...they fucked up. they know it, and they apologized. it shows maturity that they apologized in that open letter after s7 and at the final nycc panel, and again, I appreciate that.

but I would rather they have not said anything about LGBT rep, ever, and just let gay shiro be a nice surprise. then, the minimal rep we received would have been wonderful and a nice warm surprise instead of a huge disappointment. it was only a disappointment because it didn't live up to the hype they made for it. and I know the hype was partially due to marketing they had no control over, but it was absolutely partially them, too.

they didn't promise LGBT content in LoK and canon korrassami ended up being a nice surprise even though it was minimal. that was how they SHOULD have done shiro's sexuality if they knew it was going to be a small thing. I would rather they have kept their lips zipped about LGBT, not announced gay shiro ahead of time, and just it be what it was when seasons 7 and 8 came out.

again, I dont think the bait was intentional, but it was bait all the same.

you are not crazy or too sensitive if your feelings are hurt/you feel baited by this show. you are not a shitty person if you just dont trust them right now. dont let people tell you otherwise. it's okay to take a step back from their work and wait to see how their next show plays out before you get involved.

i really do love voltron, even though s8 was confusing af, seasons 1-7 were LIT. I enjoy bits and pieces of s8 but mostly it was a let down. not only because of rep, just because a lot of things didn't make sense to me and a lot of the problem solving just felt way too convenient.

like I feel like every conflict in the plot was resolved way too easily and/or in ways that didnt make sense. and I feel like most of the characters' futures in the credits didnt really match up to those characters personalities. specifically lance, hunk, and keith.

lance staying on earth with his family, spreading allura's message to carry on her legacy? makes perfect sense, valid af. lance becoming a farmer? not so much. I feel like he would have been better suited as teaching classes as a pilot instructor at the garrison or smth similar. altean lance still gave me whiplash and left me confused af but he looks so damn 👌👌👀👀🙌🙌😭 with his cute ass altean marks that I'm just gonna let that one go for the sake of aesthetic.

hunk becoming a chef? not ooc necessarily but I feel like he would have been better suited as a diplomat. y'know. ambassador to earth sort of thing.

keith aiding in recovery efforts and being a humanitarian (...alien-itarian...? idk). okay let's be real we all knew this edgy boi has a soft ass heart. I think hes just mature enough now to let his walls come down and not be afraid of caring ig. which is sweet and nice and all. but I feel like he wouldnt...JUST be doing that. like he would still want the battle and the adrenaline and the badass mf fight sequences. that's kinda his Thing.

shiro marrying a rando? I would have preferred adam to not die and them end up getting back together once shiro returned to earth. i just feel like there was no reason to kill off adam? shiro has already suffered so much, what was the point? but i'm not gonna hate on curtis bc we dont know jackshit about him and for all we know he could be a bombass dude. shiro looked happy tho and it's better than him being forever alone so I can hesitantly accept that ig. but on one condition and one condition only: their ship name must be shirts. if their ship name is not shirts then I dont want it

allura's death was pointless. i havent seen anyone disagree with this one so far. her life was full of suffering and then she died. like can we all just agree she was done dirty and it was entirely unnecessary.

dont come @ me with "you just dont like s8 bc your ship wasnt canon"

that's not it at all.

they could have made this season so amazing and still not have made klance canon. they could have left me disappointed in no klance but still happy because the finale made my heart go dynamite BOOM. I could have ended the last episode with no canon klance and still been smiling because the plot was bitchin' and the characters were all alive and happy.

but they didnt, so I wasnt. it just...wasnt a good season. it had good aspects, yes, but as a whole? meh.

season 8 was poorly handled. it really was. it had so much potential to end with EVERY character having a positive ending and still have an actual satisfying conclusion to the war. I know they wanted to show how heavy and serious and heartbreaking the war actually was, but you can make an emotional, heavy finale without killing off a main character and leaving her main character love interest lonely and grieving. like im sorry killing allura and leaving lance sad and lonely was not necessary at all to the plot it just flat out wasnt. they did those characters dirty and they did allurance shippers even dirtier.

allurancers cheered seeing their ship canon then had it ripped out from under them and my heart honestly grieves worse for my allurance and allura stan fam than my klance fam. they did y'all so wrong and i'm sorry it had to go down like that.

sheith shippers got fucked over when all that development and relationship and growth culminated into basically nothing in the final season. like as a broganes stan even i was taken aback by the sudden radio silence between them so I cant imagine how let down actual sheith shippers feel.

us adashi shippers? obvious. adam's death was not necessary. and dont tell me it was to show the heaviness and realness of death in war because vld does NOT have a track record of dead characters staying dead. they could have at least gave us some mild development with shirts (lmfao im so sorry but shirts) and let us see more of curtis as a character. like...literally just two 60 second scenes would have been nice. they could have easily fit that in.

us klancers got fucked over by unnecessary parallels to canon ships. they could have made it a cute platonic friendship in s8 and let us enjoy it and proceed to enjoy fanon klance without all those blatant parallels to shay/hunk that just left us confused. and the parallels in earlier seasons. like why did you have to make so many parallels to romantic moments and romantic tropes if it was platonic. why did you have to go and do that. what was the point.

s8 could have ended in such a way that shippers of every ship in the fandom were satisfied with the finale because their faves were treated right and the plot was fire. it had so much potential in the first half and could have been so damn good.

it wasnt though. the entire thing was so confusing and nothing about it felt like vld. It feels like a spin off or a reboot. I dont like s8 as a whole and I doubt I ever will. it might grow on me in time but I'll never fully like it, y'know. everything about it felt so tilted and off and just wrong.

but it really just be like that sometimes ig.

#i wont be responding to comments on this #feel free to send an ask w your thoughts #but no promise i'll answer it #klance #voltron #sheith #allurance #adashi #vld

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whorderofthepheonix · 6 years

Text

Sacredly Scarred: Chapter 20 || Erik Killmonger

A/N: *sighs* may or may not be the last chapter. idk. depends on y'all. Enjoy tho. 200+ if you want the next part (and if it takes forever, Imma take forever to post ch.21 lmfaoooo) PLEASE REBLOG INSTEAD OF COMMENT xx

Words: 2k

Warnings: Swearing, Mild Violence, Vomit Warning, Lil Itty Bitty Angst, Cliff Hanger af

Erik’s POV

I pounded on the apartment door, eager for someone to answer.

“Erik, relax,” Yenai gasped. “You seem... Impatient.”

“Sorry, I just... Really want tea,” I mumbled. The door swung open and I was ready to pounce.

“Yenai! Erik!” 1 greeted. She looked fine... Like no sign of any injury or anything. Just an oversized yellow sweater and some leggings. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“Sorry to just barge in like this but Erik really wanted to join us for tea,” Yenai apologized, “and he insisted we come now.”

“Well tea’s not till 4,” she looked down at her watch. “But by all means, come in and join us for brunch! We’re out on the balcony.”

“Glady,” I pushed past them and onto the balcony. The other twin was out there, nibbling lightly on a piece of toast. She wore an identical outfit to her sister, but with a blue sweater.

“Hi Erik!” She greeted. Yenai and 1 came in soon after. “Yenai too? Are you guys joining us for brunch?”

“Yup,” I said sitting across from her.

“Splendid!” 2 clapped. “Dorota! We need 2 more plates out here please!”

“So, Yenai, I’m sorry I couldn’t talk yesterday,” 1 frowned. “We were at the Marc Jacobs fashion show. They usually confiscate phones but I snuck mine in.”

“Well, it was a good thing you were dealing with fashion because I’m working with Vogue!” Yenai squealed. The twins gasped.

“No!” 2 gasped.

“OMG how?” 1 asked.

“Remember that dress I made with the tribal prints?” They nodded. “Well they saw it and loved it and now they want to add it to the Fall collection!” The 3 of them screamed and held hands.

“Congratulations!” 2 grinned.

“Yeah, we’re totes happy for you!” 1 added.

“Thanks guys!” Yenai laughed as the maid placed plates of bagels and lox in front of us. The moment Yenai saw it, she gulped. “Um... Is this raw?”

“Smoked,” 2 declared. “But very, very lightly. I hate when it’s not chewy.” Yenai started heaving.

“You good baby?” I whispered.

“Um, yeah... It’s just the smell,” she gagged. “And the look... and... I’m just gonna use the restro-” She covered her mouth and ran back into the house.

“Is she okay?” 2 asked.

“Yeah, she just has really bad food poisoning,” I said folding my arms. “So Marc Jacobs, huh? What was that like?”

“Like all the rest,” 1 rolled her eyes. “Been to one, been to them all.” I looked behind me to make sure Yenai wasn’t in ear shot.

“Does Yenai know?” I asked. They looked at each other confused.

“Know what...? About the fashion show? We just told her,” 2 raised an eyebrow.

“Cut the shit!” I hissed. “You know damn well you weren’t at no fuckin’ fashion show last night!” 1 took out her phone and opened her snapchat.

“Look from 7:30 PM until 11:29 PM we were at the fashion show then we went to the after party,” she said. “Am I missing something?”

“Now, I’m confused...” 2 frowned. “Where did you think we were?” Maybe I got it wrong... Maybe it was just a coincidence... But I was sure it was them... I sat back in my chair and look a bite of my bagel.

“Forget it,” I sighed.

“Hey, I LOVE your watch!” 1 gasped. “Rolex Chronograph right? Our dad has the exact same one!”

“Yeah, he’s been collecting since before we were born!” 2 added. “Come, we’ll show you!” They both got up and I followed them through their bedroom and into one of the closest. A giant wall full of watches was right above a smaller case with more watches.

“There are 320,” 1 spoke. “We only take them out to wear as good luck or on Sundays to have Dorota clean them.”

“It is Sunday,” I pointed out.

“Oh fuck! It is!” 2 groaned. “I’ll get Dorota.”

“I’ll go check on Yenai,” 1 said. Then they both left the closet. I looked carefully at each watch. Ther were all accounted for. Well there goes that theory... I looked around the closer which was filled top to bottom with expensive jewelry and clothes. Just as I was about leave, one of the watches in the case caught my eye. I opened the case and picked it up. It looked almost identical to mine, it just had lower case letters instead of uppercase, like most Rolex’s do... I heard footsteps so I scurried to put back the watch, causing me to fumble and drop it on the floor. I bent down to pick it up from under the case, accidentally grabbing something else instead. A brown paper bag. I slowly opened it pulling out a bloodstained shirt and a clown mask. That’s when I heard a clicking sound from behind me and someone clearing their throat. I sighed and raised my hands in surrender, getting up and facing the door. 1 had a rifle pointed to me while 2 had her arms folded across her chest.

“Pardon me sir,” 1 smirked. “You have something that belongs to us. I’d like it back.”

“I fucking knew it,” I laughed. “So you two are the little fuckers who’ve been fucking with my assignments.”

“We haven’t been messing with anything,” 2 pointed out. “We get calls and we go. The same as you.”

“So I’m just supposed to believe that you two, fucking pris and perfect, are assassins?” I laughed.

