#and his sister sits his ass down regularly and seriously asks him. how the fuck are you. be so real right now or i'll beat you. and he

[elysianslove]

you know what sal...I think samu waits for you to actually straight up ask him 'is atsumu lusting for me or something 🤪' and then hes like yeah he is, because he doesn't want to make u uncomfortable or anything by teasing his brother with you.

I think it'd be especially torturous for tsumu if you joined in with the teasing. but not in the way that you might think. so say tsumu's over at yours and the three of you are watching a movie, you and samu sharing a blanket on the main couch and tsumu on the other beanbag or something, and you just start making out with samu. im talking lip biting, groaning, tongue sucking, hair pulling, the works. but then you open your eyes and give tsumu the most evil smirk ever while your tongue is in his bros mouth kfjlsjfdjfn and then you go back to making out with your onigiri man true love

- auri 💘

previous post (and posts previous to it are linked :))

but you’d be so scared to ask him about it, because if it wasn’t true and you were wrong, it would just mean that you’d been imagining it this whole time and it would mean it was you that wanted him and—

you ask anyway, lungs in your throat and hands shaking terribly. you ask him if his brother is lusting after you, and the moment the words leave your mouth, you wish to take it back. the question sounds even more ridiculous when you say it out loud, like it’s truly much worse than you could’ve ever imagined and a big part of you is regretting it terribly. but then osamu says, yeah, it’s obvious isn’t it? and you’re left gawking at him.

then you cautiously add, “and you’re— you’re okay with that?”

he stares back at you, brows furrowed in shock and confusion. “of course i’m not fucking okay with it. but i— i trust tsumu, and i trust you, so i’m not worried. just pissed.”

and obviously that night ends in amazing sex because what other way can you prove to him that no one can love you the way osamu can?

now, osamu’s not one to regularly get jealous, and on the rare occasion that he does, it’s incredibly subtle. his grip on your waist is tighter, smile is less sincere, words are harsher, quieter. it’s because he can’t help it, but at the same time believes that it’s a genuine waste of time, worrying over something like another person catching your eye. it’s impossible when he knows you as well as he does.

this time, however, it’s different, because it’s ‘tsumu, and osamu’s fucking possessive. there’s always an air of competition between them, regardless of what about. when in high school and either were dating, they made it so that they’re proving a point to one another— i’m in a relationship and you’re not. and that was fine, it was fun, because nothing had ever been serious. except he is serious with you. he married you. like shit’s by law now.

the rational part of him knows it’s not worth getting worked up over. he knows atsumu would never try anything, knows you wouldn’t either, and he understands. he gets why atsumu’s lusting after you so much, of course he does. really, he can’t blame him, not with the way your tits sit so pretty or your legs look so smooth or your lips seem so soft and kissable or the way you always smell so nice and smile so pretty. he knows you’re a prize, and it sometimes shocks him slightly how lucky he truly is to have you in his life, someone as — as lovely as you.

so he gets it, but he also hates it.

and that’s why when atsumu comes over the next night, he doesn’t hesitate to lean over and kiss at your neck, riling you up till you have no choice but to sigh and pull yourself up and onto his lap. there’s a movie playing in the background, but it’s not loud enough to cover up the noises you’re making— the pretty little sighs and gasps and moans. and it’s dark in the living room, but not dark enough to hide the way your body shudders and trembles and the grind and roll of your hips against the straining bulge against osamu’s trousers.

you’re right next to him, but, to atsumu’s dismay, it’s his brother’s lap you’re on. it’s his brother’s hands groping and squeezing and kneading at your thighs and your ass and your hips and your waist, and it’s his brother that’s kissing you so messily, so sloppily, so bruising and rough, that he’s pulling out the sweetest sounds deep from your belly and your chest and your throat. you’re whining and mewling and fuck— fuck both of you.

“seriously?” he scoffs, but the two of you barely acknowledge him, osamu offering him the middle finger. he rolls his eyes and decides he’ll just fucking leave then, and heads to the bathroom.

he’s both unsurprised and pissed to see that he’s hard. because it isn’t fucking fair. he takes a minute or two to breathe, to try and think of anything else, but his mind keeps diverting back to the way you rolled your hips so expertly, like you were made for riding cock, and the sounds spilling from your lips that he only gets even harder. it’s a second later that he shoves his pants and boxers down, making sure the door’s locked, before pulling the hem of his shirt between his teeth, biting down hard as he fists at his cock. he tries to make it quick, rolls his hips and flexes his abs and strokes so harshly, so quickly, and he cums embarrassingly quick with your name muffled against his shirt.

the come-down is always fucking awful. he hates himself for even considering you in such a way. you’re his sister-in-law, and he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this, lusting after you so lewdly, so openly. and shit, his brother probably knows now, and if he didn’t stop, if he didn’t hold back, it would get so, so messy. he’s not about to risk ruining both his relationship with his brother and his brother’s relationship with you because he’s too horny for his own good.

he’s about to leave — entirely too, maybe even avoid the two of you for a couple of days, hook up with someone that looks like you so he can sate himself— when he spots it: the laundry basket. it seems misplaced, like you’d brought it here and were gonna get to it before forgetting, which makes sense considering this is a guest bathroom. but all that atsumu can see is your carelessly tossed panties hanging off the edge and he’s stupid, stupid, stupid—

of course he fucking reaches for them. of course once his fingers touch the frilly pair of panties he’s tugging at them so quickly, bunching it up in his hand and staring at his palm like he’s carrying gold.

would you notice?—

shit he’s not actually... considering this, is he? what a fucking pervert, holy shit.

you wouldn’t notice though. probably not. they’re a black pair. you probably have loads of black pairs. he’s heard that black underwear is essential for girls. maybe it’s like that with you too.

before he can think it through even further, he’s shoving the pair in his pocket, and making some dumb excuse to leave, not allowing you two to even see him on his way out. and when he’s home and safe from prying eyes, his wide eyes catch sight of a wet patch on the crotch area, and— fuck these weren’t even clean? god was this from today? right before he’d come over?

when he fucks himself for the second time that night, face buried in the mattress as he fucks a pillow where your underwear sits, he cums with a full body shudder, and his mind hazes over at the sight of his sticky cum messily painting the dark cloth white.

#haikyuu smut #miya atsumu smut #miya osamu smut #miya twins smut #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #sal’s thirst tag <3 #tw infidelity #i think #— vip <3 auri 💘

[buckysforeverprincess]

Can Our Love Survive? Ch. 18

James “Bucky” Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Clint Barton, Sarah Rogers

Words: 1691

Warnings: Coming out, family acceptance

A/N: I’m so sorry I’m behind with this. I’m still going to try to get the regularly scheduled chapter out as well today, if not I promise you’ll get it this week. This chapter is kind of a filler but with everything it serves a purpose. I hope you enjoy it and I promise you more to come!

**TAG LIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED**

The time leading up to Thanksgiving seemed to fly by in your household. Bucky had gone back to school, the two of you being open about your relationship and weren’t willing to hide anything from anyone. If anyone didn’t know the reason for the renewed smile on your face, they either had their heads in the sand or weren’t paying attention to the rumor mill and you honestly didn’t care. Life was on the up for you and Bucky was the reason for it. It’d been a long time since you’d felt this level of happiness within you.

Steve and Bucky had made their way to Bucky's house to clean up one day after school and grab some of the things he didn’t want to leave behind. Steve had told him to grab whatever he wanted, and they’d make it fit in his room. Most of Bucky's possessions were clothes, but there were a few things that held sentimental value and if his dad had his way, he'd toss them, so he thought to take some stuff and be done, letting his dad discard the rest. It really didn’t matter to Bucky if he never had to come back or deal with his dad ever again, he’d be content to live his life parent free. Your boyfriend said he was determined to have a good life despite the people who were responsible for his existence.

