#Ash: I’M GOING I’M HAULING ASS RIGHT NOW

[curiositydooropened]

Ranged • 01: Firetower

You and Steve have been sent on a missing person's case, a park ranger in the Cascades went missing from his post after reporting a large area of downed trees. Could be something up your alley.

Pairing: special agent!Steve Harrington x special agent!Reader

Wordcount: 5742

Warnings: very slowburn, this fic is episodic, coworkers to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore, weapons, fighting, murder, viruses, decay, monsters *This chapter contains mentions of animal harm, blood, vomit/nausea, potential character death, and whump/bad injuries - also hey, I'm not a doctor and this fic is free, so my inaccuracies might bug you. xo

This blog is 18+ only. I do not give permission for any of my fics to be duplicated, reposted, or put into AI. Thank you!

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Moodboard • 00: Prologue • 02: Home [Coming Soon]

Fire Lookout Tower 647 - Cascades

Fog blanketed the forest floor and just beyond, it coated the tops of trees, covering pine needles in vast, rolling smoke. Everything lacked saturation up here, everything but verdant moss and fern and branch, a sea of grey and green, damp and deep. The sunlight filtered in way far off, to the West, but everything out of its reach had begun to groan under the steady pelt of plummeting rain.

Rain pittered and pat against the tin roof and into the quickly filling bucket in the corner. Its splash zone had been haphazardly mopped with a shaggy old towel. 

You watched the landscape shift beyond the clouds, wrapped in wool socks and a flannel blanket while your partner took his turn retrieving fire wood from its drying spot beneath the tower.

His presence was announced by the groaning of stairs and the creaking of a rusted spring on the door. 

Steve had only smiled a handful of times since you met him, a painful stretch of soft features, the wrinkle never leaving his brow. To be fair, your job rarely warranted more than a polite grimace to townsfolk whose crops you’d left ablaze, whose family members you’d left on a slab.

Today was no different.

“This place is a shit hole,” he grumbled, rolling cut wood from his arms onto the ground in front of the stove. 

You hummed, knowing better than to argue something so trivial before he had his dinner.

He hunched to stoke the fire, now mere ashes and embers that glowed red in the little iron stove. He was soaked to the bone, dark hair clinging to his forehead and around his ears. He’d have to cut it again before your next return to Base. 

His hands were bright red, nipped cold and hard-worked, and you rolled your eyes at the pair of gloves he’d left on the rickety card table near the door. 

“Fucking rain,” he muttered, shoving kindling in hopes for it to catch.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself upright and reached for your own rain slicker on its hook. A puddle had formed and seeped through the floorboards, creating a patch of darkened wood that ringed with all puddles that had come before. “I’m going to get water to boil.” 

“Be careful.” 

The spring creaked. Rain gushed from dips in the roof and splashed loudly against rocks on the hillside. 

You glanced back at Steve. He was hunched in front of a started fire, worry etched between his brows. 

He shrugged. “I slipped at the bottom of the stairs.” He gestured to the mud that streaked his left pant-leg. “Be careful.”

You nodded and stepped out into the deluge.

The window coverings provided a good roof for the porch, save a few leaks here and there, and you clung to the side of the building as your guard rail to round it. You’d put empty buckets on the south end. All five of them had all overflowed. 

You picked the lightest one. You’d managed to haul it back across slippery planks, dozens of feet in the air, to the door before your right foot slipped out from under you. With a yelp, and the sting of bitter cold against your ass cheeks, you fell. The building teetered under your shifted weight, and you clung to the railing with pinched breath.

The spring creaked. Steve stood at the door with lumbered shoulders and that same frown, looking down a freckled nose at you. He picked up the bucket with one hand and held his other for you to take. “I said, ‘be careful’.” 

While the water boiled and Steve grumbled about canned meatballs, you stripped out of wet jeans and remained in damp Long Johns, removing your socks and hat and gloves to hang near the fire. 

The sun had already dipped far to the west, catching on split clouds in purples and oranges before it was swallowed up again by the grey. 

“You get the radio working?” Steve sighed, adverse to the quiet. 

You shook your head and stirred tomato paste around in the pot. After many meals with Steve, you were sure he grew up in the kind of household that only ate their meals on trays in front of the television. He could never really sit and appreciate the stillness. “Go ahead and tinker with it. Is there a game tonight?” 

“There was,” he deployed a long antenna and fidgeted with a few dials. Static buzzed from the plastic between his hands. “Might be too late. What time zone are we in?” 

“Pacific,” you explained. “Two hours behind.” 

You felt lighter after food. Warmth settled over your chest and shoulders, and you huddled further into your blanket. 

Steve’s hair dried a little, and you managed to coax him into taking one of your spare hats. The stitches stretched over the circumference. With a sigh, you slowly ripped out the project you’d been knitting and cast more stitches onto your needle. 

The radio hadn’t worked, too far out of reach to hear the score, and it had been discarded. Instead, Steve hummed, and the fire crackled, and your needles clacked against one another. The rain had died down, too.

“Think we’ll find him?” He asked, picking at the frayed stitching on the baseball he’d been tossing around.

Your target was the missing tower keeper, a man named Les Joplin who hadn’t reported in a few days after he’d gone in search of what he had described to dispatch as a rotten cropping of trees in the east acreage. 

You glanced back up at Steve, never knowing if he wanted you to answer honestly or not. Your fingers kept pace. Knit, purl, knit, purl. “Hope so.”

“My grandmother used to knit.” He nodded to the project slowly making way in your hands. 

You hummed. You’d heard this story before. A few months back, you began to notice a pattern to the information Steve had given you about his former life, only snapshots, hand-picked. You wondered if he had been trained this way, or if he still didn’t trust you.

The repeated stories didn’t stop you from prying for more.

“What’d you call you grandmother?” You asked.

“What do you mean?” He frowned back at you.

“You know, ‘grandma’, ‘granny’, ‘nana’?”

He snorted, rolled his eyes, tossed the ball a few times. “Grandmother.” 

You cocked a brow. “Grandmother? What, like the Queen?” 

There it was, the softest uptick of the corner of his lips, a flash of amusement in his eyes as he rolled them. “Exactly like the Queen. I was lucky if I got to address her as anything other than ‘ma’am’.” 

Another peak behind the curtain. You snickered and pressed on. “Mom or Dad’s mom?” 

“Uh…” He frowned again, mulling something over. “Mom’s. My dad’s parents were old as shit, died before I was born.” Another insight. 

“How’d they meet, your parents?” 

“Huh?” He blinked back at you, brow in a proper frown now. “I don’t know.” 

You’d lost him. You’d pressed too hard. With a sigh, you turned back to your knitting. Knit, purl. Knit, purl. 

He shook his head, and his sleeping bag shuffled as he stood and stretched. He set the baseball back on the little table, and it rolled until it met the pot of leftover spaghetti sauce. “Listen, I’m gonna take a leak, and we should probably think about getting some sleep. Early morning tomorrow.” 

You nodded, tucked your knitting back into your bag. “I’ll wash the dishes.” 

“Thank you.” He said, and he exited the little hut. The stairs creaked his whole way down. 

“Robin? No. No, Robin, no.” 

You awoke to Steve’s muffled cries. His sleeping bag shifted around a twitching body.

This wasn’t the first nightmare, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. You didn’t know who Robin was, and the fear in his voice dimmed your hope that she’d lived.

You swallowed to clear the sleep from your vocal cords before speaking his name into the darkness. It took several tries, a full shout, to snap him out of whatever version of Hell his subconscious had pulled him in, and when he did rouse, it was with force.

He shot from his pillow, gripping the hilt of a knife stashed under it, and glanced around the room. “What is it? What’s wrong?” 

You sighed, tucked your face into your pillow, and murmured. “I’m cold.” 

“What?” He peered at you. 

It wasn’t a lie. The fire had gone out, and your toes had numbed slightly, and you’d argued with him when he agreed to the floor, so you were sure he was cold too. Maybe that had caused the nightmare. “I’m cold. Will you just get over here, please?”

You heard his groan, and a shuffle of sleeping bag as he pulled himself upright. His back and shoulders were silhouetted, broad and hunched. He wound his sleeping bag up between his fists, joints cracking as he made his way over to your cot. 

“Is there room?”

You shifted impossibly closer to the wall and hugged your sleeping bag to you to expose just how much room was left on the little cot. Not much, if you were being honest, but you were cold, and you had hoped your presence beside him might calm the terrors that plagued him.

He spread his blanket out beside you before asking if you needed a sip of water. 

You shook your head, but watched as he ambled across the room to the rickety card table for a swig from the canteen. 

The rain had stopped, but fog blanketed the windows on all sides. The sloshing of the water in his bottle sent a shiver through you.

“Alright, I’m coming,” he grumbled, and returned to slide himself into bed beside you. 

His arm came up first, once he’d settled, and you stiffened under his hold.

“What’re you doing?” You rubbed at tired eyes, trying to catch any glimpse of the curve of his nose.

“Warming you up, don’t make it weird.” He looped you in, scooping your sleeping bag up between the two of you. His other arm reached around your middle and pulled you close.

You weren’t surprised at his strength. He’d offered you a helping hand with more than one injury in the field. You’d seen him pull women and children from burning buildings. That one time he hauled a sheepdog from the river, both man and beast soaking wet and panting, dog tossed around his broad shoulders. 

“Better?” His gruff voice fanned your forehead, deliciously warm. 

You hummed, reaching aching cold hands out to warm against his chest. 

He hissed under your touch and wrapped your fingers up in his own. “Didn’t I tell you to sleep next to the fire?” He scolded.

“No,” you hummed, letting your eyes grow heavy again. “You told me to take the cot.” 

He grumbled something incoherent and adjusted on the tiny pad beside you. You knew he’d complain about a crick in his neck in the morning. 

“Night, Steve,” you mumbled. 

His nose tipped itself against your temple, and he sighed. “Get some sleep.” 

He slept after that. 

—

The rain made rivulets of mud and Earth. Where trails once climbed the mountainside, rocks and boulders now fell, surging into teeming river beds. 

Your boots squelched beneath you, each step a slip away from disaster. 

Steve stood a few yards ahead, more surefooted. He whipped at overgrowth with the business end of a machete. “Joplin!” He cried out, startling a few birds from their perches.

You glanced around, hand around the gun strapped to your thigh, just in case. If Joplin was eaten by a bear out here, or worse, you had to have confidence in protecting yourselves. “Les!”

Steve called your name. He stood with his machete extended, scrubbing at his tired eyes with the palm of his other hand. 

Just beyond him, the forest had been blighted. Root to crown, these massive conifers were decimated. A widow maker forest, limbs fell at odd angles, having melted from the trunk. Green grass and fern and vine turned to black ash. 

You cursed under your breath and took careful steps to meet your partner to ensure the ground didn’t swallow you whole. When you reached him, the rancid stench stung in your nostrils, watered your eyes. “Well, guess he wasn’t kidding.” 

You glanced back up to the fire tower, now a mere speck on the horizon. 

Steve’s jaw clenched. He nodded. “I’m gonna look for holes. Call it in, will you?” 

With a sigh, you stripped the heavy pack from your back. Your shoulders ached in relief. “Be careful.” You warned, and watched as he took off at a slower pace into the patch of rot. 

You kept an eye on him as you dialed, service spotty, but you were quickly patched through to dispatch. “Yeah, hi.” You offered up your badge number, called in reinforcements for a controlled burn. 

“How big is the affected area?” The woman on the other lined cracked her gum between her molars. 

You glanced around at the rot. This was small, relatively fresh. A chill rolled down your spine. You looked from Steve to the blanket of mist rolling downhill from the clouds. “About ten acres.”

“Alright, hon, we’ll get someone out there in the next day or so. Are you in need of emergency evac?” 

“No, we’re good to hang out until the crew gets here. Thank you.” She hung up first, and you pushed the antenna back into the device. Before you could shove it back into your bag, however, you heard a cry, a moan, really, in the distance, carried on the wind, prickling the hairs at the base of your neck.

“Steve?” You called out, standing up straight to survey the area. 

You heard it again, to your left.

You swung around. Steve was gone. You were alone.

You took off on a run to where you’d last seen him, careful not to trip over any loose roots, trying not to bump any more precariously hung branches from their roosts hundreds of feet in the air. You called for your partner, still clutching the piece at your side in one hand, the satellite phone in the other. 

The noise was louder now, a grunt and a groan, two noises, two distinct voices. 

You stopped, surveyed your surroundings, posted up on the good side of a half-rotted stump. 

“Can you walk?” Steve’s voice hissed from nearby. 

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. You swung around, gun out, pointed toward the sound. 

“I broke it,” another voice, unfamiliar, croaked. They were beneath you. 

Rounding the stump, you found a hollowed out bit of ground wherein your partner was hacking away at the vines curled around the leg of an emaciated older man. This man was coated in mud and slime, curled hair sticking to his head. You sighed in relief and holstered your weapon. 

“Les Joplin?” You asked, taking a few steps to the edge of the hole. 

Both men jumped. Steve frowned back up at you before hacking away at another root. 

Les gulped, nodded. Shit, you’d left your pack at the edge of the rot. 

“Think you can limp it back to more solid ground? I’m going to call for an airlift.” You uncurled your knuckles from around the phone to dispatch the antenna and dial the number again. 

Les winced, teeth grit, sweat streaking the mud on his forehead.

You pulled your partner’s gaze. His jaw ticked. He pushed hair from his eyes with the back of his hand. He nodded, threw the man’s arm over broad shoulders. “Alright, count of three?” 

—

The rain came back as the air lift set down. Propellers pummeled large drops at you, sideways rain that stuck your clothes to your skin and cut off your breath.

You squeezed Les’s wrist as they strapped him to the gurney. His teeth chattered, face gray beneath a shiny mylar blanket. The ventilator obscured everything but his eyes, tired, frantic. 

Steve spoke to the team. He was shouting, but you couldn’t hear his voice over the wind and the slap of rain. 

Your hair stuck to the corners of your mouth.

Steve backed up to your front, shielding you behind his slim frame. He lifted a hand to wave as the helicopter ascended, clouds bending and melting beneath it. 

When it was a high enough altitude, Steve linked a large hand around your wrist and tugged you upwards, through wind-whipped grass and mud, toward the lonesome fire tower. 

The stairs were just as slick as the grass, and Steve kept a firm grip at your waist. To hold you upright or himself, you weren’t sure, but you felt anchored nonetheless.

When you finally summited, the world around you coated in a thick, grey cloud, you began to strip the soaked clothes from your body. Steve began to lodge firewood from the corner of the room into the little stove. 

“We have to go back out there,” he grunted, lighting a match to kindling before tossing it in. 

You groaned, unsticking your long-sleeve shirt from your back to wheel it over your head. “After lunch.” You pled.

You tried to stand your ground and not cower as Steve’s gaze swept your frame. He licked at pink lips, hair stuck to his face, his own clothes three shades darker than they were when you’d left the tower that morning. 

“After lunch.” He conceded, unbuttoning his shirt. You watched his back muscles shift beneath the outline of a white tank top, the moles placed hither and thither. 

You slipped a dry t-shirt over your head and began boiling water in a pot.

Steve’s knees were pulled to his chest, toes wiggling in dry socks. 

You finished first, famished from your earlier excursion, and continued your knitting. The rhythmic clack of needles a metronome to the rain against the tin roof and pouring from spouts, the crackle of the fire, the steady in-take-out-take of your breath. 

Steve eyed you warily, cheeks puffed around a meatball. He chewed, swallowed, and gestured with a fork toward the project in your lap. “What’re you making?” 

“A hat,” you pinched your smile.

He reached between you to wrap thick fingers around the ball of yarn like a baseball. He pressed the fiber for a moment before nodding, licking something from between his molars. “I really like that color.” 

You agreed. The burgundy would bring out the warmth of his eyes, the flush of his cheeks when he bickered with you.

“It felt good right? Helping Joplin.” 

His words startled you, stitch slipping off the needle before you could catch it. 

You blinked back at him, watched the worry etched between his brows, wondered what he could possibly be thinking, and you forced a bright smile. “Yeah, Steve, it felt great. That’s what this is all about, right? Saving people.” 

He nodded, shrugged, tongued at his molars. 

You can’t save everyone.

You picked your stitch back up and carried on. A few phrases turned in your mind, questions you’d posed to yourself before you dared ask him. ‘Doesn’t every save feel good?’ ‘Do you think Les’s leg’ll be okay?’ ‘Who couldn’t you save?’

You glanced to the spot on the floor where he had been tossing and turning the night before. ‘Who’s Robin?’ You couldn’t. You knew he’d throw himself into one of those broody nightmares, and you had a job to do. 

“So,” you bundled your knitting and stuffed it back into the bag you brought it in, “what’re we thinking? Demodog? Demogorgon? Grizzly?”

“Yeah, you wish it’s a Grizzly.” Steve snorted, making to wash the dishes. 

You did wish it was a Grizzly. At least you could shoot a Grizzly, watch it fall with a groan and lie peaceful against hard ground. Demodogs meant tunnel dwellers, a pack. Demogorgon meant portals. 

“Hey, before we head out there, can I ask you something?” He stood with his hands full of items to be washed, hair finally drying into wisps of curls near his ears. 

“Shoot,” you pulled yourself to a stand, rolled your stiff shoulders, got a little closer to the stove to warm your hands.

“Do I talk in my sleep?” 

You had half a second to make your decision, and “No” came out faster than that. You weren’t sure why you lied, maybe it was the same reason you hadn’t asked him about the name he’d been crying out for. You had a job to do, and you couldn’t afford a sulking partner ten steps ahead. 

His scowl proved he was weighing you up, trying to call your bluff. Apparently he convinced, he shrugged, and said, “Oh, well, you do.” Then he opened the creaky door and let himself outside to do the washing up.

—

The rain continued as you hunted. You slipped twice, twisting an ankle on a bunch of rocks hidden behind tall grass, but you’d had worse, so you persisted until the internal ache wore off and the external ache from the cold had you gritting your teeth. 

“I fucking hate this place.” Steve dropped another meatball into the grass beside you. “It reminds me of that…” He glanced around, in the air, searching for phantom airborne monsters.

You hadn’t gone into the other dimension, not for long enough to really get a feel for it, not like Steve. You knew it was cold and damp and miserable though, and these mountains were starting to feel just as desolate, just as grey. 

You came to the rot again, stench heavier under the blanket of ozone. 

Steve pressed his lips into a whistle, low and slow, coaxing whatever may be lurking. 

Your finger found the trigger at your hip. Bullets didn’t kill an inter dimensional creature, but it’d sure as Hell slow it down.  

Without a response to his call, you carried on, following him and his endless trail of meatballs past the stump in which you’d found Les Joplin. Steve poked his head inside, but vines had already begun to seam it up, devouring the flesh of the tree that rot there. 

“Do you remember what direction he said he saw it?” You asked, back to Steve as you surveyed the area. It could be anywhere, whatever it is. It was probably watching you now, smelling you, sensing you. 

“Let��s head East,” Steve signaled.

You doubled back and headed toward a particularly treacherous outcropping along the hillside. Boulders carved rivulets in the landscape, water gushing over rock and stone in glorious splendor.

Your big toes were beginning to ache from the cold, and the sound of rain and wind and now waterfalls was hurting your ears. With a huff, you seated yourself on a soaked rock and pulled your pack from your back to salvage a chocolate bar. 

“What’re you doing?” Steve snapped. He’d already trudged a good distance from you, and must have stopped when he didn’t hear the patter of your feet behind him. 

“Maybe it was a deer,” you offered, ripping back the mylar packaging and indulging in one semi-sweet bite. It didn’t melt instantly, your teeth and jaw too cold to warm it.

“It wasn’t a deer.” That permanent crease in Steve’s forehead stuck out under a curl of wet hair. 

“Come have a bite.” Your teeth chattered, hand extended. The chocolate was instantly pelted with rain.

Steve sighed and took a step toward you, and then promptly disappeared.

—

The cavern was deep, about ten feet high and thirty feet wide, a whole expanse of the forest that had just sunk in on itself. It looked like the vines hadn’t quite worked their way here, but the blight and the rain had washed away bits of the mountainside. The outcropping fell into the land and Steve had fallen into the rocks.

“Don’t come any closer!” He shouted, teeth grit in pain. He adjusted his leg, and you saw the blood spill from his knee cap to discolor his pant legs. 

“I’m going to radio for help. How bad is it? Do you need to tourniquet it?”

“No , it’s just a scrape.” He lied through his teeth. “I can’t see how far this goes, so go slow, and be careful.” 

With a nod, you made for your pack, muttering under your breath about your bossy partner, always getting himself into trouble. Then the breath was swept out of you as you free-fell into the cavern, too. 

Your ankles rolled, the one from earlier crying out from added injury, and you jaw slammed closed on a portion of your tongue when you hit the cavern floor. It was softer than you expected, wet mud and dirt breaking most of your fall. 

Your name echoed with the pounding of your heart as you regulated and pull yourself to a stand, brushing mud from your hands to your thighs. Water rushed into the cavern from above. Not enough to cause concern, but you stared up at the hole in the sky with a grimace. 

Steve called your name again, and you turned to face him. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, eyes wide with worry. 

You shrugged, nodded. “My ankle hurts.” 

“Is it broken?” 

You assessed the injury, tried to roll it back into place. A sharp, shooting pain spilled up your spinal column. You nodded. “Probably.” 

“I told you to be careful.” Steve scoffed from his lean against the far wall. He’d made no effort to rescue you.

“Is your leg broken?” You mapped your way to him, a slow and steady course through rocky terrain. Each step limped, you gripped the roots tied into the walls beside you. 

“No,” Steve shook his head. “Just a bad cut.” His large hand shook, pressed to a gash that was dying the rainwater red. 

“Well,” you sighed, “if the meatballs weren’t good enough…”

“Shut up,” he shifted in place, hand outstretched to help you over the last huge boulder. “Careful, sharp bit there.” He nodded to a likely culprit, a jagged bit of rock that stuck up at an odd angle. An odd substance pooled near the bottom, and you tried not to wretch when you realized it was likely the fat from Steve’s thigh. 

“We need to get you off your feet.” You instructed, carrying his weight to help him find a good bit of stone that was flat enough, but not too slippery for him to rest. It proved to be quite the undertaking. 

“It stopped raining,” he mused when he’d settled, the two of you wedged into a pit of mud that looked out of the gaping mouth onto grey skies. 

He was right. You hadn’t noticed it beneath the swell of water surging downhill, and the patter that continued on the other edge of the cave, but the rain had stopped, or at least slowed.

“Did you play baseball in high school?” You asked, picking through the rubble for a hefty enough sized rock. 

“Why?” Steve asked, perturbed by your questioning, but you noticed, for once, he didn’t have the energy to argue. 

You could imagine him playing baseball, chewing sunflower seeds in the dug out, hiking around the bases in those tight little white pants. You smiled and tossed him the rock. 

He caught it one-handed, clearly annoyed you’d thrown it in the first place. 

You pointed to the spot you fell. “Throw it really hard. My pack’s up there. Might knock it into the hole.” 

“Your pack-!?” Steve closed his eyes, took a few calming breaths. Then he shot you a look before hocking the rock as far as he could throw. It was very impressive. 

You both waited with bated breath, but the impact created no further damaged, and you slumped into one another, asses wet and legs throbbing. “I have my flare,” you explained, patting the inside pocket of your jacket. You always kept one, and a lighter, filled, just in case.

Steve sighed. “Me too.” He was just loopy enough to flash you a tired smile. 

“Alright, big boy,” you shook at his bicep to keep him alert and shrugged out of your jacket to remove your sweater. The air was warmer down her, and damp. Your breath fogged. “You’re going to have to stay awake until morning. So it’s time to tell me a story.”

Steve winced with each adjustment as you wrapped your sweater around his leg to aid with pressure. His hands still trembled, flesh of his palms bloodied, and you elevated his leg a little higher, pushing him into the mud at his back. 

“What kind of story?” He asked, teeth chattering. 

You hunched beside him and took both of his bloody hands into your own. The whole place smelled of Earth and iron. “Tell me about Indiana.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Come on. What position were you on the baseball team?” 

He grit his teeth and shook his head. “I didn’t play baseball. Track and field.”

You smiled and unzipped his coat to let yourself in, arms wrapped around his trembling frame. You pressed your face to his throat, nestled under the crook of his jaw where stubble had begun to poke and scratch. “Alright, tell me about that then. Did your high school sweetheart cheer you on from the stands? Steve, Steve, he’s our man, if he can’t do it, no one can!” You actually managed to rah a chuckle out of him.

He winced again, his chin bouncing into your head. “She wasn’t a cheerleader. She was on the school paper.” 

You changed your tone, put on a Trans-Atlantic accent. “Aaaaand they’re off. Steve Harrington takes the lead. Have you ever seen anything quicker on its feet? A horse, maybe.”

He snorted, swung his arm around you. “Has anyone ever told you how obnoxious you are?”

“You have,” you nodded. “A number of times. Kind of rude, actually. I’m always saving your ass.” 

He chuckled and mumbled an apology into your hair. 

“What else can you tell me about Indiana?” Your own exhaustion had begun to creep around the corners of your mind, hearing the dull thud of Steve’s heartbeat match the ache in your ankle and shin and thigh. 

When he didn’t respond, you prodded at his chest. “Steve.”

He shushed you, gripping your arm a little tighter. 

You were suddenly very alert. You could hear birdsong just over the ripple and rush of water over the rocks. You heard it too, the distinct clicking growl of a flower-faced beast. 

“Can you move?” Steve muttered into your hair, barely a whisper.

You nodded, swallowed, reached for the flare at your side.

“My knife,” he said. “Can you see it?” He nodded to where you’d found him.

You shifted in his arms, hoping the beast couldn’t hear the grunt he emitted between clenched molars. There, where rubble met a river of mud, you saw the glint of his knife. 

With a deep breath and a strain of every muscle in your body, you hoisted yourself onto your good leg and began your precarious hobble to your weapon. The rocks twisted under your feet, and the pain churned your stomach. 

“Easy,” Steve guided, his breath shallow. “You’ve got this.” 

You managed to dip yourself low enough, balanced on one leg, to wrap your fingers around the hilt and lift it from the rubble. You caught yourself on the wall and released a breath you’d been holding. 

The knife was a bit muddy, but mostly fine. It glinted in the diminishing sunlight, flashing the walls a pale pink red before your heard the call again. A rattled click preceded the visage that peered over the cavern mouth. 

The dog’s face opened, all teeth and fleshy flower petals, and before Steve had a chance to instruct you, the thing was on you, and you were elbow-deep in Demodog. It’s teeth scraped and tore at the nylon of your parka and one final dying breath rattled from its small frame before it squelched off of your blade and to the ground.

“It’s not alone.” Steve warned from his spot on the floor.

You nodded, grit your teeth, and readied your stance for another. 

—

Three demodogs died at your hands and burned. The acrid sting of burning flesh kept you awake, your body rejoicing at the warmth.

You managed to keep Steve awake, although his skin had paled and his eyelids drooped. 

The smoke alerted the helicopter before your flare did. 

Oxygen mask over your face, you linked your fingertips into Steve’s and offered him a smile. He was already asleep by the time you rose, higher and higher above cloud coverage and rain. You slipped up and away from the fire tower. Up and away from verdant hills and from rot and decay. 

Steve’s grasp was loose in your hand, and you wondered what he dreamt about now. You hoped it was peaceful. 

You finished his hat beside his hospital bed while you watched the latest game. Someone ran a home run. Steve cheered. You looped the last few stitches together and weaved in your ends. 

“This is for you,” you tossed it onto his lap. The burgundy was stark against white sheets. 