“You’re damn right!” 1 snapped. “Now give me the fucking watch!” “Fuck no! You gave this to me and I didn’t kill ya ass!”

“You shot my sister!” 1 yelled.

“Twice!” 2 growled. “In the same spot!” “Well, I was letting you go and you threw a knife at me,” I shrugged.

“Enough fucking talking!” 1 hissed. “Hand over the watch. It was my dad’s favorite.”

“Hmm... No. Fuck you,” I dropped my hands.

“I mean it!” She shouted. “Or I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” I walked over to her. “Aside from killin’ niggas I also deal in weapons. You don’t think I know a paintball gun over an actual rifle?” She sucked her teeth and dropped it.

“Fine, whatever. I had to leave our weapons at the warehouse last night to get Ayana to the hospital,” she rolled her eyes. “Just... Please give me back the watch,” she begged. “Despite all the watches on the wall, that was the only one that belong to our dad...”

“Aight, I’ll give you back the watch, under one condition,” I smirked.

“Nigga, we are not having sex with you,” 2 crossed her arms.

“If it means getting the watch back, yes the fuck we are!” 1 glared at her.

“What the fuck? No! That’s not- Never mind,” I groaned. “I’ll give you back the watch if you agree to cut off whatever nigga you workin’ wit and work for me.”

“What?” They asked together.

“You serious?” 1 asked.

“Fuck yeah, I’m serious,” I nodded. “Y’all can fight. Plus we can use y’all for baiting niggas out.”

“He’s actually serious,” 2 gasped.

“How much money you make in a week?”

“I don’t know... 200 maybe 300 grand on a good week,” 1 shrugged.

“I once made 2 mil in one night,” I told them.

“Holy fuck!” 2 exclaimed. “2 million fucking dollars? Alyssa, do we even have to pretend to think about this?”

“Hell no!” 1 laughed extended he hand. “It’s a fucking deal!” I shook her hand and took the watch off my wrist giving it to her.

“We’re in business then,” I smirked. Then Yenai walked in, looking confused and scared.

“Um... What’s going on here?” She asked, warily.

“Nothing,” the three of us said in unison.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll pretend to believe that,” she rolled her eyes. “Girls I’m sorry, but I have really bad food poisoning and I can’t keep anything down. Erik can we go back upstairs?”

“Sure thing, baby girl,” I walked over and kiss her head. “Let’s go.”

***

I’ve had a weird feeling about Yenai since the day we had brunch with the twins. And it wasn’t just from her being sick. Like now, it was day 3 and she was STILL throwing up! She had to call in sick from work, which her boss eagerly gave her. Yenai guessed that she was still embarrassed from dinner the other night. That was the last real conversation me and Yenai had... THREE DAYS AGO! Everything else was all responses and simple questions. And when they weren’t responses or questions, they were bitchy remarks or constant nagging. I came from meeting with the Twins, whose names are apparently Ayana and Alyssa, and walked into the house.

“Baby, you home?” I called out. She walked out of the bathroom.

“Where else would I be, Erik?” She rolled her eyes. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from replying rudely.

“The twins made you soup,” I offered putting the bowl on the counter. “They said it helps nausea.”

“You were down there again?” She scoffed. “You’ve literally been down to see them everyday since brunch!”

“Is that a problem?” I asked, folding my arms.

“If you previously hadn’t tried to fuck them then no, it wouldn’t be,” she snapped, taking the bowl of soup and throwing it in the trash.

“Yo, the FUCK is ya problem, Yenai?” I shouted as she retreated to the bedroom. I followed her and closed the door.

“My problem Erik, is that instead of staying here and making sure that I’M okay, you’re off galavanting with MY friends!” She shouted back.

“Well maybe I’d want to be around her more if you weren’t being such a bitch to me all the fuckin’ time!”

“Oh word?! I’m a bitch now? Riiiigggghhhhttttt! Copy!” She stormed into the closet and started grabbing her clothes off the hangers. I took a deep breath and leaned against the closet door.

“What are you doing?” I groaned.

“Since I’m such a fuckin’ bitch, there’s no use in me staying, right?” She shrugged, opening a duffle bag and stuffing the clothes in.

“So first of all, ya ass don’t got a place to go, so let’s cut that shit out aight?” I took the duffle from her. “Secondly, you gon just pack a bag and leave every time we get into an argument? You gon be doin’ a lot of packin’ and unpackin’ ma, I’ll tell you that.”

“Fuck you,” she spat pushing past me, going back into the bedroom. I grabbed her wrist. “Get the fuck off me.”

“Nah, you not goin’ nowhere till we deal with this shit, Yenai. I’m not bouta keep quiet everytime you snap at me or yell wit ya stank ass attitude. We gon sit down and talk like fuckin’ adults.”

“I have nothing to say-”

“The fuck you don’t!” I snorted. “You got allat mouth when I try to help you and now you got nothin’ to say. Nah.” I wrapped my arms around her. “Tell me what’s on ya mind, baby girl.”

“Get off me,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“No. Talk to me,” I insisted. She looked at me with tears in her eyes. “DId I do something wrong?”

“No,” she sniffled, letting tears fall. “You didn’t... I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch...”

“It’s aight... I’m not bouta force you to tell me what’s wrong, but we can’t keep goin’ like this, Yenai...” I sighed. “When you ready, you gon tell me right?” She shut her eyes and shook her head.

“I can’t! I can’t tell you!” She cried. “I’m scared...”

“Why can’t you tell me? What’s scaring you?” I asked cautiously. She kept shaking her head, sobbing.

“I can’t...”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t! I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!”

“Yenai-”

“No, Erik! Just stop! Please!”

“Baby, please talk to me-”

“Erik!’ “Why are you so scared?!”