Thanksgiving Day arrived and you spent all day either helping your mom or cuddling with Bucky. You didn't have any other family, so you guys always stayed home and watched tv or played games together to pass the time. However, this year was different and there was another person to add to share your small traditions with, hoping this would be the first of many things your family would share with Bucky going forward as your relationship with the brunette grew stronger.

Dinner was in the oven and your mom was in the kitchen, working on an apple pie for your twin. Bucky and you were sitting on the couch, cuddling and watching tv, when you heard a knock at the front door. “I'll get it,” you said, removing yourself from your boyfriend's embrace and getting up from the couch, making your way to the sound. It was a holiday and you weren’t expecting anyone, so there’s no telling who’s standing outside waiting.

Opening the door, you see a blond staring back at you; his hands in his pockets, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “Clinton. To what do we owe this pleasure?” You smirk and lean up against the door frame.

 “Is uh, Steve here?”

 Oh, this is good. “I don't know. It depends.” You shrug and grin, toying with the boy in front of you.

 “Um, depends on what?” Clint scrunches up his face, uncertainty written on his face.

 “On what your intentions are with my brother.” You cross your arms to your chest.

“Baby!” Bucky comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. “Leave him alone,” he kisses your temple and grins at Clint, “you're making him nervous.”

 You smiled at Clint. “He should be! If he’s here, then he’s about to be introduced to my mother as Steve's boyfriend. I'd sure as hell be nervous if I was him You were!”

Bucky let's out a laugh. “Well I had just kicked a guy’s ass in her kitchen. Not something you want to associate with the guy your daughter is dating.”

“You know?!” Clint looks at you surprised, his mouth wide open.

 “Of course, I know! I'm Steve's sister, why wouldn't I?”

 “Cause, he said he never told anyone. So that means your boyfriend must've told you!” Clint held an accusing look at Bucky.

 “Oh no! No way! I never said a word!”  Bucky quickly defends himself.

Before anything else can be said, Steve pushes his way through the door and looks around at everyone, his eyes fixate a little too long on Clint. “Uh, you guys gonna eat out here too?”

 “Actually, I plan to stay right here and harass your boyfriend. I love to see him blush.”  

Steve’s eyes go wide in shock, and steps out of the house, shutting the door behind him. “Y/N! What the fuck?! How'd you know?” There's panic written all over his face.

 You scoff at your twin and shake your head. “Please, you do realize you suck at secrets, right?”

The door opens and your mom looks out, glaring at the four of you. “I've got food, hot and ready. If the four of you don't get in here now, I will lock this door and you will spend the night under the stars while I get fat and happy and send the leftovers to the hospital.”  She turns and walks away leaving you all standing on the doorstep.

It doesn’t take long before your group all make your way into the house and to the kitchen, seeing the meal spread out in no particular order. The food looks and smells amazing and you’re so stupidly hungry that your stomach growls just looking at it all.  

“Mom…,” Steve’s standing next to Clint, looking at Sarah who's grabbing the basket of rolls and placing them on the table.

 “Hmmmm?” She's looking at Steve with her eyebrows raised. The look on her face almost giving herself away, but not quite.

“So… um… you know Clint, right?”

 Clint waves at your mom. “Hi Mrs. Rogers.” She nods at him in return and goes back to setting out silverware for the feast.

 Steve smiles and continues, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck. “Maybe I should introduce him properly.”

 Your mom stops and looks up at Steve with a quirked eyebrow. “Properly?”

 “Well… uh, see Clint… he's uh, he's…,” Clint reaches out and places his hand on Steve's arm, in a sign of endearment, making him smile down at Clint and take in a deep breath. “Mom, meet my boyfriend.”  

“Fucking finally!” Sarah says and goes back to setting food on the table. “I didn't think you were gonna spit it out. Can we eat before the food gets cold?” You and Bucky start to laugh and sit down at the table, leaving Steve standing looking confused at the demeanor of your mom.  

“You're not upset?”  

 “Why would I be?” Sarah replies and you stick your hand out, directly in her face. Your mom groans and takes a twenty dollar bill out of her pocket, placing it in your hand. “Thought you'd never tell us. Known it for years. I kinda thought you were interested in Bucky, the way he was always around, but that went in the shitter when those two started dating.”  

“You had a thing for Bucky?” Clint asks, pretending to be offended. “Is that why I could never come around when he was over?”

 Steve starts blushing, his face beat red. “No! I swear Clint, he was always just a friend! I’d never be the guy who cheats… hold the fuck up, you two had a bet?!” The realization hits him like a ton of bricks.

 Sarah's the one to laugh now. “Actually, the three of us had a bet…,” she's pointing between you, Bucky and herself, “we all bet twenty bucks. I said you'd come out around spring break, she chose Thanksgiving and Bucky said New Year’s.”

 “The twin for the win!” You announce and grab a roll, setting it on your plate.

 Bucky leans into your ear and whispers, “I'll pay you later.”

“Unfuckingbelievable! My own family is against me!” Steve pouts and throws himself down in a chair, being hella overdramatic.

“Aww sweetheart, don't get so salty. They're just having fun.” Clint sits next to his boyfriend.

 Your mom chuckles and brings over the platter of turkey and sets is down directly in the middle of the table. She then sits in her own chair and looks around at everyone gathered around for the holiday meal. No one touches anything, the four of you waiting on Sarah to say grace. Even if you weren't a Rogers, you'd best know that Sarah takes grace very seriously, and the shit will pop off if you touch anything before the matriarch says o’n.  

“Bucky, Clint, welcome.” She starts and smiles softly at the two newcomers. “This is the first of many holidays you'll probably spend in our home. You'll always have a place here at this table, as long as you're good to my kids. They've both been through a lot, and I'm sure you have too. Mi casa, su casa. You'll always be family here.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Rogers.” Bucky replies

 “Yes, thank you.” Clint follows suit and Steve grabs his boyfriends’ hand and gives it a squeeze.

Sarah gives a knowing look and you all join hands, your mother ready to bless this meal. “Dear Dia, thank you for this food we are about to receive and the hands that helped prepare it. Thank you for the blessing of my two children, who make every day worth living and many thanks for allowing us to still be together to share this blessed day. This past year has been a rough one Dia, but you've seen us though and we will forever be in your debt. Thank you for the newcomers to our table and the relationships they have formed with Steve and Y/N, and may you continue to bless them as they go forward in love and life. And thank you James, for finding our Y/N and bringing her back into the light from the darkness within. You'll never know how much it means to both Steve and I to see her smiling face again. We have so many other things to be thankful for Dia, and our family will always be grateful and will never take a single thing for granted. In his name we pray, O’N.”

 “O’N” Steve and you reply.

 “Amen.” Bucky and Clint say in unison.

“Fies!” Sarah happily declares and the four of you dig in and start loading up your plates, Thanksgiving at the Rogers home ready to commence.