Steve frowned back at you, fingers toying with the fabric. “For me?” 

You nodded. “You needed a wool hat. Just put it on and be grateful.” 

He did as instructed, smile refusing to play on handsome features. He cocked an eyebrow to get your input. It was exactly as you’d hoped, a sweet contrast that a brought out the honeyed brown of his eyes, the flush of his cheeks. 

You bit back a smile, rolled your eyes. “Maybe you’re right. Your ego doesn’t need this boost. Give it back.” 

He smiled at that, a ruefully shy thing that had your heart pitter-pattering like rain on a tin roof. “No. It’s mine.” 

“Steve,” you let your question linger on your tongue for a moment, wondering if you ought to ask it, if you ought to push. 

He hummed, attention drawn back to the television. 

You swallowed, let the question die. Maybe another day, you’d find out who Robin was, what happened to them. 

“Yeah?” He glanced back at you, brown eyes wide with concern. 

You smiled. “What did I say in my sleep?” 

Once again, the corners of pink lips turned up, and he shook his head. “I’ll never tell.” 

---

Moodboard • 00: Prologue • 02: Home [Coming Soon]

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington #ranged wip #ranged fic #steve harrington slowburn #steve harrington episodic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington whump #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington coworkers to lovers #stranger things #stranger things fic

[onmyyan]

🗡️Psycho🗡️ Anon, here again! #3?

I don’t think you’re ever gettin rid of me now that you’ve told me you like what I’ve submitted to ya. Ya bad for me n my ego. You’re enabling me hun. It does mean a lot to me though and I am very happy I’m makin you foam at the mouth. Your men make me go feral and I obviously have stage 4 brain rot for all your OCs. No treatment for me. No salvation either doc

So here some intense follow up appointment delulu I got from the long ass Ashley Hunt AU story with hard core city girl reader I sent earlier. Buckle up bitch…you’re probably always gonna be in for a long haul with me…

Leavin off from Ash and our HEA, we got twins on the way n shit. And Ash is gonna give us at least another 5 babies too since we his happy lil breedin sow. But we gon speed up in time and not focus too much on dat, cause in the end we got 6 sons and 1 lil baby girl who da youngest. All back to back pregnancies. Ash got dem sexy hot dominant genes and really just gave his sons all the gifts he himself has. Tall, handsome, strong, chivalrous, charismatic, intelligent, etc. (They probably god’s favorites too). And we were like a fuckin printin machine makin copies n wonderin why the fuck we havin so many sons. So we fuckin delighted when we finally got a baby girl and are finally able to put the towel in cause we were also done havin his babies too. We love him. But 7 is plenty…

And so our story is really gonna focus on our lil baby Princess, cause she’s basically gonna be the “new reader insert.” Lil baby Princess grows up as a total daddy’s girl and is also doted on by her 6 big bros. She knows how to do some farm work, though she mostly inside helpin us her mama doin domestic work as it’s a bit more tough takin care of 7 men by oneself and we can always use an extra pair of hands in the kitchen. And you bet Ash is drillin in the same work ethic into his own sons as his own pa did to him. Builds character...

Lil baby Princess grows up wantin more in life. Just like how Ash’s sons inherited near almost everything from him, she inherited near almost everything from us her mama. Princess wanna leave the small town fast and is dead set on doin so when she graduates with her associates degree from the local community college. Her daddy, Ash managed to convince her to stay at the community college first. Get out general eds, stay closer to home before makin the big city leap and potentially getting a bachelors degree. Reluctantly Princess agreed to it but still had to go to the next town over since that’s where the community college is. Her home town is still much smaller…

And so she finally got her associates degree at 21 and is headin to the city to find a job n new life once the summer passes. It’ll be her last summer at home with her family she’s decided. On one of her casual outings ridin a horse she finds a man stuck on the road. Flat tire. Nice car too. He’s very handsome, tall, and muscular…to everyone else. But to Princess he just average and nothin much to look at. That what livin with 7 men built by Greek gods for 21 years does to ya. Makes ya numb to everyone people will conventionally say is beautiful n attractive. And Princess grew up with every woman around her thirstin over one of her bros and her father too. Even women from other towns would find excuses to swing by and gawk at the 7 men workin on the farm. So needless to say Princess isn’t wooed by men’s appearances…

Princess decides to help the poor fellow out cause her daddy raised her right. Offers him up a ride on her horse and tells the man she’ll call a truck for his car later. The man accepts and thinkin she’ll have to help him up on the horse for some time, the man easily mounts on the horse like it’s the second nature? And in an expensive suit too? She shakes it off and they go back to the Hunt farm…

During the ride the man asks Princess her name and what not (and I guess it’d still be Y/N cause the excuse is that she was named after her mama by Ash’s demands). Princess asks his name too, he gives it to her, and then no more talking on her end. This confuses the man as all his life people have usually wanted to make conversation with him. Or have usually always commented on his beautiful appearance by now. But not Princess. She really doesn’t give a shit about a stranded man’s life story. She’s here to do a job and get on with her life. And of course she’s immune to beauty at this point…

They finally come to the Hunt residence where Princess puts away her horsie and fixes up the man some water and food, bein a good host and all. She calls up the local mechanic and informs them of the details. Princess then just straight up leaves the man and tells him if he wants to take a nap, shower, whatever, to help himself. This is a fuckin power move as Princess has truly run out of shits to give in life. And she still ain’t tryin to converse at all with the man. Man is livid right now. Seeing Princess’s eyes filled with indifference. He confused as fuck too. Wonderin if she mentally sound or this is some country culture etiquette he doesn’t understand…

Now for the good shit. The Hunt men all come in as with so many hands workin on the farm now, shit gets done exponentially faster even though they got more stock and stuff over the years. They a little confused at first seein a posh lookin man greet them. But nothin gets bad as the man quickly explains the situation that happened. And the man is stunned to lookin at all these 7 aesthetically gorgeous men. The man is very confident in his own looks and it rarely happens in his life that he starts to get a bit insecure about them…

Ash asks the man where his daughter is, and the man replies that she just left? Much to the laughter of Ash’s 6 sons howling that “they’ll have nothing to ever worry about” with Princess. The man’s ego is damaged at this point. Is he unattractive? Is he undesirable? But he easily keeps a calm and collected face and voice…

The Hunt men politely excuse themselves having to go wash up from workin all day, leaving the man all alone again. We the mama enter the area, having heard commotion n stuff. We were preparing dinner n stuff in the kitchen which was far away. We go through same process and introduce and meet the mystery man. The phone rings and it’s the mechanic tellin us that the car won’t be ready for quite some time and the man will have to hitch a ride out of town if he’s got somewhere to be urgently. We inform the man and also ask if he got a place to stay. He don’t since he was just drivin by the town, so we offer him our home for the time bein. He hesitantly accepts…

Man decides to converse with us instead since we’re the most hospitable and social person he’s met in the family. He asks about our family and we do him. He keeps his background vague and we get the hint not to pock around. He really is just curious about our daughter, the Princess of the family. And we happily tell him all about her. Her hopes and dreams n stuff. Much to his delight that Princess seems like a normal human being n not a mechanical doll…

And that when he get the idea to propose to Princess later to take her with him out of the town to see the city and new places. Cause while he hasn’t fallen in love with her at first sight or anything like Ash did, there’s something about us that’s drawing him near. Perhaps it is our absolute indifference to him, and the fact that he just wants to prove something to himself. He wants to “figure us out.” Princess is a bit of a conquest and trophy to him, and he’s not afraid to admit that. So what’s the harm in this mutually future beneficial relationship? He’ll provide for Princess to get out of town and be able to see the world, and in turn he’ll get us to fall for him. The perfect plan. Nothing can go wrong…

A Princess for a Grand Duke, isn’t that fitting? Though the man will keep that a secret for as long as he can. If she asks questions about his wealth he’ll just pretend he’s an investor or something. One things for sure, Princess will definitely keep him entertained for a long time. A really really really long time…⁄(⁄ ⁄ ⁄ω⁄ ⁄ ⁄)⁄

And scene! I just love imaginin different flavors of a yandere stories. Like dis one is obviously a much more slower burn than the whirlwind romance of Ash and his wifey. And it’d really follow the descent of madness of a Grand Duke yandere who’s truly falling into love and obsession over his lady. He thinkin he in control at first but realize steadily fast that he can’t live without her. And to make it worse, he never lose control of things in his life. Not his looks, his composure, etc. so it makes this predicament even nastier for him to deal with. But lucky for us Princess, havin grown up with Ash as our daddy and 6 big bros who also have some questionable “protective” tendencies, we have a bit of a contorted sense of love too. So our “normal” is much different than other people’s “normal”

Also did you like the hint I dropped in dis drabble about the mystery man’s background? It was about him being able to easily get up on a horse despite being in a suit and lookin all fancy and stuff. Cause not many people can do that. So you either know how to do it as a career…or as a hobby…

Final thought as to why a Grand Duke yandere ya thinkin? From your OCs ya got the Delmonts who are criminal flavor, then Ash who’s country flavor, and then other popular yandere archetypes tend to be royalty, famous, or CEO more often than not. So I thought that royalty would be fun since it’d give the new leadin man not just an abundance of financial power but social power as well that CEO power might lack. Ya know…since royals can have diplomatic immunity and CEOs pretty much don’t. Some new flavors for the spice cabinet is always good. Besides I also just wanna see a man abuse his absolute power with impunity in yandere stories sometimes…So if ya ever decide to make a new yandere OC. Here an idea. I don’t mind ya usin it and I’d be thrilled if ya did

Love 🗡️Psycho🗡️ Anon

A/N: OKAYA THE INSTANT BRAIN ROT THIS GSVE ME SBDJDKD YOU DID IT AGAIN MY LOVE OMG THE WAYYY I INSTANTLY FELL IN LOVE WJTH THIS PIECE EEEE THE SIX OLDER BROTHERS WHO ARE CARBON COPIES OF ASH??? HELLO??? AMAZING WRITING THAT DOWN Holy FUCK‼️‼️‼️💗👄💗 NOT TO MENTION THE DUKE EEEEEEEE AND PRINCESS IS SUCH A PERFECT NICKNAME FOR BABY GIRL I CANNOT YOUR MIND IS SO BEAUTIFUL THANK YOU FOR FEEDING ME AND US ONCE AGAIN😩😩😩😩❤️❤️❤️UR POOKIE FR HERE SUM V SMALL BEC MY BRAIN IMMEDIATELY STARTED HAPPY DANCING W THIS CONCEPT

Princess stared at the man, her hard (e/c) eyes unwaivering, unmoving in their glare. She sucked her teeth, hearing her father's voice in her head as she stuck her hand up waving the stranger over.

"Get on, we'll take you somewhere safe, get this all figured out yea?" Princess says, no hint of suggestion in her soft voice. The stranger staggered for a moment before offering her his famous grin, a smile that had gotten him far in his life, "Thank you- really you're too kind, what's your name?" He says smoothly mounting the horse, expecting some fanfare from the desert rose before him, but instead he got a stiff nod and, "(Y/n)." was all he got.

She clicked her tongue and the horse took off, she hadn't waited to see if he was situated, a small smile on her face as she heard him gasp at their sudden departure.

#yananswers #anon submission #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere oc x reader #new yanderes alert‼️‼️‼️‼️ #psycho anon you have my whole entire heart

[kraekat29]

Day Two- Titanic AU

April 10th, 1912

Ruby stood on the docks with John B as he read over the tickets for the millionth time, eyebrows furrowed as he once again read the note their father had left before he went missing.

Ruby didn’t seem to mind, she saw America as a fresh start, an opportunity for her to be a successful artist, and John B a well off fisherman.

But her stomach soured as she looked at the huge engagement ring on her finger; Rafe Cameron, her forced fiancé would also be joining them along with his family.

Rafe and his family were first class, but instead of extending the offer to John B and Ruby, he let them be casted away down to third class.

Meanwhile, JJ sat in the bar with Pope, two other men; Olaf and Sven; sat across from them. The four playing a game of poker.

The table was littered with loose change and cash, a pocket watch, a swissarmy knife, but most importantly, two first class tickets to the R.M.S. Titanic.

JJ brushed his hair out of his eyes, bringing his cigarette up to his lips, taking a drag before exhaling the smoke; flicking the ashes into the small circular tray.

“JJ c’mon man..” Pope whispered, eyeing his own cards nervously, “nothing to lose right..?”JJ whispered back, drawing another card from the stack.

Pope shook his head, bringing his glass up to his lips and taking a long sip of the beer; JJ was impulsive, one wrong move and they’d be living under a bridge.

JJ’s lips twitched into a smirk as he eyed his cards, faking sadness as he sighed, “Pope I’m sorry..” he muttered and Pope’s heart dropped into his stomach as he opened his mouth to respond.

“I’m sorry we won’t be staying here anymore. We’re going to America! Full house boys!” JJ cheered, slamming his cards down onto the table.

Pope sighed in relief, the two best friends quickly gathering their things, money and tickets before hauling ass to the ship- they only had five minutes.

Thankfully they made it in time, making their way to the rooms and getting adjusted- man first class rooms were incredible.

JJ couldn’t wait to go home.

April 11th, 1912

Ruby was miserable, forced to be around Rafe at practically every second. She felt as though she was suffocating, unable to handle the weight of having to be perfect at all times.

Every now and then Sarah would give her a sympathetic look before going back to talking to Sage, the Medici’s daughter, the family was very close with the Cameron’s.

John B was having a better time, focusing on the water and his newfound admiration for Sage, he hoped that she would notice him.

Ruby zoned out at the dinner table, a look of longing and disgust on her face as Rafe kept whispering in her ear. She couldn’t handle this life anymore.

Afterwards Ruby stood in her room, frantically trying to get out of the fancy clothes, sobbing as she yanked her hair out of its fancy updo.

She gave up and ran out of the room, knocking into to several people as she ran up to the first class deck, makeup, dress and hair a wreck as loud sobs left her lips.

Ruby made her way to the stern, her hands finding the railing as tears streamed down her face- she felt guilty for leaving her brother behind, but it all had become too much.

She couldn’t imagine a life with Rafe Cameron, not one she wanted. And she knew this was her only way out.

She took a shaky breath and nodded to herself, climbing over the railing and turning so her back was against it, looking down into the crashing waves below.

Ruby swallowed hard, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to do, getting ready to let go.

“don’t do it..” JJ’s voice rung out and she turned her head, eyes wide, “stay back! don’t come any closer! I’ll let go, I mean it!” Ruby weakly threatened, her voice cracking.

JJ thought for a moment before showing her the cigarette between his fingers, stepping closer to throw it over the railing.

“no you won’t..” He said and she scoffed, “what makes you think I won’t?” She questioned.

“well if you jump in I’m gonna have to jump in there after you” JJ said casually, “are you insane? You’ll be killed” Ruby said, glancing back at him.

JJ shrugged, a smile playing on his lips, “I guess that’s kinda why I’m hoping you’ll help me out here..” he said, holding out his hand to her.

Ruby nodded once, reaching back and intertwining her hand with his, allowing him to help her slowly turn back around.

“I’m JJ.. JJ Maybank..” He offered with a smile, “Ruby Routledge..” She breathed out, looking in his eyes.

Ruby went to step up on the rail, her high heel getting stuck on the end of her dress and causing her to slip with a shrill scream, JJ’s hands automatically finding her arm.

Her eyes were wide with fear, both of her hands desperately clinging to his, “don’t- don’t let go please!” She sobbed, her body starting to shake, “ hey! Hey I’ve got you alright? I won’t let go.. I promise” He said.

Ruby nodded, both of them using all their strength to pull her back onto the ship, the two of them tumbling onto the deck in a heap.

Two crew members ran over, no doubt hearing her screams, and unfortunately, the two of them looked to be in a sketchy situation.

Ruby felt guilty as the handcuffs were placed on JJ, looking down in shame as Rafe began to scream at him.

“Rafe! He didn’t do anything! I slipped” Ruby said, it wasn’t the whole truth, but at least she could protect JJ.

“what..?” Rafe breathed out, “I was leaning over the railing and I slipped” Ruby lied, JJ giving her a questioning look.

“You slipped?” Rafe questioned, “I was leaning far over to see the um, uh, the- the propellers! And I slipped! And I would’ve gone over if it wasn’t for Mr. Maybank here, he almost went over himself trying to save me” Ruby explained, clasping her hands together.

After that it all worked out, JJ was released and even invited to join them at dinner, and suddenly Ruby could breathe a little easier.

She paid no mind when Rafe presented her with the heart of the ocean that night, she knew it was all just for show.

She wished JJ was the man she was set to marry.

April 12th, 1912

Ruby spent the day with JJ, getting to know all about him and thanking him profusely for the night before, eager to show her gratitude in some way.

He told her over and over again that he didn’t need anything in return, so she showed him her sketchbook and learned he was also an artist himself.

Every minute Ruby felt herself falling harder and harder for JJ, wishing she could live a carefree life with him.

They even made plans to travel together once the ship docked, she silently prayed those plans weren’t a false promise.

When it was time for dinner Ruby took pride in the way she looked, she could clean up nice for a third class girl.

She walked to the grand staircase with a newfound happiness in knowing she would be seeing JJ, also feeling happiness for John B as Sage had asked him to escort her to dinner.

Ruby swore her heart stopped when she saw JJ at the bottom of the staircase, he could clean up really well- however she was eager to mess up his hair, the slicked back look didn’t suit him.

He flashed her a smile, watching as she placed her hand in his, their fingers intertwining, however the moment was short lived.

“well Maybank. Looks like you can clean up nice” Rafe sneered, looping his arm through Sarah’s who rolled her eyes in response, clearly unimpressed that her brother was going to be escorting her tonight.

JJ however paid no mind to the comments, placing a soft kiss on the back of Ruby’s hand that made her heart do a flip, blood rushing to her cheeks in a scarlet glow.

She looped her arm through his, a quiet laugh escaping her lips as he pretended to be snobby, grinning as he was able to get her to relax.

Ruby couldn’t remember a time she’d felt at this at ease, or had butterflies in her stomach- Rafe had never made her feel this way.

The whole night the table tried making jabs at JJ, but he would just laugh it off and come up with some witty reply. He didn’t seem to care what they thought of him.

By the end of dinner Ruby could feel her happiness slipping away, sadness creeping in as she realized JJ would have to go and she would be alone until Rafe and her brother were done drinking brandy and smoking cigarettes.

“bye JJ..” Ruby said quietly, a soft smile on her lips as JJ held her hand, “I’ll see you around..” JJ promised, kissing the back of her hand before walking away, glancing back at her.

She felt a piece of paper in her hand and her eyes widened as she read it,

‘meet me at the clock. Make it count.’

Ruby smiled and glanced around, realizing no one was paying attention and stood, making her way to the staircase.

The two locked eyes as he stood at the top of the steps, a smirk playing on his lips as he held his hand out to her.

“ so, you wanna go to a real party?”

April 13th, 1912

Ruby had spent the entire night down in third class with JJ, she’d met Pope and his girlfriend Cleo.

Things were going great, until she realized Rafe had sent Kiara to find out where she was as she wasn’t there to greet him in his room.

Ruby made her way up to first class, annoyed of how she had a third class ticket but Rafe had bribed workers into letting her into first class areas.

That’s how she ended up on the balcony with Rafe, mixing the sugar in her tea as she admired the water.

“I’d hoped you’d accompany me last night.” Rafe said flatly, “I was tired.. I went to bed early” Ruby said quietly, taking a small sip of her tea.

Rafe scoffed and shook his head, “I’m sure you’re excursions below deck were exhausting no doubt” Rafe said coldly.

Ruby looked down into her tea cup before straightening up, “you had your little lap dog follow me?” She asked and Rafe remained quiet.

“Rafe. I’m not some worker you can command. I’m your fiancé.” Ruby quipped and Rafe laughed, “my fiancé? Then be my fiancé!” Rafe shouted, throwing the table across the deck.

He lent down and tightly wrapped his hand around her throat, “my wife in practice if not yet by law. You will honor me the way a wife is required to honor a husband. Do I make myself clear?” Rafe growled and Ruby nodded frantically.

He let go of her throat and left the room, leaving her struggling to catch her breath as the maid came over to clean up the mess.

“I-I’m so sorry.. l-let me h-help..” Ruby choked out, sinking to the floor and struggling to clean up the glass with shaking hands, “it’s alright miss.. it’s alright..” The maid soothed.

Ruby let out a strangled sob, her hand clutching her chest as her eyes were filled with nothing but pure terror.

Later that morning Ruby mostly stayed quiet during the church service, stood between Rafe and John B, still feeling her anxiety.

She forced herself to zone out, which is why she didn’t notice JJ was trying to get her attention and later being removed.

She didn’t utter a single word, well until Mr. Andrews was showing them the lifeboats, she quickly pointed out that it didn’t seem there were enough.

Mr. Andrews found her knowledge extraordinary, but Rafe found it annoying, harshly pinching her hip before catching up with everyone else.

Ruby stayed back for a moment, wiping away a few stray tears that had fallen before beginning to walk again, shrieking as JJ pulled her into the gym.

“JJ I-i can’t..” Ruby rushed out, trying to leave but JJ caught her by the arms, “I just had to make sure you’re alright..” JJ murmured.

She swallowed hard and fought back tears, “I’m fine.. really I am..” She whispered, “Rubes..” He said quietly.

“JJ I’m engaged to Rafe. I love him, really I do” She said, it was a total lie but she had to do this, “I don’t believe you..” He said, searching her eyes.

“You jump I jump Rubes.. I can’t walk away without knowing you’ll be alright..” JJ whispered, “I’ll be fine..” Ruby choked out.

“you’re gonna die if you don’t get out Rubes.. that fire I love about you? He’s gonna put it out..” JJ reasoned, cradling her cheek in his hand, “I have to go..” Ruby murmured, pulling away and walking out.

At tea she sat with Rose, Wheezie, Kiara, Sarah and Sage- and as the girls gossiped Ruby realized just how terrible this life would be, so she stood up and left.

Ruby made her way to the front of the ship, finding JJ there, leaning over the railing and watching the waves, her heart fluttered as she admired him.

“JJ..” She called out, a soft smile on her lips as he turned to face her, “I changed my mind..” She said softly, automatically putting her hand in his as he held it out to her.

“do you trust me?” He asked, “always..” She responded, allowing him to help her up onto the railing, subconsciously leaning her body back into his as he stood behind her.

Something about him made her feel free, like she wasn’t being tied down. She felt loved and god was it an incredible feeling.

Ruby didn’t know what came over her in that moment, but she turned her head, capturing JJ’s lips in her own, in the most passionate kiss she’d ever had.

After that she followed JJ to his room, he said he wanted to draw her and she took him up on the offer, looking around his room in awe.

Ruby reached into her purse, grabbing the heart of the ocean, feeling its weight in her palm- Rafe saw her as a possession, not a real thing. Much like this diamond.

She smiled to herself and presented it to JJ, laughing quietly at his reaction, “he always said I was scandalous.. but uh.. I understand if you don’t want to-“ She started, “I’ll do it..” He breathed out.

Ruby was a virgin, it was true, no man had ever seen her bare before- this was embarrassing and somehow erotic for them both.

But the way he treated her with respect, every now and then cracking jokes to ease her mind through it all only made her fall harder for him.

After it was over Ruby stood behind JJ, admiring the drawing with red cheeks, in awe of it.

“thank you..” she whispered, giving him a small kiss that quickly turned heated.

The two of them snuck into Rafe’s room, putting the necklace back into the safe along with the drawing and note.

Ruby went to change her clothes into something more comfortable while JJ went outside to have a smoke, shivering as he realized how cold it was.

A knock sounded on the door and Kiara’s voice rung out, Ruby quickly grabbed JJ’s hand, the two of them sneaking out the back door.

They both quickly took off running, Kiara chasing them until they got to the elevator, jumping in as Ruby waved to Kiara and held up her middle finger.

But once lower she found them again, the two quickly running into the boiler room to get away, but the workers noticed them.

So they ran again, running and laughing until they got into the storage room, finally finding a quiet place to hide as JJ led them to the car.

Ruby sat in the back, admiring him as he was like a little kid, unable to help herself as she pulled him into the back with her, snuggling up against him.

She looked into his eyes, playing with his fingers until she brought them to her lips, kissing each one until he got the message of what she wanted, connecting their lips in a heated kiss as he laid her down against the seat.

After that it was all a blur, all she could focus on was his body rocking into hers, her hand slapping against the window as she came undone.

She held him close as he laid his head against her chest, petting his hair as they shared a few more heated kisses.

The afterglow was short lived as they heard voices, both scrambling to get dressed and running some place to hide, laughing as they found the empty car and running out the side door.

JJ spun Ruby around outside, spinning her around as their laughter echoed until she held the sides of his face.

“when the ship docks.. I’m getting off with you..” She whispered, looking in his eyes, “this is insane..” He breathed out and she giggled, “I know, that’s why I trust it..” She said, allowing him to pull her into another kiss.

But little did they know tragedy was about to strike, an iceberg was right ahead, but there was too much speed and not enough time to miss it.

A horrid screeching sounded out as the iceberg completely tore apart the starboard side, the lower quarters filling up with water in a matter of seconds.

April 14th, 1912

Everyone was in a calm panic, the workers trying to hide that the ship had struck an iceberg, but JJ and Ruby overheard and immediately went to go find John B.

But once inside she was met with a very angry Rafe Cameron and the Master of arms who began to search JJ.

“Rafe what’s going on?” Ruby demanded, “something very dear to me has been stolen.” Rafe hissed.

Ruby’s heart dropped as the necklace was pulled from JJ’s pocket, “ Rue- baby c’mon you know I didn’t..” JJ tried, but she was in too much of a state of shock to reply, not even hearing his shouts of her name as he was drug away.

She stood there for a few moments, replaying everything in her head, there’s no way JJ could’ve taken the necklace, she was the one who put it away and he didn’t know the code.

Rafe stood across from her, his jaw set as he eyed her in disgust, it was clear he had found her drawing and read the note.

“Rafe I-“ She started, yelping as he back handed her so hard that her head whipped to the other side, a bright red handprint already forming.

Ruby clutched her cheek, trying to process what just happened and recover from the dizziness as one of the crew members came in.

She barely heard what was said as she put on her jacket, following everyone else to the grand staircase, waiting for the next bout of orders.

Ruby overheard Mr Andrews saying that the ship was indeed going to sink and her heart dropped, JJ was down in the crew section of the ship. There’s no way he’d be let on a lifeboat.

Her heart raced as she followed everyone outside onto the deck- she couldn’t leave JJ here to die for a crime he didn’t even commit.

She saw her brother with Sage, it turns out she had dressed him as a woman to guarantee he would safely get off the ship.

Ruby felt her heart ease at that, at least John B would be safe from any harm.

She eyed the lifeboat, her nose wrinkling in anger, “Ruby. Get on the boat” Rose beckoned, “Rose, Sarah.. I’m sorry. Kie take my seat.” Ruby said and backed away.

She couldn’t do this, she’d rather die trying to save the man she loved then leave and be forced to marry an abuser.

“Ruby! What are you doing!” Rafe growled, grabbing her by the shoulders, “ let go of me!” Ruby yelled, “look at you. A whore to a gutter rat! It’s a shame really, that drawing would be worth so much more by morning” Rafe seethed.

Ruby searched his eyes and shook her head, “you unimaginable bastard..I’d rather be his whore than your wife..” She breathed out , fighting against him as he tried to bring her back to him, hauling back and spitting right in his face.

She used his shock and took a her chance to run like hell, determined to find JJ and get him out of there.