“BECAUSE I THINK I’M PREGNANT, OKAY?!” She screamed. I heart stopped and my blood turned cold. “...I think I’m pregnant and I’m scared...” She whispered. “I’m so fucking scared...”

~~~

Tag List: @kzmiaz13 @marysxo @forbeautyandlife @blackandfair @imdiirtydan @theunsweetenedtruth @Maya-leche @fromthebaytola @jennxgold @supernovaah @hidden-treasures21 @shame-full-love @queenshxt-only @cutewylie @pupyluv247 @elegantd @namelesslosers @sociallyawkward18 @pandagirl200 @chelledallas @thatbish27 @janellemonaenae @blaq-gyal @ironsquad @godhatesyouandi @bigdaddythraxxx @cocooned-butterfly @someareblindtoitsbeauty @84eix @sincerelyroxxie @i-am-shee @thadelightfulone @depressed-little-shadow @vikkidc @keonaforever21 @keairadiamond @plushthighs @itsjustshanie @ovohanna24 @getyourfandomon (the rest is in the comment section)

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themalicealyce · 5 years

Text

Sarcasm and Puns: Chapter Four

Summary: You're an introverted person, have been all of your life but it wasn't as if you were shy, you were just content to have your only friends be your brother and your roommate. Though when your brother's young daughter makes friends with the human ambassador of monsters you open up to the idea of having a larger group of friends.

Rating: M

Waking up late on a Saturday was probably one of the most beautiful feelings you could think of. The sheer number of weekdays you had to lay in bed trying to gather the motivation needed to get dressed and go to work was getting kind of sad, so the few extra hours of sleep you got on your days off was a luxury you never skipped out on. It was sometime in the early afternoon and the sun had started to warm the room. The mild heat seeped through the window, rousing you from slumber. Golden light flooded into the dark room in columns, specks of dust floated and danced suspended in the beams. Not quite fully awake and exceedingly comfortable you wanted to roll over and sleep just a little longer, though the tiny little paw that landed on your face seemed to disagree. Hemlock mewed and stood on you, now with both front paws on your face and his hind legs on your collarbone. You groaned tiredly at him and he mewled back in pseudo conversation. You guessed it was feeding time and your stomach rumbled in sympathy at the thought of food. You found yourself hungry enough to drag yourself out of bed regardless of the tempting warmth of your blankets, so still in your fluffy pajama pants and an over-sized t-shirt you stumbled out of your room.

As soon as your door opened, Hemlock took off like a bullet to where you assumed your roommate had filled his food bowl. With your hair a mess and mismatched socks lazily pulled on you found your way to the living room which had been restored to its normal halfway presentable state. Your yawn stretched out for so long that your ribs hurt as you rubbed sleep out of your eyes. You looked around and saw Vincent already awake and wrapped up like a burrito in his blanket with an overfull plate of microwaved pizza rolls. The sofa was plush, and a homey olive-green color complemented by his bright purple blanket that he was snuggled into so deeply that you would have to use a crowbar to pry him out it.

"Mornin'" You grumbled, mouth dry from sleep, not ready for full sentences yet. Slinking past him on your way to the kitchen.

"Good morning!" He sung, his eyes briefly leaving the tv screen flicking up at you before shoving more food in his face. "If you say so." You replied lazily, bones cracking pleasantly as you paused to stretch before continuing on your way.

Shuffling out of the room, you went into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl out of the cabinet, letting it clatter on the counter. You abandoned it to shuffle over to the pantry to get your cereal. You chuckled slightly as poured your bowl nearly full to the brim of Captain Crunch, amused at the knowledge that your grocery list and eating habits haven't really changed much since college. Crossing the kitchen, you opened the refrigerator, the dim light bulb inside clicking on and bathing you in florescent light as you heard your friend moving around from behind you.

"Why is the fridge full of girl scout cookies and rum?" You asked the room flatly, the fact that this kind of behavior is losing its ability to shock you probably meant something, but you decided not to open that can of worms today.

"I went shopping." he shrugged as if it was obvious as he stood in the doorway, having abandoned his blanket and carrying his now empty plate.

"I'm not even mad, when I get home from dinner wanna crack one of these open?" You asked grabbing the milk, having to Jenga it out of the fridge around the new items.

"Oh, hell yes! Pick up soda for rum and cokes on the way back?"

You nodded as you poured the milk into your cereal and Vincent put his plate in the sink with a careless clatter, quickly returning back to his nest of blankets on the couch.

When you remembered the dinner that you had at Toriel's tonight, you suddenly remembered Gabriel had of course signed you up to bring cookies. You rolled your eyes at the memory. Oh well, you figured it gave you a chance to bake which you hardly ever did. "You want to help me make cookies?" you asked immediately hearing the excited consent from the other room.

His easy enthusiasm made you smile as you brought your late breakfast into the living room, shooing him to his own side of the sofa as you ate and pulled out your 3DS, flicking on a puzzle game you’d gotten ridiculously obsessed with. One section had been really breaking your brain and you really wanted to get past it. You managed some progress over the hour or so, but you had once again become hopelessly stuck. You growled at the game in irritation. You loved puzzles, but maze sections were the worst.

Switching off the game soon after your lazy breakfast, you decided you needed to get started baking so you could get ready to go to this dinner thing since it was already getting a bit late. Eager to be of some help in the kitchen, especially with the promise of cookies, Vincent agreed to do your prep work. He was about five feet of pure, concentrated energy flitting around the kitchen setting it up for you while you looked through your stuff for your mom’s chocolate chip cookie recipe.

“Found it!” You smiled, holding it aloft like a Zelda treasure chest item.

“FUCK! I remember those. Why don’t you ever make those?!” Vincent asked incredulously, snatching the paper from your hands, scanning the list of ingredients.

“First of all, you have to stop snatching shit out of my hands you brat. Secondly, I’m not my mom I’m not here to bake your cookies and pinch your cheeks.” You rolled your eyes taking the paper back from him. “Ugh, then what good are you?” he teased back playfully.

“Well, with me around you can get drunk and cuss and I don’t nag you about bedtimes.” You answered back automatically as you preheated the oven. You looked over to him “You going to actually help or…?” you asked. He nodded eagerly.

Once you started baking you realized Vincent wanted to help by trying to incorporate Mettaton style cooking flourishes to your dish and it became a harder task to keep him focused instead of dancing around posing for a nonexistent camera. You had to snatch the glitter out of his hand as he tried to sneak it into your dough.

“But it’ll make it all pretty!” He whined.

“This is craft glitter! It’s not even edible glitter you heathen!” You argued back putting the bottle on top of the fridge and out of reach of his short arms. He huffed but got over it quickly when you let him eat some of the uncooked dough.

You didn't bake often, or cook really for that matter, but when you did you liked to do so from scratch and every time you left the counters gritty, dusted in a fine mixture of flour and sugar. Vincent didn’t help matters either, when he helped he turned things from messy to a disaster. This time was no different. He now sat on the one countertop by the sink you didn't bother to use, holding a cookie in between his hands looking extremely proud of himself as if surveying the damage that he caused. Still, the cookies turned out great, and he managed to arrange them on a platter without eating them all, so you’d take the nightmare mess in stride. His legs dangled over the edge, nowhere near reaching the floor, making him look even shorter and younger than normal.

Now that you were done you checked your phone. The time had snuck up on you. It was close to the time to go, and the reality of the situation was starting to dawn on you. You have never really gone to a dinner party before, and you were starting to feel like a high schooler meeting a boyfriend's family for the first time. It wasn't like you had experienced that a lot as a teenager, but you still remember the nervous mess you became when trying to impress someone. Frowning down at your dirtied pajamas, your nose scrunched up and you groaned starting to feel tendrils of panic rising.

"What do you even wear to a dinner like this?" You asked more to yourself than Vincent tugging at the hem of your shirt. "Yes, ask the guy who has a panic attack when he has to order in a restaurant about what to do in social situations." He rolled his eyes at you wiping crumbs off his jeans.

"Well aren't you helpful?" You sighed.

"Just throw something somewhat decent together I guess. I don't know." He shrugged.

"And here I was planning on lingerie and a t shirt proclaiming my satanic intentions." You sarcastically intoned.

"Hot. Which I guess works out for you since it's so chilly out!" He couldn't keep the silly little smile he got when he told a bad joke off his face. "Nope, nope if you're going to start with that I'm out. Imma go get dressed." You waved your arms at him in an overly exaggerated manner fleeing the room turning back and pointed an accusing finger at him. "And don't eat all the cookies while I'm gone." "Oh come on, that would be a real CRUMBY thing to do!" He had started to giggle at his own bad pun. "Bad! Bad Vincent. No!" You scolded as you left, retreating to your room.

You could hear Vincent laughing to himself and shuffling around the kitchen all the way back into your bedroom. Once you were there you put your phone down and flung open your closet door to find it mostly full of jeans and work shirts like you expected. You didn't think it was formal enough occasion to wear any of the clothes you wear to work and your t shirts seemed too casual. You sighed and glared at the clothes as if it were their fault you were under prepared for this situation. Pushing through your clothes in search of something you wouldn't feel too awkward wearing you knew you had to have something stored away that would useful.

Lost in deep thought you jumped away from your closet nearly falling on your ass when a loud sound blared suddenly. Quickly you recognized the noise breaking the quiet as the Tardis landing sound from Doctor Who. For a moment you were very confused until you noticed the noise that was playing out of your phone from the nightstand was your brother's ringtone. Taking a moment to be slightly disappointed that David Tennant wasn't here to take you away you answered your phone, propping it up in between your shoulder and ear as you went back to searching through your clothes.

"So are you still planning on coming or are you going to hide and try to will this away because I will pick your lock." Gabriel asked when you picked up your phone, not even bothering to say hello.

You rolled your eyes, you could hear his smirk over the phone. "You have a key you know."

"Yeah, but that is not nearly as fun." He sing-songed.

"So how is Morrigan handling the situation?" You asked, quick to change the subject and hoping that he didn't actually latch on to the idea of trying to pick your lock, you really didn’t want to have that conversation with your landlord.

"She has been throwing nearly her entire wardrobe around her room trying to pick out an outfit. And of course, she doesn't want my help. I didn't even realize she owned so many dresses." Gabriel chuckled, clearly amused by his daughter's antics.

"Yeah, who would have thought that you of all people would raise a messy kid." your toned dripped with sarcasm thinking back on how you two must have made your mom's life a nightmare when you were little.

"Hey, she's better than me when it comes to cleaning her room, it's starting to make me look bad." He admitted.

"You don't need anyone's help to make you look bad." You retorted as you dug deeper in your closet unearthing the very few dresses you owned stuffed in the back you scanned them, picking out a sweater dress that went down to just above your knees, it was warm, soft, and medium grey color. "Aha!" you called out triumphantly as you pulled it off the hanger.

"What are you 'aha'ing at? Finally beat that puzzle game you've been sucking at?" Gabriel asked teasingly.

You groaned suddenly remembering that hard maze puzzle you were stuck on in your game. "You dick, now that's going to bug me all night!"

You could hear him laughing loudly over the phone as you shut your closet, causing you to glare harder as if he was there to see how annoyed you were at him. When Gabriel calmed down you shared a quick conversation about when he would pick you up and you hung up so you could get ready.

#undertale #undertale fanfiction #sans #sans x reader #sansxreader #sans/reader #slow burn #fluff and angst #chapter four

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ellana-ravenwood · 7 years

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Take care of my Babies or you’ll die - Wonder Woman x Reader

Summary : Diana has a deep distrust of Men’s World’s doctors, and have trouble letting them handle her pregnant girlfriend.

I lost the original message but this story is for @freethecagedeggs. Also, Imma indulge @loverandomness2 because she’s been asking for this for a long time and I’m finally writing it :-).

PART 2

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

_________________________________________________

You couldn’t wait for all of this to be over.

For the baby to finally arrive.