Irish

*Dia-Lord

* o’n-amen  

*fies-feast

COLS Tags:

@ellallheart @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @bookgirlunicorn @widowsmaximoff @jhangelface0523 @broco8 @eliza5616 @nighttwingg @bloodyproudpotterhead @sexyvixen7 @marvelismysafezone @orions-stars3 @ava1453 @beardburnsupersoldiers @afterlaughter27 @booboobella01

Forever Tags:

@jamesbarnesappreciationclub @kruscht @palaiasaurus64 @breezy1415 @sarahp879 @supernaturaldean67 @averyrogers83 @scarlettsoldier @lovely-geek @titty-teetee @geeksareunique @peaceinourtime82 @leosandbuckysgirl@the-goddess-of-mischief @mychemicalimagines @awkwardfangirl2014 @collette04 @notyourtypicalrose @onebatch--twobatch  @miraclesoflove @kcd15  @xxloki81xx @death-unbecomes-you @thatfanficstuff  @hotoffthepressfics @chuuulip @unlikelygalaxygiver @lancetuckershairgel  @babypink224221​ @mybabe-buckybarnes​ @shield-agent78​ @the-real-kellymonster​ @caplanreads​

#james barnes #bucky barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes #james barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #steve rogers #steven rogers #steven grant rogers #steve rogers x sibling reader #clint barton #can our love survive #marvel au #high school au #coming out

[iamknicole]

Just the Two of Us (22)

HAHN AU

Candace laid back on her bed and laughed as she scrolled through the pictures I've of her girls sent to her. She had been laying low in the Artesian on Jim's dime of course. Jim came out of the bathroom fixing his tie.

"What's funny?" He asked going to sit on the side of the bed. Candace handed him her phone telling him to look for himself. "And this is?"

"It's Alaina's salon. Its fucked up. You're welcome."

Jim frowned still looking through the pictures. "Remind me who Alaina is again and why I care."

"Alaina is my adopted sister, the one dating Charles. Get her," Candace explained sitting up, "Get Charles too. Job is done."

Jim smiled handing the phone back. "Lead with that next time. Speaking of that though, I need to call and check on that favor. See how it's going."

"Well I'll do that for you. I've got to meet with Mitch later on today. Cause you've got more important things to do right now."

"You're right I do. But you make sure you call me and tell me what he says."

----

Lainey, Marcie and Melissa had settled into their cleaning after getting to the salon a couple hours prior around 6am. Melissa was in Lainey's office sorting through all of the paperwork that had been thrown around the salon as her friends brought it to her. Lainey and Marcie were in the main area of the salon sweeping and picking up debris.

Caleb, his sons, Charles and Oliver had met up at the hardware store to pickup their order. Bishop was were he usually is, watching out for his sister at a distance until the others makes got there.

"Benny, has that boy been to work?"

Benny shook his head at his father. They stood outside their vehicles as they waited for their order to come out. "Nah. But he been working though. Secretary said he has her bring anything that needs to be signed to his house."

"When the last time you saw him?"

"When I beat his ass." Benny slapped hands with his older brothers and smirked. "He don't wanna get his ass whooped again. But last I heard he been spendin a lot of time at his family's bar and that hotel down by River Street."

"Astoria?" Zion asked quietly.

Charles answered before Benny could. "Artesian. He was there last night too. Meeting with Candace."

The siblings and Caleb turned their attention to the governor. His answer was just above a whisper but they heard him.

"How do you know?" Cameron inquire rubbing the top of his head.

"I have eyes and ears everywhere," Charles explained flashing a big smile, "They've been talking a lot on the phone as well. Mitchell is also very sloppy."

"How so?"

Charles shrugged, "He takes the same routes every day, makes calls from his actual phone and he takes meetings in public places. He clearly learned nothing from Mama Rose."

The men talked a little longer until their order came, they helped get it all loaded up and left. When they got to the salon Bishop came over to help them unload everything.

Charles snuck up behind his girlfriend and wrapped his arms around her as she was explaining something to Marcie. She jumped a little then turned in his arms.

"What are you doing here? And dressed regularly."

Charles kissed her chuckling softly. "Good morning to you too, beautiful. Me and Oliver came to help."

"Charles, baby, you didn't have to."

"Like hell they didn't," Marcie laughed, "Which of us was gonna pick these heavy ass chairs up."

"Exactly. Now where would you like me and Oliver to put the supplies we got?"

Lainey stared at him for a second. "I ... put them in the reception area. Thank you, Charles seriously. And Oliver too."

Oliver smiled standing in the doorway. "Its no problem, I don't mind helping out. Just show me where you want me to start."

Lainey hummed looking around her boyfriend, "Can you and Charles get these chairs outta here? They're all busted."

Oliver nodded telling her he was going to grab the toolbox. Marcie stood off to the side watching the couple talk.

"Yes, good morning, Charles. I'm great and you?"

Charles laughed going to hug Marcie and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Good morning, Marcie. I'm good, I'm glad you are too. Cameron actually asked me to send you out there. Said he wanted to ask you something."

Lainey watched her friend leave the room all giddy then looked at her boyfriend. "What did he want with her?"

"Nothing," Charles laughed, "But he was talking about her a lot so was doing a friendly favor."

"Charles, he's gonna get you." Lainey laughed.

"It got you to laugh that's good enough for me. How long have you three been here?"

"Umm a lil before six this morning."

He nodded looking around at the progress they'd made, "Okay, you're not staying past 6pm."

"Says who?"

"Says me. Its gonna be dark, I don't want yall here after dark."

Lainey folded her arms, "You are not my daddy."

Charles smirked, "That's not what you said a couple days ago."

For the next few hours they all did their part to start fixing up the salon. Once the chairs were out of the styling area and in the garbage, Charles and Oliver went outside to help her brothers and father.

#hahn au #have and have nots au #just the two of us

[waitineedaname]

davekat childhood friends remeeting in college au please,,,, my heart (also congrats!! you deserve all the love i stan you sm)

you have all my uwus omg

----

Going to college far away was fucking weird. Dave didn’t mind it, but it was just… well, there were pros and cons to his choice in higher education.

Pro: the school had a really great photography program.

Con: he was really far away from basically everyone he knew.

Pro: being so far away meant he didn’t have to worry about his Bro breathing down his neck anymore.

Con: no, seriously, like really far away.

Pro: his professors seemed decent so far and the dining hall was close to his dorm.

Con: oh god what the fuck was he thinking.

Okay, maybe he was overreacting a little bit. It wasn’t like he was completely cut off from everyone. John had agreed to Facetime him regularly, and Jade sent him tons of Snapchats from wherever far off place she was gallivanting through before she had to go back to school too. Rose was close enough that they could occasionally road trip and visit each other, but not close enough that it could be a regular thing. And hey, maybe he’ll really hit it off with his roommate or something, and everything will be okay.

He plopped himself down on the far side of his English classroom and pulled out his notebook. It was the first day for this particular class and it was only an hour long, so he doubted they’d be doing much else than going over the syllabus, but having his notebook out meant he could doodle and, subsequently, pay attention better. He was busy trying to draw a hyperrealistic eye over a ridiculously abstract SBaHJ mouth just to see what it would look like when the professor reached his name in roll call.

“Here.” He said, glancing in her direction before pulling out the syllabus so he could read over it while still doodling. Having a last name that started with S usually meant they were nearing the end of the attendance sheet by the time they got to him, so unless someone had a name that started with V or something, they were basically done.

“Karkat Vantas?” The professor said, and Dave’s head snapped up. Wait, what?

“Here,” came the raspy response near the door. Dave’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. He’d thought maybe it was just a weird case of someone mysteriously having the same name as his childhood friend, but no shit, that was Karkat. He was like ten when he last saw him, so he looked a lot older and a hell of a lot more exhausted, but there was no mistaking him. Holy shit.

Dave barely paid attention the whole time the professor went over the syllabus, too busy trying to catch Karkat’s eye, but dammit, he was totally focused on what the professor was saying. He almost laughed at how little things had changed. Karkat was always the one hanging off their teachers’ every word, while Dave was the one with the undiagnosed ADHD trying to distract his best friend with whatever he had on hand.