She found Mr. Andrews, begging and pleading with him until he told her exactly where JJ was, she didn’t care if the elevators were closed. She needed to get down there.

Ruby swallowed hard as the elevator filled with water, shoving past the worker as she made her way out, repeating the room number out loud until she found what one he was in.

“ JJ! JJ I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Ruby cried, trudging through the water to get to him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Rubes..” JJ breathed out, kissing her forehead, “I’m gonna get you out okay? ‘M gonna help..” Ruby murmured.

“It was a silver key. I don’t know where he put it” JJ said and she nodded, searching the whole room for the key, wanting to cry in frustration as she only found brass ones.

“I’m gonna find someone okay? I promise I’m not leaving you here” Ruby said, kissing JJ one last time before running out, determined to find someone, anyone who could get him out.

She ran up and down every hallway, shuddering in fear as the power went in and out, but she had to do this, she had to save him.

Ruby saw the axe and nodded to herself, smashing the glass and grabbing it, running down to the stairwell.

She swallowed hard as the water was almost fully up the steps, she shrugged off her jacket and grabbed the axe, gasping as she was met with freezing cold water.

But Ruby was determined, shivering as she trudged through the water, axe held tightly in her hands as she made her way into the room, her lips already tinged blue.

“this is all I could find..” Ruby said, shivering violently, “ alright- alright do a couple practice swings, we only got one shot” JJ said and she nodded.

She did a couple swings like he said but there wasn’t enough time- she made her way over to him, her hands shaking from how cold she was.

He nodded once at her and she squeezed her eyes shut, swinging the axe and cutting the handcuffs off of him.

JJ cheered in relief, grabbing the sides of Ruby’s face and pulling her into a kiss, gasping in shock as he went into the water.

The two couldn’t go the way out, so they had to break through one of the moldings, finally glad to be out of the freezing water.

Now they just had to make it all the way up to the lifeboats.

Up top Rafe was searching for Ruby and trying to get on his own boat, pacing around as people were starting to go into a frenzy.

JJ and Ruby ended up in third class, finding Pope and Cleo fighting to get the gate unlocked, but the worker was refusing to help them.

Cleo wrapped Ruby in a blanket, noticing the way she was still violently shaking as JJ and Pope tried to form a plan of how to get out.

The other gate was no use either, so JJ and Pope did the only thing they could, ripping the bench out of the floor and smashing it through the gate, JJ helping Ruby up and over.

The four of them stuck together, frantically moving through crowds of people- so many people that it made Ruby’s head spin.

They found a boat on the other side, but Cleo was unwilling to leave Pope behind, she loved him too much.

Ruby’s eyes frantically searched the area, her heart sinking as Rafe came up behind them.

“Ruby c’mon.. baby get on the boat..” JJ whispered and she shook her head, “no.. not without you..” Ruby whispered back, tears already filling her eyes.

“there’s a boat for men. But you better hurry Ruby. This one’s almost full” Rafe said and she shrunk in on herself, “ see? I got my own boat to catch” JJ said softly.

Rafe put his jacket on Ruby and she cringed, searching JJ’s eyes, she didn’t want to leave him behind.

But she didn’t have a chance to respond before she was being pulled onto the boat, tears streaming down her face.

“there’s uh.. there’s no boat is there?” JJ asked and Rafe smirked, “oh there is. Just not for you” Rafe said cockily.

Ruby’s eyes frantically searched everything around her, she couldn’t do this.

So she jumped, right off the lifeboat and onto one of the lower levels, both of them running as fast as they could to get to each other.

At the bottom of the staircase, Ruby jumped into JJ’s arms as she sobbed between feverish kisses, “you jump I jump right?” She cried, “right..” he breathed out, his voice cracking.

The moment was short lived as Rafe came in, he had finally snapped and pulled out a gun, shooting at them as JJ and Ruby ran, getting away.

They ran until their legs hurt, pausing as they heard a little boy crying, going down the steps and following the sound.

“we can’t leave him..” Ruby said and JJ nodded in agreement, running over and grabbing the little boy as they frantically searched for a way out.

The boys father came out, yelling at them as he went the wrong way, the water breaking through as JJ and Ruby fought to outrun it, getting swept up until they landed against a gate, using it as leverage to get up to the stairs.

Ruby shook the gate and so did JJ, “no- no god!” Ruby choked out, the two of them saw a working, begging for his help to unlock the gate.

But in his panicked rush, he dropped the keys into the water and made a run for it. Ruby sobbed, begging him not to go as JJ went under, finding the keys.

The two chose one and went for it, Ruby sobbing in fear as the water climbed higher as JJ struggled to get the key in.

Eventually he got it unlocked, the two of them frantically going through and up the steps, shivering from the water.

They made their way back up to the deck, keeping a tight grip on each other as they made their way through the crowds.

They made their way to the stern, they could feel it starting to lift as they struggled to make their way up, gripping each others hand tighter.

Ruby was terrified, she didn’t know if they would even survive this, no ships were responding to the SOS signals. They were all doomed.

They found Pope and Cleo again, the couple in a similar situation as them, clinging to each other for warmth and safety as they held onto the rails.

Ruby tucked herself against JJ, scared tears streaming down her face, “JJ.. this is where we first met..” She breathed out.

JJ held her tighter, pulling her small frame up further as he kissed the top of her head, refusing to let her go.

The screams were terrifying, of horror, of sadness or even both. But whatever the cause, Ruby knew it would be engraved into her brain forever.

The stern began to rise more and more, JJ moved over the railing, helping Ruby do the same as Pope and Cleo copied their actions.

Ruby’s fingers gripped the railing tightly with one hand, while the other had a death grip on JJ’s, feeling her stomach churn as she watched so many people fall.

She watched one man jump off the ship, hitting off the propellers with a sickening crunch. She’d never get that image out of her head.

Suddenly the ship lost power and split in half, the stern slamming down into the water before being drug back up.

Ruby shook in fear, sobbing as JJ kept a tight hold on her, looking down into the dark ocean below.

He talked her through it, easing her mind the tiniest bit as he tried to distract her from all the screams.

They shared a look with Pope and Cleo, both couples wishing each other good luck and hoping they would survive this as the stern began to sink.

Ruby sobbed as the water came faster, not once letting go of JJ’s hand, taking a deep breath when he said as the stern went under.

The two were met with freezing water, struggling to keep hold of each other as the suction forced them apart.

Ruby swam up, frantically searching for JJ and calling out his name, sobbing in fear as she couldn’t find him, swimming as far as she could.

Eventually they found each other and JJ led Ruby to a large piece of wood, helping her on first then getting on after.

The two shivered, spotting Pope and Cleo a bit away, sighing in relief as they were safe.

JJ and Ruby huddled against each other, shivering violently as they struggled for some type of warmth.

“it’s alright.. we’ll be alright now.. the boats are gonna come back for us Rubes..” JJ promised, kissing the side of her head, Ruby nodded, too weak to do anything else.

Hours went by and there was still no boats, the screams had gone down and now the darkness was eerily quiet.

Ruby looked up at the stars, lips blue, eyes hazy and skin covered in ice, JJ looked the same.

“I love you JJ..” Ruby murmured, “don’t.. don’t say it like that, we aren’t saying goodbye yet.. we’re gonna survive okay..? And we’re gonna get married and die old and in bed together alright..? Not here..” JJ promised and Ruby sobbed.

“winning that ticket is the best thing that ever happened to me.. it brought me to you..” JJ choked out, the two of them clinging to each other tighter.

Another hour went by and Ruby could feel her body giving up, she could still hear JJ’s breaths, but his were also becoming labored.

Suddenly she saw a flash of light and blinked, sitting up as ice cracked off her and JJ, she saw it again. It was a flashlight.

“JJ.. the boats..” Ruby gasped out, “g-go..” JJ shuddered, he was too weak to move, Ruby searched his eyes and nodded.

She forced herself to swim, going over to the man with the whistle and grabbing it, using all her strength to blow it.

It must’ve worked because the boat came back, she begged them to get JJ and they did. Huddling against each other as they were wrapped in blankets and given hot tea.

“you scared me.. i-i thought you were gonna die..” Ruby cried, nuzzling herself against him, “I promised you I wouldn’t baby.. I promised..” JJ soothed, wiping her tears away.

Once on the Carpathia, the two realized the heart of the ocean was in Ruby’s pocket, and once they docked at New York City they claimed it had been lost at sea and got the insurance money.

She took his last name on the boat, they had gotten engaged as soon as they stepped foot in New York, they didn’t want to wait.

JJ had stayed true to his word, they moved to the Outer Banks; Cleo and Pope joined them and she found John B and Sage as well.

JJ and Ruby got married and had two kids while running a successful business; they lived to tell the tale of what had happened that night.

And JJ was right, they went together old and warm in their bed.

But the best part? Was in heaven JJ was back to that same eighteen year old she fell in love with, that wildness in his eyes. And she was seventeen all over again, kissing him as though it was the very first time.

She was home.

#Spotify #jj maybank #ruby routledge #jj maybank smut #obx #obx fic #outer banks #juby #juby week 2024

[ashes-writing]

the power of love | stranger things ; s.harrington

A/N ;  …. so …. I couldn’t pick between Eddie and Steve. And apparently, my idiot brain decided well hey, just write similar versions/plots for both your babies, Ashes. So here we are. This is yet another x reader mini series. Each version has it’s own take on a Henderson!fem reader -this one is artsy/stoner/smart as fuck but also kind of an airhead / likes to be a little antagonist / a huuuuge caretaker vibe, just an fyi. I’ll keep them both going but feedback is a motivator as to how frequently they’ll get updated. Right now, this is all I got, babes. So if you wanna see more, idk. We’ll see.

An fyi, this starts off kind of similar / has a similar plot to the Eddie one I just posted which is found -> here and yes... both are named after songs.

PAIRING ; Steve Harrington x Henderson!Fem reader

TIMELINE / OTHER STUFF TO NOTE ;  As stated in all my other x reader fics that belong to Stranger things, the Upside Down and all it’s unholy horrors are left out. The timeline for this is 84 almost the weekend after Nancy and Steve's break-up. If you like normal / slice of life / romance-y type shit, this is that.

TAG LIST ; @musichealsscars @hcloangcls @allelitesmut and @aries-arcade are the only ones currently on my Stranger Things tag. I throw out a courtesy tag to @rampagewriting -feel free to ignore if you wanna bb. if you’d like to be added to my taglists for ANYTHING including Stranger Things, please let me know or add yourself -> here.

WARNINGS ; reader is a bit of an airheaded troublemaker, kissing/making out / eventual filth, spontaneous + wild daredevil reader (trust me. this needs a warning), mention of the devils lettuce, mention of underage drinking, at some point there's a real good possibility that Billy gets told tf off because he picks on steve and intimidates Lucas and those kids are readers babies i s2g.

OTHER STUFF ; tag list doc || my rules - fandoms and some characters I write for || REQUESTS ARE OPEN (PLS.. PLS… SEND ME THINGS) BUT THEY’RE LIMITED TO HEADCANON ASKS + FILTH/FLUFF ALPHABET LETTERS AND I’M NOT ACCEPTING WRESTLING / WRESTLERS IN MY ASK BOX. ANY OTHER FANDOM/CHARACTER BUT WRESTLING THAT I HAPPEN TO WRITE FOR IS FINE AND I BEG OF YOU -> SEND ME THINGS.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING REPOSTED ELSEWHERE OR COPIED/REWORKED/REWRITTEN AND REPOSTED HERE OR ELSEWHERE. YOU DON’T OWN THIS, I DO. SO LIKE… DON’T STEAL MY SHIT.

You dash down the noisy hallway, your clothes and body a multitude of different colors. You’re wielding a paintbrush as you chase down your friend Valerie, taunting her with what will happen when you finally catch her. As you all but baseball slide around a corner in the hallway because the floor is wet, you smash into Steve Harrington, who is standing in the middle of the hallway, shooting the shit with Tommy Hagan..

The collision sends you onto the floor with an unceremonious “Hmmph.” as you settle on it on your ass. You’re about to quickly scramble to your feet but Steve reaches down and grabs hold of your hand wordlessly, hauling you up off the floor. When he pulls just a little too hard, you’re thrust right up against him and for a second or two, you linger. Because the scent of his hairspray and his cologne are calming somehow and you need to catch your breath before you go hauling ass away to find Valerie and finish your little paint war.

And then, with a cute little smile as you begrudgingly pull yourself away from the guy, you’re off to the races again. Steve breathes in and out. His breath is just a little shakier and he can’t help but notice it. The scent of vanilla, apple shampoo and something spicier are clinging to his body and stuck in his nose. Tommy snickers to himself quietly.

“She’s been in our homeroom class the past three years, Harrington. You seriously noticed Nancy Wheeler before her?” Tommy’s brow is raised as if the realization has him puzzled. Steve scowls at Tommy and tries to downplay as if everything is absolutely fine and there’s absolutely nothing  going on in his head at the moment.

To be fair, there really isn’t.

When he pulled you up off the hallway floor and the end result was your body gently catapulted right up against his, it’s as if his brain went brrr.

“You’re an idiot. There’s no nice way to say it, man. If given the choice between her and Nancy Wheeler…” Tommy chuckles and throws up his hands when Steve’s response to his words is a cross scowl. 

“The worst you’d have to worry about outta her is what weird fuckin awkward situation she’s gonna get in the middle of next, Harrington. Like… she’s real smart… Just isn’t on a first name basis with common sense or thinking things through… It’s an artist thing, I think.” Tommy points out, his words dying away in a quiet laugh.

Steve’s brow raises. Tommy goes on to explain that you’re just a little on the wild side. That so far, you’ve had at least three  detentions just this month alone and one of them was all due to some guy on the basketball team with them cornering you and you, putting said guy on his back in front of the entire class. That when all of them were up at the quarry swimming over the summer, you dove off of the second highest cliff and your friend had to swim out and get you because you didn’t stop to think, oh hey, can’t swim, probably shouldn’t do that. Then he goes on to tell Steve about the fact that you’re one of the so-called artsy stoner kids. The ones who always reek of patchouli -according to Tommy, at least, and more often than not are either found in the art class, the shop class or the lawn outside the cafeteria if the weather is nice enough, usually kicking around a soccer ball or tossing a frisbee.

Steve takes it all in. He spots you down the hallway around the same time he hears the laughter and the yelling. You’re running back towards him and now you have a bright yellow handprint on the left side of your face. Valerie is hot on your heels with wet red paint on her raised right hand. 

The teacher swears under his breath when he steps out, putting a halt to your run and Valerie’s run.

“No running!”

“Sorry.” Valerie giggles.

“Oopsie.” you give a little cringe as you say it.

Somehow, Steve can look at the teacher and just tell that the teacher doesn’t believe either one of you as you act all sheepish and apologetic, but you’re giving the old man this little pout and with more grumbling, he steps back into the teachers lounge.

You dart back down the hall in the direction of him and Tommy again, this time, you shove between them. Tommy’s laughing and he calls out to you as you go, “Hey! Guy just said no runnin, woman!”

You turn and fix your gaze on Tommy Hagan. Then you stick your  tongue out. “Yeah? Well since I don’t see him…” you shrug and then you smirk. “You gonna snitch on me, Hagan?” you pout a little and Tommy laughs, shaking his head no. “Nah, you’re good.”

 Your eyes wind up fixed on Steve Harrington but you’re not entirely sure why. 

After all, he is the boyfriend of Nancy Wheeler and you don’t really speak to her unless it’s something pertaining to your little brothers because they  happen to be friends. Beyond that, you really don’t bother. You’re like night and day, the two of you. It’s not that you don’t like her, it’s more or less that she’s not one of your favorite people for a few different reasons.

So it’s not as if you and Steve Harrington run in the same circle. It’s not as if you want to, either. The only reason you’re even a little nice to his friend Tommy is because when you were kids, Tommy used to beat up the boys who picked on you until you cried. Your mom says Tommy Hagan was your first -and only, boyfriend -to date. You beg to differ. In Carol’s case, you were bunkmates several years in a row at summer camp. And while you don’t really like each other, you don’t entirely hate her, either.

But it’s not as if you really talk to Tommy or Carol much at all during school hours. Or if you see them out around town, for that matter. You’re just not that close.

Your hand raises and you tangle your fingers in your hair as you pop a bubble with your gum. Steve grimaces because as your hand lowers from your hair, there’s vibrant purple paint stuck to it. You shrug it off because a little paint in your hair will be a tame day at school in the eyes of your mom, Claudia and your little brother, Dustin.

Steve can’t help but laugh and given the way things have been with him lately, laughter feels good. He’s sizing you up before he even realizes it. And he tries not to, but he thinks back to a few minutes earlier, when you were sort of awkwardly leaned against him, probably trying to just catch your breath after running breakneck speed down the hallway.

Your forehead is just barely level with the center of his chest. And Steve’s always had this thing about the shorter ones. He’s drawn to it, he literally eats it up.

“Hey!” your friend shouting at you from the double doors on the end of the hallway are what finally drag you out of the depths of Steve’s stupid big brown eyes. You bite your lip, give a little wave and you shove your way through the throng of students until you’re gone from his sight.

Tommy lets out a low whistle.

“Damn.” he fans himself.

Steve blinks. “What?”

“Don’t what me, Harrington. You know exactly what just happened. How’d it feel to have your little six second staredown trick turned back on you, hm?” Tommy taunts. Steve rolls his eyes and laughs. “That is not what just happened.”

“Mhm. It is. I timed it, buddy.” Tommy smirks as he says it. Steve grumbles, “Of course you did, asshole. Did she really stare for exactly six seconds, though? It..” he drags his hand through his hair, giving it a good tousle to keep the volume how he likes it, “It felt longer, Hagan, I’ll be honest.”

Tommy laughs and rolls his eyes. “Outta the frying pan and into the fire, huh?”

Steve scoffs. “What the fuck, no. Nope. No way. I am… Done after the thing with Nance. Done.”

“Mhm. Riiiight.” Tommy taunts as the two boys disappear into the gym.

— ( around lunchtime )

The grape landed on the plate in front of him and Steve grumbled, picking it up to thump it back at Carol. Tommy smirks and the next thing he does is to point you out.

It’s not like he had to, Steve saw you when you slipped into the cafeteria with your nose stuck in a book as you attempted to navigate a crowded lunchroom. When Carol happens to catch on to the fact that Steve is slightly… Distracted, she can’t help but gaze in the direction to try and identify the source.

“Seriously?” she rolls her eyes at Steve, “You couldn’t notice her before Nancy Wheeler broke your heart?”

“How do you know her?” Steve asks.

“She went to the same camp as me when we were all in middle school. She was pretty badass.” Carol drags her spoon across her pudding. “She’s been in your homeroom for three years, idiot. It’s not like you don’t know her too…” Carol points out before going silent.

The fact that Carol didn’t immediately rip into you only makes Steve a little more curious. And wary, because Carol is nothing if not a bitch for the most part.

To be fair, she didn’t exactly praise you, either. What she said could easily have been a backhanded compliment.

Across the lunch room, you’re sitting at your usual table in the back of the cafeteria and you’re staring out a window, just bored and counting down the hours until you can finally be done with your typical Monday at Hawkins High.

Valerie clears her throat.

You glance away from the window. “Yeah?”

“Did you hear what happened at Tina’s party on Friday night?”

“Nope.” you start to zone out again because gossip doesn’t really interest you.

“Nancy Wheeler broke up with Steve Harrington… For Jonathan Byers.”

You nearly choke on the cherry you’ve just popped into your mouth. “Wait.. Back up? What now? For who?”

“You heard me. She dumped Steve for Jonathan. I mean, he’s cute, but Steve is a fox.” Valerie gets a dreamy look in her eyes and you can’t help but laugh as you close the battered copy of some horror book you found in the library earlier when you were helping out during homeroom.

“He’s okay. If you like the whole fluffy hair and not a thought in his brain thing.” you shrug. You don’t mean a damn thing you’ve just said, but you’ll pretend you meant every word until your dying day. Steve Harrington probably has all the girls who aren’t falling at Billy’s feet still falling at his. The way you see it, you are not about to contribute to the growth of what’s most likely already a massive ego.

“He changed so much for her. Then she goes and does that. And cheating on him last year on top of it.” Valerie slurps her chocolate milk and you take a sip of your soda from the vending machine. You find yourself glancing over at Steve’s table in the front of the cafeteria. Where nearly all the popular kids tend to sit.

When you happen to catch him looking your way, you quickly turn your attention back to the book and pretend to be reading it. It’s obvious enough that Valerie happens to glance over at the table they’re all sitting at.

“Oh my god.” Valerie’s hand goes to her mouth and her cheeks are burning red. She’s giggling.

“What, V?” you ask, but you know your best friend well enough to know it could be anything and nine out of ten, you’re just not real sure you wanna know.

“It’s Steve… He’s staring over here. Do I have any lipstick on my teeth? C’mon, help me out.” Valerie pleads. “What do I do?”

You shrug and take a bite of your yogurt. “Breathe. He’s a normal fuckin guy, holy shit.”

“Yeah now.. I mean, I suppose with Billy Hargrove coming to Hawkins he’s on his way down from the ranks. But he used to be King Steve.”

You snicker quietly. “Sorry, It’s just absurd. He’s just a normal guy. He’s not some celebrity or anything. I mean, he’s pretty enough to be an underwear model, yeah.. But he’s not. And they aren’t demigods or something. None of them. They just pretend they are.”

“And yet, you’re kind of friends with two of them.” Valerie points out that on occasion, you do talk to Tommy Hagan and his girlfriend Carol.

“Not really though?” you shrug off Valerie’s statement and you dig into your yogurt. When you find yourself looking over yet again and you find Steve just kind of watching you… again… You stick out your tongue at him, hold his gaze for six seconds exactly and then you look down, the whole thing quickly forgotten about in favor of the horror story you’re reading.

As you make your way out of the cafeteria, you wind up walking right into Steve's back because you’re walking and reading still and totally unaware of anything going on around you and Steve was standing there, waiting on Tommy and Carol to get their trays put away. Steve turns and clears his throat, reaching out to lower the book.

“Y’know, that’s not a good habit to have.” he nods to the book. You tilt your head a little, gazing up at him with a little smirk. “Reading? Or reading while walking?”

“Readin when you’re walkin.” Steve coughs when he says it and he shuffles his feet. His eyes settle on your mouth and you lick your lips. Laughing softly as you shrug. “Hasn’t ever hurt me before.”

“It nearly got you knocked down just now though.” Steve is looking at you with concern.

“But it didn’t.” you argue, this little twinkle in your eyes that leads Steve to assume that yes, you’re being a little shit and you’re probably doing it deliberately.

Tommy wasn’t lying earlier when he issued the warning that you were a handful.

Before he can come up with some kind of argument to respond with, you’ve already started to walk away, vanishing through the double doors and into the hallway while he stood there, grumbling about the way you like to walk away like you seem to.

It’s a grumbled rant that Carol happens to overhear and promptly doubles over in laughter. “She does it to everybody. If she’s done with the conversation, she’s done.”

“Kind of like a cat.” Steve blurts out, making Carol laugh even harder. “Yeah. I guess so.”

— after school

The screech of brakes being slammed on from the street that runs past Hawkins High and Hawkins Middle has you and Valerie cringing. You happen to spot the cause of the commotion right around the time that both the drivers are out in the middle of the street arguing. One driver slammed on brakes to avoid hitting a puppy and the other driver, who wasn’t watching the line and flow of traffic, rear ended the other driver. The puppy is limping away, trying to hurry but it’s been injured.

You’re about to shove your backpack at Valerie but she takes it. “Go on. Want me to hang around and wait?” she’s laughing. This is not the first time you’ve rescued an animal. Far from it.

You turn back to give her the thumbs up and in the process, you nearly wind up sideswiped by a lime green Pinto, the driver wasn’t even paying attention to the road in front of him, otherwise, he’d have seen you about to try and cross the street... If not for Steve picking you up by the hips and moving you out of the way, you would’ve gotten hit trying to get to the injured puppy.

“Fuckin prick. The hell did he get his license anyway, a crackerjack box?”  you grumble to yourself as you extract yourself from Steve’s strong grip and stand in the middle of the sidewalk next to the road you’d been about to cross to get to the puppy. You’re holding up your middle finger in the hopes that the driver of the speeding car sees you doing it in his rearview.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Steve doesn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, but it does. You bite your lip and nod towards the park across the street wordlessly. The two cars involved in the little fender bender minutes ago are still there, holding up traffic, the drivers arguing. “When that idiot rear-ended the other one,” you pause and point to the fender-bender and the drivers arguing, “ a puppy got hit or something. I was going to get it.” 

Steve is still trying to get his heart down out of his throat because if Tommy hadn’t seen and tried to shout, he wouldn’t have seen the car speeding towards you like a bat out of hell, the driver not paying a lick of attention to the road in front of him and you, as per usual, not paying any attention to your surroundings like you should.

“You have got to pay attention to your surroundings, holy fuck.” Steve grumbles, rubbing his temples. He gazes at the park across the street and then glances back at you. “Okay, alright. Let’s go find this puppy.”

You raise a brow. “I can handle it.”

“You nearly got run over. I’m comin too.” Steve insists, adding a second or two later, “Look, it’ll make me feel better, alright?”

“Ugh, fiiine.” you blow at hair that’s fallen into your eyes. The two of you start across the road, Steve grabbing hold of your hand halfway across. Your eyes settle on the way his hand covers your hand and you start to say something or pull your hand back but for some reason, you decide not to.

By now, Valerie -as well as Tommy and Carol are hurrying across the street too, curious.

You spot the puppy just as it darts into a cluster of flower bushes and you bolt in the direction, just barely missing a good chance to grab the puppy. You scowl and get down on all fours, trying to push the bushes apart enough that you can at least see where the puppy might have gone.

Steve goes around to the other side and when he sees the fuzzy little pup poke its head out, he reaches in and grabs it. Then he makes his way around to where you’re perched on all fours on the other side of the bushes trying to call the pup to you and he taps your shoulder.

“Be gentle.” he advises as he places the puppy into your arms once you’re on your feet again. As he’s handing you the puppy, his hands linger on your arms. You can’t help but notice it.

“Thank you.” you give him another cute little smile before taking off over to where your best friend is sitting on the rail of the gazebo with Tommy and Carol.

All three of them completely stop talking as you approach with Steve lagging behind you.

Valerie gives Carol this little wink that she tends to give when she’s up to something but you don’t really think about it at the time.

“Aw! Let me see the little guy!” Valerie takes the puppy out of your arms and the two of you sit down on the whitewashed wood plank floor of the gazebo as you check the puppy for any obvious injuries. You find a wound on one of its legs and you cringe as you look closer. “Oh no, poor little guy.”

“We’ll take him over to my mom’s clinic when we drop our brothers off at the arcade.” Valerie says it and you nod. “Yeah, yeah.. Definitely. We wanna make sure he doesn’t have any internal injuries.” you agree.

Steve is leaned against a gazebo post, watching you quietly.

Tommy stops beside him and clears his throat while laughing. “You comin with me and Carol to the diner, man?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.” Steve walks away with Tommy and Carol, back to where he parked his car in the high school parking lot.

— ( the next day )

The bell is just a mere two seconds from ringing and there’s still no sign of you. Just as the bell starts, the door bursts open and you rush in, breathless. Like you’ve run a marathon.

“Nice of you to join us, Ms. Henderson. However, you are late.”

You mimic the teacher while they’re distracted and unwrap the slice of gum, popping it into your mouth. Steve taps the guy sitting behind you on the shoulder.

“Switch seats, Parker?”