Not because pregnancy was displeasing, in fact, you were one of those lucky women that had a smooth one.

You only had a few morning sickness, you weren’t too tired, it didn’t hurt much (yet)...The only thing you had was your weird cravings but, then again, pickles and ice cream was a thing you ate together even before being pregnant.

Nope. You don’t want all of this to be over because it’s difficult and tiring...But because your damn girlfriend cannot give you or anyone approaching you of a few feet a single break !

“(Y/N), don’t do this it could hurt the baby !”, “(Y/N) eat this it’s good for the baby”, “(Y/N), please babe, do this exercice it’s good for our little one”...The worst was how annoying she became whenever you had a doctor appointment.

Oh. My. God.

************

When you and Diana decided to become parents, you settled for a sperm donor instead of adoption, because it was just easier, it would take less time and trouble...You also decided that you should be the one bearing the child, kind of unsure how things would work with Diana (after all, she had been made out of clay and given life by Zeus...).

At first, everything went smoothly.

You were both just too damn excited. And all your friends were extremely supportive. Of course they were.

Your older brother, Bruce, helped you through so many hard times in your life, he definitely wasn't about to give up on you (no matter what some stuck up rich people thought about him for doing so...damn you guys lived in the XXIst century, what was the problem of a same sex couple adopting ?!), and he would never admit it because he wasn’t the cheesy type of man but...He already loved his future nephew/niece deeply.

The day he brought you a teddy bear that looked astonishingly like the one you had when you were a kid, that exact teddy bear your dad gave you to “help you through any difficult times” (and it really did...whenever you were sad, for example missing your parents dearly, you’d hug the hell out of that bear and it would make you feel so much better), and when Bruce told you it was difficult to find the same one you had as a kid and it took him a lot of time and effort to do so, but you and your future child were definitely worth it...You teared up. You lied by saying your hormones were messing around with your emotions, and acted like it was not a big deal but...It meant the world that your beloved older brother would go through all that trouble just for a teddy bear for your baby.

Alfred also made you tear up when he started to cry and oh god, the hug he gave you was the best you ever received...And you could have smothered your nephews to death with the embrace you gave them when they got all excited and cute about having a cousin...

Clark made a joke about how your son/daughter could join his boy, Jon, and your brother’s son, Damian, to form a new trinity and...The look Diana gave them shut them up.

She had NO INTENTION on letting her baby get in any danger, which meant she’d never train her or him to fight, just to defend herself/himself. This made your eyes roll so hard. If your future child was going to be anything like you or Diana, you just knew she or he couldn’t keep away from fighting for what was right for long. You wouldn’t be surprise to see him/her actually forming a new trinity with your best friends’ children, and becoming a mighty...your girlfriend was having none of it.

No. Her kid was NOT going to fight. Ever. Nope. Double nope. By Hades she would never allow it. When you told her though, that she sounded exactly like her mother, she stopped talking about it, but you knew she really had her mind settled on the “no fighting for my baby” thing. And deep down, you wished your future child would indeed never have to fight, but you also knew that it was somehow inevitable with parents like hers/his.

************

The day of your first doctor appointment was an absolute nightmare. You had fought ALL DAY about it with Diana. She wanted you to go to Themyscira with her so that the healers over there could take care of you but no, you were having none of that...What, the only babies they helped gave birth to were made of clay ! Hell they actually never helped anyone to give birth ! Nope, you were going to a “normal” doctor, and that was that.

Sitting in the car your brother rented for you (with a chauffeur and all), she was pouting next to you, arms crossed, and was looking away from you.

-Diana, how long are you going to act like a damn child ?

-I’m acting like a child ?! You’re acting like a child (Y/N) !

-No, you’re the 3000 years old immature one right now !

-Oh don’t “3000 years old” me I have reasons not to trust your doctors !

-They’re not just my doctors, and go ahead then, tell me your reasons !

When you see her face changing from a mild annoyance to pure sadness, you immediately regret asking her...And when she tells you, you feel like a total asshole :

-It’s...it’s just that...During wars...During the first and second World War, doctors would make decisions that I did not agree with. They would decide to cut someone’s limbs off while it could still be saved, they would decide to stop trying to revive someone while he still had a chance, they would...They would play God, and I do not like that. I know they had tough decisions to make, but they could have...they could have...I don’t know...

Your hand on her thigh startles her, as she got lost (once again) in the dark thoughts of what she witnessed during the two great wars. You know she still suffers from PTSD, though since she got with you it’s better...

-Diana, my love, I don’t...I Can’t...I can’t imagine what you and your friends went through during those wars. I know..I know you lost a lot of people, I know you still miss them, especially Steve but...Things have changed. I’m not going to go see a doctor and they’ll decide to just like, get rid of the baby or something. They’re not in a rush anymore. And they’re mostly good people who do that because it’s their passion to help others...Please, trust me babe.

Her hand covering yours on her thigh, and squeezing it lightly is the only response she can give you right now. And the love shining in her eyes is enough. Of course she’ll trust you. If you say it’s ok, then so be it...She twists her body in her seat to go and kiss you, and you respond eagerly.

And in a second, all her worries are gone, even the memories of the man she used to love, Steve Trevor, fade away, as there’s only you that counts now. You, and your future child. And oh how sweet your kiss was...

************

You thought you managed to reassure her. You though she’d be fine. But oh you were wrong.

The first appointment went well, as the doctor didn’t really had to touch you. He explained how the future 9 months would unfold, and you listened intently. You had to admit that it was kind of funny to see Diana, in your peripheral vision, glare at your gynecologist. You were pretty sure she didn’t listen to a word he had to say, as she was too focus on sending murderous looks his way.

It confused greatly your nice doctor, and when you both left and Diana whispered (unknowing of you of course) : “If you hurt in any way my wife or my baby, I’ll kill you”, he freaked out a little bit.

Diana was already quite protective of you usually but oh, oh the fact that you were now bearing her child made everything worst. You were pretty sure that if she could put mattresses on the floor everywhere you went so that you could never hurt yourself, she would do it.

It was awful. And it got even worst when your brother and nephews joined in. Only Alfred was treating like before. But oh your family ? They were driving you crazy with all their worries and such.

Whenever someone came in a radius of 1 foot of you, Diana would glare at them and scare them away (you still remember that poor waitress that ran away because Diana send her a murderous gaze while all she wanted was fill your coffee cup)...She was turning into some kind of monster because of all of this. Your sweet, naive and nice girlfriend was in full on “I need to protect my babies” mode. Primal instinct took over her and...god you hated it.

You always hated the fact that your brother would always somehow protect you, so now that it was your girlfriend, your girlfriend that always knew you could defend yourself so far ? It was tough.

She never felt the need to protect you. You were, after all, the Batman’s sister, and his equal. She knew you could handle yourself. But now that you were pregnant ? Her eyes were on you each steps you took, just to make sure you’d be safe...And your brother was giving her tips as to how to do it without you noticing much ! AND THE FOOLS THOUGHT YOU WERE ACTUALLY NOT NOTICING THEIR LITTLE GAME !! OH MY GOD IT WAS MADDENING !

************

And Diana was still wary of doctors.

She almost broke the end of the one that was following you when he went to touch your belly that was starting to swell up...

Oh and the freak out she had when you took the first ultra-sound. You explained to her what it was, and yet...Still freaking out.

-WHAT IS THIS ?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY BABY ?!

The doctor was so frightened that he didn’t even had the strength to answer (her freak out had been going out for a good twenty minutes already) and so, with a sigh and a look of apology to the man, you said :

-I told you Diana, it’s ok, it’s nothing. Just an ultra-sound, it...

-An ultra-son ? We’re having a boy ? What does it mean for him to be “ultra” ? And what...

With another roll of your eyes, you cut her off before she looses it and say :

-Ultra-sounD. It’s just to check if the baby is ok.

-...How ?

You look at the doctor, who was just looking at you two, completely stunned (on what kind of crazy people did he fell that time ?), and after a few seconds of you and your girlfriend staring at him, he understands that he has to talk...And so he does. He explains exactly what an ultra sound is, and Diana calms down.

She actually looks genuinely interested. Though whenever the doctor touches you she gives him very dirty looks, when he points out your baby, your little one;..You can visibly see a tear in her eyes.

************

A boy. It’s a boy.

And so it seems like the Waynes’ will only have boys in the family...You’re totally fine with that. Besides, if you ever decide to have another kid, maybe it’ll be a girl ?

By now Diana is reassured about the ultra-sounds but...Whenever the doctor do something she deem suspicious, she gets between him and you and, because she’s a damn tall woman and your doctor is ridiculously short, she stares him down and ask a detailed explanation of what he’s about to do before letting him do anything...It’s cute and very annoying at the same time.

Fortunately, you fell on the only doctor probably that went along and explained each time, very patiently and all, as he understood by now that if she reacted that way it was because she was very worried for you and the baby (though he still didn’t get why she kept referring to him as a “Men’s World’s doctor”...).

He had to admit though, there were few moments he was genuinely scared for his life, but whenever “Diana” was getting a bit too extreme, too protective, too questioning..You’d set her straight and, with a kiss to her forehead or cheek or even lips, she’d calm down completely and be relaxed for the rest of the appointment.

It like you were magical, the only one that could soothe her...and that’s exactly what you were. Diana would have never accepted any “Men’s World’s doctors” to take care of the birth of her baby, not after what she saw during the wars, and she “endured” it only for you, because she loved you too damn much and the power you had over her should frighten her but...it just seemed to make her feel happier than ever.

************

You’re both wrapped around each other, her arms slumped around you shoulders, legs tangled, your face in the crook of her neck and hers buried in your hair when...A weird wet sensation and a brutal shift in your attitude wakes her up.

-The baby is coming.

Is the only thing you have to tell her before, without thinking, she takes your suitcase you both prepared for the hospital, and, wrapping you in your robe, flies out of the window and takes you to the nearest hospital. Thanks god there was no witness or camera around...

************

Thankfully, Bruce arrived shortly after (the news quickly spread through Gotham City, that (Y/N) Wayne was in the hospital giving birth to a new member of the famous family), and was there to calm Diana down.

Him and your nephews had to jump on her to stop her from bursting in the delivery room, and they only succeeded because Bruce told her that it would be dangerous to enter the place without being sterilized before !

But your screams (you arrived too late for an epidural anesthesia) were a torture to her, and oh she wanted to run into the room to kick everyone’s ass for not helping you better !! She sat on the floor, wrapping herself in her arms, knees to her chin, trying to ignore your screams of pain, that reminded her way too much of what she heard on the battlefield...

Thankfully, your brother was there, and your nephews too. They gave her their support. They gave their “sister” and aunt all their love, all their attention. Hugging her close to their heart, making sure she’d feel better as you were giving birth to your first child.

************

-Can we...Can we call him Thomas ? Like my father...

You ask shyly. You two never actually discussed name and you were somewhat afraid that she’d refused but...of course she doesn’t. She understands. She knows how close you were from your dad, how much you miss him even now, years and years after his death...And so, Thomas it is.

Thomas Steven Prince-Wayne.

It’s a ridiculously long name. But oh it fits him so well. It’s a royal name, and it’s perfect for him. Him and his tiny hands that already tries to grab everything...

Thomas Steven Prince-Wayne.

The name makes headline of every newspaper the next day.

His eyes are already opening, and he reacts each time he ears you or Diana. He visibly moves whenever his mothers’ voice resonate in the room...Each times, it makes him fall asleep peacefully.