He finally managed to tune back in to catch his professor saying something about how she wanted them to “really form a bond with your fellow classmates” and how they should “pair up with a classmate you don’t know so you have a buddy if you miss class or need help.” Dave damn near leaped out of his seat when she let them loose to socialize for the last ten minutes of class, and he made a bee-line to Karkat’s seat.

“Karkat.” He said, bouncing on his heels at Karkat’s table. Karkat looked up from where he’d been shoving his books back in his backpack and gave him a confused look.

“Uh, hi.” He said, giving him no sign that he recognized him. Dave panicked.

“It’s me!” Dave said, then immediately winced at his own vagueness. “Dave.”

“That… sure is your name.” Karkat was continuing to disoriented and more than a little annoyed.

“No, dude, Dave Strider. We went to elementary school together? You had those bigass glasses and I called them ugly on the playground because I was a stupid five year old with no sense of etiquette - not that I’m much better now, I guess, since this is probably the most awkward way I could’ve possibly reintroduced myself, but, shit, I’m getting off track. You threw mud at my shades and said now we both had ugly glasses, and then we ate lunch together like every day after that. Do-. Do you remember?” He faltered a little bit, worried this was an unfortunate case of mistaken identity. Karkat’s eyes widened cartoonishly as recognition passed across his face.

“Holy shit. Dave?!”

“Yeah, dude, the one and only.”

“Jesus fuck, you got tall.” Karkat commented, sitting back and looking him over.

“And you did not.” Dave teased, relaxed now that they were on the same page. He hopped up to sit to the side of Karkat’s desk. “How the fuck have you been, man? Where the hell did you even move to? It was like you disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“Basically.” Karkat snorted. “My dad got a job transfer out of fucking nowhere that summer and the whole family had to move. It sucked having to start all over in sixth goddamn grade, but whatever. I’m sure you weren’t too distraught at my absence since you had John.” Karkat added, gently shoving at his leg in a halfhearted attempt to get him off his desk.

“I mean yeah, John and I got hella tight after that, but it sucked losing my oldest friend.” Dave shrugged. Karkat gave him a skeptical look.

“You cannot be referring to me.”

“No, I’m referring to some other idiot I started hanging around when I could barely walk. Yeah, I’m referring to you, dipshit. We were like soul brothers, man. Joined at the goddamn hip. Two peas in one dumbass pod pretending to slay dragons on the playground. Or aliens. Or that one time your furry sister started reading those Warriors books and she convinced us to roleplay cats. How’s she doing, by the way?”

“Nepeta’s fine.” Karkat said, amused. “What, are you looking for someone to help you break out of your repressed furry state? Do you want me to draw you a fucking fursona?” He patted Dave’s knee and put on a condescending tone. “It’s okay, bro, I won’t judge.”

“I mean, are you offerin’? What’re your commission rates?” The look Karkat gave him was scathing. “Nah, I’m kidding. If I want furry art, I can just hit up Jade. What I am wondering is if you wanna maybe grab something to eat?” Dave asked, faux casual. “I dunno if you’ve hit up that burger place by the university union, but they’re not half bad, and their fries fucking kick ass. Like seriously, orgasmic level shit. I’d fucking live off of those fries if I could. I mean, I probably could eat nothing but overly seasoned fries until the day I die, but that date would be way sooner than it should be because I’ll have destroyed my digestive tract with salt. But, you know, you gotta make sacrifices for what you love, and I’m telling you, I really do love those fries.”

“Jesus christ, you really haven’t changed.” Karkat rolled his eyes. “Here I was hoping - no, praying that puberty might have forced you to finally grow a single brain cell, but I guess I should be used to my dreams being dashed and splattered to oblivion like someone took the most fragile, paper thin egg thrown against a brick wall. Oh, you see that tiny little dribble of yolk sliding down the most microscopic sliver of an eggshell? That’s the last of my hope for humanity leaking away because you’re still a goddamn imbecile.”

“Yeah, well, puberty finally helped you grow a jawline. Shit could cut diamonds. Uh,” Dave panicked, “Not that I’m checking out your jaw or anything. Fuck, that wasn’t even a good come back, goddammit-”

Karkat’s simultaneously exasperated and fond made his heart flutter just the tiniest bit. “Just take me to the fucking burger place, shitbrain.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Maybe he wouldn’t be too lonely after all.

#dave strider #karkat vantas #davekat #homestuck #THIS IS SUCH A GOOD PROMPT THANK YOU #my writing #okay to reblog #and thank u for the love omg <3 #u know how I said I'd made some really good friends??? #that's you bro!!!! #thank you for making this a Good Time #notedchampagne #asks

[snarky-badger]

Could I have maybe a love Triangle between Eddies best friend (who has super strength) Anne and Venom? Maybe S/O sees the way Venom is so careful with Anne? And is a little jealous? Cause she wants Venom to look at her like that? Maybe Eddie/Venom read her text messages to her friend about how much she actually likes him?

[text messages]

You’d met Eddie at work. He was a new up and coming journalist, just transitioning from being in front of the camera to the printed word. On his first day, he’d looked so lost and on edge, shoulders hunched a little as he’d stared at his new desk and cubicle, that you’d quickly gone up and introduced yourself, if only to reassure him that no, the people there didn’t bite.

He’d been a little wary at first, but relaxed quickly, especially as you’d given him the short tour that had included a quick demo on how to kick the photocopier in just the right way to get it working.

A friendship between the two of you had grown, rather quickly. You traded information, sometimes collaborating on pieces, or helping each other out on tough assignments.

One of those assignments had almost gotten you shot when you’d accidentally stumbled into a bar run by the mob and asked the bartender a wrong question. Wasn’t your fault, you’d just been asking for information. How the hell could you have known the Mob Enforcer was sitting at the end of the bar?

It was then that you’d been introduced to Eddie’s ‘other half’. He’d shoved you behind him with enough force that you’d fallen, landing on your ass on the floor. Had mutely stared as blackness rose from his skin, enveloping him, his form doubling in size. Long tongue lolled out from between wicked rows of fangs, pale eyes narrowing at the one that was pumping ineffective bullets into him.

Venom. Holy shit.

You’d seen photos of course. Read the articles. Seen the news. Venom. The supposed ‘Demon of San Francisco’.

You’d always taken that title with a grain of salt. You’d never read about him harming random people, only murderers, muggers, drug pushers.

But then again, you knew how society equated ‘different’ as ‘bad’.

So when a the bartender ducked under the bar and came back up with a shotgun, you hopped to your feet and darted a hand out to grasp the barrel of it, smirking as you applied force, the metal twisting and folding in your grasp as if you were crumpling a ball of paper.

Eddie hadn’t been the only one hiding a secret.

The bartender had done a double take, and you’d calmly shoved him in the chest, the push sending him flying. He hit the wall of bottles with a crash, cheap booze and bits of glass raining down on him as he slumped to the floor, unconscious.

The lack of gunfire had you turning, suddenly nervous again when you saw that Venom had ripped the shooter apart and was now staring at you in what you thought was shock.

“You’re not the only one with secrets,” you’d muttered with a shrug, pausing to gulp down an abandoned shot of bourbon before turning and heading out the door.

It had been Eddie that had caught up to you afterwards as you’d been walking back to work, looking frazzled and shocked.

“What was that?!”

You’d arched an eyebrow at him cooly. “Which part? The part where I accidentally got us shot at or the part where I didn’t tell you I’m a mutant and I’m capable of throwing an SUV across a football field?”

He’d stared at you for a long moment before chuckling and falling into step next to you, shaking his head as he’d bunted his shoulder to yours.