The other guy shrugs and as quick and quiet as possible, Steve and Kenneth switch seats. You’re drumming your pen against your notebook and from over your shoulder, Steve can see that the page your notebook is open to is covered in doodles on the margins.

About halfway through the class, you feel a tap to your shoulder. You turn slightly, gaping when you find Steve sitting behind you instead of Kenny Parker.

“How was that uh.. The puppy?” Steve asks quietly.

You smile to yourself and whisper back, “He’s good. I’m picking him up later. Gonna name 'im Wolverine. Wolfie for short...” without looking up. You don’t dare, the teacher is a hardass. If he catches you talking during study hall, he will have something to say about it and you’re already on thin enough ice with the man this week because you were late on Monday and then again today.

You go back to doodling on the sheet of paper in the open notebook in front of you and when you hear Steve snore quietly at one point, you raise your hand to your mouth to giggle quietly. When the bell rings, he’s still sleeping.

“Hey! Hey!” you try to wake him up verbally first. But it doesn’t work.

You reach out and gingerly shake his shoulders and he comes alive. You move out of the way of his flailing arms and laugh with your hand over your mouth. “You snore like a buzzsaw, Steve.”

Steve pouts a little. And he shuffles his feet, quick to hold his notebook down to strain the tent pitched in his jeans because if you happen to look down, he’s screwed because naturally, he started to have himself a dirty dream and pitched a tent, right there in the middle of study hall.

And things are weird. More than a little awkward.

He’s painfully aware of you since you nearly took him and yourself down in the middle of the hallway yesterday morning. It’s driving him crazy and right now, with the breakup with Nance still so fresh in his mind and hurting so bad, it’s the last thing he wants to be going through and yet… It’s happening. Whether he wants it to or not.

You’re staring again, like an idiot.

It’s almost like your brain just goes brr when it comes to him since yesterday morning.

And you’re not sure why you do it because it’s definitely not a good idea, but you step closer to him and you reach up, fixing the collar on his jacket.

“I,uh.. It was bothering me the way it stands up.” you gently pat his shoulder and laugh softly. You intend to step away, put a little space between you both but it kind of feels like your feet are rooted in place. “I uh… Snoring like a buzzsaw isn’t that bad, alright? I mean… It can be kinda cute?”

You instantly begin to pray for a hole in the floor to open up and suck you down. Luckily, your feet finally seem to be working again so nearly the second you’ve blurted out the stupid random thing you just did, you can bolt immediately. And you do. In a hurry. 

— ( after school - a slightly different spin on dustin and steve meeting )

Claudia is in the kitchen putting the last minute touches on pot roast. Dustin is out in the garage tinkering around with a robot he’s been working on for over a month now and you’re up in your room, sprawled across your bed with the puppy you rescued curled up against your side. As you work on homework you put off until the last minute, you’re listening to your favorite rock station, the one at least three towns over. It barely picks up, but you can just faintly hear The Runaways playing their song Cherrybomb. The puppy nuzzles it’s cold wet nose against your side and you giggle, pausing mid-sentence to look down and pet it.

Your mother calls up from the bottom of the stairs. “Sweetie!”

You slip off the bed and gently pick up the puppy. The puppy goes almost everywhere with you when you’re home. You pull open your bedroom door and peer down the stairs. The second you see Steve Harrington leaned in the doorway just chatting your mother up like it’s nothin out of the ordinary, you remember you’re not wearing pants with the oversized off the shoulder sweater and the knee socks.

You almost duck back into your room really quick but ultimately, you decide that Steve’s probably only here to begin with because he saw you listed as a tutor on the bulletin board at school. Because that has to be the only reason, right?

Claudia is definitely charmed by the teen boy standing in her doorway. When Dustin wanders in from the garage in search of a bandage and swearing up a storm about the welder being a piece of shit, he goes quiet mid-sentence upon seeing Steve Harrington hanging out in the front doorway, chatting up his mom like it’s no big deal at all.

“What are you doing here, Harrington?” Dustin questions.

Steve awkwardly drags a hand through fluffy, thick hair. “I,uh… Wait.. You’re her little brother? Hey, kid.”

“Uh-huh.” Dustin answers. Giving Steve a very wary staredown. “I thought you were dating Mike’s sister.”

“Nance broke up with me.” Steve grimaces when he says it.

Dustin remembers the conversation from the day before when he bumped into him on his way home from the arcade. Suddenly, the statement Steve made about girls hurting you and the warning not to fall in love made every bit of sense.

And Dustin could easily tell Steve that he knows at least one girl -you, who doesn’t enjoy hurting people, but at the time, he just hadn’t. He’d kept his mouth shut and nodded along, letting the older boy dispense advice because apparently, Steve Harrington just needed to get stuff off his chest.

“There a reason you’re here, Harrington?” Dustin questions.

Your mother gazes at him and gives him a light smack on the back of his head. “Dustin, don’t be rude.”

“It’s just a question, Ma.”

“It’s rude, Dusty. Go wash your hands. The pot roast should be done in five minutes. Get your sister too, while you’re up there.” 

Since you could feel the awkwardness in the whole little exchange from the top of the stairs,  you take a deep breath and you calmly wander down. Right past Steve and into the kitchen because you just… Need a second or two to pull yourself together because your heart is beating like crazy and you’re still reeling from the two or three really stupid things you said to him during school.

You grab yourself a Tab soda from the fridge and after opening a can of Alpo for the puppy so he can eat, you wander to the doorway of the kitchen and lean against the frame. “Steve, hi.”

“Oh my god, put on pants, what the hell is wrong with you?” Dustin’s overreaction only draws attention to the sweater and knee socks combo but to be fair, when Steve glances down, the sweater actually stops right above your knees and despite it being baggy and for the most part shapeless, it’s the bare legs and the white knee socks that get him.

He has to swallow down a lump in his throat.

All you do is give him that cute little smirking grin. It’s almost as if you’re fully aware of what you’re doing and maybe you’re trying to make things uncomfortable.

Tommy mentioned you kind of enjoyed being an antagonist on occasion. And when Carol gave him a massive infodump courtesy of her own talk with your best friend Valerie earlier, it stood to reason that Tommy wasn’t wrong. And Steve might not be imagining that you were smirking and yes, fully aware of what you were doing.

“So uh… Not that I mind, Harrington but like..” you pause and glance down at the soft pink sleeves of your Def Leppard sweater, fidgeting with the ends and the way they cover your fingers, “Why are you here, hm?”

Dustin glanced from you to Steve. 

Steve shuffles his feet.

Your mother speaks up, laughing softly. “If you’d like to stay for dinner, we’re having pot roast tonight.”

You nearly choke on your tongue.

The puppy wanders right up to Steve and sits down on it’s hind end, staring up at him. Steve chuckles and bends down, carefully picking up the puppy.

“Wolfie, don’t give him kisses, buddy.” you groan when Wolverine’s first instinct is to start covering Steve’s face with dog drool as he licks him. “Sorry, oh my god.” you laugh and you’re reaching for the puppy because the last thing you want to do is have it bother Steve somehow.

Steve chuckles quietly.

“Do you mind if I stick around? I uh..” he drags his hand through his hair. Then it hits him. You did sign up to tutor this year and the coach has been really riding him about his grades.

Nance, she did too… But then she kind of stopped trying because he never wanted to listen or anything when she tried to study with him.

“I wanted to ask if you were tutoring anybody?”

You feel a little more at ease. But also, that sliver of hope you were dumb enough to let grow for the past minute or two, it died.

You were right. It had to be tutoring.

You smile. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’m gonna go up to my room real quick but I’ll be right back down.” you say it and you bolt up the stairs, finding a pair of cut offs to pull on.

It’s not like anything about you is any sort of distraction and you probably don’t need to, but you just feel awkward now, especially when you stopped to think and you realized that Steve Harrington has seen way better looking girls than you and he’s seen them totally naked. So your little power move in trying to make him feel uncomfortable, well.. It probably wasn’t even  noticed.

Dustin peeks into your bedroom. “What the hell is he doing here?”

“You heard the guy, Dustball. He wants tutoring.”

Dustin scoffs. Because he knows from Mike that Steve is not interested in school or academics, not even a little. Study is code for make out. “You really believe that?”

“Well, yeah.. I mean.. Why else would he ask, hm?”

“He wants to make out with you! That’s what Mike said he always did when he studied with Nancy.”

You double over laughing as you point at yourself. “You’re delusional, dustbucket.”

“You’re oblivious, gremlin.” Dustin retorts.

“I think Nancy..” Dustin shuffles his feet. “I know you’re gonna laugh, but I think Nancy really hurt him.”

You raise a brow. You do laugh a little, but then you think about it. Steve’s not the same smug, loud and cocky guy he used to be. He hasn’t been for at least a month now and you’ve heard them fighting in the hall at school before.

You nod. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

Dustin chuckles. “We should probably get down there… Before Mom adopts him and things get really weird.”

You laugh and nod. “Yeah.”

And with any pressure you thought you might have felt before he confirmed he was only here to ask you to tutor him, you put down the red lipstick you’d picked up a few seconds before Dustin wandered in. It’s not like you have to make yourself look good. It’s not like anything will come from just tutoring the guy.

Right?

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x henderson!fem reader #steve harrington x henderson!fem reader imagine #steve harrington x henderson!fem reader fanfiction

[shima-draws]

[[lillie: ash, if you don't march your ass over to gladion and confess your love to him, you'll never see him again

ash, barely halfway through lillie's sentence:]]

JFKAKGKAKGMSMKFKD

Ash: I’m sorry what was that I’m already halfway down the street to kiss the living daylights out of him

#I’M FUCKING CRYING THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER THANK YOU #Ash: I’M GOING I’M HAULING ASS RIGHT NOW #Pokemon #Pokeani #Trustedpartnershipping #Ash Ketchum #Lillie #Gladion #Fake Dating AU #Lillie: Morons. Absolute morons #Lillie has to put up with so much shit in every AU I have her in LMFAO #Stuff for me #Shima speaks #Shima’s AUs #i-cant-thinkof-anything-new #submission

[dilfwaynes]

durante la notte

summary: natasha always deals the cards first, but always ends up being the first to fold them as well.

✎ word count ; 1.5k

⚢ pairings ; natasha romanoff x fem!reader

genre ; smut

✗ warnings ; mean power bottom!reader, undertones of elitism, strap on use, degradation, pwp.

a/n ; natasha x Italian!reader cos i was finishing italian hw while writing this and thinking in Italian LOL not edited !!

translation: fangool / go do it in an ass, / marone / damn it / il mio piccolo tesoro / my little treasure.

you lick your lips slowly, lifting the petite glass and bringing it to your lips, tasting the rich krug flat on your tongue. fingers wrapped around tightly as you watch natasha flaunt around the bar end of the restaurant, collude deep with a full view of her little display with your table only a few feet away. rolling your eyes you pick up the cigarette pack aside from you, fumbling down your drink and lighting it up, blowing out the thick french scent smoke.

“excuse me, could you please put out your cigarette,” your eyes flash towards the man some tables away, eyebrow cocked in annoyance and distrain. you stare blankly, tapping away the burnt ashes off the tip and turning your attention back to natasha.” ma’am.”

“marone! leave the fucking smoking section then!” you snap towards their direction, eyes harden and un amusement fading to anger fast, glaring. “proletariat, fangool!” shifting back to the russian, catching her eyes and bridging the intensity of her green, inhaling once more. sliding the champagne again to your lips, raising an eyebrow over the rim with jealousy burning in with the alcohol. are you finished with your game?

natasha smirked over her slightly hauled shoulder, your expression lamely and stoic but faded underneath is the whole reason she’s continuing on her show. still, she peers at you from the corner of her while fingers shims around the younger girl’s arm, your rings grasping tightly against the glass, the cartier sleek love band, and the golden diamond aside it as well a panthère slimed around your wrist. truthfully you looked good enough to eat with the white silk pressed on your tanned skin, giving you more of a glow with the golden  accessories.

brushing back the stray hair behind the girl’s ear she watched as your mien fallen and a rushed snap of your fingers has the waiter ushering you the bill, eyes set on natasha as you mindless throw money for the check and tip. 

“natasha,” waving a hand behind your back to beckon her to tail from a distance, and like always she obeyed. following you into the car, muttering something in Italian before the chauffeur starts the car. you turn your attention back on her calmly, nodding before reaching a hand and yanking her head to rear in your pleasing.” what a show you’ve put on tonight beloved, but i didn’t care much for your co-star.” you laugh softly, pulling her upper to meet her eyes. your nails running along the back of her neck with your lips attaching to the base of her throat.

“but i don’t think it’ll do well,” you sigh, the mock of sympathetic patent with a now pout in place. natasha’s lips quirk upwards, deciding to play along.” that’s mean to say baby.” her eyes trained on your lips, the red curling into a pleasing smile, the hold within her hair loosens, and a soothing hand pushing her streaks back.  

“don’t worry, you can be the main star of my show,” you say quietly, intertwining your hand with hers and bringing it down to your thigh under your dress, your gaze flickering back towards her.” and mine will be a lot better and successful.” your fist tightening withholding her hair once more and roughly pushing her towards you, slamming your lips against hers with a smothering kiss.

“but i don’t know if you quite deserve it, touching that filthy puttana,” you whisper nearing the shell of her ear, voice edged with a low seething.”i shouldn’t even let you touch me. i bet if i let you, you’ve spread that whore out and fucked her, hm? or would you have done that if i wasn’t there?” your words meant to come out as teasing but natasha heard the undertones, and she knew you knew, that she knew.

“no,” natasha lets out shakily, holding back a groan of the feeling of your teeth nipping at her exposed neck.”don’t want her, just you.” your head falls against her shoulder, smoothing a kiss on the blade.

“just me?” your relaxed features now sneering, your grip a little tighter at the movement of the car stopping. nodding,” just you.”

giving her another kiss before opening the door, an unspoken command for her to follow you into the penthouse. kicking off the satin heels, peering over to the entrance where natasha stands.”c’mere il mio piccolo tesoro,” you coo, tapping a spot for her to join, smiling to ace the act. natasha doesn’t need to see the calm before the storm to understand how this is gonna play out. draping your legs over her lap, catching her face between your fingers,”such a pretty girl,” you murmur, shaking your head.”too bad she’s such a little fucking slut.” you finish, though the tone still mockingly sweet, your smile replaced with a lazy grin now.

without any response from natasha you shift towards her lap, your legs between her waist and gripping her thighs with a bruising kiss, wrapping her legs further around her waist. alining your sex to brush right against her bare thigh, sighing out at the friction, the thin panties the only thing keeping your pussy from her warm skin.”stay put.” you hiss, sealing it with a pinch to her arm, laughing at her little groan of pain.  striding towards the chest tucked into the corner, picking up the silicone and a small bottle of lube. 

“make yourself useful for once and lube that bitch up,” you laugh at your own words and take no mind to natasha, she rolls her eyes stripping herself of her top, watching your little tease show of taking off the silk, and as expected a matching white set underneath. rolling her hips up through the harness, squeezing some of the lube into her palms and running it along the fake length. lifting her gaze and meeting your steps to her, your bra unclasped and somewhere thrown but your panties remain. she cocks her eyebrow downwards, silently asking why they’re still on. you don’t reply, simply pooling them down, and reaching for natasha’s face by her jaw and shoving the expensive lace into her mouth, very well enjoying her wide eyes of curiosity and then surprise.”don’t give me those eyes, i don’t wanna hear you after that shit you pulled with that puttana.”

slowly sinking yourself on the strap, slapping a looming hand of the red head underneath you, taking the cock with a burning stretch leaving you aching, moaning when you feel the tip hilts, natasha drooling at seeing the fake cock poke out some from your stomach. waiting a few moments before lightly grinding on the strap.”see, if you weren’t some stupid bitch i would’ve let you fucked me,” you tell her, grabbing her shoulders for support, rising your hips up and slamming them down again. natasha grits her teeth, itching to touch you, kiss you, feel you literally anything.”please.” she muffled out.

you chuckle at her barely audible beg, her eyes glossy and her voice so whiny, you loved her like this. you decide to throw her a bone and grab one of her hands to give some attention to your tits. speeding up your pace with the added pressure of natasha tugging your nipples between her fingers.”fuck, fuck, fuck play with my clit baby.” you gasp out, your eyelids fluttering with the coil in your stomach ready to snap. podding her thumb against your clit, watching your face falls into pleasure and soon you’re crying out and gushing all over her lap. alcohol always made you extra sensitive.

ripping the makeshift gag of your panties from her mouth, she stares at you for a few seconds.”i’m fucking you at least once tonight.”

“if you can even do that right beloved.”

your words get stuck in your throat as your back drops to the couch, natasha between your legs and pushing the tip inside, arousal pulling at the slick coating the strap. holding your hips still she snaps hers, filling you up. her mouth dry seeing tears peak the corner of your eyes, your legs shake around her already and she hasn’t even moved yet. supporting her body weight with her hand against the side of your head, grabbing the arm of the couch and thrusting up, her grunt going straight to your core. she smirks at the strings of high pitched moans she’s getting out of you, your nails dragging across her back and digging in, your legs beginning to shake uncontrollably with the sound of natasha fucking you, the couch dampening under the pressure of natasha’s hips against yours.”don’t stop, i’m gonna cum you better fucking make me cum.” leaning down and smashing her lips down to yours, reaching a hand to where you both connect and rubbing circles on your clit.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, your grip on natasha unbreakable and your body shaking under her from your second orgasm of the night. giving out a few more trusts to ride out your climbmax, kissing the side of your temple and staying inside you. panting slightly, burying her face inbetween your neck and the Italian leather.

“does this make me forgiven?”

“we’ll see.”

#natasha x reader #marvel smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff headcanon #mcu smut

[dizzydancingdreamer]

“Corn Syrup, Like in Carrie” | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey my lovelies this is my fic for @hellotvshowtrash​ ‘s March Prompt Challenge— I hope you all enjoy and especially you, Ash! I literally wrote this in a few hours so I hope it isn’t terrible; I wanted to make sure I actually submitted this month though because you put a lot of hard work into making fun things for us. I haven’t written for these boys in a while so this was nice :)

Description: Y/n drags Kol into a plan that is more dumb luck than actual planning— is it even a question that he would be willing to help?

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Female!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood and death but in a casual, funny way (sadistic but funny), this might be the grungiest thing I’ve written to date

Word count: 1.99k (it’s literally 1999k, I pushed this as far as possible)

Tags: Fluff, a lil angst if you squint (squint is used loosely here)

Prompt: “This plan of yours is going to get us killed. Of course I’m in.”

Kudos if you get the picture easter egg!

“You want to do what now?”

She huffs but the wicked smile on her face carves through the annoyance— of course she isn’t actually exasperated with him.

“You heard me Kol— I want to scare him!”

The brown eyed vamp rolls his eyes but his own grin is just as cunning. She can see the spark in his eyes, that little glint that lets her know everything she needs to know— lets her know that he’s in.

All in.

“You know that’s impossible darling,” he toys, his smirk too coy for a man over a thousand years old. “Klaus doesn’t get scared.”

She laughs— that’s what he thinks.

Kol’s brows push together, the glint growing alongside his smile, his sharp teeth poking into his lip. “I know that look— that look is never good.”

She meets him where he leans against the countertop, hopping up beside him and wrapping her arms around his cool shoulders. “Oh it’s good alright, Kol-y. I think you’ll like it very much.”

He turns towards her, running his nose across her jaw, peppering a few kisses against her skin before tilting his face up. “Well out with it then, darling— what’s the plan?”

She giggles, pressing her lips against his quickly before pulling back, pecking the vampire’s nose when he scrunches it. She shakes her head at his puppy dog eyes— easily distracted, that one is.

She leans down, whispering her idea into his ear, her chest blossoming with warmth when he shivers against her lips. She can’t tell if it’s because of how close she is or because he likes her plan— both, most likely. When she finishes speaking she nips his ear, tugging gently before releasing him. He groans when his ear meets the cool kitchen air, twisting to push between her legs.

He leans down, pressing his lips against her again. She can taste the mischief on his lips, tangy and sharp— someone has been eating blackberries again.

“You’re a menace darling.”

“Hmm—” she hums her agreement against his berry lips— “I learned from the best.”

He chuckles and this time she shivers, his lips trailing down her neck. “Is that so?”

She pushes against his chest, trying to regain some of his attention. This is important. She slips her fingers into his soft hair, knitting them between the strands and tugging until his baby browns meet her gaze. He sighs, his smile less menacing and more longing than moments ago. He raises his brow, his eyes flitting to her neck before going back to her eyes— are you going to speak or can I go back to what I was doing?

She huffs.

“Are you in or not, Mikaelson?” She grinds out as he tugs against her hand, just barely nipping at her sensitive skin.

He groans when she pulls her throat away from his ministrations, finally standing straight again. His hands slide up the sides of her neck, smoothing against her jaw, fingers hooking behind her ears.

“This plan of yours is going to get us killed, darling.” His soft grin sharpens as he speaks, the glint resurfacing in his eyes. To her it makes him look beautiful. It makes him look dangerous. “Of course I’m in.”

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

“Alright,” Kol announces, his cheerful voice drifting from the entrance to the compound to where she lays in a heap next to the couch. “He’s coming down the street now— I can hear him on the phone. I think he’s talking to Elijah.”

She can’t see the vamp but she knows that the mirth in his voice is much too extensive considering what they are about to do. Oh well. She raises a hand— she can’t speak with the blonde who’s now on their street hearing— signalling for him to get into place—

—and for him to dump the bucket of corn syrup, red dye number five, and just enough of her blood to make it smell real all over her body.

It goes on warm and sticky, scarily similar to actual blood, drenching the t-shirt she has decided to sacrifice. It’s for a good cause, she has to remind herself. Her skin itches where the mixture clings to her and she has to keep from giggling, her shoulders shaking. This had better work.

Kol’s boot nudges against her butt, tsking as she swallows another giggle. “Get with it darling— he’s almost here.”

She nods, splaying her limbs out in a way she imagines a dead— or almost dead— body would look. She doesn’t have to imagine too hard.

“Good job,” Kol whispers. “Billy Loomis would be proud.”

She smiles quickly at the reference— part of her plan was making him watch Scream with her.

“He’s here— let’s do this—“

The end of his sentence is cut off by a yell— his yell. They have to cover the sound of her heartbeat somehow. She can only keep her heart so steady and she’s not trying to give herself away before the fun has really begun. Thank heaven Kol has a good pair of lungs— and that he doesn’t need to breathe.

“Yeah I just go ba— Kol?” Like with Kol, she can’t see Klaus but she can hear him and the way his voice falters in confusion.

“Brother—” the way Kol’s voice hitches at the end of the word makes her almost break character. Someone sign this man up for an Oscar immediately— “I don’t know what happened. I left to get some of that ice cream she’s always talking about and— and—”

Klaus doesn’t speak but over Kol’s scarily astute acting she can hear commotion on the other end of his cellphone. Elijah— jackpot.

A double prank.

“Elijah give me a minute— Kol, what happened?”

Klaus’ heavy boots thunk against the concrete, the vibrations radiating through her cheek where it presses against the ground. His steps are almost as thundering as his voice, both echoing through the open space.

Kol plays along with his brother’s anger, matching it with his own. “I just said I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know! Look at her and tell me what you see—” his words stop, the air punctuated by a loud crack, no doubt the sound of his Iphone shattering into a hundred pieces.

Oops.

Suddenly there are hands on her back, nudging her softly, pulling at the sticky fabric of her t-shirt. You’re going to have to do better than that to wake the dead, babe. His hands get steadily more frantic— and more slimy— dragging the blood concoction into her hair as he checks her scalp and neck for injury. She holds her breath as his hand wraps around her jaw, lifting her face gently.

“Fuck, Kol, why is she bleeding so much?”

Kol only screeches in answer— again, she almost loses it. Klaus must not like that answer very much because he curses under his breath. Well, under his breath is a relative term. She is sure the entirety of Bourbon street hears the F-bomb he drops. The word is accompanied by the sound of her shirt being ripped in two. Here we go.

She feels a whoosh of air against her now revealed skin, steeling against the shiver that creeps up her spine at the cold air. Soon there is another pair of hands on her, sliding down her slick arms. She can picture the dyed corn syrup staining Elijah's dress shirt and the glare in his dark eyes when he realizes she has teamed up with his brother to wreak mayhem.

“What’s going on? What happened?” His sultry voice is worse than the cold air— and much harder to stave off.

“I don’t know—” both Klaus and Kol speak in unison, Klaus taking over for the both of them— “but there isn’t time to find out right now.”

Before she has time to process his words her body is being flipped over, her back pressing into the icy, sticky concrete. It takes all of her strength not to squeal at the contact. She hears a noise much too juicy for her liking before a warm artery is pressed against the seam of her lips. Perfect!

“C’mon love, please—”

When her mouth fills with a thick, metallic substance she breaks, springing forward and coughing wildly, making sure to swallow a good amount before hacking the rest up. She runs an arm across her eyelids, trying to unstick them but only managing to coat her eyelashes even more.

When she finally manages to peel her eyes open, spitting the last of Klaus’ blood out of her mouth, she is met with the faces of two shocked vampires and one vampire who is laughing his ass off. Kol’s laughter is infectious— especially because she’s been holding back giggles since the start of their ruse— and soon she is joining him, laughing so hard she falls backwards again into the goo.

For a moment there is silence— only the sound of her and Kol’s laughter— before it gives way to Klaus’ deathly calm voice. “What the hell is going on here?”

She pushes herself up on an elbow, flashing him a scarlet drenched smile— she would give anything to see her crimson teeth right now. She runs her tongue over them to enhance the point.

“Did I scare you?”

His eyes flash with black. “Did you scare me—”

“Yes, you scared us!” Elijah’s red hands wrap around her forearms, hauling her into his chest without a care for his white shirt. “May I ask why?”

Elijah’s chest shudders, his arms curling around her waist. He wasn’t lying— he’s terrified. He smells like cooking oil and metal but she doesn’t care— he’s too warm for her to mind. His lips press against her forehead and she almost feels bad.

Almost.

A hand wraps around her hair from behind, yanking her back from his brother’s chest. “What Elijah means to say is can we demand why? Why you would try something like that?”

She dips her head further back, squinting up at the furious blonde. “Oh you already know why, love.”

He rolls his eyes, his jaw clenched but leaning down to brush his cheek against hers regardless. “Indulge me anyway.”

She tilts her head, skimming her tacky lips against his stubble. “To make a point.”

“Oh yeah? And what point might that be?”

“That I am fragile—” she pulls upright, turning in Elijah’s arms and dropping the cheshire grin— “that you can’t protect me all the time—” she pushes forward, crawling onto Klaus’ drenched lap— “that I need to be like you.”

He sighs, his forehead dropping against hers, his hands curling around her jaw. “This again?”

Her arms hook around his neck, fingers tangling in his blonde hair. “You know I’m right.”

Klaus’ shoulders slump, his golden eyebrows knitting together. “Does it have to be right now?”

“Your blood is already in my system.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

She smiles back at him, leaning in for what she hopes is one last human kiss. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”

He only sighs, shaking his head as Kol laces his fingers with hers. She turns to the brown eyed vamp just in time to see him pass her a mischievous wink.

It is the last thing she sees before the world around her goes dark.

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

She wakes feeling significantly less sticky than she had when she blacked out— and significantly more hungry. She can’t remember the last time her throat was dry like this. Is she catching a cold? She shifts slightly, her elbow piling into a pillow underneath her. The pillow grunts.

Not a pillow.

Kol rises beside her, pressing a hand to her chest until she falls back against the mattress and then rolling on top of her, sinking his face against her neck. The words he mumbles into her skin make her dead heart stop in the best way.

“I told you that plan would get you killed.”