He doesn’t cry, and you’re convinced it’s because of the Teddy Bear Bruce brought...He doesn’t cry, and Diana is sure it’s because he takes after your calm nature. He doesn’t cry and it worries the both of you a bit but...

It’s a perfectly healthy boy.

Thomas Steven Prince-Wayne.

When Diana holds him for the first time, when the doctor she distrusted so much finally puts him in her arms...She’s speechless.

Her son. It’s her son...Her tiny baby...

She already loves him more than anything else in the world (except for you maybe), and when she whispers a low “thank you” to the doctor she despised all those months, he knows why he’s doing this job.

She tries her best not to cry, but she cannot help it.

Sitting on the side of your bed, she cries. Cries and cries some more as she holds her tiny son against her heart.

You wipe her tears with the tip of your fingers, weak, but not weak enough to not care for her, and as she lays her boy back in his crib because he fell asleep as she was whispering words of love to him, she lays down besides you and you two fall asleep in each others’ arms.

Thomas Steven Prince-Wayne.

A ridiculously long name. For a boy destined to do ridiculously great things.

Fin (?).

________________

I’m afraid I got Diana out of character, and I feel like I didn’t make the relationship between Diana and reader sweet or believable enough...And afraid that meh. It’s kind of a mess. Uh. UH. Thanks for reading anyway...Hope you aren’t disappointed.

Also I have another request with the sentence starter “where is our child” with Wonder Woman, and should I use this particular kid, Thomas, or start from scratch ? You choose. Basically, do you want a “part 2″ ?

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seenashwrite · 6 years

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SNIPED (Part Two)

Status: Complete (Part 2 of 5) Word Count: 8K Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit for Adult Themes including - Graphic sexual situations; Mild-to-moderate violence; Coarse language Categories: Drama; Action; Romance; Porn-with-Plot; Smut; On-the-hunt Character(s): Dean; Sam; Reader/O.C. Female; Jody; Crowley [briefly]; Alex & Claire [mentioned]; Castiel [mentioned] Pairings: Dean x Reader/OC Female [Pts. 2 & 5]; Sam x Reader/OC Female [Pt. 3] Warning(s): See “Rating” section above Author’s Note(s): see Part One Overall Summary: The Winchesters receive assistance on their case from a sniper. Part Two Summary: Stuck in the bunker for the night following her confrontation with Dean, the sniper's past continues to invade her present.

|| SNIPED Master Post ||

"Thought you could use this," Dean said, stepping just inside before stopping, looking at me cautiously.

He was holding one of the two small glasses he carried out in my direction. I took it, then lifted it higher, sniffing. I glanced up at him, knowing I had a pleased look on my face.

"Wow. Thanks, that's... wow."

Dean didn't really smile but his eyes twinkled, a touch of creasing at the corners. "Yeah, a little birdie up north mentioned it to me. Said if you came through for us, we should reward you."

"Oh, really?" I asked, feeling a grin come to my lips. I took a sip. It was whiskey, but really top shelf. As in, look at the top shelf at any bar or restaurant, then say to the bartender - No. The other top shelf. The one in the back. That was my brand. Because I was an unapologetic snob on this matter.

"We got you a bottle," Dean reported.

"The big bottle?"

He nodded.

"No, not the size you're probably thinking of, I mean the big economy size bottle, for a family of six, the size housewives would get at Costco if they sold it."

Dean grinned, too. "We're talking the same bottle. It was stashed in the weapons locker of the trunk. I doubled-back after you and Sammy left the garage."

"That right?"

He nodded. "I was pissed. Thought I'd make a healthy dent in it, maybe fill it back up with some rotgut, really piss you off while I was at it."

"Ha!" I blurted out, throwing my head back a little. I laughed. I genuinely laughed, and informed him, “Next go-round, even if I’m the cause of it, if your kind of misery loves company, feel free to come sit by me anytime. I gotcha covered.”

Dean's face fell a little then, but mine hadn't, I was in a pretty great mood as I continued to sip on the drink. I swallowed, eyeing him. “What?" I finally asked him. "What is your deal, man?”

He narrowed his eyes, then rolled them, turned to walk away. "Never mind," he mumbled.

Oh, for...

I grabbed his bicep and he stopped, let himself be turned back toward me. We looked at each other for a moment, then I took a deep breath. I was shitty at conversation, and I was even shittier at apologies. I exhaled, hoping it didn't sound like a huff. “I am… Dean, I’m a difficult person. I know this. Many, many other people know this. Trust me, I could be off-putting long before my husband got possessed and my life imploded.”

A spark of understanding... or something that at least wasn't anger... crossed over his face. Okay. Score. I wasn't striking out. It was just the top of the first, but who was counting?

I was. Me. I was counting. It's what I did. I always knew how many rounds I had left, how many my partner had left, how many that other dude over there had left. Curse/blessing.

"And I'm defensive to a fault. I can get bitchy and bossy when it comes to things I know damn well I'm good at. But..." I trailed off a little, glancing around the room, finally landing on the pool of brown liquid in the glass I held, before raising my eyes to his again. "But I'm loyal. I am fiercely loyal. I'd take a bullet for Jody. And I mean it: any time you and Sam need a crack shot, I'll be there." I paused, holding up the glass a bit. "There will possibly be a small fee next time..."

Dean chuckled.

"...but I'll be there. Assuming you can tolerate me. And I can bring my own wheels. And you stay the fuck out of my perch."

Now he full-on laughed, and I joined in. Then we clinked glasses and drank a little more. This next part was going to suck. I looked down at one of the Cookie Monster faces on my feet.

"You, um... I've been harsh with you," I admitted. Ugh, my voice sounded so tiny and weak in my head. "There's just something in your very nature that reminds me of... you just... jerk me back in time to..."

Mother-effing-stupid-stupid-STUPID tear ducts, how did I have any tears left. I raised my head then, rolling my eyes heavenward, as if gravity would defy itself, or something above me would suck the moisture out of my eyes.

"Anyway I'm sorry," I finished in a rush, lowering my gaze, flying straight past his face, focusing on my glass so I could get it to my mouth and not ram it into my chin. I chugged the rest of my drink, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. A tiny sniffle got away from me. I dared to look at him once more.

Dean had an unreadable expression at first, then it turned to being a bit amused. He shrugged, following my lead, downing the rest of his drink in one gulp. He took my glass from me, set both it and his on the nearby desk.

"That is a waste," I was commenting as he turned back around, "I mean, it really is a sipping kind of----" I cut myself off. I couldn't finish. My breath had been taken away.

Dean had come in close, closer than I'd gotten to him back in the car, and this time he did manage to sneak his hands up, holding either side of my face, brushing traitorous tears away with his thumbs. Tingly chills ran all over me, everywhere.

Everywhere.

I thought he might kiss me, and I didn't know what to do with that. Truly. It had been so long since I'd kissed anyone - I mean really kissed anyone - that I felt for sure I'd likely regressed. Jody'd drilled into me all that keeping-my-skills-honed crap, and god help me, I was starting to regret not honing these skills with a few meaningless bar pick-ups a year. I'd left a trail of motels and condoms in my wake after my back had healed, but... that had been many moons ago. I wouldn't mind a good hate fuck. Dean just didn't seem to be on the same page, because he did not go for my mouth, apparently having other ideas.

Keeping the pressure feather-light, he kissed my forehead; I let my eyes close.

Left eye lid.

Left temple.

Tip of nose.

Right jaw line.

I was growing so relaxed at this point, I actually swayed a little. A few more tears slipped out on their own. Dean kissed those away, too. I felt his lips brush against mine on his way to capture the last renegade tear on the opposite side of my face, and I jumped away so abruptly, I caused our foreheads to knock together.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered, then he seemed to catch himself, even though what he'd said didn't bother me - I was thinking the exact same thing. "You okay?" he asked me.

I had one hand up on my hip, the other raised and rubbing my forehead. One socked foot had started tapping nervously. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror; it looked like I was mentally trying to name all the state capitals in backwards alphabetical order, my face was so pinched. "I'm... ah... need to... to go," I managed.

"Go?" he repeated.

I sprang to life, going over to the bed, grabbing the shirts and the socks and the underwear, everything, quickly stuffing it all back in the bag. "Imma go take a shower," I said really fast, snatching up the backpack and holding it tight against me like it was a newborn, brushing against him as I got the hell outta Dodge.

STRIKE ONE! called the umpire in my mind.

"Oh shut up," I hissed.

I almost sprinted to the bathroom.

Sam was just setting a pile of towels on a chair that I suppose had come from - oh who cared where it came from, I just wanted him to go away. He had a shirt and pajama pants thrown over one shoulder. I tossed my bag by the chair, started unbuttoning my pants.

"Okay, so here's this and these - whoa," Sam said, blinking in surprise at me.

I paused in my undressing, snatching the pants from him. "Just need these everything else is perfect thank you so much you're the best," I said quickly, the word vomit coming back with a passion.

He didn't come out of his trance til I smiled and gave the doorway an obvious glance. "Well just... I guess just call out if you need anything else," he told me, making his way towards the door.

"This is perfect!" I repeated.

After Sam left, I leaned against the tile, letting myself slowly slide down. I winced a little from my sore back. Shit. Shitty shit shit. The stress was swirling, starting to ball up into knots. I would compensate so much for the nerve pain that I would never realize until too late that the musculature, the tendons, the ligaments - I'd pushed them to the max, and locking up was their ever-so-kind way of saying thank you.

I went through the stack Sam had left - huh, how about that, men living alone who had hand towels. New one for me. And he'd left such an unnecessary amount of washcloths, I wondered how dirty he thought I was. I looked down at myself.

Answer: possibly beyond hope.

I took the stack, set it on a sink, moved the chair near the closest shower to the door. I planned on having my back to the shower head, keeping the entry point within my sight, just like I did in restaurants and anywhere else I wasn't alone. I picked up a towel and washcloth to bring back over; then, on second thought, went ahead and picked up the whole shebang. As I assembled my toiletries, it occurred to me that everything I had was scentless - more old habits that wouldn’t die. The soap, the lotion, the deodorant, even the lip balm. It was just good practice. We had to concentrate on our surroundings, always, any distraction was unacceptable. I got used to the nothingness.

My husband had bought me perfume for an anniversary once when we were still dating. I remember giving him a look when I saw the box. But then I'd smelled it, and it was heaven in a bottle. So faint, so airy, such barely-there perfection. I'd sprayed it between my breasts. Then I'd climbed on his lap. We'd made love right there on the sofa, not even bothering to get undressed all the way. I would always associate that smell with that night. It still made me nauseated to get a whiff of it whenever I’d pass by someone wearing it.

I'd brought the bottle with me the first time I'd been able to go to the range after the surgeons cleared me for some basic activity, though I’m sure my idea of basic was hell and gone from their other patients. The owner of the range knew me, knew what happened, felt sorry for me, and let me in before they opened one morning. I'd chucked that bottle as far up and out as I could, kept the rifle lowered til the last second. Nailed it with a .44, turning it into powder. Annie Oakley, eat your heart out.

I stripped out of my nasty, sweaty clothing, tossing it to the side. I noted I’d absently brought the Glock out, too, set in within my reach on top of the towel before I caught what I'd done. Didn't need that here, I reminded myself as I put it away. Our wedding bands, and that - always on me. Always a motivator, and always something to blow the next one to back to hell should one of the bastards want another dance.

The water was hot. I went through every washcloth, scrubbing my reddened skin til it stung, moving at a brisk pace. Practically clawed at my scalp, washing my hair twice. Shaved everywhere, wanting to make sure every possible bit of the dirt and sweat of the past few days was gone. Went so fast on my legs, I nicked my ankles.

I bent over at the waist when I was satisfied with my level of cleanliness. Letting the stress out with a stretch, letting the water pound my back, letting myself sink til my fingertips drug the floor. Watched the little trails of blood blend with the soapy water, swirl down the drain. As I stood, I let my hands drift up, run over my inner thighs, then higher. Just a brief touch; I didn't have time for that now.

Sam's towels were slightly rough, but I didn't care. I stood naked by the chair for a moment, enjoying the coolness as the steam faded, applying the lotion quickly, then pulling on my underwear. The briefs were snug against my silk-smooth pussy, though they were a little too tight against my ass; probably should've thought to upgrade their size, too.