The two of you had become close friends after that. You’d even gotten a proper introduction to Venom, discovering that the symbiote had a mind of it’s own and regularly got Eddie into trouble. It also explained why all the chocolate candy you kept hidden in your desk at work kept vanishing. Sneaky goo alien kept stealing them when you weren’t looking, the bastard.

Three months later found the two of you standing outside a stately house, Eddie grinning as he knocked on the door. You shuffled nervously. He’d insisted on you meeting ‘Anne’ his ex turned friend, who, as a lawyer, might have insight into a new article he was working on.

You’d tagged along, hesitantly. Eddie, you’d discovered, was oblivious as fuck. You’d developed feelings for him after weeks of sharing meals while pouring over research for various articles and editorials, but he either was clueless or just not interested.

So you’d shoved those feelings deep down into the pit of your stomach, telling yourself that even if he wasn’t romantically interested in you, at least you had him, and Venom, as friends. It was better than nothing, you told yourself. Better than not having them in your life at all.

But when the door opened, and Eddie had beamed at the pretty blond in the doorway, you’d felt like someone had kicked you in the stomach. It took everything you had to smile and reach out to shake Anne’s hand when Eddie introduced you, so very careful not to squeeze too hard.

Anne had ushered the two of you inside, and you’d gotten a second punch to the guts when Venom had materialized himself a little, his head appearing on a stalk stemming from Eddie’s back, the symbiote purring a greeting to the woman, who smiled back in return. The alien never really showed himself when you were around.

Jealously, hot and rancid, rose in you, and you clenched your hands into fists for a moment as you beat the feeling back, taking  a deep breath to try to calm yourself. Years of controlling your strength had taught you how to find your center and push back anger and grief - both were dangerous. Both unbalanced you and made it harder to keep a lid on your abilities.

So you pasted a smile onto your face, accepted coffee, made small talk, and let Eddie gush and beam and joke with this woman that you wished was you. Ignored the symbiote when it sent a curious look your way, pale eyes narrowed, and you offered Venom a weak smile and a shrug as you sipped at your drink.

Afterwards, when Anne bid you and Eddie farewell, you lied to him and said you needed to run some errands, needing to get away, to get some distance so you could breathe without having the urge to scream. He’d smiled, giving you a too short hug, and you’d watched him walk away, feeling like something had ripped your heart out.

Chest feeling tight, you pulled out your phone as you stumbled home, quickly texting a friend that you trusted. You trusted her with everything, even the fact that you were a mutant. You’d long ago started to complain to her that Eddie was dense and not picking up on your signals, so you knew that your text of [Fuck my life] would be properly understood.

A moment passed before your phone chimed. [Still? Girl, just invite him over and get naked in front of him.]

A snort left you. [I’m not that brave.]

[You could snap him like a toothpick if he says anything except ‘wow’.]

You quirked a brow. Didn’t know if you were strong enough to fight Venom. And you didn’t want to find out. Not with his penchant for biting people’s head’s off. [Blood’s a bitch to get out of the carpet.]

[Seriously. Just tell him. If he’s too dense to pick up smoke signals, try a bonfire.]

[He likes someone else,] you texted, morosely, remembering the happy look on Eddie’s face when he’d seen Anne. Exes or not, you’d never seen him look that pleased to see anyone before. [She’s blond and smart and pretty and I’m just some freak and I feel like gum under a boot.]

[Sweetie, no! Look, talk to him. The worst that happens is that he says he’s not interested. At least you’ll know! Right?]

[No. The worst that’ll happen is that I’ll lose my best friend. It’ll be like my sister finding out I’m a mutant all over again. He’ll smile, nod, and then never interact with me ever again. I’ll see him at work and it’ll be awkward and horrible and….]

[And it’ll feel like having your heart ripped out.]

[Yeah.]

[Fuck.]

[Yeah.]

[Well, shit. Get drunk?]

You paused and turned your head, looking at the liquor store across the street. [Good idea.]

You shoved your apartment door open minutes later, using too much force and nearly ripping it off it’s hinges. Sighing, you shoved it closed, jamming it into the frame, then paused long enough to lock and slide the chain into place before going to set the bag you were carrying onto the kitchen counter. Pulled a glass out of the cupboard, and a bottle of Kracken Rum out of the bag. Then, kicking your boots off along the way, went to throw yourself down onto the couch.

“Move to a new city,” you muttered as you tossed your phone onto the coffee table before pouring yourself a shot, throwing it back with a cough. “Get a good job. Make new friends. Fuck you school counselor, fucking rat bastard.” Another shot of rum vanished, burning it’s way down your esophagus to settle, warm, in your stomach. “Didn’t say anything about emotional torture, did you? Nooo. Just paint a pretty picture and get the mutant freak out of the small town!”

Your right hand clenched too tight on the glass, and it shattered in your grip, the alcohol in it spilling to the floor amidst shards of glass.

Sighing, you guzzled rum straight from the bottle, then got to your feet and stomped over to the kitchen, retrieving a towel. Muttering, you went and cleaned up the mess you’d made, pausing when your phone chimed again.

You huffed a growl as you picked it up in your good hand, groaning, loudly, when you saw who was texting you.

“Fuck me,” you sighed, because, really, how much worse did your day have to get? Typed a response, even as you muttered more curses under your breath. [What’s up, Eddie?]

[Hey. Thought of something for the article. Mind if I come over and brainstorm with you?]

You looked at the state of your front door, the glass, the small puddles of rum on the floor, and grit your teeth to stop a scream. [Kinda not a good time.]

[You okay?]

“Fucking perfect,” you growled. [Fine. Just… a little drunk. Not really in a ‘brainstorming’ mode anymore.]

[Oh. Okay. See you at work?]

[Yup.] “Smilie,” you muttered darkly. “Add a smilie so he thinks you’re okay.” Dutifully added a ‘good night’ along with a little ‘:)’, then threw your phone onto the coffee table and grabbed your bottle of rum again, guzzling. “Fuck my life.”

Your turmoiled emotions managed to keep you conscious up until you got three quarters through the bottle. Then your body gave up the fight, and you passed out on the couch.

Morning greeted you with a headache, the feeling that you might have been chewing on the couch in your sleep. Groaning, you rolled onto your back, rubbing at your face, then screamed, trying to throw yourself off the couch and only succeeding in thudding to the floor when you saw Venom leaning over the back of the furniture, eyeing you worriedly.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you howled from the floor, clutching at your head afterwards when your voice rebounded inside your skull. “Don’t you use doors?!”

Venom had reared back a bit at the ferocity of your scream, but now, he actually looked amused. “WE KNOCKED, BUT YOU DIDN’T ANSWER.”

“Nnnugghh.” Groaning, you peeled yourself off the floor, staggering to your feet and heading for the kitchen. You needed coffee. A lot of it. Now.

Nearly put your arm through the counter when you stumbled, and you grumbled as you jabbed at the coffee maker’s controls, filling it with water before turning it on, the sound of burbling filling the small room.

Venom was looming in the small kitchen entryway, eyeing you worriedly. “ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

“I’m hungover, so that would be a definite ‘no’,” you grumbled as you sidestepped around him and headed for the bathroom. “Just… just gimme a minute. Raid the fridge, siddown, whatever, just….  fuck off for half a second.”

You made it to the bathroom, and got the door closed. Stared at yourself in the mirror and blinked at the fucking mess that stared back at you. Your hair looked like a tumbleweed and you had lines from the pattern on the couch squished into your cheek.

Attractive.

Trying not to puke, you pee’d, washed your face, brushed your hair so it didn’t look like ‘Hair of Death’, then brushed your teeth to eliminate what was surely one hell of a bad case of morning breath.