#March2021PromptChallenge #the mikaelson boys #the mikaelson brothers #the mikaelson boys x reader #the mikaelson brothers x reader #the mikaelsons x reader #Kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x y/n #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x y/n #the originals #the originals imagine #to imagine #to #elijah mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson imagine

[bratkook]

girls in bikinis. (m) kth.

pairing: taehyung x reader genre: smut, pwp word count: 5.3k warnings: exhibitionism, unprotected sex, partially clothed sex, fingering, spanking, dirty talk, creampie, he fucks her in roller skates okay and its light and playful author’s note: this came to me as i washed my dishes and listened to this song by poppy and idk what possessed me to write this when i have 2471819 other wips i should be focusing on but i hope u enjoy it lmaooo

As the sun beats down on Taehyung, beads of sweat trickling down his neck while he cruises on his long board along the concrete path right on the beach, he doesn’t think he regrets encouraging your new hobby more than he does right now

You see when you first voiced your desire to learn to roller skate Taehyung had found it endearing, even going as far as purchasing the skates for you as a surprise because you had been so excited watching videos online of other girls gliding around.

When you finally got them and slipped them on, stumbling around like a baby deer discovering they had legs, he thought it would be an adorable hobby. Seeing you bundled up with your knee pads, matching elbow pads ready to catch your fall and a helmet strapped tightly under your chin.

It all screamed cute.

But your determination had set it, constantly practicing out on the sidewalk or in the shoddy parking lot of your apartment complex, not caring how many times you bruised your tailbone with your nasty falls until they slowly minimized.

Soon enough Taehyung had stopped providing you ice packs and comforting words when you took a tumble and instead he had begun to watch in awe as your strides got more confident, no longer afraid to apply pressure onto your toe stops when you caught some speed, mixing in some cool spins as you skated around him in circles.

With that added confidence came the fact that you no longer needed to be wrapped up in safety gear as extensively as you used to be which is what landed him in this situation, watching you glide along beside him with the skimpiest outfit on.

This no longer screamed cute, no this entire thing was currently shouting sexy in his head so loud it was a surprise no one around him could hear it.

Taehyung swallows down a groan when you push out so you’re ahead of him now, the scrape of your wheels mixing in with his own. His eyes trail up your body, seeing how your legs glimmer in the sun thanks to the body oil you had lathered on before you, making your entire body look like its glowing.

The expanse of your legs are out for the world to see and he’s almost positive if you bent over just slightly he’d catch a peak of the underwear you currently had on because these black cut off shorts were purely for aesthetic purposes.

Its not until you whirl around on your skates, gliding backwards with your arms and head bobbing along to the music you had blasting from your phone in your back pocket, that his eyes zero in on your tits. Taehyung can’t hold the groan back this time, not with the way he sees them bounce and jiggle with each stride of your legs, only being caged in by the tiniest triangle bikini top you had so graciously slipped on.

He knew you did this on purpose, did this just for him, color coordinating your orange top to match the suede of your skates and passing it off as a cute notion. Taehyung had gotten drunk a few nights ago, and with the added alcohol came the slip of his tongue, confessing how hot he thought you looked as you rolled around and how much hotter you’d look if you did it in just your underwear.

You, being ever the people pleaser, weren’t going to let him down. Of course you weren’t clad in your bra and panties but this was definitely second best and when you catch his dazed out expression it proves you right.

His foot mindlessly keeps pushing himself forward, coming back onto his board robotically to continue the glide while you shimmy your chest at him tauntingly.

“My eyes are up here.” You quip teasingly, your hand coming up to rake through your hair as you shoot him a dazzling smile. Thats when he finally blinks out of his daze, meeting your eyes with a cheeky smile on his own face.

“Oh I know,” he shrugs, rocking on his board as he glides side to side, his wheels kissing the edge of the path each way as he does so, “prefer staring at your tits though.”

A snort leaves you at his comment, swirling back around to face forward, slowing your pace down until you’re once again right beside him. You turn your head to look at him, smirking when you see him staring at you already, “Figured, that’s kind of why I wore this.”

“Ah,” he sighs out, his hand reaching forward to grab your own in a sweet notion as he matches your speed, “so I fell into your trap?”

The soft laugh you let out makes the horniness that's clouding his brain clear up, paired with the fact that he can no longer see the way your boobs bounce with every crack on the floor, he has a moment to cleanse his impure thoughts. 

“Yeah, it’s all going according to plan.”

Taehyung laughs fully at that now, his eyes crinkling up as he smiles, his ash blonde hair being fluffed up from the wind and the speed at which he pushes off the floor, “Oh yeah?”

A small hum is your only response, mimicking his movements and pushing forward once more to make room for bikers approaching you, once again giving him the glorious view of your ass and legs. 

“And how does this plan of yours end exactly?”

You spin around once more, the action smooth and nothing at all compared to the way you struggled months ago, your hand still grasping his own as he helps guide you from any oncoming people. There's a glint in your eye that he can’t pinpoint but he knows its trouble, it usually always is with you. 

“With you fucking me.”

His brows arch up at your lewd comment, how you said it so nonchalantly, almost as if you were discussing a grocery list. His balance falters slightly as he wobbles on his feet, your hand being the saving grace that stops him from face planting onto the hot cement. That would definitely sober his filthy thoughts up just as quickly as they came, nothing like good road burn to help him stop sinning.

“Well let's go then.” He chokes out, ready to drag you to his awaiting car, maybe you’d let him defile you in his backseat if you were this horny but you shock him once more when your shoulders shrug. A playful frown on your face as you look behind you, your eyes focusing on the surrounding buildings, “Why?”

“What do you mean why, you said you want me to fuck you or am I reading this all wrong?”

Another laugh bubbles out of you, the sound sweet and angelic as if you aren’t currently thinking of him rearranging your guts in the unholiest of places 

“Oh no, I definitely want you to fuck me but why leave?”

That’s when the realization hits him, his eyes widening up as his mouth drops open when he understands just what you’re suggesting, “Here?”

A simple nod is sent his way, your smile widening when he looks around in exasperation, almost as if he can’t fathom that you’d let him do whatever he wanted to you in any location. “But we’re in public!” He hisses out, his cheeks warming up to a blush and its adorable. 

“So, I’m horny and I want you to fuck me. Are you game?”

As adventurous as Taehyung was, he'd never, ever, fooled around in public and as much as he wanted to, the fear of getting caught and possibly being thrown into jail always stopped him. But the way you look right now is making all of his logical thinking go straight into the gutter and he can’t find it in himself to care, not when he can see this whole thing play out in his mind.

With every blink of his eyes he sees flashes of you, pressed against the side of a building as you moan out his name, the feel of your oiled up skin against his fingertips as he grips into your hips and fucks you from behind, the thrill of having to keep quiet.

He feels his cock spur to life in his shorts and that is absolutely the only convincing he needs to make his feet come down with a thump, haphazardly hopping off of his board and yanking you to an abrupt stop, his hands having to catch you before you topple over from the force of it all. 

“Hell yeah I’m game, but if we get caught it’s all your fault.”

He wastes no time scooping his board up and tucking it underneath his arm as he takes off, dragging you behind him while he hauls you off the bike path and onto the crowded boardwalk. His grip on you is secure as your wheels wobble on the uneven path, his pace speeding up when your laughter reaches his ear. 

A smirk spreads onto his face as his eyes bounce along each building, determined to find a location good enough for your rendezvous. The small whispers you send him make him feel like you’re a little devil perched onto his shoulder, luring him into making the worst decisions with the best outcomes.

“You gotta be quiet Y/N.” Taehyung whispers with a laugh, his hands placed on your ass, pushing you into the small alleyway between two buildings you had both deemed good enough for the scandalous act you were about to perform.

You have to bite your lip to prevent teasing words from slipping through, your heart was currently pounding in your chest as reality hits you, not believing just how easy it was to convince Taehyung do to anything involving sex.

It’s almost comical how he rolls you deeper into the small hiding spot, his board slipping from its spot under his arm and landing on the floor in a loud thunk. The sound echoes all around you but he can’t focus on that right now, completely ignoring the scowl you send his way after he had just shushed you into silence.

“You gotta be quiet–” You mock him, the end of your words being muffled out when he slaps his palm over your mouth, a taunting look on his face as he pushes you against the brick wall. The heels of your boots thud against the building as your back presses flush against it, the gritty texture of the wall digs into your back but any complaints you have get stuck in your throat when you see the look in his face, your breath huffing against his hand, the tiniest smile creeping onto your lips.

“Don’t worry about me baby,” he whispers out, his face inching closer to yours. His eyes sneak a side glance towards the opening of the alley way, seeing the occasional person walking past blissfully unaware that the two of you were tucked away in here, “unless you want people to see how desperate you are for my cock you need to keep that pretty mouth of yours closed okay?”

A stiff nod and a hum against his palm is all you give him, your eyes staring straight into his as he takes a moment to ogle you. His gaze trails down your neck, onto the swells of your chest covered in the tiny orange bikini, his head tilting slightly as he watches the rise and fall as you try to steady your breathing. 

“Nervous?” Taehyung teases, choosing now to remove his palm from your mouth.

“No,” you breathe out a laugh, resting onto your left toe stop as you sag against the wall, “I’m excited.”

Of course you were, this had been your plan after all. Get Taehyung so hot and bothered he’d do anything you asked and he had fallen right into your grasp, not that he had any complaints.

“You fucking minx.” He jokes, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss, the smell of the sunscreen he had slathered his face in invades your senses, it reminds you of summer and you know after today it’ll also remind you of this moment.

Your lips drop open as he licks his way into your mouth, groaning when his tongue slithers against yours. Your arms hook around his neck, tugging him closer as he lightly licks the roof of your mouth before pulling back with a hum.

“Gotta be quick yeah?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, letting his hands grip your sides, his thumb softly rubbing your waist on his way down to the button of your shorts, “hurry.”

The bouncing wheels of skateboarders whizzing by a few feet away has you gasping in excitement, Taehyung shooting you a wink when he catches the thrilling look on your face at the prospect of getting caught, “You got it.”

Taehyung pops the button of your shorts open, the sound reaching your ears, aiding in the small rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. The metallic scrape of your zipper being yanked down joins the air, his long fingers dipping into the waist of them and tugging them down your legs until they catch around your knees from the way your thighs are spread out.

He eyes the tiny pastel orange panties you chose to wear, your entire outfit being carefully thought out for this exact moment and it makes him chuckle under his breath, he really had fallen right into your trap. 

His fingers toy with your underwear, following the edge of it as it curves into your inner thighs, a shiver wracking through your body at the ticklish feeling, a slight detour being taken when his thumb presses into the damp patch decorating the front of it.

A wiggle of your eyebrows is sent his way when he eyes you teasingly, “Who would’ve thought you’d get this wet just thinking about me fucking you out in the open.”

“Please, I get soaked just thinking about you doing literally anything.”

He knew that much to be true, taking pride in being the main reason your panties were ruined.

Its not until the sound of people talking reaches his ears that he remembers he needs to hurry up, the idea of being caught was definitely hot but actually getting caught wasn’t so he once again grips your hips and turns you around.

Your heavy wheels clank against the ground at the change of position, your hands gripping the rough wall to keep you steady as he moves you, the rolling of your wheels only making him laugh.

“Uh, you’re gonna have to lean on your thingy to stop from rolling.”

“My toe stop?” You tease, putting pressure on your right foot to help stabilize you as he places a palm on your back, his fingers tracing the ties of your bikini top as he pushes you forward.

“Yes you smart ass.”

With you no longer rolling back onto him he deems himself ready to continue, his palms roaming over the smooth expanse of your exposed ass. You had clearly covered your entire body in that damn oil, not leaving a single area bare of the jasmine scented liquid which Taehyung had now decided was his new favorite thing.

“Hurry up and fuck me.” You whine out, your hips jutting further back, not at all expecting the swift slap he lands on your left cheek. His large palm swats against your skin so hard it bounces off the walls, the gasp getting stuck in your throat when everything falls into silence once more, half expecting someone to peek their head in from how loud it had been but it luckily never comes. He soothes your warm skin with his palm, kneading your flesh gently as he bit his lip.

“Gotta make sure you’re ready for me baby.” He scolds, his thumb hooking around your underwear and yanking it to the side, revealing your dripping slit to him. His other hand comes forward to let his fingers trail up your folds in a teasing motion, softly tracing up and around, not being able to resist teasing you further. When his index finger glides through your slick with ease his mouth drops open in awe, forever being prideful at the effect he has on you.

The small whine spills out of your lips when he slowly dips his finger in, enjoying the way your walls pulse around the tip of it before he pushes in to the hilt, starting a slow rhythm as he pulls out and thrusts back in, quickly adding a second finger and scissoring them inside of you to properly stretch you out for his cock.

“Mm Taehyung,” you sigh out, your head falling forward to rest against the cool wall as he continues to fuck you open. Each thrust of his long fingers has you keening, more of your arousal gushing out of you in excitement, becoming more and more desperate as he continues, “fuck I’m ready please.”

He playfully hums in thought from behind you, not entirely convinced two fingers would be enough for you to adjust to him. “I don’t think you are Y/N.”

The way your pussy clamps around his third finger when you feel the tip of a prod at your entrance proves his assumption correct, but he could take care of that. He knew you body well enough, having the motions down to a science. The way he curls his fingers, alternating between spreading them out and nudging against the sweet patch inside of you, it doesn’t take long until you’re fully relaxed in his hands, your hips rocking back into him at the feeling of being so full.

“There you go sweetheart,” he coos, his eyes slipping shut for a moment as he focuses on the wet thumping every time his palm hits your ass when he thrusts into you. The softest moans fill the otherwise silent alley, your fingers desperately clutching the wall, no doubt scraping your skin but that was a problem for later on, right now all you could think about was how amazing Taehyung’s fingers felt inside your cunt.

“Fuck, nngh please Tae.” You plead, twisting your body slightly to crane your head over your shoulder, hoping the clear desperation etched onto your features was enough to have him whip his cock out and fuck you like you wanted.

Your wide eyes glimmer with unshed tears from frustration and he takes pity on you, slipping his shiny fingers out of your pussy and popping them into his mouth like second nature. As if you needed him to do more to turn you on he has to go and lick your arousal off of his digits like it was his favorite candy.

“Okay,” he murmurs out, undoing his own shorts and yanking them down just enough for his cock to spring free. The visual of it out in the open almost makes those tears pool over, his large hand wrapping around the girth of it as he lazily pumps his aching length inches away from you, “you ready?” He questions, bringing his palm to his mouth to noisily spit into it, using it to lube up his cock as he steps closer to you.

“Yes.” You breathe out, rolling your lips together as you face the wall again, your head hanging low as you wait, your pussy clenching in anticipation.

Taehyung steps in between your legs, keeping them nice and spread apart, yanking your underwear to the side to reveal your sodden folds to him once more. He licks his lips over as he guides the head of his cock towards your entrance, the slight pressure of it pressing against you has you sighing out, gritting your teeth together to keep from shouting at him to hurry up.

Finally, he eases his way inside, his bulbous head breaching your entrance, the stretch that accompanies it beating the feel of his three fingers from before. This was what you wanted, his thick cock stretching you apart and filling you up the way he knew best.

Taehyung holds in a groan when your walls tighten around him when he bottoms out, his hips fully flushed against yours, the two of you panting as he stills inside of you.

“You okay?” He whispers, his fingers moving to grip your hips once more to help ground himself as he waits for a response from you. The sound of more people approaching has your walls pulsing around him and he groans, “Fuck, of course you’re okay. You fucking love this huh?”

A small whimper of his name is all you let out, the idea of being caught in the act making the words stick to your throat, instead you push back onto him, urging him to move.

Taehyung takes the hint, a smile gracing his face as he slowly inches back, beginning to rock into you in a steady rhythm, his pace increasing every time you let a tiny moan slip out from between your grit teeth, a small reward for being vocal because he wants you to let anyone listening know it was him making you feel good.

“Answer me baby.”

The squelching sounds of his dick hammering into you fill the air, the lewd moans finally leaving you with no qualms about who could possibly hear, “Fuck, yes I love it.”

He hums in appreciation, his hips fucking into you with more force at your admission, new determination settling inside of him to get you to fall apart, not an ounce of shame remains at getting caught.

Taehyunt can’t lie, he knows he loves it too, loves the way you’re letting him claim you in public, the way your moans echo in the space you’re in, your hand gripping the wall. A squeal leaves your lips, mixed in with a breathless laugh, when he angles his hips just right.

“Such a good girl,” he grunts out, gripping your hips tighter when you squeeze him, “letting me fuck you like this. Want everyone to see that you’re mine huh?”

One of his hands curls around your front, trailing up your body until he reaches your skimpy top. He yanks the fabric of your bikini to the side, his palm squeezing a handful of your tits as he continues to thrust into you, the coolness of his palm contrasting with the warmth of your chest.

“Just yours, only yours.” You slur out, your brain turning into putty when his dick curves just right. The way his hand squeezes and tugs at your exposed nipple has your mind spinning, your body being jostled by his thrusts and in turn making the foot that remains flat on the floor roll back and forth from the force.

“Ah, baby,” he laughs as his fingers pinch your pebbled nipple, hearing a small hum in response from you, “you’re rolling again.”

Taehyung slows his thrusts, rocking in to you more calmly as you grunt in frustration, neither of you took into account how inconvenient fucking in roller skates would be.

“My calves are cramping from holding my feet like this.” You admit with a laugh, feeling Taehyung lean his head forward until it rested in the juncture of your neck, his soft breaths hitting your skin as he chuckled.

“Okay, here bring them down flat.” He guides you, holding you steady as you even out the weight on your skates, a tiny yelp escaping you when you begin to roll down on the uneven alley floor. Taehyung repositions his feet to rest right behind the skates to keep you from sliding further, an experimental thrust of his hips being sent your way to test the hold, “Better?”

When you no longer roll back, just bump forward slightly, you sigh in relief, “Yeah, so much better. C’mon keep fucking me.” You plead, your palm coming down to wrap around the hand currently groping your tits, urging him on and he listens.

“Whatever you want baby.” He mumbles against your skin, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder as he pulls his hips back, rearing forward in a brutal pace that has you nearly shouting out. Your body hunches forward more freely now, no longer afraid of rolling away, instead your hand slides down the rough wall as you moan out his name.

His eyes catch on to the way you’re soaking his cock, leaving it slick and shiny with your arousal each time he pulls out. Taehyung feels like his mind is swimming, the whines of his name and the way you rut your hips back on him is the only anchor keeping him in the present.

He releases your nipple, trailing the hand down your front until it dips past your underwear and reaches your clit. Your reaction is instant, a loud gasp filling the air as your walls clamp down at the stimulation when he begins to rub tight circles on your sensitive nub.

“Oh god Taehyung,” you cry out, placing both hands on the wall and throwing your head back in pleasure, “you always fuck me so good.”

He grunts at your confession, the slight ego boost inflating his chest, the tiny licks of pleasure curling in his gut as he feels his release approaching, “Mm yeah? You’re creaming my cock baby, you enjoying yourself?”

Taehyung marvels at the way your back arches further, focusing on the way your ass bounces with every thrust of his hips and he can’t help himself when he delivers another harsh smack onto one of your cheeks, watching as the skin ripples and smarts at the slap.

“Ah,” you mewl, the sting of his palm sending tingles of pleasure up your spine. Your velvety walls pulse around him, always one to enjoy a little pain with your pleasure, “yes! F-fuck, I’m close Tae.”

He can tell, the way you’re sucking him in further every time he pulls out, desperate to keep him buried to the hilt, “You gonna cum like this? Gonna let everyone hear what a filthy girl you are?”

The taunting tone of his voice has your stomach tightening, the small coil of pleasure winding up inside of you with every roll of his hips, every deliberate flick of his finger against your clit. Your head turns to the side, having a clear view of the opening of the alley way, seeing the occasional person walking by. You never thought you’d enjoy the thrill of this as much as you did but the oncoming release you feel is evidence enough that you were thoroughly enjoying yourself.

“C’mon baby, let everyone hear you.” He groans out, a smile gracing his face when he hears the way you instantly do as he says, lewd moans of his name bouncing off the wall as you edge closer to your release. “Good girl.”

Your walls spasm around his cock at the praise, a few more flicks of his finger paired with his length expertly hitting your g spot every time is all it takes for your orgasm to crash over you. Your head falls forward, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan as your mind momentarily blanks, every nerve in your body lighting up as you come undone.

“Oh fuck–“ your moan dies in your throat when your body tenses up, small shocks coursing through you as he continues to roll your clit, enjoying the small twitches your body gives him.

Taehyung gasps when your walls tighten even further around him, his hand retreating from your clit to firmly grasp your hips to continue fucking you through it, seeking his own release now, grunt of pleasure escaping his open mouth and reaching your ears.

“Shit,” the rhythmic pulsing of your pussy is what sends him over, his thrusts getting sloppier until hes surging forward, his cock twitching as he pumps his hot cum inside of you, filling you up to the brim with a sigh of your name.

Your forehead rests against the cold wall as you try to catch your breath, the pounding of your heart can be felt in your ears as you come down. The breathy moans of Taehyung get closer as he tucks his chin over your shoulder, still buried deep inside of you.

“That was...so fucking hot.” He confesses, a wide smile spreading across his face when he feels your body vibrate with laughter.Carefully, he slides out of you, the both of you groaning at the loss of contact.

When Taehyung pulls away and slips his softening length back into his shorts, his eyes stay glued to the way his cum coats your folds, slowly dripping out of you. That was totally unacceptable so he gathers some of it onto his fingers and stuffs it back inside you before he readjusts your underwear to fully cover you, sliding your shorts back up your legs and helping you spin back around, readjusting your top with a grin.

“My legs feel like jello.” You admit when your balance falters, Taehyung having to grip your hips tighter to keep you from toppling over onto the gross floor.

“What can I say, my dicks just that good.”

He dodges the smack he knows is coming, a deep laughing filling the air as he ducks away from you, laughing louder when your horrible aim makes you wobble around.

“Tae!” You whine, an adorable pout on your face when he only laughs some more. Your arms cross over your chest as you stare at him with a slight scowl, “Help me.”

The smile on his face softens as he looks down at you, his hands trailing along your arms to unfold them and gently clasp his fingers around yours. “Of course I’ll help you baby.”

That satisfies you, standing up straighter now that he had a hold of you, “You think we can make it to the car without either of us face planting it?”

His eyes narrow in thought, the odds really weren’t in either of your favor but an idea pops into his mind, the curl of his lips indicating just how evil he was but you miss it, too focused on not catching your wheel on a pebble. Your legs were once again reminiscent of bambi and as much as he acted like he was unaffected, blowing his load in you had made his own legs feel boneless too.

“I mean, if we fall at least we fall together?”

Right, that seemed to be the best outcome but it was fine by you and way better than the two of you staying in this dingy alley way for much longer.

He leads you out of the alley, bending forward to pick up his discarded board before exiting the hiding spot and reentering the real world. It feels like you hadn’t seen the sunlight in ages, your eyesight spotting for a second before you adjusted to the brightness of your surroundings.

Taehyung uses that to his advantage, placing his board back on the floor as he stares at you, not yet noticing that he had let your hand go because the sun was absolutely blinding.

“I’ll race you to the car.” He shouts out, not giving you a moment to respond or argue about it before he hops onto his board and takes off, his foot pushing off the floor in a haste to win.

Your mouth drops open when you see him bolt, your brows furrowing tightly on your forehead, in disbelief that he had abandoned you after claiming he’d help you, “Asshole!” You shout after him, missing the way he smiles when the words reach his ears. With that comes the scraping of your own wheels as you take off after him, a small grimace on your face when you feel the way your ruined underwear sticks to your skin.

Soon enough you’re speeding right past him, your hair flowing behind you and the muscles on your legs flexing from the force of your pushes. Taehyung lets out another loud laugh, a change of position from earlier, this time you had fallen into his trap and everything was going according to plan. With you now a few feet ahead of him Taehyung can freely ogle at your body without a care in the world.

Checkmate.

#btsghostie #btswritingcafe #bts smut #taehyung smut #tae smut #taehyung fluff #bts imagine #bts writing #kim taehyung

[tlcwrites]

By A Nose

Submission for Writer Wednesday 5/12

Summary: If you're going to talk the talk, you better be able to walk the walk. Or, proof Poe Dameron is a terrible loser.

Word Count: 1528

Tags/Warnings: Poe Dameron x Reader, Modern AU. Implied smut but mostly in passing. Some bad words. Poorly edited because as usual I finished this at like 11 and my kids get up at 5 so I need to go to sleep.

Author’s Note: THREE FICS IN A WEEK WHO AM I?

Okay, so I cannot be the only one who saw the photo for this week's Writer Wednesday (thank you once more for hosting, @autumnleaves1991-blog!) and went the direction I did. If I am the only one, well, just further proof my brain is certifiable. Make sure you comment on when you figure out where this fic takes place.

There will also be an accompanying headcanon coming for this probably tomorrow, because there was SO much material I wanted to use but couldn't make fit. Thank you @paper-n-ashes for brainstorming with me and being the best hype-woman ever.

“AAAAHHHHH.”

“WE’RE GONNA DIE.”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!”

“FINN!!” You smack him. “There are small children here!”

But he’s too busy screaming to pay attention.

On the other side of you, Kaydel looks decidedly green. She lets out a pained moan as your vehicle makes a particularly hard turn. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this…”

You pat her knee as you fly through a kitchy town. “Hang in there, honey. It’s almost over.”

The village elder’s well wishes still ringing in your ears, you pull up next to another idling transport. From the driver’s seat, your boyfriend winks at you.

“You’re going down, Dameron!” you holler at him.

He makes the universal ‘I’m watching you’ gesture. “Eat my dust, losers!”

Finn yells back something that has you smacking him again, shooting an apologetic glance to the second row of Poe’s transport, where Snap and Karé are sitting with their daughter Nora. Snap’s hands fly to cover Nora’s ears while Karé laughs heartily.

Next to Poe, Rey holds her thumb and forefinger up to her forehead in an ‘L’ shape. “Second place is the first to lose!”

Before any more trash talking can occur, you see a flash of red out of the corner of your eye and then both vehicles take off, bursting out of the dark into blinding sunlight.

You both fly over the rusty terrain, neck and neck as you navigate under rocky overpasses and around hairpin turns. From the second row of your car, you can hear Maz lobbing profanities at Chewie in the other ride. He’s yelling back in his native tongue (which you still only understand half of). Beside Maz, Leia and Han are both laughing like kids.

A shriek of joy erupts from you as you fly over a series of hills, the momentary weightlessness thrilling. Finn has both hands in the air, while Kaydel grips the safety handle with white knuckles.

Finally, you come out of a turn to see a sharp drop. You look to Poe, who grins back at you, his vehicle slightly ahead of yours. Damnit, you HATE losing to him. He’s the worst winner.

At the last moment, your ride leaps ahead, crossing under the checkered banner by a nose. The passengers of your car cheer and high-five in victory, while Poe’s passengers groan in good-natured defeat.

As you roll through the red-lit cavern, you laugh as you catch sight of Poe’s face. He’s a terrible winner, but he’s an even worse loser. Even if his loss comes at the hands of an algorithm.

Anthropomorphic cars wave you off as both vehicles enter the unloading zone. On the other side of the platform, Chewie is lifting Rey out of the front seat as she pretends to collapse in agonized failure, her laughter completely destroying the illusion. You accept Finn’s hand as he helps you up, both of you turning to support Kaydel as she crawls out of the car.

A ride attendant watches her warily. “Does she need assistance?” he asks Han.