After some fierce squeezing, I pulled my hair back up into a topknot. The hairs escaping from the ponytail holder still dripped a little onto the collar of the shirt when I pulled it over my head. But oh god, how good it felt to just have thin cotton against my breasts. The thick sports bra I'd been wearing had been almost rib-crushing. I had to roll the waistband of the flannel pajama pants; they were Dean's, I could tell. My husband and I were almost exactly the same height, hence my ability to manage wearing his old cargos without tripping. A pair of Sam's would've been far too long.

Back in the room, I found myself smiling, noting my lone glass on the desk, with a nearly-full whiskey bottle now beside it. I threw the dirty clothes on the floor, backpack too, then pulled on new socks and poured a modest glass. I heard a shower start up. I enjoyed this drink slowly, studying the room while I sipped. I always memorized my surroundings, no matter the size, no matter the claimed level of security. The shower cut off around the time I finished. I glanced out in the hallway but didn't see a soul. I was feeling dehydrated after the near-sauna I'd created and the second whiskey.

Padding around the circular hall, I wandered a bit, ended up in that crazy room with the ancient equipment, wandered further, then finally found the kitchen. Got nosy, rooted around in the fridge, snagged a cold water bottle. As I drank, I opted to look around a little more. There was one last hitch in my lower back, just above one of my cheeks and to the side of the first of many reconstructed vertebrae. I rubbed the palpable knot as I walked. I needed to work it out before falling asleep or else I'd heartily regret it in the morning.

I'd scoped out the table and stools in the kitchen for possible use, but the heights were all wrong. Jody's kid - the brunette, who'd been a cheerleader or something - had showed me a trick the last time I couldn't shake a knot, and damn if it didn't work. She'd had me get a foot up onto a rung of a ladder in Jody's garage, putting it at almost the level of my waist, directing me how to lean and tip my pelvis and rotate my hips around. Then when I hit the spot where it flared, I was to push into it with my fingers as hard as I could.

It only partially worked that day, at least with me trying to push it into oblivion. The other kid - the blonde one, who was usually pissed off and was shockingly strong - ended up grinding a fist into it from a different angle, and it dissipated like a dream. I'd almost hugged them. Almost.

Now I'd ended up in a library. There was a telescope. Underground. Well, that trumped the bizarreness of the sinks that seemed to be everywhere. Still checking for something of use, everything I saw was too tall or too short, though a few of the chairs around the library were getting closer. But when I turned, found myself looking into that weird equipment room again, I found what I hoped was the perfect solution in the staircase.

Adjusting the flannel pants for more wiggle room, I tried out some different steps, thankfully without slipping in my socked feet. The last one I tried was the winner. Just that little bit of a change in angle, and it was better already. I was in the midst of the rotations, pressing around, feeling for the edges of the knot, when I heard footsteps approach.

I knew it was him without looking.

"Gonna need to put a bell on you," I commented, strain in my voice as I kept up the slight re-positioning, trying to find a sweet spot.

"Uh, Snipes? That ain't how stairs work."

I cut my eyes over. So he'd been the one in the shower. His hair was still wet, feet in slippers. He wore a loose robe over a white t-shirt and striped blue boxers. The scent of his soap or maybe shampoo drifted over. It had a note of cedar, a touch of citrus, but very light, none of that overly sharp, comes-in-the-room-before-you-do, high school sophomore garbage.

I gave him a wink, and the side of his mouth turned up. "I'm aware. Just borrowing for a sec, trying to get my stretch on before I lie down."

Dean watched for a moment. I stopped the movement, felt my head tilt in concentration as I thought I had it. I winced as I pressed in. Yup. Right there. "Shit," I muttered, wincing again.

I was so focused, I hadn't realized he'd come closer.

"Knot?" he asked.

"Mmm-hmmm. I'm trying to get a good angle on it."

A few beats of silence passed, then he said, "Want me to try?"

The answer was yes, as I had no doubt he'd trounce blondie in the driving-a-fist-into-my-back category. But.

But.

Eh, screw it.

"Yeah, actually," I told him. "Here. Get behind me. Make a fist."

"Okay."

"See where my fingers are? It's right in there."

"Okay," Dean said again. I felt his knuckles against me. "You ready?"

"We'll find out," I replied, grabbing the rails to brace myself just in case. Good thing, too. "Ooh," I gasped, my upper body pitching forward a little.

A soft chuckle behind me. "That it?"

"Oh yeah," I said through a chuckle of my own. "You can press in more. Now that I know what's coming."

I felt Dean ease forward, up against me now. His left arm went around me like when he'd helped me before, but higher than my waist, since my raised leg was in the way. He gripped me securely around my upper torso, his forearm brushing up against the underside of my breasts.

"All right - one, two, three," Dean told me. His breath tickled the damp hairs on the back of my neck. I felt a release in the pressure, involuntarily sunk back into him. He felt so solid. I fought back a shiver when his nose grazed the back of my ear. "More?"

That deep voice, that single word. I nodded. I didn't want to risk speaking. Dean repeated what he'd done, then lingered, kneading the area with his knuckles, rotating his wrist up and down.

"Okay, uh... I think we're good," I said, then cleared my throat, as the quality of my voice was growing closer to a whisper and I did not like that. At all.

Dean slowly slid his arm from around me, but I still felt his presence close by as I reached back again with my hand, pressing with my fingertips onto the spot that was just below the start of the waistband, more on my cheek than my back.

"Will you let me try something else?"

I nearly froze at the unexpected request, but recovered quickly. "Um, sure?" A clipped, nervous laugh escaped my lips before I knew it.

No laugh from Dean. His expression was serious, focused, maybe driven, even, as he came around, facing me, turning me a little so I was tilted out more toward the room versus the staircase.

Ah. Now I understood. It would've been in his way.

He stepped into my personal space, wrapping his arm all the way around my torso again, his face close to mine. He gently nudged my fingertips off the spot as he slid his own just barely under the waist band. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I brought them up, let them rest lightly on his shoulders. I kept my eyes trained on a random freckle on his neck. I could not look at him, not this close. Dean pushed with a decent amount of pressure, but not even as much as I'd done.

"Harder," I said.

He pulled me in a little closer, adjusted his hand, pressed harder. His feet were on either side of the foot I still had on the floor. I could smell him under the soap now. Ducking his head, his lips next to my ear, that damn word again:

"More?"

I didn't mean to, I really didn't, but I felt myself lean into him. My hands drifted from his broad shoulders, arms now making a loop, resting atop them.

"Harder," I instructed him again. I gripped my own forearms tightly, grit my teeth when Dean did as he was told. "Keep doing that. Right there. Don't stop," I said into the side of his neck, now virtually completely pressed against him; a shiver passed over Dean.

I closed my eyes. He was hitting exactly the right spot. I felt it fading, I could tell he did, too, as the force he delivered incrementally lessened. Before I realized it, I was arching ever-so-slightly backwards, meeting his fingertips as he moved them over me.

The grasp around my torso strengthened. Dean's breaths were beginning to sound ragged. His head moved from the side, never breaking contact as he slid it around, his forehead coming to rest against mine. His eyes were barely open. But I knew it wasn't because he was tired. He was wide awake. And so was I.

"Tell me what you need," Dean whispered, his voice husky.

My heart fluttered. As an answer, I took away whatever fraction of a space remained between us, pressing in fully, smashing my breasts against him. I felt the vibration of his response travel across my chest.

"Mmmm."

The arm wrapped around me pulled away, followed by the other, as Dean raised his hands to my head, smoothed a few fly-away hairs out of my face. "Can we lose this?" he whispered, his fingers already drifting to the twists of hair.

I nodded, keeping our eye contact as I reached up, quickly pulled the ponytail holder away, let it fall to the floor as my hair fell down my back. A tiny smile across his lips, then those lips were back against my neck, the arm wrapped back around me, settling me into his embrace. He'd returned his other hand to my lower back, though no more fingertips - his whole hand was pushing, rubbing, more of a massage. All across my lower back. Then lower, across the top of the curves of my ass. Then higher again, to where my bra strap would've been.

Dean let his head drift once more, now bringing it up and around, coming to rest on the other side, keeping his face turned in so when he sighed, I could feel the movement of his lips. My own lips were parted and my breaths were getting shallow. I began to lightly grind my pelvis, like it was an involuntary reaction, into the thigh of the leg that was in the space between mine. I had been wet since he walked in the room.

"Mmmm," Dean hummed again, his hand moving faster up and down my back, now slipping it under the shirt. He brought his leg up to the first step. I pushed into it.

I shivered against him, ground a little more, felt his erection as I gyrated higher. And when he felt me begin to move my other leg off of the stair -

"Not yet," he told me softly but firmly.

I was disappointed to sense the thigh he'd just offered me being moved away. Had I messed up? Had I overstepped?

No. As I shortly found out, oh-but-no. I had not.

Dean switched the arm he had around me, freeing up his dominant hand. I felt the back of the hand against my belly, moving gently to and fro, fingers slowly edging further and further under the elastic waistband of the pajama pants. The tiniest of pauses as the fingertips found the waistband of my underwear, the process resuming, back and forth, back and forth.

My eyes had long fallen closed, but I opened them slightly when he'd stopped, just after the tips of his fingers were nearing so, so close to where I wanted them. Dean's head had eased up, his forehead coming to rest against mine once more, eyes focused, unwavering, asking a silent question. So I took a page from his book; bringing my lips right up against his, I whispered:

"More."

Now his eyes fell closed as he inhaled sharply. I did not want to kiss him. Not yet. So I tilted my face, running my nose against the side of his, moving further, letting my cheek be scratched gently by the scruff along his jaw, my lips ending up pressed into that little space behind his jaw and under his earlobe. I returned his favor from earlier, sprinkling wisps of kisses here and there.

Dean's hand flipped then, palm beginning to cup me, his fingers almost cautiously making their way down, then angling back. His knuckles ran against the damp spot in my underwear, eliciting another sharp breath. I felt the fingers finally go upwards at my taint, making contact there first, then slowly dragging forward.

"Fuck," he gasped into my neck, the stroking of my back coming to a stark halt, hand dropping to grip an ass cheek almost harshly, as his fingers had arrived at their destination and he realized just how wet he'd made me.

Part of me wanted to slam myself down onto the fingers that were delicately tracing around my entrance. But I knew better. Killing taught me patience. Killing taught me focus. My own little deaths were so much sweeter than any impossible shot I'd made, but only when the same amount of patient focus was applied.

My arms were locked tightly around his neck, one of my hands snaking up into his hair, as his free hand released its grip on my ass, again traveling up under the shirt and then stopping, flattened in the middle, fingers splayed, keeping me close.

All of Dean's concentration was in one place, and one place only.

I'd have thought he was teasing me when the barest bit of his middle and index fingers dipped inside of me, except that they immediately slid up, landing perfectly on my clit. Not that it would have been difficult to find - it was so engorged, I had already felt it pressing against the fabric of my underwear before Dean had even sent his fingers on their journey.

Dean and I both made soft grunting sounds at the same time.

A slide back - a quick dip of his middle finger again - and Dean's fingers flew easily now, rotating around my clit, over it, up and down, back and forth, squeezing it gently between his fingers. But it was too brisk. I would come too quickly. Then it wouldn't be as good. I brought my hands to the sides of his face then, put mine right in front of it, tilted away from his touch.

His forehead creased in disappointment.

"Slower," I told him, letting my lips ease into a smile. My eyes flicked from his down to his mouth, then back again. When I saw his eyes had gone to my lips, I ran my tongue across them.

"Damn," he whispered, then tried to come in for a kiss.

I dodged, bringing my head to the side, closer to his ear again. Then I brought my pelvis back to where it was. And for extra measure, re-positioned a little, letting the hip of the leg on the stair rotate, opening myself to him even more.

"Slower," I reiterated in his ear.