That accomplished, you staggered across the hallway into your bedroom, and changed out of your outfit and into some clean underthings, fresh jeans and a clean tee.

Well, you didn’t feel human yet, but you at least looked the part.

Deciding that you couldn’t hide all day - no matter how much you wanted to just curl up in a whole and die - you shuffled out of your bedroom and headed back to the kitchen. The smell of coffee settled your stomach, and you sighed, tired, aching, as you retrieved a mug and poured yourself some liquid caffeine, then sipped at the too-hot drink.

Eddie had made an appearance, and you found him sitting on the couch, frowning down at something in his hands.

Your stomach bottomed out when you saw he was looking at your phone.

For the second time in less than a day, your hand clenched tight and shattered the thing you were holding. Scalding hot coffee washed over your skin and dripped onto the floor, Eddie sending a shocked look your way when you merely stood there and let it happen, trembling slightly.

He had the sense to look embarrassed. “I–”

“Get out.”

Eddie blinked at the angry rasp that left you. “But–”

“Get. The fuck. Out!” The last word came out in a shriek of rage, and you felt pieces of the broken mug crunch under your foot as you stormed forward, grabbing him by his hoodie and hauling him off the couch.

You were halfway across the apartment, fully intending to bodily throw him out the front door, when blackness moved under your hand. Eddie vanished under the symbiote as Venom took over. His form grew another foot, shoulders widening, muscles growing, and you grunted at the new weight, shifting your footing, shoulders tensing as you hefted a little more and shoved.

Venom flew backwards and slammed into the wall hard enough that he left a dent in the plaster, those pale eyes widening as you clenched your fists and got ready for a fight. Because you needed a fight. Something, anything, to get the feeling of betrayal out of your system.

Amazingly, a low, rumbling, chuckle left him. “THAT WAS HOT.”

The urge to fight fizzled out with a wash of disbelief. “What?”

Those fangs bared themselves in a wide grin. “YOU HEARD US.”

Okay. Now you wanted to scream. Gritting your teeth, you sunk your hands into your hair and turned to stomp into the living-room a bit before spinning back to glare at Venom, who blinked. “Just… What the fuck?! You can’t just come in here and read someone’s goddamn texts, that’s like, fucking invasion of privacy!”

“MORSEL…”

“Hush!” You pointed a finger at him. “Shush! Shut. Up.”

“NO.” He stalked forward, and you held your ground, glaring up at him as he moved into your personal space. “EDDIE WAS WORRIED ABOUT YOU. ANNIE CALLED HIM, TOLD HIM HE WAS AN IDIOT. SAID YOU LIKED HIM AND THAT HE WAS BLIND.”

God. How transparent had you been that a complete stranger could tell that you were fucking pining like some old timey damsel. Fuck.

When you didn’t say anything, Venom leaned down, face inches from yours. “HE WORRIES. THINKS HE HAS TO PUSH PEOPLE AWAY BECAUSE OF US. IS AFRAID THAT WE’D HURT YOU.” He tiled his head, pale eyes narrowing a little as he smirked. “BUT YOU’RE NICE AND STRONG, AREN’T YOU?”

You grit your teeth hard enough that your jaw twinged. Had to force yourself to calm down before you cracked a tooth. “What’s your point?”

“OUR POINT, MORSEL, IS THIS.”

You gasped as he yanked you forward, one taloned hand gripping your shoulder as he crashed his mouth onto yours. His tongue slipped between your lips, invading and exploring your mouth, the low rumble that left him vibrating into you and making you shudder in reaction.

He literally kissed the breath out of you, and you were panting, dazed, when Venom finally pulled away. You sucked in a shuddering breath, and when you opened your eyes, it was Eddie’s face that you focused on, his steel blue eyes instantly locking onto yours.

“We’re sorry,” he murmured, his hands sliding down your arms, palms warming your skin as he curled his fingers around yours. “I’m sorry for… Fuck. Everything? Yeah. Everything. We… I thought– I don’t know what I thought. That you’d be afraid? Or… or something.”

You let your breath out in a sigh, all the remaining anger draining from you and leaving your hangover to take it’s place. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Sorry. Your phone chimed and… Yeah. Shouldn’t have done that. Your friend though, wants to know if you, ahem, ‘grew a pair and boned him yet’.”

The wicked glint in his eyes, and the feeling of the blush warming your face, made you want to vanish into the floor. “Goddamn it.”

Eddie chuckled. “We were wondering if we had competition.”

You stared at him for a moment, then groaned and closed your eyes. “I need coffee. Do you want coffee?”

He had the good graces not to outright laugh at how flustered you were. “Sure.”

“Okay. Good. Coffee.” Eddie followed you to the kitchen, and you did your best to squash the urge to drink the rest of the rum. Instead, you took out two mugs and filled each with coffee. “You want sugar or milk? I make this strong, so…”

“We’ll risk it,” he smiled, and you shrugged as you handed him his cup, leaning back against the counter as you drank from yours. Had to stifle a laugh when he took a sip and made a face, eyes watering.

A snicker left you. “I did warn you.”

“Jesus, this could melt tank armor!” Eddie moved to the fridge and pulled out the milk, adding a copious amount to his mug. “How can you drink this?”

“I like strong coffee. Wakes you up in the morning.”

“This would revive the dead! Where’s the sugar?”

You watched, amused, as he moved to the small bowl of sugar on the counter and started to spoon some into his drink. At the fifth spoonful, you rolled your eyes and snatched up a dish cloth, leaving him as you went to clean up the remains of your first cup of coffee.

The liquid had made a stain on the hardwood, and you carefully gathered up the bits of broken mug before wiping up the cold coffee off the floor. Set it on the coffee table when you were done, sighing as you sank down onto the couch and waited for Eddie.

He shuffled out of the kitchen moments later, sipping at his coffee again, and you wondered how much sugar he’d put into it. It looked a little syrupy.

Eddie sighed as he dropped down onto the couch next to you. “So… Did we crash and burn or…?”

You gave that some thought. “You crashed. Spectacularly. But, were revived on scene.”

A chuckle left him. “Does that mean you’ll let us take you out for breakfast and real coffee?”

“This is real coffee.”

“It really isn’t.”

”Hmpft.”

Eddie snipped at his drink a bit before grinning. “It was kinda hot, you picking us up like that,” he commented offhandedly, helpfully reaching out to slap you on the back when you choked, coffee filling your sinuses.

“You’re weird,” you rasped once you could breathe again.

“I’m bonded to an alien symbiote.‘Weird’ isn’t even on the map anymore,” Eddie smirked, chuckling when you rolled your eyes at him. He took another sip of coffee, made a face, then gave up and set his mug on the coffee table. “Offer of breakfast still stands. We can, uh, figure some stuff out over pancakes or something. If… if you’re interested? I mean, we’re… Venom’s been pushing me to talk to you for weeks, but I was afraid…” He cut himself off with a huff and shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Annie called me a moron and told me to just jump in. That you were waiting for me to make the first move. So… we’re here. Moving.”

You eyed him, and the black tendril that extended from his shoulder to caress your cheek. You reached up to touch it, smiling a little when it curled around your fingers and squeezed, cool and sinuous. “Breakfast, huh?”

He nodded, smiling warmly. “Our treat.”

“…you look at my phone again without permission and I’ll feed it to you.”

Venom’s face materialized on a stalk and grinned at you. “KINKY.”