Han waves him off, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulders as Maz and Chewie beeline for the ride photos. “She’ll be fine. No protein spills here.” At the cast member’s astonished look, the charming rogue gives his trademark grin. “Ain’t my first rodeo, kid.” As he and Leia stroll past you towards the exit, he catches your eye and winks. “That, and they haven’t changed the lingo since the 70’s.”

Laughing, you rub Kaydel’s back as Rey swaps places with Finn and helps bracket your green-tinged friend. “Let’s get you some water, yeah?”

Kaydel manages a slight nod, and the three of you make your way towards the exit.

Behind you, you can hear Poe and Finn bickering, as they’re wont to do.

“It’s a ride, dude,” Finn is saying, the exasperation clear in his tone.

“It’s physics, dude,” Poe shoots back. “There’s NO way the car on the outside of the turn would be able to finish first.”

Worst. Loser. Ever.

Your rag-tag alliance eventually makes it out of the exit tunnel. Ben’s waiting across the walkway, those ridiculously long arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the guard rail and steadily ignores whatever Armitage is ranting about.

On the bench next to them, Rose perks up, a smirk crossing her pretty face as she sees Poe’s expression. “Well, I don’t need to ask who won.”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” the most-competitive-pilot-in-the-galaxy grumbles back, adjusting his backpack. You help Kaydel to a bench, where she quickly curls up.

Rey rolls her eyes as she forces her way into the circle of Ben’s arms. “It’s not like any of us could have actually controlled the outcome, you noodle.”

“Not without some kind of magic,” Ben intones dryly, resting his chin on his girlfriend’s head.

“How cool would that be, though?” Rey’s getting her Down-The-Wormhole-We-Go eyes. You and Rose exchange a Look™️ as she starts gesturing wildly with her hands. “Like, imagine if you could just look at something like rocks and, like, make them fly. Or make someone do whatever you wanted them to do. OH!” She looks up at Ben with a slightly manic expression. “Lightning bolts from your fingers!!”

Well-used to these kinds of rambles, Ben gently captures her hands and wraps her into a hug that doubles as a straight jacket. “No more SyFy channel before bed.”

Rose slides her arms around her husband as Finn joins her on the bench. “Did you behave?”

Nora, in all her 6-year-old innocence, giggles. “Mr Finn said a whole lot of swear-jar words.” She casts a critical eye on the young man. “You probably said enough you could buy an Elsa doll.” The ‘for me’ is unsaid, but implied.

Karé rapidly turns her laugh into a cough.

Finn glances down at his wife as Rose smacks him upside the head. “Hey! That tractor thing is terrifying. And Maz said WAY more than I did!”

“Age before beauty, Finnigan,” Maz says haughtily, waving off Finn’s ‘m'name’s not Finnigan, damn it’.

Giggling, you tune out the ridiculousness that is your found family and turn your attention to your still-sulking boy toy. “You know,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his waist, “you make that face for long enough and it’ll stick that way.”

He huffs. “This is just how my face looks.”

“Uh huh.” Considering yourself quite the expert in his face, having spent countless hours studying every crease and line until you could have drawn him blindfolded, you call bullshit, but say nothing further.

“It is,” he insists.

“Okay,” you agree.

The King of Sarcasm narrows his eyes. “You’re doing that thing.”

You widen your eyes innocently. “What thing?”

“That thing where it sounds like you’re agreeing with me but you’re really telling me I’m a dumbass.”

“What?!” You bring your hand to your chest. “Moi?! I would never.”

He huffs again, but you can see the hint of a smirk starting to break though.

“C’mon, First Runner Up,” you tease. “No sulking in Disneyland. Let me buy you a drink at Trader Sam’s, and then we can sneak off to the Haunted Mansion and make out like teenagers in our Doom Buggy.”

He tilts his head, considering it.

“Or-“ You brush an inky curl off his forehead and stand on your toes until your lips are just about caressing his ear and whisper, “-we could get back in line right now and go again.”

Even before you’ve finished speaking, Poe’s grabbing your hand and hauling you back towards the entrance, tossing a “See you jerks later!” as he pulls you under the Radiator Springs Racers sign. Their laughter echos behind you as he leads the way through the mostly empty line (thank goodness for parade lulls).

As you wait in the queue, only a few dozen people stand between Poe and his (re)shot at victory. You see that competitive gleam in his eyes start to come alive again.

“Hey.” You tug on his tee shirt until he looks at you. “If our car doesn’t win, tonight I’ll do That Thing you love.”

“Babe.” The look he gives you is one of pure torture. “You are killing me here.” He really loves to win. But he really, really loves That Thing. “What about when we come in first?”

You shrug demurely. “Then you wear Those Pants™️ tomorrow.”

Hm. Poe’s always been quick to calculate his odds, and this is quickly turning into a win/win situation. If you lose, he gets That Thing. But Those Pants™️ turn you about feral, and when you’re in that kind of mood- let’s just say Poe still has the scars on his shoulders to prove it.

“Are those terms acceptable, Flight Commander Dameron?” You smile sweetly up at him.

His licentious grin says it all. “Hell yeah.”

For the record, your car does lose a second time. And the next morning, Poe hardly has Those Pants over his ass when you’re ripping them back down his legs and shoving him backwards onto the bed.

Oh, yeah, he thinks to himself. This is better than any dumb kid’s ride.

…doesn’t mean he’s not going to ride it as many times as it takes to win.

A/N: I almost titled this “Tell me you have children without saying you have children”. I am so fucking sick of ‘Lining McQueen’. Yay 4-year-olds.

Thank you for reading; likes and reblogs feed my soul.

#writer wednesday #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x gender neutral reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron #hot space droid dad #my writing #modern au #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #poe dameron fanfic

[flowerflamestars]

Let's ask the hard questions here, baby. What do you think the series would have been like had it been Nesta Archeron under the mountain?

BABE this is it-this is the best question I’ve ever been asked. 

For one thing, chaotic. For another: I think the simple substitution reframes the whole structure of the narrative. It’s not about a journey to power that fights Evil Tyranny (abused Human to Hero to High Lady).

It’s a story about the people working around, beside, under the powerful Lords- and the difficult choices they make. Less Hero’s Journey more, Look, These Are the Real Heroes.

Let’s start with Spring. We know now that the whole you killed a faery now you have to come to faeryland thing was an insanely shitty ruse. So maybe Andras is still alive. Maybe Feyre killed him and Nesta successfully protected her sisters. Maybe Tamlin is just a twat and went that one is pretty. ANYWAY-

Nesta gets to Spring. Lucien doesn’t immediately despise her, for, you know, murdering and skinning his only friend (a handy sublimation of the anger he can’t express against his High Lord). Nesta was raised in the fucking gentry and Nesta can play the game- it’s a question of willingness.

Feyre is a lot more willing to roll with weird circumstances for caution.  Nesta is, to her bones, an aggressor. Empty manor doesn’t add up? She’s going to say something so cutting, and so infuriating to Tamtam she ends up seeing all the faeries. She steels herself, refuses to be afraid of Alis, and asks questions. (See, Nesta’s first IC dinner, zeroing in on the scariest faery and refusing to flinch)

At some point, there’s a confrontation. 

But it’s not between Nesta and Tamlin. Now, in canon Tamtams is extremely willing to drag his feet on the curse. In this version, that is so much worse- sure, he’s into Nesta (Nesta, recall, just looks like sharper Feyre), but Nesta takes one look at this fragile immortal man child and roasts the shit out of him. What’s he going to do? Kill her? Negates all the stupid trouble he went to. Punish her? He clearly needs her for something.

Tamlin cannot handle that. There are no Romantic Moments. Nes spends calanmai watching faeries do weird shit out her window. She sure as fuck doesn’t drink faery wine and dance for Tamlin at the solstice. It is not happening.

 So Nesta spends a lot of time alone, wandering around. Talking to Lucien, Alis, random-ass faeries out of sheer reckless ego, reading every book in the ugly manor.

Nesta confronts Lucien. I’m going to go with after the wingless dead faerie and the head in the garden. The stupid blight conversation.

This works differently and better than Feyre’s attempts to get more information for I think, two important reasons. 1) Lucien and Nesta speak the same language in acotar. It’s all anger babes- sharp edged, sexy, bullshit. There’s no cycle of forgiveness then softening- they are the same, too the same, tired and self-hating survivalists bored out of their minds in a gilded death trap. 

and 2) Nesta and Feyre are quintessentially perceived differently. Feyre is hopeful- tenacious, young, free. She shakes up things for these old ass faeries and gives them something to believe in. It’s youth for the eternally young. 

Nesta...is not that. She gets under your skin, forever. Multiple faeries meet her throughout the books and have very extreme reactions to that- but what matters at this point, as a mortal- Nesta reads as an adult. She’s immune to glamour. Her strength isn’t kindness or an open heart, it’s fucking steel that might take your last breathe.

And look, Lucien would respond to that. Tamlin...isn’t even talking to the girl his people died to get him. The curse is almost over and they’re all going to get tortured. Nesta, has, from day one, known something is wrong- she’s so angry, and it makes it easier for Lucien to be angry.

It’s not hunting bros who become Real Friends, it’s fire and gasoline. Empowerment.

So, I haven’t read acotar in ages- but I’m pretty sure they literally couldn’t tell her about Tamlin’s curse. But Lucien can communicate around the magical fuckery- there’s a great evil. The kids in Winter are all dead because of another High Lord. 

And look, Nesta cares about dead kids. She even, begrudgingly, cares about Lucien. She does not give a single flying fuck about the High Lords.

But Lucien, in this world, is the first one to say it: Hybern. 

Amarantha is Hybern’s general, and Hybern wants all of Prythian. All of it. 

Nesta is absolutely going to walk into the fire to keep the humans- and by extent, her sisters- safe from faeries. 

Tamlin- because he does not love Nesta- doesn’t send her away. Doesn’t crush any savage hope Lucien harbored, doesn’t do shit. He gives up.

And so Spring is dragged beneath the Mountain.

Nesta has exactly two advantages on her side: she can see through glamour, so she’s not 100% disoriented and vulnerable (just..you know, terrified), and sheer force of will.

Amarantha likes will. She likes to break it, and there are so few real contenders left after her victory. 

Nesta doesn’t bargain- Nesta doesn’t beg for Tamlin’s life and love- she asks to win her own. 

Amarantha wants to crush her like a bug. Insignificant little human- but wouldn’t it be more fun to watch each little crack form?

So she gets the riddle. Tamlin’s power is thrown in like the boring chekovs gun that it is. Lucien (probably) gets beat up because Lucien always gets beat up under the Mountain. 

Nesta has two choices: she can answer the (stupidly cliched, easy) riddle right there, and try to walk out. (Nesta knows she’s not making it out alive). Or she can wait, and play the game. (She’ll be damned if she doesn’t take that insane bitch and maybe Tamlin down with her. Her only ally is Lucien and he’s being hauled off with a bleeding headwound soo..)

Nesta lets herself be dragged away. She doesn’t fight. 

Let us remember again, that the Archeron sisters are built like a triptych. A presumable almost mother maiden crone. They look alike, especially Nesta and Feyre. If Rhysie boy thinks Feyre is hot at first glance, guess what he also thinks about Nesta?

So, yes, of course he goes to offer a deal. And let’s be clear on something- when Feyre hated Rhysands guts, what did he like about her? That she was beautiful, absolutely didn’t give a fuck, and what’s that? Fought with him.

She lets him heal her, but then- Nesta won’t even talk to him. Nothing he does works. They come to agreement (which Rhysand finds fascinating, a human with loyalty, that human heart) that Nesta will listen to Rhysand’s offer if and when, he delivers to her a whole, safe, Lucien Vanserra.

Rhys frames this as emotional torture. Incentive. He doesn’t need to play evil as well- Nesta hates fucking faeries. And she knows he killed a bunch of children. 

So Lucien gets thrown in the cell. Minimally healed. About to embark on the misery train, self-deprecating laughter at the fact he’s healed, now, because of Nesta. 

Lucien: so nice of you to make sure we’re all pretty before we die, Archeron. Final night spent huddling for warmth together?

Nesta: Shut up. Shut up- tell me why the fuck Rhysand would be trying to make a deal with me.

They come to the conclusion that, while Rhysand is a monster, he also has no control of his own. He’s completely under Amarantha’s thumb, and apparently, wants out.

Nesta, because she always goes for the jugular, has another thought: Are you really going to go back to Spring after this? He gave up. He gave up and you were rotting in a cell.

Lucien, to whom Nesta is both gasoline and mean friend catnip, but who is also a Sad Boi: where else can I go?

So they make a plan. Rhysand thinks Nesta is the key to killing Amarantha? Cool, Amarantha needs to die. Tamlin is the only High Lord who has access to his power more readily? Tamlin needs to do the killing. 

What does Nesta want? There to be no Hybern coming to burn the land where her sisters live. To go back, to go home- but Nesta doesn’t think, even for a second, she’s really going to make it out alive. And if she does, as she thinks late at night, of Feyre’s laugh, or Elain’s quiet humor- how will it ever be safe? They live on the Wall.

Nesta is known to faeries now- Nesta is infamous, and there’s nothing to stop anyone, should her presence lead them back to her home.

Nesta privately decides Tamlin should die too.

So when the time comes, and Rhysand is like, I’ll protect you, you’ll be mine and you’ll be healed- Nesta says no. Nesta, because she really has never learned to back down- looks dead in the eye of the High Lord of Night, the monster who sleeps beside Amarantha and says: safe passage.

She’ll do what Rhys wants, for this: Lucien Vanserra’s safe passage to a safe place, and for Rhysand to promise not to get in her way when she answers the riddle.

Rhys still wants her to come to the Night Court- for whatever nebulous reasons he wanted Feyre to...which only make sense AFTER she’s changed by the High Lords...which Rhysie couldn’t have known, BUT ANYWAY- Nesta says yes. She doesn’t expect she’ll be alive to pay.

Lucien sulks back to Tamlin’s side, and spends a few weeks between challenges laying it on thick. A quiet whisper that grows, a perfect stroke to Tamlin’s volatile ego. How dare Amarantha, how dare Nesta- Tamlin is a Lord, Tamlin is Spring- Tamlin, who has suffered so much more than the other Lords, deserves his power back. 

Nesta is dragged out for the final challenge.

In one of the long, dangerous hallways, her guards look the other way for just a moment- for a visitor. The High Lady of Autumn knows her son is safe because of this girl. 

She hands Nesta a knife. A small gift- all she can. Steel, not ash, small enough it will go unnoticed.

Nesta is dragged before the throne, before the High Lords, Tamlin and Amarantha, Rhysand.

Nesta answers the riddle.

And when Amarantha refuses to abide the rules- Tamlin, carefully manipulated without coordinating by both Rhys and Lucien, goes apeshit.

This does not stop Amarantha from hurting Nesta. The opposite- she’s trapped in the fight between them. When Amarantha does give Tamlin over the power, it doesn’t stop- unloved by even a human, and now she’d take any chance he’d had to win her as he really was.

Nesta doesn’t stab Amarantha. Nesta lays there, bleeding to death, biding her time.

Tamlin murders Amarantha. Rhysand doesn’t beg, but he’s there, getting growled at by Lucien as he tried to staunch Nesta’s wounds.

Amarantha dies, and Tamlin, glowing with power, makes his way to Nesta. They think he’s going to heal her- to try, but Tamlin is Tamlin, so he pulls her into his arms.

Nesta, who knows she’s going to die- Nesta, who was taken from her home, her family, deprived of her life by the choices of this man- Nesta lets Tamlin embrace her, the arrogant, stupid bastard, and stabs him in the throat.

It is the golden, desperate words of Lucien Vanserra that convince the High Lords to heal her. It is Rhysand who tries first, who gives the most. After all- Tamlin had been too selfish to try, and they’d all suffered for it. Faery justice: swift and bloody.

Nesta had died victorious. Nesta died with a bloody autumn court dagger in one hand and the grip of her only real friend in the other- but death was chaos. Skies and stars and howling wind, love and blood and war.

A thousand miles away, Cassian awoke screaming, clawing at his own chest.

She climbed through blood and battle, dreams and hope, floated to an infinite sky: and found herself alive.

Breathing, whole, an immortal monster. On her way to the Court of Night with Lucien by her side. 

[exploradora-writes]

Fireside Love: An Arthur x Charlotte Fic (18+ Only)

Warnings: NSFW, wholesome smut 

Summary:  During a snowstorm, Arthur and Charlotte decide to use their time cooped up in their cabin wisely.

Word Count: 3,455

Notes: Thank you @the-halo-of-my-memory​  and @unpocowboys​ for helping me out with this fic. The both of you are very talented writers! I plan on writing more Charlotte and Arthur fics in the future. These two are one of my favorite comfort couples, so I wanted to make a spicy yet cozy fic about them. Warning: Tons of wholesome smut ahead...

This fic can also be found on my AO3 under exploradora_writes

The first frost flakes began to stick to the window, the kitchen gradually becoming colder as snowflakes began to fall from the pitch black sky outside. 

Charlotte sighed, tossing another log into the stove, her stew stubbornly refusing to boil. She glanced at the woodpile, the three tiny logs lying there in an almost mocking sort of way. 

The clouds blocked out much of the sunlight, but she knew it would be dark soon. She held onto the counter, trying her hardest not to think of the worst, but she couldn’t help it.

He could be lost, stranded with no direction, no food, no warmth.

She shook her head, coming to her senses. Arthur may view himself as nothing but muscle and absolutely no brain, but as his wife, she knew better. He had an excellent sense of direction and survival skills. Any minute he’d be through that door with a load of firewood, and maybe even an animal or two.

She asked if she could come. Two heads were better than one, she tried to reason.

“No, darlin’, as much as I’d love to go with you, I need you stayin’ home and watchin’ over the house, keepin’ it warm. Wouldn’t want any strangers takin’ residence while we’re gone, would we?”

More than one weary traveller, some more hostile than others, had taken up residence in their home on more than one occasion while the two of them were off on hunting trips. While she understood where Arthur was coming from, she couldn’t escape her fear of the worst. She’d already lost one of the men she loved dearly to the harsh conditions of nature, she couldn’t bear to lose another one.

Her motionless broth seemed to stare back up at her as it refused to boil. “You ain’t making this easy for me, broth.”

Talking to an inanimate substance? The snow really was making her stir crazy. Arthur had better hurry up before I start talking to the logs, she thought. 

Figuring the broth was nowhere near boiling over, she took those three pathetic logs sitting on the woodpile and tossed them in the fireplace. She looked around for a match, lit it with a satisfying strike, and tossed it on the pile. The flames licked up the logs, but Charlotte knew it couldn’t last long. She lay back on a chair in the kitchen, staring into the flames of the fire. She smiled, her eyes following the flames as they danced along the logs, remembering all those years ago when her and Arthur danced around the campfire on their little outdoor honeymoon getaway. They drank and sang and made love their fair share of times by the roaring flames of the fire. Sure, it was no fancy trip in the big city, but it was simple and memorable. 

Unfortunately, the fire before her sounded more of a purr as opposed to a roar. She let out another sigh, looking back at the empty woodpile, longing for her strong handsome woodsman to return.  

As if on cue, she heard the door handle jiggle, as the man she had been longing to see emerged from the snowy darkness outside. 

“Arthur!” She arose, practically pouncing on him. He moved his scarf away from his cherry red face, panting from the effort of carrying.. firewood. Loads of it. Charlotte sighed with relief at the sight, wrapping her arms around him. She didn’t care that he was like an icicle, nor that she would get wet from the snow that dusted his wooly blue coat. Her hands met his face, cold despite the large beard he sported. Her lips met his, her warm pink lips melting his icy blue ones. 

“Charlotte,” he breathed. “Glad I made it in time. Bundle up and help me haul in some of this wood. I have a feelin’ this is only the beginin’ of this snow storm.” 

She threw on a sweater, a coat, and a pair of boots. She opened the door to the dark depths of the winter night. The bitter cold nipped at her entire body despite being bundled up head to toe. She tried to imagine how good the fire would feel against her and her lover’s bodies once they were in the warmth of their little home. 

Arthur had made quite the haul. Firewood, some supplies from the general store, and even a deer. She smiled, feeling her body warm up as she thought of how wonderful and lucky she was to have a man like him. 

They fought against the wind back into the house. It took the strength of the two of them to even get the door closed. They both panted and fell against each other. 

“Well, we best get cozy, darlin.’ We’re gonna be here awhile.” Arthur said, removing his snow covered clothes. 

Charlotte returned to the kitchen, the pot of broth finally showing signs that it was preparing to boil. She threw another log on the stove for good measure. 

Arthur came up behind her and kissed her cheek, his cold lips sending a shiver down her spine. “How’s everything comin’ along?”

She smiled as the both began to boil. “Rather nicely now that you’ve returned, cowboy.”

“Hmmm I figured I’d have the opposite effect. My coldness would ruin any hopes of ever makin’ a good meal.”

“Quite the contrary, Mr. Morgan.” She stirred in the ingredients: savory chicken, carrots, onions, and peas. “Because I think you’re so hot, you make pots boil. You made mine boil when you walked through that door.” She looked back at him, stirring the pot in lazy circles. “Cheeks still rosy from the cold?”

“Er, yeah,” he fumbled, “you could say that.” 

She rubbed his face, running her fingers through his beard. “You hungry?”

His hands ran along her hips. “Starvin’..” 

“We could eat in front of the fire if you’d like. It’d be a nice change, don’t you think?” 

“Sure, sounds cozy.” He gave her hips one last squeeze before getting two bowls from the above cabinets. “Smells delicious.’”

“You talking about the soup or are you talking about me, dear?” She gave him a small smile. 

“Can’t I be talking about both?” Like a magnetic attraction, his hands were back on her hips.

“Goodness you’re handsy tonight!” She giggled. “Alright, soup’s on.”

He gave her cheek a quick peck before serving himself a large bowl of soup. She unwrapped some bread she had been saving for tonight and placed it in each of their bowls. They brought their meals over to the fireplace, sitting in front of it. 

Arthur took a sip, his body quickly warming up from the combination of the fire and the broth. He let out a satisfied groan. “This soup’s real good, sweetheart.”

“Well I’m glad you think so,” she beamed. “I always worry I’ll muck something up.”

“That’d be pretty hard for you to do, Char.” He smiled at her, motioning for her to sit closer to him. She obliged, cosying up to him and resting her head on his shoulder.

The sounds of the crackling fire and the slurping of soup filled the room. Arthur tipped his bowl back, finishing the rest of the broth. He let out a satisfied sigh and took Charlotte’s bowl as well, putting them next to the sink to be washed. He’ll clean up eventually, he thought. Right now all he wanted to do was warm up his wonderful wife.

  He changed into his union suit, catching a glimpse outside the window. The snow came down with a vengeance. He grabbed a log from the pile and tossed it into the dying flames. The fire continued to dwindle. 

“Goddamm it,” he muttered, bending over to grab the poker and stir the ashes around. He felt the familiar sensation of a hand giving his behind a light smack. He turned around, his wife looking around, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. 

He arched an eyebrow. “Was that really necessary, darlin’?”

“Was what necessary?” She tried looking away, but try as she might, her lips continued to curl into a smile.

“You know damn well what I’m talkin’ about, missy. Your hand just loves smackin’ my ass, don’t it?” 

“That is quite the accusation, Mr. Morgan!”

“I oughtta smack YOU on the ass.”

She smirked, tilting her head. “Well? What’s stopping you?”

He studied her for a second, then knelt down next to her. “Goddamn, have you always been this naughty?”

“Always have, always will be. It’s one of the reasons you married me, remember?” She lay back on the carpet. “Now get me a blanket, would you, darling? It’s freezing in here.”

He sighed, tossing her a few blankets. He tossed another log on the fire, then lay next to her. He wrapped his arms around her as she shivered against him. He scooted the two of them closer to the fire. “There, now that’s better.”

She nuzzled against his chest and yawned. “Arthur?”

“Hmm?” He looked down at her.

“How long do you think we’ll be in here? Waiting out this storm?”

He looked outside again, the snow showing no signs of stopping. “Awhile. Don’t know how long exactly, but we’ve survived much worse. ‘Sides, I stocked up on food and supplies, we’ll be fine.

She sighed, looking up at him and kissing his cheek. “Well, we’ve got plenty of time, what should we do to pass it?”

He chuckled. “Well, there’s always dominoes, and redecoratin’, and we can always be workin’ on our marriage.”

“Oh? And how exactly do you want to work on that?” She held his hand, circling his palm with her thumb.

“Well, when’s the last time we’ve had to ourselves like this? Seems like we’re always busy with housework, farmwork, all kinds of work. This is a good opportunity for us to just… be in each other’s presence.”

She hummed against his chest. “Sounds wonderful.”

The flames of the fire crackled, and Charlotte let out a small, breathy laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Arthur asked.

“Oh just remembering our little honeymoon.”

Arthur smiled as the memories came flooding back. “That little camping trip.”

“Yes! Remember, out on the lake?”

“How could I forget? We tipped the whole damn canoe over!” He laughed, rocking back and forth and waving his arms around dramatically, reenacting the fateful moment. 

The two of them collapsed on the floor in a heap of giggles, cuddling up to each other to trap the warmth again as their laughter died down. Charlotte looked into the flames of the fire, a small smile on her face. “And the campfire,” she mused. “Illuminated the entire night sky. Millions of tiny stars, looking down at us.”

Arthur chuckled. “Yeah, I remember.Them crickets were noisy sons of bitches, weren’t they?”

“I think they thought the same thing about us, dear.” She ran her hands along his chest, gazing into his blue eyes that perfectly complimented his rosy cheeks. 

“Darlin’, you were the one makin’ all the noise,” he said in a low tone.

She sighed, resting her head against his chest. “You’re right, you always were a good lover.”

He rubbed her back, gazing into the flames as well. “You know, we could alway reenact that night. If you’re up to it that is.”

She smirked, smooching his cheek. “I thought you’d never ask,” she whispered in his ear, giving it a small nip. He let a gasp escape his lips.

“Jesus, darlin’.” His lips met hers as he gracefully flipped her onto her back. “I was on top, remember?” He pinned her wrists to the soft, welcoming rug beneath them. It was her turn to let out a gasp. A bead of sweat dripped down her brow, the weight of her husband’s warm body causing blood to rush throughout her entire being. 

She kissed his neck and moaned. “Are you sure I wasn’t the one on top?” She wrapped her legs around his torso and twisted her body around and caught him off guard. Arthur grunted, his wife now the one staring down at him. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle. Who knew such a typically mild mannered woman could have the drive and spunk of a working girl? He felt himself growing stiff beneath her. 

“No, darlin’, you’ve got it all wrong, remember? You were on top when we was by the lake, after we went skinny dippin’. I remember ‘cause the rocks were diggin’ into my back, but hell, it was worth is just to watch myself disappear inside of you over and over again.”

Warmth flooded her core as she began to grind against his leg. “Well, which was it, Arthur? Make up your mind before...before I..” She buried her face in the crook of his neck and moaned.

“Look at you…” he chuckled. “You gonna cum before I’m even inside you?” 

She shook her head. 

“Thought not. Goddamn, you must be soaked.” He held her against him and kissed her lips. He lay her back down against the soft texture of the rug, his hands exploring her body, as they had on that fateful night. “Now it’s all comin’ back to me. You were lyin’ there, the light of the fire dancin’ across your nude body…” His hands played with the straps of her nightgown before sliding them off, revealing her bare bosom. “Your breasts, milky white…” He planted kisses on them, his calloused fingers running across her pink buds. 

She bit her lip to stifle a moan. “Yeah? Then what?”