And Dean obeyed. Using just his index finger, he slid gently over my clit, just one last time for the moment, then eased it inside me, pulling it out slowly, letting his middle finger have a turn, this time rotating, pressing around the walls. Dean pulled the finger away. I was sopping wet.

Now he eased both fingers inside, an actual groan coming from him. His other hand came higher up on my back, like he needed something to grasp, briefly doing so with my hair, but eventually letting it come down to grip my hip. His fingers hadn't moved, but he'd quickly maneuvered his head up so that we were once again facing each other.

Dean's expression was a combination of confusion and borderline awe. Interspersed between his breaths, he managed a question. "How the fuck are you so tight?"

To answer, I grabbed one of his hips, urging him forward, to remedy the gap that had grown between us due to creating some space for his hand before it curved under my pussy. Now I could slip my fingers under his waistband, causing his eyes to briefly flutter closed, then open widely again as my thumb ran slowly over the head of his cock.

Drops of moisture had begun to emerge, sticky on my thumb. I brought my hand up, let him watch me put the thumb in my mouth and pull it out. I ran the thumb across his lips, planted a small, close-lipped kiss on just the bottom one, then told him what he wanted to know.

"Practice."

I tensed my core around his fingers.

"Shit," he muttered, letting his head fall against my shoulder, now pumping his fingers in and out, switching up the pace here and there, penetrating both deep and shallow, and I was loving every push and pull, clamping down occasionally to remind him of what might lay down the road. I hadn't yet decided. This was fun. I didn't want this to stop. I couldn't tell how big he was; I wanted to know. I'm not ashamed - size is important to me.

My husband had a beautiful cock, he loved how much I loved sucking him off, actually felt guilty sometimes about our reciprocation ratio. It just wasn't particularly long, or thick. It was fine. It also wasn't the reason I married him. I'd been fucked by plenty of assholes who had such huge packages, I'd be sore for days after just one roll in the hay. So was it a big-picture deal-breaker for me? Obviously not.

I wasn't considering marrying Dean. A relationship with Dean. I didn't even know if I was going to actually fuck Dean. But seeing as how he was on deck for a one-night-stand, this was part of the interview process. Otherwise, clearly we'd have a grand ol' time doing what we had been, I'd probably give him the blowjob of his life, and hell, maybe we'd even start diving back into that yummy bottle waiting in my room. Once we were done playing.

All of that took a backseat, though - Dean hit a particularly good spot that gave me chills, and also boosted my resolve to free his cock from his shorts. I pulled at the waistband of the boxers again, this time going for it, gently encircling what turned out to be an impressive girth with my hand, slowly moving it up and down, but not gripping - just hovering.

Dean's head raised a little from my shoulder, the kisses he'd been lining up on my neck pausing at my touch. Then the kisses began again, once more inching to my mouth, his free hand leaving my hip to come up and cup the side of my face.

I met his eye and subtly shook my head.

A touch of a smile came to Dean's lips, and that twinkle in his eye kicked off again. "Little late to play hard-to-get," he mumbled near my mouth, kissing my chin instead.

"Patience is rewarded," I replied. Keeping one hand on his cock, I used my other hand to pull his out of my pants. He looked truly bummed. More so when I brought my leg down from the stair. "You're not going to fuck me, Dean," I whispered.

His eyebrows raised, glancing down at his hard cock as my thumb kept running up, over, around the head, just like he'd done with my clit."Oh yeah?" he whispered back.

I stared at him, enjoying those eyes, those eyelashes, the tiny beads of sweat that had come up on his brow. I nodded. I wanted him in my mouth. And told him so.

We didn't go to his room or mine - Dean chose another room for us altogether, one far away from Sam's. I suppose he thought I'd be loud. Or maybe he knew he'd be loud. Either way. I was always up for a covert op.

The door had barely clicked closed before the robe was tossed away, and Dean whipped his shirt off, then pulled mine up over my breasts in two seconds flat. And god help me, I actually giggled when he grabbed me, dipped me back slightly like we were practicing a dance, and immediately clamped his mouth over one of my nipples. And in what seemed like his mantra for the night, a low Mmmmm came from his throat.

He tipped me back up, edged us over to the wall, pressing into me, that gorgeous smile coming at me full-blast. "Where were these hiding?" he asked in faux-seriousness, keeping his eyes on mine as he kneaded my breasts with both hands, gently tweaking my nipples erect between his fingers.

"Well, I put them away ‘til there's a different sort of business to tend to." I felt my face twitch briefly then - he'd gotten a good roll.

"Did I pinch?" he asked in a remorseful tone, then immediately bent over, put his lips on the offended nipple, ran his tongue over it in such a careful manner, I almost came right then.

I grabbed his biceps, urging him to stand up straight, and as he did so, I lowered myself, kissing a trail from his belly button on down, carefully pulling the elastic of his boxers over his erection, easing them down and letting them drop to the floor.

I began at the base, licking slowly from there all the way up the shaft, but stopping short of the head. And then repeated that, all the way around, varying how much tongue I used, how much pressure I applied. I ran my fingers gently up and down his inner thighs, almost tickling them, no scratching or grasping. He was so swollen and hard, I didn't need my hands to keep his cock upright.

Dean kept starting and stopping to wind his fingers through my hair, got fidgety the further along I got, little sounds reaching my ears with every lick. Finally I circled the base with a few fingers and my thumb, raising myself up a bit to get a different angle, firmly bringing the ring I'd made up to meet my mouth as I engulfed the head and the first inch or so.

"Fuck fuck fuck," I heard Dean breathlessly chanting.

I was surprised - I'd only just gotten started, swirling my tongue, running the tip inside the slit, varying the pressure of my fingers as I'd done with my tongue, gentle but purposeful with my strokes - when he suddenly reached down, grabbed me by the shoulders, standing me up.

"What's---" I started, but was cut off by Dean pulling my shirt up and over my head. Then he pulled me against him, pinning his dick between us.

"You feel how much I want you?" he practically growled, each of his hands grabbing an ass cheek, pushing me into him further.

Again, I borrowed a play from his book, placing my hands on either side of his face, saying, "Tell me what you need."

He looked me dead in the eyes, so intensely it threw me off my game a bit, and his voice strained when he spoke. "I want... I need to be inside you."

It was a variation on a familiar line for most women. Honestly, it typically fell flat. Two people in my entire life had ever said it and meant it. Both had been demons. One had made me a widow.

I let a tiny smile cross my lips, informing him, "Then that's where you should be."

Dean leaned in, no doubt wanting to absolutely crush his tongue against my lips, push it into my mouth. But he respected what my stance had been all night, and so we stood there for a moment, faces touching, not hugging but groping aimlessly at each other. The pajamas started to come off my hips as we were grinding, our mouths open but not kissing, just panting into each other.

Dean suddenly looped his thumbs inside the pants and my underwear, pulling them off in one movement, then he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling me over with him. I ended up with my knees digging into the mattress on either side of his hips, his hands gripping my ass as I was getting ready to lower myself onto him, when he spoke.

"Stop."

He removed his hands, and I leaned back, careful to avoid his cock, then perched on his lap and gave him a concerned look.

"I just wanna... I want to make sure that you... that you..." he said, stopping and starting.

He was going to have to sharpen up those thoughts a bit. Then I noticed his eyes were fighting looking away from my face and further down, like he was catching something out of his periphery but didn't want to look. So I did it for him.

Oh damn it to hell.

My necklace. He was about to have his face directly in my dead husband's wedding band while I was riding his cock. I huffed, irritated at myself. I reached under my hair, sliding the clasp around to the front so I could take it off. Dean grabbed one of my hands.

"If you're not ready, it's fine."

I raised an eyebrow.

He frowned. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm bullshitting you."

"I'm looking at you like: Shut up, let me get this thing off so it won't distract you and we can fuck."

Dean just stared at me.

"So now I'm the one bullshitting," I stated, climbing off his lab.

He sighed. "Snipes---"

"Nope," I said, squatting and picking up my clothes.

Let his balls stay blue. Or let that throbbing cock enjoy his hand instead of my pussy. His call. I wouldn't be around to find out which he chose. Asshole. I heard the mattress squeak as he stood up. In two strides, he stalled my retreat, putting a hand against the door, not stopping me really, just... just...

"Just tell me you're not doing this to pretend I'm him."

My head snapped up to look at him. "Fuck off, Dean," I heard myself snarl, reaching for the door handle.

"Why didn't you take that off before?" he pressed, still not moving.

I glared. "Because I didn't know this was going to happen, okay? I didn't plan on getting stuck with you people and ending up here. I didn't plan on having to tell you my life story. I didn't plan on meeting someone who makes me feel ---"

Dean cut me off with the beginnings of what was potentially the sweetest kiss of my life. But I pushed him back. Neither of us moved. I felt him looking at me as I looked at the door. We stood in silence. He spoke first.

"You hungry?"

And not five minutes later, there we were, sitting across from each other, spoons in our hands, working on the gallon tub of chocolate ice cream opened between us, not bothering with bowls. In a different timeline, we'd have taken it with us to the showers, eaten it off of each other before I'd have let him wash me off, then bend me over. Another time, perhaps.

We had gotten dressed again. Didn't want to cause Sam to have a stroke if he happened to come into the kitchen. We smelled of sex, but I knew he wouldn't have commented on it. Again, that whole nice guy thing. Dries me right up.

"People say such stupid things, when the other person in the relationship dies," I commented.

I glanced up. Dean was eating, but listening.

"You ever have that happen? Engaged or whatever, and they die?"

He shook his head.

"People say stuff like - 'He'd want you to find love again'." I rolled my eyes, pried up another spoonful.

"You don't think so?" Dean asked.

"Ha. My husband? Oh, hell no. He could be a real prick. Jealous little piece of work."

"Gotta give me more than that," he prodded with a touch of a grin.

I shrugged. "Not much to tell. It was so cliché. Any of my male colleagues I was buddies with, especially my partner prior to him - because, you know, the list of elite snipers is just filled with chicks, I had so many I could've chosen as friends."

Dean chuckled.

"He even got suspicious of Jody at one point, asked if she and I got bi-curious every now and then."

Dean had been looking down, loading up his spoon, but I caught the expression on his face that indicated he thought it wasn't a half-bad question to ask.

"Most cliché though - how jealous he'd get, when I outranked his stats, when they wanted me to be team leader, all that professional competitive garbage."

"Did you ever pull back?"

"Nope. He should've nutted up. If he wanted to beat me? Be better."

“Damn right,” he said, and we clinked spoons, ate in silence for a few minutes.

Then I had to do what I do - wrecking good moments, that is - so set my spoon down and sighed. "Dean, when you ask me if I wanted to... to have a good time tonight for any reason that has to do with him, I can promise you: I do it for me, and only me. Not to remember him, or to spite him, or to forget him."

Dean set his spoon down as well, then put the lid back on the container. He picked it up, took it to the freezer, put it away. Paused for a moment after he'd closed the door.

"When I've planned ahead - yeah, of course I leave this in a pocket or a purse or the car,” I went on. “I don't wear it out of sentimentality. It's not a reminder of a perfect life. I wear it to keep me on point, never doubt those fuckers could be hiding out in anyone."

Dean turned, looked at me with a somewhat grim expression. "So you don't think one's still hiding in me?"

I met his grimness with some of my own. "Don't got a bullet through your head, do you?"

A fraction of a smile - albeit a slightly sad one - hit his lips. "Fair enough." He padded back over, grabbed our spoons, chucked them in the sink, and walked back around the table but didn't sit down, so I looked up, and found his face was more relaxed, that deep voice a little softer when he added, “I'd still risk it."

I stared at him for a few beats while I regrouped. I didn't like the mood in the air. "Wow. Pretty and stupid," I stated.

He stared back; then, serious as a heart attack -

"So you think I'm pretty."

I burst into laughter, raised my hands to cover my mouth, absolutely cracking up.

I assumed I wasn't the first woman to think it - that Dean Winchester was going to be the death of me. I was also sure there was another group of women who thought they'd be the death of him. Maybe I belonged in that club, instead. I'd be willing to bet the company I'd be in could end me, too. I should look them up, tuck the info away as a backup plan if my life went sideways again.