#snarky is writing #filled prompt #eddie brock x reader #reader x eddie brock #reader x venom #venom x reader #venom #eddie bro

[nancywheelxr]

(our friends set us up on a blind date as a prank because we don’t like each other but neither of us wants to let them win so ) | Part 7:

( part 1 ) ( part 2 ) ( part 3 ) ( part 4 ) ( part 5 ) ( part 6 )

Weeks pass surprisingly uneventfully, but even amidst the dull boredom, something stays with Winn, nagging at him to pay attention. Alex hadn’t meant anything by her comment, not really, not this time, but it makes clear they have to step up their game if they want to keep this up for much longer. Soon, people will begin to wonder why they never seem to go on “dates”. And god knows the DEO loves a good gossip.

So when Kara asks if they want to go get drinks after work, Winn makes a big show out of telling her no, he can’t, actually, because you see, it’s date night.

The choice of words is important, too. He’s very proud of that. Date night, implying a routine, implying they did this before, implying they go out regularly.

And he thinks Brainy notices it, too, because he smiles from across the table, knowing and private, eyes shining under the lights, before going back to his conversation with Alex.

Kara grins, watching them. “Right, are you guys planning anything big for Valentine’s Day?”

“Sure,” he replies easily, “I’ve got reservations at that fancy french place downtown.”

She coos, shaking his shoulder excitedly, “oh my god, that’s so romantic! You’re taking him back to the place of your first date!”

“Yeah, well, not to brag, but I’m a damn good boyfriend.”

“You are constantly bragging,” Brainy comments, suddenly appearing at his side, “although you’re not incorrect. This time.”

Winn snorts, “thanks, babe.” A foot steps on his, and he has to bite back his snickers, “anyway. We were talking about how awesome I am, right? We should go back to that.”

“No, but seriously, how did you get that reservation? And at Valentine’s Day?” Kara says, gaping, “I heard there’s a month-long wait list.”

He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “two months long. But I actually made them back in December? I mean, I was already there anyway, so I asked just to see– who knows, right? And there was a table left, so I took it. Seemed smart at the time.”

“Not at all,” Brainy frowns, apparently not grasping the logic of that, “two months are too far ahead, what if we had broken up?”

“Nah,” Winn grins, swinging an arm around his shoulder, “I thought it was worth the gamble. ‘Sides, I have faith in us, man.”

The frown clears from his face, but Brainy keeps looking at him with surprise– no, that’s not right. Something surprised and disbelieving in his eyes that Winn wishes he had more time to figure out properly–

Someone makes gagging noises nearby, drawing their attention away from each other. It’s Alex, faking a disgusted grimace, “yeah, yeah, we get it,” she rolls her eyes, waving them off, “you guys are disgustingly in love.”

If she wasn’t grinning just like her sister, Winn maybe would be inclined to believe the annoyance on her words, but as it is, Alex isn’t fooling anyone. She’s just as happy for them. And maybe if he hadn’t meant it what he had said earlier– he did have faith in them at the time. Half-drunk and excited with their new plan, he had been absolutely goddam sure they would be able to pull this off– then maybe he would feel a little bad for tricking them.

“It’s a love story for the ages,” he says. His smile slips briefly, but it goes unnoticed.

“Absolutely revolting,” she shakes her head.

Kara elbows her sister, snickering along. “Let them live, Alex,” she keeps a straight face for about a second before adding, “they have a date tonight.”

“You know, I met thirteen-years-old more mature than you two,” Winn tells them matter-of-factly, then turns to Brainy, “are you ready to go? Or do I need to entertain the peanut gallery for much longer?”

“There are no peanuts here,” Brainy gives him a perplexed look, “do you want peanuts?”

Right, he should’ve seen that coming, this one’s on him. “No, it’s just an expression, it means they’re children and their comments are stupid.”

“Oh. It’s a very misleading expression,” he shrugs, “but in that case, yes, we can go now.”

“Great,” Winn claps, whirling around, “shall we?”

“Have a good date,” Kara calls.

“And bring him back before midnight!” Alex adds.

“Will do,” he laughs.

*

“I have a very important question,” Winn says with a serious expression. He’s just finished locking the door, and Brainy is still hovering nearby. “Have you ever played Mario Kart?”

He throws his keys in the vague direction of the dish by the door, and Brainy follows him into the living room, sitting down on the couch. “I have not. The only games I know of are the ones Kara has brought at Game Nights.”

“Yeah, right, right, she told me you were there a few times,” Winn says, hooking up his game system on the TV. “She also mentioned it was a bit of a learning curve?”

“There were no explosions and no kittens,” he complains, huffing forlornly, “everything is so misleading in this century.”

“Even Scrabble? I thought you would be good at that one.”

“We haven’t had the opportunity to play it,” Brainy says diplomatically and takes the controller passed to him, turning it around curiously.

“Seriously? Kara hasn’t lifted the ban yet?” Winn scrunches up his face, “but then again, we’re still strongly against Mario Kart during Game Night, so. That’s fair, I guess?”

Only sort of, though. Adding the letter s to every completed word on the board just to see Alex slowly go through all five stages of grief does not compare to breaking one’s favorite controller during Mario Kart. The thing was crushed. To smithereens. But he supposes some games are just not meant to be played by a group of very, very competitive people.

They haven’t banned Monopoly yet, though, for some reason.

“Nevermind that,” he shakes his head, focusing on the task ahead, “so. I figured since we gotta stick together for a couple hours, we could just stay here and chill? I’ve got Mario Kart, Netflix, and the pizza place on speed dial.”

“Not Massimo’s?”

“God no, that place is stricken from the records. Giorgino’s two blocks down– and before you ask, yes, I’ve checked and they’re willing to make your weird apples and olives pizza.”

Brainy smiles. “It is the only acceptable flavor of pizza.”

“And people think pineapples were the real crime,” Winn laments.

The familiar song kicks in as the menu pops up, and Winn does his best to explain the game. It’s fairly simple, after all, and it’s not as if they were going straight for the rainbow road. Brainy picks up on it quickly, choosing Luigi as his avatar. Winn, of course, chooses Yoshi because some traditions are meant to be followed. And, weirdly enough, it’s not so bad. Throwing shells at him is very entertaining, watching his confusion as to why he’s suddenly spiraling off the road turn into suspicion turn into really? And that turns into spite pretty quickly.

Because the thing about Mario Kart is that it’s so much more fun when you’re overly competitive– and not gonna lie, both of them are guilty as charged on that one.

“Fuck off,” Winn says, too busy to physically flip him off, “that’s cheating!”

“No, I am merely using the resources available in the game,” Brainy replies calmly.

“I don’t know how yet, but I know you are and I will figure it out,” he threatens, leaning to the right as he makes a curve, “in the meantime–”

“I’ve told you I’m not– wait. What happened? Why have I shrunk?” Brainy glares at him, “and I’m the one cheating?”

Winn laughs.

He had been so prepared for tonight to suck, it’s almost upsetting how well it goes. They don’t argue properly, no more than the usual bickering, which by now it’s mostly fun. Brainy accepts the beer he tips in his direction, humming pleased and somehow not swerving on the road while holding the controller one-handed.

That’s so cheating.

“So, you want that pizza now?” Winn asks, pausing the game.

“I could eat,” Brainy decides after a moment of indecision. He might have been aiming for a nonchalant, cool reply, but his stomach betrays him, growling earnestly, and he sighs, halfway amused, “I meant, yes, I would like that pizza now.”

Hiding his snickers, Winn digs around for his phone, lost somewhere in the mess they made of the coffee table. The pizza place is on speed dial and the teenager on the other end of the line apparently isn’t paid enough to judge his weird ass order.

“Appalling,” he says later, when the two pizzas are laid side by side and the olives stare back at his soul amidst the apples. “God really has left us.”