He slid the nightgown further down her body. “Your stomach, soft and delicate” His voice had grown low and a bit hoarse. 

Charlotte rubbed her thighs together, her breath shallow as she anticipated his next move.

Finally, he slid the nightgown completely off of her body, the cold air hitting her skin. She shivered, not from the air, but from the sensation of Arthur’s bearded face rubbing against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He kissed all the way up her thigh until he reached her core. He placed his fingers against it, and while a layer of cloth separated his touch from her body, she still left out a soft moan.

“Yes...yes…” he growled. “I’m rememberin’ now. How you tasted…” He looked up at her as he slid her panties down her legs. “Darlin’, it’s takin’ everythin’ in me not to devour you right now.”

“W-what’s stopping you?” 

That comment again. God, she was a relentless tease. 

He stared at her as he gave her pussy a long, teasingly slow lick. She let out a soft whimper at the sensation of his warm tongue against her intimacy. Her juices continued to flow, and he was right there to lap them up with his eager mouth.

Her taste was familiar to his tongue, sweet as summer honeysuckles. His beard rubbed the skin of her inner thighs, and she arched her back as his tongue continued to explore the familiar territory of her folds. His cock throbbed against the tight fabric of his union suit. He longed to be inside her, to hold her against him as their heartbeats began to sync. 

He growled, fumbling with the buttons of his suit and he moved his head back and forth. He ran his hand along his entire length, finally letting it free from its previous confines. 

His wife couldn’t help but glance down and moan at the sight of her husband pleasuring himself while he pleasured her. She bucked against his face, feeling herself reaching her peak.

His calloused thumb made lazy circles around her clit while his other thumb circled the head of his cock. 

Charlotte bit her lip and whimpered, squirming against her husband’s face. 

“That’s it, darlin’,” he growled, “cum for me. You can do it, I know you’re close. Fuck…” His cock leaked with precum. 

She arched her back and moaned out his name, and while no one could feasibly hear them in the middle of the woods, right at that moment it felt like the entire world knew that Arthur Morgan was filling her with ecstasy as she reached her climax. 

She panted, her body coated with a thin layer of sweat. “Oh...Oh, Arthur..”

He panted heavily as well, sliding beside her and kissing her, his face and beard still lingering with the taste and scent of her. 

“Mmm that’s a good girl…” he whispered in her ear. 

Her hands squeezed his glistening biceps, then trailed down to his chest and stomach. She played with his chest hair, a sly smirk on her face. “My big man loves to eat, hmm?” she teased, kissing his neck and nipping his earlobe. 

“You’re damn right I do.” He let out a grunt, his cock twitching. 

Charlotte kissed him and shimmied the rest of his suit down his body. 

“Now we’ve just gotta stay close together so we don’t freeze to death,” she said, her hand gripping his length and stroking it. She kissed his lips, muffling the groan that escaped his mouth. 

“Mmm I want us both facin’ the fire,” he whispered. “No more fightin’ to be on top.” 

“Yes sir.” She obeyed, laying on her side facing the fire. 

He slid her body against his, turning her face so he could kiss her. He lifted her leg, reaching a hand around to rub her pussy, still soaked from their previous interaction. 

He slid inside of her with ease, both of them gasping practically the same breath. His cock inside of her was a familiar feeling that seemed to bring her more pleasure with each thrust. 

His large hand clasped her smaller one, the both of them unable to take their eyes off of the other one. The fire continued to roar, and while the outside raged with icy wrathfulness, the inside of their little cabin was a hearth of comfort and pleasure. 

“Darlin’, I…” he growled, twitching inside of her.

A familiar, floaty feeling began to rise in her stomach, and she let out a soft moan. 

He brought their clasped hands down to her sensitive bundle of nerves. With his hand over hers, he guided her and pleased her, as an artist guides his brush across a canvas, and as an artist creates a passion filled work of art, so too were they.

She squirmed against him, barely able to contain herself as she moaned out broken pieces of his name. 

“That’s it, goddamn that’s it…” he growled in her ear. “Cum with me, be a good girl and cum with me..” 

The fire crackled and sparked and so did she, moaning as she came undone once more. 

Arthur pulled out and groaned, spilling his seed on her stomach. 

The two of them collapsed in a heap of sweat, the both of them panting and staring up at the ceiling, holding hands. 

Finally, Arthur mustered up the strength to get up and retrieve a wet cloth to clean up his wife. He smirked as he cleaned her. “You were so good tonight.”

“So were you, dear.” She kissed him. “You always know exactly what I need.”

The fire began to fizzle out. Charlotte sighed and arose, retrieving a log from the pile and tossing it into the fireplace. The light of the flames illuminated every curve of her nude form. Arthur’s heart beat a bit faster at the sight.

He wished to God he could capture her in that same pose. He’d be sure to sketch a replica of it, hell, maybe have her model for him just so he had an excuse to see her naked again. Either way, the sight of her looking like a work of art made his heart soar. She definitely beat all the dirty cigarette cards he and the old gang members used to trade. 

“Something on your mind, Arthur?” 

He blinked a few times before chuckling. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ about you and how lovely you look.”

She smiled and lay down beside him, kissing his forehead. “You’ve still got it, darling.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“I’m not kidding. You were wonderful tonight. It was almost identical to our honeymoon.”

He furrowed his brow and turned his head to look at her. “Almost?”

“Well, we weren’t under the stars!”

He looked out the window, the snow still coming down fast. “Darlin’, you’d better be thankin’ the lord we weren’t doin’ it outside. We’d be freezin’ our asses off in all that snow.”

She giggled, nuzzling against him and kissing his chest. “Well we may not have been making love under the stars, but you certainly made me see stars tonight, Mr. Morgan.”

He chuckled, pulling her against him and kissing her one more time before drifting off to sleep. 

#arthur x charlotte #arthur morgan x charlotte balfour #charlotte balfour #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2

[rhetoricalrogue]

Jogging the Memory

Fiction Type: Fanfiction Fandom: Dragon Age Prompt: "I need you."

Diving into @fictober-event by putting a spin on some old reliable characters and putting them into the AU @alittlestarling and I have been throwing ideas back and forth to the other for forever.

“I need you to –”

Ravena met Blackwall’s earnest plea with an arched eyebrow. “To keep quiet that I know you from a few years ago?” She tilted her head. “Under a different name than the one you’re using now?”

“You don’t understand, it’s…” he sighed. “That old name is dead now, as is the past that went with it.”

She shrugged and went back to packing her bag. Before he had knocked on the door of the cottage she was sharing with her cousins, Ravena had been preparing to go out into the field and accompany the Herald into the Hinterlands to hopefully acquire horses for the Inquisition. Personal curiosity in the astrariums littering the landscape Roz had mentioned had been the main reason she had requested the to join the outgoing party, but she sincerely hoped that unlocking their secrets would lead to something that would benefit the Inquisition, fledgling organization as it was.

Oh Henri, she thought wistfully, a pang of grief sharp at her chest. If only you were here to see this with me.

“Some pasts we can’t run from, Rainier,” she told him, not looking up as she carefully put a well-worn notebook in with her belongings. She may not have her mentor here with her any longer, but she could still find comfort in the knowledge that his personal effects had been safely stowed away in the inn that he had been staying at before heading to the Conclave. She may never find a body to mourn amid the ashes of the temple she and her dear cousin had once helped restore, but at least she had his familiar book of notes to keep his memory alive. “Especially pasts like yours.”

“My name is Blackwall,” he hissed, tone suddenly sharp, dangerous. Ravena started when his hand shot out and gripped her wrist, her mind flashing to the dagger she kept inside her right boot. It was a gift from her other cousin Rolfe, one that had come with countless lessons on self-defense and how to properly use it. The crushing pressure of the fingers that ground around the slim bones of her wrist was a dangerously silent reminder that those very same fingers could easily wrap around her throat and made her sincerely think that she might have use for all those lessons Rolfe had taken pains to teach her. “And it would benefit us both if you would remember to use it.”

Not breaking eye contact, Ravena wrenched her wrist out of his grasp, eyes narrowing and mouth twisting into a frown. “Is that a threat?”

“That is entirely up to you, my lady.”

Weighing pros and cons had always been one of her stronger suits. It had been years since she had last seen Thom Rainier and the man she had encountered in the woods defending people from bandits was different than the man she had spent a night of passion with while in Orlais supporting her findings from a dig she and Henri had just gotten back from. At the time, she had thought Thom Rainier a handsome, if not arrogant man and the fact that he had thought she was similarly attractive and was willing to partake in a bit of mindless fun that didn’t have any strings attached. They’d spent a mutually pleasant evening together and he was gone before she woke up the next morning. To his credit, he hadn’t robbed her any of her belongings while she had been asleep.

It may be her ego talking, but she would have liked to have made enough of an impression on him that he would have actually remembered her name the next time he saw her. The only thing that soothed that initial sting was the fact that he had recognized her, even if he didn’t remember exactly where he knew her face from.

She licked her suddenly dry lips. The man defending the defenseless and teaching them to fight back was also worlds different than the rumors of murder and betrayal that had circulated after his seemingly mysterious disappearance from Orlais. “Mutually beneficial relationships seem to be a thing for us,” she said, tone careful. Almost instantly, the line of his shoulders relaxed and the flinty edge to his eyes seemed to warm. There was still a cautious way he carried himself, but then again, she had that same manner, her body ready to bolt should he make any sudden moves.

“That would appear so.”

“Even if some of us don’t remember that being the case.”

The laugh that she was met with sounded rusty from disuse, but genuine, nonetheless. “If it makes you feel any better, Ravena, I was a bastard back then. I rarely took the time to process names and commit the faces they belonged with to memory.”

“And that’s different now?” Are you a different person was the silent question that burned at the tip of her tongue, but it wasn’t a question she had any right to ask of him. Not yet anyway.

“It is.” She was not a short woman, but he still had to tilt his head and slightly hunch his shoulders to ensure they were at an equal line of sight. “I…I am trying, at least.”

Ah. So her silent question wasn’t quite as silent as she had thought. “That’s all any of us can do,” Ravena replied. “If it makes you feel any better, I guess I can forgive your lapse in memory. Our past encounter was brief.” She gave him a wicked smile. “Almost disappointingly so. Premature, even.”

He made a face, posture relaxing even further at her teasing. “You wound me.”

“A fitting injury to match the blow to my own ego.”

“You know, I could be persuaded to soothe that injury, should you be so inclined.”

Oh. Well this was an entirely different direction for their conversation to take from where it began. “Is that so?” She went back to packing her bag. “And if I was uninterested?”

“Then this would be the last time I brought it up.” He took a step towards her, his voice pitched lower in a way that sent a pleasant shiver down her back. “I may be an asshole when it comes to remembering names, but I can distinctly remember that night.”

Ravena closed her eyes and swayed towards him, so close that the warmth of his body all but sank into her skin. “Once I jogged your memory, you mean.”

“This is going to be a thing with you, isn’t it?”

“I haven’t decided.” She grinned. “Perhaps.”

“Perhaps on always bringing up my past fuck them and forget them tendencies or perhaps on picking up a…mutually beneficial relationship from where we left it?”

Bag packed, she slung it over her shoulder before pressing close to Blackwall’s side. Not giving him any warning, she reached out and grabbed the collar of his gambeson, rising on the tips of her toes to close the short distance between them. It had been some time since she had kissed anyone, let alone this man, but oh. The initial surprise had been sweet, but the answering kiss was even better. Blackwall didn’t wait for any prompting before wrapping his arms around her and hauling her up return her kiss, the press of his mouth against hers almost intoxicating and bringing back several incredibly detailed moments of that night they’d shared so long ago.

She broke the kiss before they got too carried away. While it was tempting to entertain the thought of Blackwall having his way with her there on the nearby table, she was sharing the cabin with Ada and Rolfe, either of the two well within their rights to innocently walk in without thinking to announce their presence.

Ada would have been mortified and run out of the cabin. Rolfe, on the other hand…Ravena was absolutely positive her dearest cousin would have given them a round of applause and some sort of smartassed remark. Ravena loved him dearly and considered Rolfe to be more of a younger brother than a cousin, but she would have had no other choice but to chase him down and kill him for interrupting, so really, stopping before things got too out of hand was for his own safety.

“I’ll let you figure that one out,” she told Blackwall, winking cheekily as she moved past him and towards the door. She gasped when he reached for her wrist again, pulling her back for another quick yet searing kiss.

“I’m a quick study,” he murmured, breath warm against her lips. He moved back only far enough to bring her wrist that was still in his loose grasp to his lips, his mouth moving over the skin there, a silent apology for his earlier mishandling. “Ravena.”

“So I see.” She exited the cabin and held the door open for him. “Shall we? I wouldn’t want to keep Roz waiting.”

“No, we wouldn’t want that.” He held out his arm for her to take as they walked towards the makeshift stables, but she squared her shoulders and walked past him.

“You’re staring at my ass,” she said, not looking behind to confirm.

“It would be rude not to appreciate the view,” he shot back.

She shook her head and kept walking. “Ass.”

The smile on her face remained as they came up to the stables, Roz checking her saddlebags for gear and Rolfe making small talk beside her. Ravena made note of Roz’s worried expression, and she knew that the Herald had good reason to be worried; reports from the Hinterlands were still coming in of pockets of mage and templar skirmishes. While the Inquisition’s agents had made some headway in stabilizing the area, there were still violent flare ups that hopefully would become less and less as fade rifts were sealed and areas secured.

“Everything all right?” Ravena asked, hoping to break the tense silence that Rolfe’s lighthearted yet one-sided conversation hadn’t been able to.

“I guess we’ll find out once we get there,” Roz answered, chewing on her lip. “Are we ready?”

“Ready whenever you are.” Again, Blackwall offered his arm to her as she stood beside her own horse, and this time, Ravena took it. Her branch of the Trevelyan family tree were excellent equestrians, she herself learned how to ride at a very early age, but when an attractive man offered to help her onto a horse, she would have been a fool to let the opportunity pass without taking advantage of it.

Ravena was many things, but a fool wasn’t one of them. It was something that definitely didn’t escape her cousin’s notice either. He didn’t say anything, but the raised eyebrow and smirk he gave her was enough to know that they would be having a conversation once they had a chance for privacy. She sighed and rolled her eyes at Rolfe. It would be easier to tell him the truth; he was a spy by profession and even before his twenty-year tenure with the Chantry, had an uncanny knack for pulling information out of anyone before they even realized they were telling him everything.

Well, almost everything. Ravena glanced at Blackwall, who had elected to ride ahead of them and match his horse’s pace with Roz’s.

Some secrets weren’t hers to tell.

#fictober21 #my writing #otp: the griffon and the raven #ravena trevelyan #thom rainier #blackwall #I haven't written in a while and I am RUSTY but hot DAMN does it feel good to get words out of my head after so long! #I make zero promises on keeping up with a fic a day but I'm going to TRY to finish these prompts #digging into the Sweetheart meets Cousins Trevelyan meets Gaggle of Hawkes AU triptych #I really hope my formatting's okay this is the first time I'm c&p'ing from Word to here in years #also this was written in like an hour with very little editing #no betas: we find our mistakes once we hit Post

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Pity in Short Supply (baon)

Summary:    In the aftermath of the kidnapping, Red has a few thoughts. There's a reason he's always called 'em liabilities.

Tags:  Kustard, Domestic, Established Relationship, Sans/Underfell Sans, Aftermath of a kidnapping, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Underfell Papyrus/Underswap Papyrus, Background Spicyhoney, A Touch of Lemon Goodness

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

By the time the sun was thinking about hopping over the horizon and getting started on its daily workout, the warehouse parking lot was starting to clear out. All the ambulances were long since gone, the only one of ‘em with a person in the back was the guy who was still stuck in that weird foam shit.

Red didn’t believe in karma; he’d spent much too long eating shit himself for that, but if there was any lingering threads of justice still clinging stubbornly in the air, it’d take a long, painful time to get that fucker loose.

Most of the Embassy Security teams were heading back with all the evidence stacked in their backseats and Red was standing in a shadowed corner away from the streetlights watching them pack it in. Some of ‘em would start working on interviewing the kidnappers who didn’t need a few hours to cut them loose from a little chemical warfare, along with the agents the FBI shipped their way. Some were gonna work on getting shit together for the inevitable interviews with the kidnappees sometime this afternoon. Red had some pull and plenty of strings to yank, but even he wasn’t gonna be able to hold back the tide of questions much longer than that.

There was probably gonna be a fit pitched somewhere along the line that he’d sent his trouble twins home to sleep before getting much info, but Red would have to hula that hoop when it rolled in. Wasn’t only about Stretch, it was about his bro; there was only so much the boss could take before he slammed face-first into his breaking point and he’d been skating a little too fucking close tonight for Red’s taste. Better to let him take his pretty little liability home, clean him up, spend a li’l time rubbing his scent all over him again like a dog in heat and wasn’t it a damn good thing none of ‘em could piss.

The last thing any of ‘em needed was his bro snapping and hauling his honey away like a shorter, skinnier, bald version fucking King Kong.

(and was the memory of his brother's bleak face as he sat there waiting for answers while Red lied out promises about getting his liability back in one piece gonna haunt his nightmares, fuck yes, 'course it was, gotta balance those books somehow, there was always a price, he'd learned that lesson fast while he was still carrying his baby bro on the streets. always a price, fucking always)

Red wasn’t too worried about losing any info, anyway. Wasn’t much chance of Stretch forgetting much, not with that eidetic memory of his. Not being able to forget was half of his fucking problems to begin with.

Out in the mostly deserted parking lot, the last couple agents were finished packing up their car, not even seeming to give him a second glance as they climbed in. ‘Seeming’ was the real shit there, to anyone who wasn’t used to watching. The driver, a deceptively slender deer Monster, their antlers cut stylishly down, paused just long enough for their eyes to flick his way. The subtlest of looks, but that was it. They didn’t make a show of asking if Red wanted a ride, didn’t play any ego trips over spotting him, just hopped into the car and sped off.

Good instincts. Red made a mental note to keep an eye on that one. Good, not great, ‘cause they didn’t notice the one standing further back behind him, the guy who took up the best shadows before Red even showed up.

He stepped up now, hands stuffed into his pockets as he shuffled his way to stand next to Red, untied shoelaces dragging on the damp asphalt. They stood there together while the first unbearable rim of sunlight crested and took the shadows with it, bathing them in painful, golden light.

Red pulled out a cigar and bit off the end, spitting it to the ground. He lit a match with a flick of his thumb and held the tip in the wavering flame. When the end was smoldering, he flicked the match into the puddle, the faint hiss of it extinguishing unheard as he asked in a cloud of exhaled smoke, “how’s it going, sansy?”

Red was looking at the empty parking lot, the puddles dotting it like a scattering of miniature lakes across a land of broken asphalt, so he didn’t see Sans shrug, but he could feel it, a ripple in the still air around them. “went like clockwork. we planned for this sort of shit, you know, planned it out for years. worked out possible sceneries with fuzzybuns, toriel, all the diplomats.” Sans’s ever-present smile widened humorousness, “even had a few for edge and stretch, guess we shoulda brainstormed on those ones a little more. don’t know if we coulda come up with that one, though. drugging him was always a contingency, but no one guessed they’d strip his ass down and lose every damn tracker on him.” Another tight shrug, one quick. cramped motion, “we’ll know better next time.”

The plume of smoke rising from Red’s cigar curled in the air, drifting like a mist in the dawn light. Red watched it and nothing else, letting his sockets fall half-closed as he followed the wispy path with his eye lights. “ain’t asking about the fucking ops. how’s it going, sansy.”

There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the rough scrape of gravel shifting under Sans’s feet as he rocked on his heels. “you know, i took up with the security department for paps,” Sans said conversationally. “wanted to keep a close eye on him when he went traipsing around the big bad world to spread the good word. back underground, that whole sentry schtick was an excuse for a paycheck, i wasn’t guarding anything but my own g and a nap.”

“yeah?” Red stuck his cigar between his teeth and bit down, tasting the scatter of soggy, bitter tobacco on his tongue as the jagged tips tore through the fragile wrapper. “that so, sweetheart?”

“yeah, that’s so, dollface,” Sans chuckled mirthlessly. “little ironic, ain’t it, that it turns out i’m good at this shit. who would’ve thought.”

“yeah, never woulda guessed a judge might not be bad at the whole diggin’ up covert info,” Red shook his head sadly, “a shock, really, that ya could put that empty skull of yers to some good use.”

“sweet talker. gonna end up sleeping downstairs with the cat you keep that shit up.”

“fuck, don’t do that,” Red shuddered. “already worried if i don’t get up fast enough to feed that bitch, she’d gnaw off my pinky toe before i wake up.”

“that picky little shit wouldn’t eat you if you rolled yourself up like sushi and slathered on caviar.” Sans hesitated, then asked, softer, “how’s stretch doing?”

“like shit.” Red didn’t bother to cushion it; his pity came sparingly and Sans could take it. “he’s got his judge all cranked up to eleven. caught a helluva glimpse of me when i got here, thought he was gonna puke on my shoes.”

Sans let out a long, ragged exhale. “that’s my fault,” he said bleakly, “i got him to hit his on switch to look for that lost kid, should’ve known he’d have a hard time shutting it down again.”

“maybe.” Red wasn’t too concerned about it. If Stretch wanted to retire and shove all that down into the dark, wasn’t any dust off his ass, but the only way he’d lose it entirely would be if someone ripped it out of him by way of a dustpan. “if those fuckers hadn’t tried to pull a limburger baby on the kid, then it woulda died back down on its own.”

This time Sans chuckle was more real, a little honest humor creeping in. “don’t let stretch hear you call him kid, he’s already got his panties twisted halfway up his spine.”

Red scoffed, tapping away the ash gathering at the tip of his cigar. “honey bun might be the same age as us, but he ain’t as old as we are. don’t matter how the universe tried to age him up.”

The sound Sans made might’ve been a hum of agreement or the juicy, hawking prelude to spitting. The sun hadn’t had a chance to chase away the evening chill and Sans’s jacket was zipped up against it. Over the tab of his zipper, nearly concealed by neckline of his hood, Red could see the glossy rim of well-oiled dark leather, the slightest glint of metal. He let himself look at it for a long moment, take a sip of dark satisfaction at seeing his collar right where it was supposed to be. Then he looked away, back across the empty, crumbling parking lot.

Sans didn’t try to touch him, only shifted his stance until their fingers brushed in a way that could pretend to be accidental, bone lightly scraping bone.

“we should get going,” Red said. The sun was climbing higher, the stars giving way to gauzy, useless clouds. At least stars were interesting, a reminder there was another Aboveground than this one, another path upward that might someday be reached. “we got a lot of shit to do downtown.”

“we do,” Sans agreed. He tipped his head in Red’s direction, slanting him a glance out of the corner of his socket. His eye lights were tinted golden by the sunrise, sly and knowing in a way that had nothing to do with magic. “want me to blow you in the stairwell before we take off?”

Red didn’t wait for him to finish, tossing his half-burned cigar into a puddle, dousing it and sending a splash of ripples through the still water. “fuck, yes.”

He followed Sans into the warehouse and in moments he was braced against the rusty handrail with his shorts around his ankles in the dust, shuddering at the feel of that hot, wet mouth around him, worshiping his cock with lovingly sinful familiarity. Every inch of his focus was taken up by that and there wasn’t room to think about a single other thing. Not even the phantom sensation of metaphorically getting flayed alive by a wild orange gaze, the unexpected, needle-sharp feel of every one of his sins digging in their spidery claws as they crawled up his spine.

He didn’t think about it at all.

-fin

#kustard #sancest #spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underfell sans #sans #by any other name

[emilia3546]

Bring Him Home Part 4 - PoppyCas

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

*****

Poppy

The ground crunched beneath my feet, and I shifted uncomfortably, rolling my eyes when Kieran nudged my side, still in wolven form, he fixed me with an unflinching stare. I leaned against a tree, closing my eyes for a heartbeat, allowing my nerves to harden while I waited for the shouts and clashing of steel that would alert us to Isbeth's retaliation. Still, even with the draken waiting alongside our forces, we would have to be quick, quick to get in, quick to find Casteel, quick to get out again, or we'd all be trapped inside. I glanced down at the marriage imprint of my palm, and flexed my fingers, I hadn't realized that I'd been fiddling with my ring, but I didn't have time to worry about the way it had slightly faded with the shouting that erupted around us. Flame lit up the evening sky, illuminating the silhouettes of draken in the sky, raining fire onto Ascended and revenants alike.

"Move," I whispered, slipping through the servants' tunnel into the castle before us. Without a candle to light the way, I was blind in the darkness, and I clung to Kieran's fur, forced to allow him to guide me through the gloom. He led me down, down, down, right into the bowels of the earth, where the sunlight had never reached, right into the depths of Isbeth's dungeons. A faint glow appeared at the end of the corridor, and Netta snuck forwards, leaving just Kieran and Delano by my side. There was a muffled cry, and a snarl, then Kieran was moving again, prowling forwards on silent paws. The cell block that the vampry had been guarding was empty, as was the next and the next and the next. With each empty cell, my heart raced faster and faster, with each second we were down here, we risked being trapped, we risked Casteel being hurt again, or worse.

A shout broke the silence, and we hurried forwards, ducking into an empty cell block, and pressing close to the door. Someone looked in, his gaze passing over our heads as we froze, hardly daring to breathe in case he heard it. If they found us now we would have no choice but to run, whether or not we'd actually found my husband.

"Nothing!" He shouted, "But there's got to be someone down here, Roland was unconscious," a second voice shouted something back, and Netta winced, but I couldn't quite make it out,

He said to leave it, to make sure that Casteel's guarded. Kieran's voice was strained, even in my mind, but at least we knew that Casteel was definitely here. As the footsteps faded, Kieran gestured to stay still, sneaking out silently to check if it was clear. It was, and he seemed to have found a scent, perhaps the man who had been searching for us would lead us straight to Casteel. It didn't matter if they were guarding him, if anyone tried to stop me from reaching my husband, they would not survive to report back to Isbeth. Another set of stairs appeared, winding down into the earth, my eyes only just managing to make out rough shapes in the gloom. I made to step forwards, but Kieran whirled, snarling into the darkness, at the holder of a candle. 

Armed with bloodstone, well dressed, clean, I lifted my gaze from his weapons, looking higher, and my heart almost stopped, my promise sounding in my blood as I stared into Prince Malik's eyes. Her was the man who had betrayed his people, who had betrayed Casteel, who Isbeth had expected me to marry. My hand dropped to the dagger at my side, and Kieran stepped in front of me, Netta beside him, but Delano made to pull me away, but I shrugged him off,

"You've come for Cas," Malik whispered, tears in his eyes, "He's down there, last cell on the left." I blinked in surprise, not quite trusting his words,

"Anything down there?" A voice from the gloom, 

"Nothing! They must have gotten lost," Malik shouted back, immediately shifting his demeanor back to the one I recognized from Oak Ambler, "Let's do another sweep of the upper levels, no point in sending guards down here," 

"You would help us?" I whispered, the hand on my dagger relaxing slightly,

"Just get my brother out of here. Please. I can't help him while he's here, please, Penellaphe, just go." Those tears in his eyes were real, the pain in his voice, that was real, "From blood and ash, we will rise," he whispered, and slipped away into the darkness.

"Thank you," I whispered, and turned, practically flying down the stairs, taking them three at a time, sprinting down the damp corridor, and throwing open the last door on the left.

I let out a quiet sob at the sight before me. He was here, really here, but he wasn't. 