Another best practice in my line of work: always have a way out.

Dean and I did go back to the room together. We slowly took off each others' clothes. The plan for us had changed, but not what our bodies wanted, even though the shift of our mindsets for the moment was clear.

I spread out on the bed, propped up against the pillows, let him watch me pleasure myself as I watched him sit in the desk chair and jack himself off, neither of us making much noise beyond gasps, heavy breathing. He wiped off a bit, then we licked each other clean, climbed under the covers. I am not a cuddler, didn't take him for one either, but as Dean snuggled into me from behind, he almost immediately fell asleep.

I was lucky there was a healthy amount of older cars in that garage. Like I say - I always memorize my surroundings. I didn't waste time looking for keys, easier to just yank the wires on the odd bird of the garage, an old sedan, spark it to life. I'd leave it at Jody's for them to pick up; not like Dean was going to report it stolen, anyway. He'd know exactly who took it.

And now Dean would know yet another secret of mine, I thought, returning my set of lock picks to my backpack after I popped open the Impala's trunk. I removed my rifle case, closed the trunk again. They really should think about putting an alarm on that thing.

I drove down the road. It was close to sun-up. I pushed my foot further down on the accelerator, needed to get a good amount of distance between us in case he woke up earlier than I'd predicted. I doubted he'd come after me; still good to be prudent. I thought to text Jody at the next red light, warn her she might get a call.

I didn't leave a note because (A), not my style for one-night stands, even when there was a chance I'd have to interact with the person again, and (B), it wasn't my style to explain myself. My job called sounded like the fraidy-cat excuse of some weepy chick who was getting attached, especially since he knew I freelanced - it would've reeked of bullshit.

Except it was the truth. Well, more a contact than a client. But still my job.

Like I told Dean: sentimental was not a word to describe me. I didn't get attached. I taught my students not to get attached to their clients - emotions distract. You assess the danger. You act accordingly. You determine if a suspicious person has targeted your client. You give a fuck about why they're doing it, because if you know the motivation, you'll know the triggers, and if you know the triggers, you'll be anticipatory, and being anticipatory keeps you from getting dead.

Which is why I wanted to know the demon's motivation. It was patient. It was practiced. It was focused. And it waited to possess my husband, the one person I trusted implicitly, waited for an op where we were paired, and he was behind me, all so it could get the upper hand.

All to target me.

My work with various supernatural investigators had yielded some facts. The demon who possessed my husband hadn't been spotted in several years, apparently having been exorcised to who knew where. I also knew he'd been a lackey. Assigned to take me out. Not the one giving the orders.

Normally, I wouldn’t have left a fun time - and I’d planned on a fun time, waking Dean up with a surprise or two. But, once more, seemed the world had other plans. When I'd gotten up to pee at some point during the night, I'd swung by the room where my backpack and phone were, saw a text I'd been waiting for. I'd gotten like messages off-and-on over the years, never panning out. My most recent P.I., however, had proven himself with the minor tasks I'd tested him with.

I got the tingles, maybe even better than the ones Dean's touch had given me, seeing those words.

SOLID LEAD ON RED SMOKE

Feedback makes my ❤️ go boom

See Nash Write : Master | See Nash Write : Mobile

🏷️🏷️Wanna be tagged? Hit me up! 🏷️🏷️

#Supernatural Fanfiction #SPN Fanfic #Dean x Reader #Sam x Reader #Nash Writes #as Chuck as my witness #unless I get a hella good crossroads deal #I shall never go smuttin' again!

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rollertoasteroflife · 7 years

Text

These Things Are Fun Lets Give It a Go

Tagged by @katyaton heyyyyyyy!

RULES: answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions. (…yeah I don’t know that many people...)

tagging: @deaded123 @showmethestarlight and if anyone that follows me wants to please do but you two are the only ones that actually reply to these things and I can’t be arsed to go through all of my followers when no one does them anyway :D

1. coke or pepsi: coke definitely

2. disney or dreamworks: oh god ummm i love disney cos that was my childhood but dreamworks have done some truly amazing films and they gave me how to train your dragon which i love far more than is probably normal...

3. coffee or tea: *whispers* both definitely both...I drink so much coffee and tea and currently green tea I’m probably 70% hot beverage at this point

4. books or movies: ah fuck. um I have to say finding a favourite book feels so much better than a favourite film but like I literally work in the film industry so I honestly love them too but yeah imma have to say books (that was really difficult D:)

5. windows or mac: windows cos it’s what i know

6. dc or marvel: um I’ve seen more marvel so I’ll say marvel but I’m not particular opinionated on the matter

7. xbox or playstation: I am abysmal at playing games so again not really my question. however i have finally worked out how to use my housemates xbox as a dvd player so woo

8. dragon age or mass effect: I don’t play them

9. night owl or early riser: Permanently tired pigeon here but more of a night owl.

10. cards or chess: Oh god um actually can’t choose because i grew up playing card games and i really love them but i have a massive sentimental personal thing about chess so yeah i can’t choose here

11. chocolate or vanilla: Chocolate what am I? dumb?!

12. vans or converse: Converse

13. lavellan, trevelyan, cadash, or adaar: I do not understand

14. fluff or angst: um in like fic reading or my life?? because my favourite fan fics are often angsty ones but I get wayyyyyyyyyy too emotional about them and yet still tend to read them over fluffy ones. Yet in actual life my life has enough problems please cover me fluffy things i’m tired

15. beach or forest: beach because there’s sea but i fucking love forests so much!!

16. dogs or cats: Cats!! but puppers are great too!!!

17. clear skies or rain: Fucking rain I love rain!!

18. cooking or eating out: I really like cooking it’s what I resort to when I’m having issues with life not working out.

19. Spicy food or mild food: I don’t like massively spicy food but I will fight you over bland food so like somewhere between the two??

20. halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas: I only really started doing halloween like a couple of years ago but i do enjoy it (woo for fancy dress) but i do really love christmas!

21. would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: cold definitely i hate the heat. It was 15 degrees c today (59 fahrenheit thanks google) and i was dying and complaining most of the day

22. if you could have a superpower, what would it be: Shapeshifting!!!!

23. animation or live action: Again with the whole job thing, live action but i love animated films too!!

24. paragon or renegade: eh?

25. baths or showers: i shower more often but my house doesn’t have a bath and i really miss it. also currently with my leg injuries i would love a bath because they ache so bad D:

26. team cap or team ironman: umm i don’t know?? I’m not gonna choose sorry

27. fantasy or sci-fi: Fantasy but scifi is awesome!

28. do you have three or four favourite quotes? if so what are they: Presume not that I am the thing I was - Shakespeare Henry V

The planets and heavens will move for you. - this is a quote from a poem @deaded123/ @breathingtheworldinwords wrote for me which is my favourite poem

I am constantly coming across quotes i want ot remember but i never write them down so yeah...

29. youtube or netflix: netflix

30. harry potter or percy jackson: Harry potter but am currently working my way through the percy jacksons series which i do enjoy and rick riordan is an awesome human!

31. when you feel accomplished: when i remember how far i’ve come from what i was and how hard i’ve fought to be where i am now. Also I once forgot what happened in a battle on an history exam so proceeded to talk about the battle of helms deep and cut the orcs and elves. I got 100% on that paper. ;)

32. star wars or star trek: star wars......it was my childhood and i love it so much

33. paperback books or hardback books: i do love me a good hardback but my paperbacks have kept me company for a long time

34. horror or rom-com: ummm i’m not great at horror but it depends so i’d probs watch the rom com and just be cynically sarcastic throughout...(the fact that i enjoy rom coms when i’m not great and actual romance annoys myself)

35. to live in a world without literature or music: that is just mean :P but i’d have to chose literature as my life is based around stories

36. pastel colours or dark colours: dark definitely!! other people look aweosme in pastels but i don’t like wearing them and honeslty just feel kind of suspicious of them as a colour group (i have no idea why i have such storng opinions on pastels or why i am suspicious...)

37. tv shows or movies: Tv shows as you go through so much more. Also it suits my attention span better

38. city or countryside: can i have like a town?? i love the countryside but i also need to be around other people or i get very morbid

39. if any other zodiac sign could describe you, what would it be: i don’t understand??i’m a leo and honeslty haven’t looked at the others enough to know the traits!

40. if you could only listen to one album for the rest of your life what would it be: i would currently choose one of sia’s albums as just yes

41. cinema or theatre: cinema because i love films but i do enjoy theatre

42. if you could be any fictional character’s best friend, who’d you be: hmmmmmmmm i honeslty don’t know as my favs are people like me but being around someone like me as a best friend is kind of an odd thought...pass?

43. smiling or smirking: smiling to me means just being free and comfortable to be happy and smirking in my mind is the silly little in jokes that tyou have with friends in the middle of a conversation or when you’ve thought of something inappropriately funny both of which i do a lot.

44. are you an ‘all or nothing’ type or are you more consistent: all or nothing probably

45. playlists or your whole library on shuffle: shuffle because i’m too lazy to make playlists

46. travelling or staying at home: Travelling,but i like to have a base somewhere. but yeah i get bored of places easily and am not attached to anywhere as a ‘home’ as a concept i’ve never really got that feeling about anywhere? um it’s hard to explain so i’m just gonna stop cos i don’t know what my point is

47. books or fanfiction: both are literature and they’re both stories and i fucking love stories in all forms! right now i’m reading more fanfiction because when i need to work lets get lost in emotions about fictional characters right?! but seriously i have a bunch of favourite fanfics which i keep rereading and most are novel length so like not much of a difference!

48. If you could live in a fantasy world, what world would it be: the chronicles of ixia world probably but like god there are so many that i’d want to be in!!

49. your favorite cartoon: um i don’t really watch that many cartoons... cacn i claim the Dragons tv series that accompanies httyd? it’s animated......

50. name the weirdest five songs on your itunes, current or past: um ok so i have a bit of a weird thing about my music in that i don’t like talking about it too much...i’m getting better but yeah i don’t want to answer this :)

51. mountains or plains: Mountains!!!!!!! they give me liiiiiiiiiife

52. favorite anime (or tv show if you don’t watch anime): Yuri on ice is the first anime i’ve watched and honeslty have fallen in love with it and it has ruined my world right now (it’s what my anxieties are currently directed out instead of at my work which i’m cool with) and the only other one i’ve seen is ouran high school host club which i actually watched half of yesterday whilst working as a friend loves it, it’s amusing :)

53. which social media platform are you most like yourself on: err i don’t really do social media much. i have facebook to talk to uni people, a couple of group chats with home people and it’s the only contact i have with my dad’s side of the fam as most don’t live in england but i don’t actually post anything except about work i’ve got donea dn funny photos of my friends. obvs i have tumblr which i overshare about myself way too much but this is probs a very accurate summary of my shit sense of humour, tv shows, and everything else in my head! though i do sometimes get concerned about my oversharing on here cos y’know internet safetyand all D: oh i have snapchat too but i mainly use it to talk to 2 friends one is in germany so i can’t ring her like i used to and the other we pretty much just send each other selfies with a lot of heart emojis! i’ve been debating getting instagram but haven’t decided yet...

54. What are some of your passions:anyone that knows me or reads my frequent oversharing will know i work in costume stuff so yeah i can literally talk about costuming and historic fashions for days and not get bored so yeha don’t ask about that unless you ready to learn!! ;) um i’m also an archery instructor, really love drawing, and just yeah the various tv, film and book obsessions that i go through (currently it’s yoi but i do try and keep my obsession from fully taking ove rthis blog-80% of it is still my shit sense of humour

55. Favourite food: I will fight everyone to get a proper roast dinner with yorkshire puddings and also chocolate.....and pomegranates.....and sugar snap peas......

This was fun!!!

#toasterrambles #katyaton #deaded123 #showmethestarlight

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