"Cas?" I whispered, but there was no response, no response, because he wasn't just hurt, he hadn't just been denied blood, he was completely unconscious, had been that way for a while as far as I could tell. I dropped to my knees beside him, pulling his head into my lap, "C'mon, Cas, please," I whispered, his pain, his fear almost overwhelming my senses as I tried to combat the feeling of despair. I love you. I love you. I love you. I held him tight against me as my gift started to work, to heal the countless wounds adorning his body, the pain consuming his mind, but beneath it all, there was something else, chocolate covered strawberries, I reached for it, my eyes flying open as the decadent taste of toffee blasted through me. Hope. All this time, he'd had hope, hope for me, that I would get him out. "I'm here, Cas. I'm here, come back to me, please," tears dripped down my face, falling onto his as I held him tightly, sobbing again when his eyes finally opened, bright, brilliant, honey-colored irises met my gaze,

"Poppy?"

"Yeah, I'm here," I whispered, "We're gonna get you home, okay?"

"Am I dead? Dreaming?"

"No, Cas, no, I'm here, I'm really here." I pressed my lips to his forehead, "And I'm never leaving your side ever again, never, do you hear me?"

"How?" He breathed, struggling to rise,

"Malik. He saved our asses,"

"I hated him, I hated him, and he kept me alive, he fed me, Poppy."

"I know, I know," I muttered, glancing back to the door, Delano gestured outwards, and I nodded, "We've got to get out, do you think you can walk?" He nodded but, even with his injuries fading, the moment I pulled him to his feet his eyes glazed in pain. Something was really, really wrong, and I barely managed to catch him before he slumped into my arms. Delano was by my side in an instant, slinging Casteel's arm over his shoulders, and half-carried, half-dragged him out of the cell. I couldn't help, I couldn't even see once we'd climbed back up the stairs, blindly following behind Kieran as Netta shifted back to her mortal form to help Delano with Casteel. I had no idea where we were, where we'd come from, but Kieran knew exactly where he was going, I had to trust him to get us out, to get us home. 

Light started to filter into the corridor, just a few more steps, just a few more steps until we could reach the others waiting just outside for us. I was still gripping Kieran's fur when he yelped, swaying on his feet, and crashed into me, knocking us both to the ground. Oh gods, that was an arrow protruding from his side,

"Get him out!" I screamed at Delano and Netta, "Get him out!" Kieran panted, struggling to his feet, but a second arrow slammed into his shoulder, sending him collapsing to the floor again. I lost control of exactly what I was doing, and simply reacted, throwing a shield of some sort up between us and the shapes emerging from the castle. The arrow in Keiran's side wasn't that bad, it was bleeding, a lot, but it didn't seem to have done too much damage, but the other one, the force at which it had slammed into him was too much, it was lodged in between his shoulder joints. The pain radiating from him was too much for a simple wound, and the fear, my heart stopped as I realized that the arrow must have splintered bone. "Shift," I muttered, "Kieran, shift." It was an order, nothing short of that, but he whimpered in pain at any movement, "Shift," I murmured again, numbing the pain as arrow after arrow slammed into my shield, distracting my attention. Kieran whined in pain again, but the next time I looked down at him, he'd shifted, and I pressed my hands against the wound in his side, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood. In a moment, Netta was beside us again, hauling Kieran backwards, and I made to follow them, but the moment that shield dropped, those arrows would be unleashed upon my people. I turned my attention back to the tunnel, to the people now concentrating on bringing that shield down. Revenants, a few Ascended with them, but mostly revenants. Without the draken, they would think themselves invincible, but it was the fire of the gods, not just the draken, that would bring them down.

"Poppy," Netta was almost at the end of the tunnel,

"Get back as far as you can. Get them out of here, I'll meet you soon." I didn't need the draken to kill the revenants, they used the fire of the gods, I was the fire of the gods, and that fire burned through my blood, erupting forwards towards my enemies. I was The Queen of Atlantia, standing between a brutal enemy and my people, I was the blood of the gods, I was a goddess, and I would not run any more, not now, now I was going to stand and fight for my people.

#fanfiction #fanfic #fbaa #from blood and ash #blood and ash #poppy balfour #poppy x casteel #poppycas #penellaphe balfour #casteel da'neer #casteel #acogb #acogb spoilers

[emmyrosee]

give us a random headcanon go 👀

UHM OK

So

This got long and kind of angsty I’m SORRY-

Axel and Mark are brothers. Axel’s older than mark by a fairly big margin so he offers that good ol’ elder brother wisdom™️ and Mark isn’t always here for it.

Axel’s had to drag mark out of parties more times than he can count, some because he was worried about his lil bro, some because he wasn’t answering moms texts and axel wasn’t about to let him make their momma feel bad.

Like this one time, their mom was punishing Mark for being completely shitfaced and missing something for their grampa, and Mark straight up snuck out of his room, no note, no regards, nothing, and with his mom fearing the absolute worst, that she’d lost her son, her baby, Axel quickly tracked down his brother and hauled his drunk ass right back home, speeding so fast mark was puking in the truck, yelling at him so bad mark pouted, and by the time they got home his brother was just a needy, scolded mess, and their mom was all over him, taking care of him and letting him puke and whine about his tummyache, and if she needed Axel to get anything, he did, not questions asked.

When mark was going through his first serious breakup, Axel really stepped forwards to work him back to normal, doing things with him other than just drinking the problems away like his friends wanted to. They went to cheap bowling alleys and drank cheap beer, they would drive around at 2 am, blasting music as they passed a joint, and it was probably the first real time- like honest, true, raw- that Mark learned it was okay to be a man and cry. He was hitting Axel, screaming and telling him she was every terrible name under the sun and that Axel had no idea what the fuck Mark went through to try to keep her happy.

When Axel pulled over, he shoved Mark back a little, just enough to straighten him back, telling him to stop being a pussy and just embrace it. She was gone. She was no good for him, and she was gone. She broke his heart, it was okay to be sad, and Mark wore his vocal chords raw with his sobs and shrieks of despair. “Why doesn’t she fucking want me, Axe? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing, dude,” he promises over his brothers tears. “You’re at a stupid age where love doesnt mean shit to nobody. Fuck, I am too. But right now, you’re sad because you’re alone, and one day you’re going to find someone, and they’re going to make you fear a lot of things more important than just ‘being alone.’ Trust me dude. You’re too fucking young to get that.”

They don’t talk about that night often. Axel’s jacket collar had been permanently ruined from Mark’s tears and hot breath against the leather, but from then on, instead of just getting drunk off his rocker when he was sad, he’d just find Axel and cry it out.

Their dad passed away when Mark was young, and their mom never really recovered from it. Because of this, Axel really took the role of being momma’s fix-it man, getting an under-the-table job when he was young and making sure Mark had snacks and lunches while their mom took care of the house. When momma Cluney eventually remarried, she never ceased to thank Axel for all he did, and it always put Mark in a weird feeling. Not that he wasn’t grateful beyond words, he just always felt bad that Axel had to go through that at such a young age.

“You were in Kindergarten,” Axel says cooly, passing his brother a beer. “What were you going to do, sell dunk-a-roos for cold, hard cash?”

“I could’ve done more,” he mumbles, taking a long sip of his drink. “Like... I could’ve been more grateful for the toys and the lunch money.”

Axel chuckles and reaches over to ruffle Mark’s hair, “hey; you were fed. You didn’t give mom too much shit. And on your birthday, you got the Power-Ranger toys you wanted. You were grateful. You just didn’t get why you had to wait until your birthday.”

Mark snorts and shoves Axel’s hand away, sighing softly, “I wish I knew him, dude..”

“You look just like him.”

“What was he like?”

Axel hums and leans back in his seat, fingers swirling the lip of his beer bottle, “I remember when I was nine, I told him I was going to run away. Go live in the treehouse of our old house.” He paused to smirk, “bastard made me a lunch box with two peanut butter sandwiches, a bag of barbecue chips and a juice box and said ‘good for you! You’re a man now, do what you gotta do!’ I never made it off of the porch.”

Mark snickers and they get real quiet. “I miss him,” he admits. “I don’t remember him... but I miss him.”

Axel hums again, “he was moms great love. Never laid a hand on us, nor her. He was a good man.”

Mark raises his bottle to his brother, “you’re a good man too, dude.”

“Believe me, mark,” Axel chuckles sadly. “I’m only a quarter of the man he was.”

On a lighter note, Axel taught Mark to drive. He filled his truck with gas, drove them both out to the city limits, butt-fuck no where, with a bag of fast food and his gps.

“Okay,” Axel hums. “Get out.”

“Excuse me?”

Axel pulled the keys out of the ignition and tossed them to his brother, “you’re driving us back home. Oh, and to CVS, mom needs sugar and milk.”

And with those buggy green eyes, Mark just completely stares at Axel, freaked out and worried (mostly because Axel’s truck is his baby, and Axel was levelheaded enough at all times to hide a body if need be), so with a reassuring smile, axel slips out of the driver side, gesturing mark to slide over the bench-seat, and he slowly walked Mark through the process of starting the car and driving back home.

He hit a curb. And ran a stop-light. Nearly hit a squirrel, but never once did axel raise his voice to him. He would simply tell him it was alright and that “it doesn’t have to be perfect; I just want you to get us home.”

When they finally pull in a few hours later, Mark was so terrified Axel would tell their mom everything, but axel just shook his head. “If I wanted you to be perfect, I wouldn’t have just thrown you into traffic; I wanted to make sure you could drive if I wasn’t around and mom needed you. You got home. We’re alive. Tomorrow, if you’re feeling easy, we’ll go to a parking lot or something. But you did fine.” He smiles and leaves the truck, “but don’t puke in the truck; do it in the front yard, please.”

Which. Mark obeys.

Whenever Mark’s birthday rolls around, Axel drives them up to an old lake house their great-grandparents built, only bringing some clothes, booze and a gas can to get in and out of town, and they fish, make s’mores, and just be kids again. Again, Mark is much younger than Axel, so all the memories Axel has here, Mark doesn’t, so he wants him to enjoy the young years of his life that Axel really couldn’t.

Sometimes, if they’re bold, they’ll bring whoever they’re dating or smashing, but they’ve found it’s better to just have a guys weekend away, only them two in the middle of the woods, with only the fish in the lake to keep them company.

“So you had a treehouse and a fuckin’ cabin before I came along?” Mark asks by the fire, marshmallow clinging to his face childishly. Axel snorts, “dude I haven’t had a birthday party since I was seven, then you showed up.”

“Oh I’m sooo sorry,” Mark sings, rolling his eyes and plopping the last of his s’more in his mouth. Axel sighs dramatically, “don’t be. You made mom happy,” he pats his brother on the shoulder. “And she said I wasn’t allowed to try and return you anymore, so.”

Mark laughs before his brows furrowed, “anymore?”

Axel smirks. “Why do you think you’re so claustrophobic now, Markie?”

“The fuck did you do to me?”

“Shoved you in a box and left you outside.”

“You WHAT.”

“Three times.”

They bicker. They fight. But they’d fucking die for each other. As they got older, they really became best friends and Mark is open to that fact.

In fact, for Axel’s birthday, Mark got his hands on a pikachu doll from the 90’s that Axel was dying to have a kid but couldn’t get because he had to help his mom take care of mark, but every now and again he brought it up to joke.

Mark could tell that, even as an adult, he still wanted that pikachu toy because he wouldn’t shut up about it, so he finally saved up and got it ($150 mint-condition his asshole), and when Axel opened it on his birthday, there was not a dry eye from anyone except Mark.

Big, green eyes flip from the toy to Mark, jaw dropped in surprise and just completely at a loss for words. Mark grins, “now you can shut up about it; you own it. Live your Ash Katchum dreams, freak.”

Axel laughs around his cries, a tattooed hand coming up to stop himself. He wastes no time in stalking his way over to his brother, pulling him in for a tight hug while the younger just hugs him back, still smiling before shoving him off when people tried to get pictures.

“Cant have people who get our Christmas card think I like you or anything,” he snorts, making Axel laugh again before going back to his seat to finish his gifts, but everyone (including himself) knew that Mark won that year.

The first time Axel brings someone home, they’re a guy. Their mom was chillin, she had no problems with it (though she didn’t really expect Morgan to necessarily be a man), Mark was pretty confused. Like, sure Axel always had friends over, but they were never cuddly and touchy before, and it made Mark really curious.

He probably brings it up on one of their fishing trips years later, and axel barely has any clue what he’s talking about at first.

“You seriously don’t remember Morgan?” Mark asks in disbelief. “Like, how do I, but you don’t?”

“I’ve been with a lot of people,” Axel shrugs. Then, he tenses up and a slow grin spreads across his face, “oh. Morgan.”

“Yes! Morgan, the first person you ever brought home!”

“They’re not Morgan anymore,” Axel recalls. “Well, to me anyways. After we broke up, they became she, and her name is Bella. We’re still close, she’s just not Morgan anymore.”

“So... are you... like...?”

Axel smirks, “I’m nothing, dude. No skin off my ass for labels. If you learn anything from me, Markie boy,” he turns to his brother, “do what makes you happy. Love who the hell you want. Mom’s going to love you. I’m gonna love you. And fuck anyone who tells you you can’t.”

“I think I’m straight.”

Axel chuckles. “You’ve just never pursued anyone who hasn’t gone after you; just so happens only women have gone after you.”

Mark frowns and sinks lower in his seat, “do you think... not-straight-guys are afraid of me?”

“I think they’re afraid of your frat-boy-fuck-buddies who tease someone for having any sort of human emotions,” Axel says nonchalantly. “I’ve taught you enough about treating people with respect, your friends don’t have the same drive you do.”

Which brings me to my next point

Axel ABSOLUTELY taught Mark about the birds and the bees.

He drove them both around town not long after Mark turned 14, and he parked at their town’s high school and just... talked about sex. What happens, how does it feel, etc..

“You need to listen to her, Mark,” he says sternly. “The minute you hear a “no,” you fucking stop. The minute you hear a ‘I don’t want to,’ you stop. I don’t care if you’re balls deep inside of her, you slip out, tuck yourself away and apologize for making her uncomfortable.”

“But what if-“

“No.”

That’s the basics; like what happens when you have sex, what how to use protection, and the importance of consent. A while later, once Mark starts going to parties, he drives them out again, only this time to talk about when she says “yes.”

“You gotta work her up,” Axel hums, cigarette low on his lips. “Her body will let you know when she’s ready. If you go in dry, you’re going to hurt her.”

“How do I like... do that?”

Axel smirks, “play with her a little. Kiss her nice and slow... let your hands paw and squeeze, let her moan a little, let her purr... I’ve been with a few girls who like being tickled and picked up, some girls like it more rough and playful too, a smack on the ass, a few bites on their neck-“

“How will I know?” Mark squeaks. “If she like... likes what I’m doing.”

Once again, Axel grins, “believe me, Markie boy- you’ll know.”

Sjfhvdgbgh I WANT MORE, MY BOYS🥺🥺

#yes I own that pikachu doll shut up #and yes it was worth every penny #axel cluney #axel cluney angst #axel cluney fluff #axel cluney imagine #axel cluney deadpool two #axel cluney deadpool 2 #deadpool two #deadpool two angst #deadpool two fluff #deadpool two imagine #deadpool 2 #deadpool 2 fluff #deadpool 2 angst #deadpool 2 imagine #mark #mark assassination nation #mark fluff #mark angst #mark imagine #assassination nation fluff #assassination nation angst #assassination nation imagine #axel cluney x mark #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard angst #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard fluff #bill skarsgård

[kkeidawrites]

Lost Light

Whew, let me tell y'all writing this one shot was killing me...having to re-watch and relive the experience from this made me have a broken heart again like all those years ago. But, here we are.

Loki Laufeyson x black!reader

Disclaimer: The story you are about to read is full of spoilers from the Avengers: Infinity War movie, I do not own any of the quotes or the gifs that are displayed on this fanfic, that all belongs to Disney, Marvel Studios which is a subsidiary of Walt Disney Studios and its proper companies and I would suggest you not read this if you have not seen the movie yet. This story is both fictional and all the characters that are mentioned are all my personal, made up ocs that I wanted to share. So, just you know, prepare yourselves. Thank you.

The stench.

The falling ash.

The haunting distress call, pleading for any help that was close by, didn't reach a willing ear.

Pieces of the ship, that once held all of the surviving members of Asgard, were scattered astray and skewed in space.

Asgardians young and old littered the remaining floating, functioning part of the ship, dead and being stabbed again by the ones who created the carnage to ensure they stayed dead.

Mawu watched helplessly as Thor laid on the bay of the ship, defeated and critically wounded, his breathing was becoming labored but the Moon Goddess couldn't do anything as she was restrained by the large behemoth that had its foot on her back.

They had fought valiantly and fearlessly, but in the end it didn't matter, Thanos had took them down without breaking a sweat. His lackeys went to work to kill the rest of the innocent Asgardians, claiming he was doing them a favor.

"Your people are nothing now...you have no world to occupy." he had said after he broke our spirits. He spoke to us like we were his captured kill from a glorious hunt.

"Your people are powerless, tired, it would be best to end your suffering."

"I know what it's like to lose," the titan turns his back to stare at Loki who shifted his gaze from his wife back to Thanos. The last thing he needed was the titan to know that he was a married man and Loki refused to allow anymore harm come to her.

He had done so in the past and he vowed to protect her since then. Mawu watched powerless as the feeling of the creature's foot pressed a bit more on her back, making Mawu grunt in pain.

"Feels so desperately that you are right, yet to fail none the less."

Thanos approaches Thor and picks him up by the neck dragging him over to Loki's stiff form.

"Turns the legs to jelly. I ask you to what end? Dread it, run from it. Destiny arrives all the same. Now it's here, should I say 'I am..'"

Thor makes a clipped comment and Loki quickly gazes at his brother fearfully then back to the menacing titan's glare.

"The Tesseract or your brother's head." His large fist began to squeeze the new king's head.

"I assume you have a preference?" Thanos asked smug.

"Oh, I do. Kill away." Loki's statement lifts the titan's chin smugly and Mawu's jaw drops in disbelief; the large brute then takes the power infinity stone and presses it against the side of Thor's head. Thor screams from the immense pain that was coming from the stone and Mawu squirmed under the beast's foot.

"Stop it! Leave him alone!" Mawu yells as she struggled. More pressure was applied to her back and the Goddess gasps in pain going limp, and had no choice but to listen to the agonizing screams of the king of Asgard. Tears were running down her cheeks, as a sob left her lips.

After all they had been through, Loki would pull something like this. Mawu believed that her husband had changed for the better and here he was allowing this monster to kill his own brother. She struggled to turn her head and out of the corner of her eye she watched her husband. He was looking conflicted to what was happening. Thor let out another excruciating cry of pain and Loki balled his fists at his sides.

"Alright, stop!" Loki yells.

The power stone was removed from his brother's head and Thor panted helplessly at Thano's side. Loki sighs in relief.

"We don't have the Tesseract. It was destroyed on Asgard." Thor wheezes.

Low and behold, Loki materializes the Tesseract in his right hand, raised to Thano's eye and the titan gives a chilling grin.

"You..you really are the worst brother." Thor says and Loki comes closer to Thanos as if to hand over the sacred item to him.

"I assure you brother , the sun will shine on us again." Loki tells him and that makes Thanos chuckle.

"Your optimism is misplaced Asgardian."

"Well for one thing, I'm not Asgardian. And for another, we have a Hulk." Just as he said that, the green gamma fused hero came barreling through and punches Thanos giving Loki enough time to move Thor out of harm's way.

"Let him have his fun." Ebony Maw tells Black Dwarf who moved to help their master.

Mawu was shocked at the quick turn of events and the pressure on her back was lifted long enough for her to roll out from under Black Dwarf and use her cosmic beam emission to blast him away from her. Sending another beam at Corvus Glaive, Mawu floated over to Thanos to help Hulk.

This brought Proxima Midnight attention to Mawu's sudden escape and she steps in Mawu's way to halt her assault. Spins her three-pronged spear to ready her stance. Mawu readies herself and her hands and eyes begin to glow a bright blue color.

"You won't leave here alive." she taunts with a smirk.

"We will see, bitch." Mawu sends beams her way and Proxima dodges them, moving close to unleash swings from her spear. Mawu dodges them and blocks the ones that reached her face.

Hulk began with having the upperhand on Thanos but, the titan quickly unbalanced him and took his down within seconds, hauling his large body over his head then slamming it on the ground of the ship's bay. Hulk lays there defeated and not moving.

Thor comes up behind Thanos and hits him with a lead pipe that bounces off his armor and the titan turns around and pushes him away. Ebony Maw takes this time to use his psychokinesis and trap Thor's body with the iron from the ship.

Mawu manages to scratch Proxima's right cheek and the woman grunts in pain touching her cheek to feel the blue blood running down to her lip. She gives a battlecry and sweeps her spear under Mawu's feet but she was quicker to jump back and uses her right leg to come down and snaps the spear in half.

Proxima uses one end of her spear to throw at the Moon Goddess and Mawu dodges it.

Elbowing her in the face, Mawu is quick to get onto her hands and spin her straightened feet in a kick combo on her face. Proxima dodges the first spin but was hit by the second one, along with an uppercut Mawu sent once she returned to her feet.

.As she stumbles back from the attack, Mawu grabs Proxima by the neck and throws her down into the ground, raising her leg to bring it down on her head as a final blow when she was suddenly grabbed by the back of her neck and pulled away from her opponent. Black Dwarf had grabbed her threw her but, Mawu was stopped by an invisible force.

The Goddess squirmed from the invisible force holding her and turned her head to see Ebony Maw holding her against her will.

She cursed him in her native tongue as she was left floating at his side.

However, the thing Mawu saw was Heimdall as he prayed softly to his ancestors and her eyes widened at what he was doing.

"Forefathers, let the dark magic flow through me one last...time." his soft prayer was heard and the Bifrost was opened and immediately took Hulk away. Thanos approaches Heimdall and grabs Corvus Glaive's double-sided polearm as he looks down at the struggling man.

"That was a mistake." Thanos tells the watchman of the gods and stabs the polearm through his heart. Heimdall stares defiantly at Thanos until his last breath of life left his body and he fell limp against the piece of metal he was propped up against. Thor cries in anguish as he watched his friend die and glares hatefully at the titan.

"You going to die for that." Thor swears to Thanos then his lips are bound when Ebony Maw seals his lips with metal.

Ebony Maw then presents the Tesseract to Thanos, as he kneels before the titan and the purple brute removes his armor, and plucks the cube from his lackey's hand. He crushes it and inside his hand sits the space stone. He places the stone on his gauntlet and hums in pleasure of the new power flowing through him.

Mawu suddenly feels weak and lethargic, her head begins to pound severely. You see, when the space stone is disrupted, it effects those who helped create the universe, Mawu is beginning to lose her powers because, the space stone is what keeps the balance of all the nine realms in harmony. With a dark heart like Thanos, the space stone could easily kill the creator gods of the universe.

"There are two more stones on Earth," Thanos marvels at the stones on his gauntlet, he then turns his attention to his 'children'.

"Find them my children, and bring them to me on Titan." he orders and his 'children' kneel down in front of him in respect.

"Father we will not fail you." Proxima Midnight says. Mawu glares at the woman.

"Karachi ẹnu kẹtẹkẹtẹ bishi (Stupid kissing ass bitch)." Mawu cursed and Proxima gives her a menacing glare as if she understood what the Goddess said.

"If I might interject," Loki makes his appearance and slowly moves closer to Thanos.

"If you are going to Earth, you might want a guide. I do have experience in that arena." he gives a dry chuckle.

"If you call failure experience.

"I consider experience, experience."

"Oh mighty Thanos," he grew closer now as he sneakily summoned a knife in his left hand.

"I, Loki, prince of Asgard...Odin's son, the rightful king of the Jotunheim, God of Mischief...do hereby pledge to you..." he gives his wife a look. Just one look to show that he loved her and Mawu's eyes widened. Mawu watched in horror as her husband approached the titan and began shaking her head.

"...my undying infidelity." Loki moves to strike Thanos through the throat but, the space stone possesses his arm to stop him. Loki pants in disbelief and Mawu struggles in her metal bindings, trying desperately to get out to help her husband.

"Loki! Get out of there! Loki!" she screams to her lover, whom even if he wanted to, could not move.

"Undying? You should use your words more carefully." Thanos scolds Loki and pushes back his arm, making the God of Mischief grunt in pain as he was quickly disarmed and Thanos gripped him by the throat. Mawu struggled harder as the titan raised her lover higher to get a better look at him. Loki's choking gargles alerted both her and Thor.

"Let him go you alainiye lori (son of a bitch)! Loki!" Mawu grunts as her metal prison squeezed around her body. She watched pitifully as her husband squirmed in Thano's squeezing grip and her tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Don't...Do not do this! Please don't do this!" she cries as the sound of Loki's bones began rattling.

As he struggled, Loki had the gal to look in Thanos in the eyes as he whimpered out one last statement. "You...will never be...a god." Loki then shifts his wavering gaze to his wife and gave her a painful smile then mouthing his love to her before the crack of his neck resounded in the tense atmosphere.

"Noooooooooooo!" Mawu yells.

Thor's muffled cry of anguish is a haunting one as Thanos brings his dead brother's body over to his bound form, dropping him at his feet.

"No resurrections this time." Thanos taunts. The titan then raises his gauntlet and activates the power stone, all around them what's left of the Statesmen began to explode and Thanos uses the space stone to open a portal and the Black Order leave the blowing up ship.

The metal around Thor disintegrated and he quickly crawled over to Loki's body. He looked over his brother's face and sobs left his lips as he hugged him to his chest.

"Loki..." he whimpers solmenly.

Mawu however, had another agenda, once she was released from the metal prison her eyes had coated over to a dark blue color and her hands glowed a illuminated white color. Her adrenaline was high as hell and so was her anger which gave her more of a boost as she flew up from the Statesmen and aimed her glowing hands at Thanos' ship.

"O gba ọkọ mi, ẹbi mi, lẹhinna o ro pe o kan le sá? Iwọ yoo ku loni, aderubaniyan(You take my husband, my family, and then you think you can just run away? You will die today, monster)! " Mawu beams up her hands and begins throwing concentrated cosmic energy balls at the ship.

Two of the engines on the ship went up in flames, and Mawu flew closer to punch a side of the ship but, her assault was cut short when a canon blasted her away. This gave the ship enough time to portal out of there.

Mawu regained her balance mid-flight and her brows furrowed in anger as she watched the ship disappear through the portal. Her tears returned and her adrenaline wore off, as the Statesmen blew up in a purple flash behind her. Mawu welcomed the force of the blast as her eyes returned to its original brown color.

She simply floated in outer space as the debris of both the ship and deceased Asgardians coasted past her. Mawu's eyes caught Loki's departed form and moved closer to him, grabbing his cold hand and pulling him to her chest. Mawu cried in his chest as she wrapped his arms around her body, wanting to once again feel his loving embrace.

The moon has a dark side and it has a bright side but, with how her emotions played out, the moon has been cased in a dark grey hue that stirs the gravity on the Earth.

Mawu didn't care about any of that right now...her husband was dead, her heart has been torn in two, and there was nothing she could do to change it. Mawu's eyes filmed over a grey color and she fell limply against her deceased husband's chest as her body shut down into a vegetative state.

The light was lost from the moon that day and the end of the universe was closer.

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I hope you all had a good cry like I did when I wrote this story. This had been sitting in my brain for weeks, yall. WEEKS. And I finally sat my ass down and wrote it. So, enjoy, like, comment and reblog. Also make sure to head over to my inbox for any requests. Peace y'all.

#black reader #black oc #mawu oc #loki x black!reader #loki laufeyson #fanfiction #black fanfiction #my writing #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson x black!reader #marvel #marvel x oc