“Try it,” Brainy tells him, eyebrows raising in clear challenge. He picks up a slice for himself and nudges the box towards Winn.

And well. It is a truth universally acknowledged, that Winslow Schott, Junior cannot back down from a dare, so he sets down his own pepperoni slice and carefully takes the olive and apples, gingerly raising it as if it were a nuclear bomb about to go off in a crowded mall. A deep breath. He takes a small bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Eh, it’s not so bad. I thought it would be worse, to be honest.”

Brainy gives him a victorious smirk, “would this be a good time to say I told you so?”

“It’s never a good time to say that,” he scowls, washing down the taste with beer, “and it’s still weird.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” They eat in relative silence for a while, and Winn isn’t surprised to see him slowly working his way through the entire pizza. The game is soon switched for some very unrealistic action movie neither of them recognizes, but the explosions do look cool with the electronic soundtrack.

“It’s a shame there are no pizza places in the future,” Brainy comments idly.

“Oh my god, I know, right? I searched everywhere for one, it didn’t even have to be good, the bar was at existing.” Winn says, gesturing broadly with a slice, “and how come there are no bananas, either? And no one even knew what I was talking about, it was like they didn’t even exist! Like, I didn’t look it up because, you know, spoilers, but what happened? Did we all as a species develop a sudden aggressive allergy to bananas and had to destroy all records of the fruit? Is there gonna be another banana apocalypse in the next centuries– what?”

He stops, self-consciously wiping his mouth with a napkin, because Brainy is staring at him strangely. To be fair, everything about all of this is strange. But he caught him doing that before; sometimes at work, Winn will turn to say something, only to find Brainy already looking back. It’s odd and offputting, and honestly? A lot easier to just chalk it up to another one of his quirks and call it a day. That’s probably the explanation anyway. Now, though, Brainy shrugs, “nothing. Do you always feel this passionate about fruits?” A pause. “Did you say another banana apocalypse?”

“Dude,” Winn breathes, sitting up properly because it’s not every day you get to school Brainy about something. “It’s so much less exciting than it sounds, but here’s the thing– “

*

It’s a little after ten o’clock when he walks Brainy to the door, awkwardly stopping in the doorway. He scratches the back of his neck, “so. I guess it wasn’t all that bad, after all.”

“I suppose it was not unpleasant,” Brainy allows, his lips twitching, “although, I do have a request– next time, may I bring the movie?”

“Sure,” Winn says easily, then stops. He narrows his eyes, “am I going to regret agreeing to this?”

Now, Brainy grins openly, startlingly amused, “well, you’ll just have to wait and see. Good night, Winn. And thank you.”

It’s something in the way he says it that Winn wonders what exactly he’s being thanked for, too warm, too grateful to pass as simply politeness. Still, unwilling to overthink it, he shrugs awkwardly, “no problem, man. See you tomorrow.”

Brainy nods, slipping out the door.

Winn stays there, staring at the end of the hall for another long moment before going back inside.

#brainy #querl dox #brainiac 5 #winn schott #winndox #supergirl fic #when in rome #fake dating au #god i cant believe i rewrote the whole chapter #clearly i hate myself #still feel kinda meh about this one #but oh well #now i shall go back to the asks

[pink1031]

Just One of the Guys

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings: Language, Smut, little angst, little fluff

Word Count: 4949

A/N: Gifs are not mine (they were found on Google), Please feel free to leave feedback and reblog if you like.

Summary: You have a crush on Dean and you are tired of him treating you like one of the guys. 

This hunt had been trying, long, exhausting and now as it turns out, messy.  Sam and Dean slid into the front seat of the Impala as you climbed into the back.  The three of you sighed at almost the exact same time.  

“Fucking witches.” Dean grumbled as he started up the car.   “Agreed. I need a drink and shower.” You winced as you looked at the blood streaked down your clothes and hands. “I call dibs on the shower.” Sam spoke up and you couldn’t really blame him. He had gotten the worst of it tonight.  The three of you had busted into the coven while they were holding a séance.  The witches had been powerful. One witch tried to put the whammy on Sam but luckily he had been in arm’s length of one of her sister witches and had pulled her close to take the force of the witch’s spell. The woman’s chest had literally exploded all over Sam, only part of her had splattered over to you and Dean. Dean turned up the radio as he pulled out and headed down the road back to the motel. You grumbled under your breath in the backseat.  ‘God Dean, don’t you have any other tapes to listen to?  I swear if we have to listen to Zeppelin one more freakin’ time this trip I am going to scream.” When Dean ignored you you leaned over the front seat far enough to turn the radio off. “Hey,”Dean snarled and smacked at your hand.  “Hands off my radio. You know the rules.” “Yeah yeah, driver picks the music blah blah blah.” You glared back at him before sliding back to sit still leaning against the back of the front seat “Only problem with that rule is you never let anyone else drive.” “Exactly.” Dean smirked at you. “You just wait Winchester, as soon as you aren’t looking I am going to burn every one of your tapes, all five of them.” You grinned and nudged his shoulder. Sam laughed at the both of you as Dean continued to argue. “Oh, you touch any of my tapes and you will find your ass in a world of hurt darlin’.” “News flash Dean, my ass is already hurting because you dropped me tonight.” “Aw hell this again?” Dean growled. “I didn’t mean to drop you, maybe if you didn’t wear all that girly lotion you wouldn’t be so slippery or hell maybe you could learn to jump down from a freakin’ wall without help.” “The wall was like seven feet tall.” You scoffed. “I’m only five four.” “I kind of like the lotion.” Sam interrupted. “It always smells good.” Dean looked at Sam like he had grown a second head. “Why the hell does Y/n need to smell good on a hunt?  It’s not like the monsters give a shit what she smells like. We don’t put on cologne to go stake some vamps.” “But she is a girl.” Sam raised his eyebrows as he looked at his brother. Dean scoffed and shook his head. “Not really, not like a girl, girl.  She is a hunter, you know like one of the guys.” Sam caught the look on your face before you suddenly sat back against the back seat and crossed your arms over your chest.  You hated when Dean made comments like that.  It didn’t bother you in the beginning when you first began hunting regularly with the boys, it was kind of cool that they treated you just like one of the guys, but after six months it was getting old, especially since you had started having feelings for Dean.   Sam knew how you felt about Dean and he also knew how little comments like that from Dean made you feel.  You and Sam had spent many nights discussing the issue along with everything else in life.  Sam had grown to be your best friend.   Sam looked back at you with a sad smile and shrugged his shoulders.  Sam could give you advice about anything except when it came to his brother.  He had made it clear that he wasn’t getting involved in that situation but he was always there to listen to you when you needed to talk about it.   You sat in silence for the rest of the ride back to the motel.  You were coming down from the adrenaline rush of the hunt and now with Dean’s words you were starting to feel a little depressed until suddenly a very interesting idea popped into your head.  A slow grin started to curl your pouty lips as you began to form a plan. Ten minutes later you were pulling into the parking lot of the motel and the three of you exited the car.  Sam immediately headed for the shower and Dean headed for the mini fridge, where he grabbed two beers.  He tossed yours to you from across the room and you caught it easily.  Dean popped the top on his beer as he sat down on the foot of one bed.  You sat in the chair opposite him as you opened your own bottle.   “It’s still early, “Dean looked at you over the rim of his bottle, “you want to go hit up a bar after we get cleaned up?” You took a pull off your beer and nodded. “Yeah, sounds good. I could use something stronger than this beer.” Dean nodded in agreement. It wasn’t long before Sam was out of the shower and Dean called the bathroom next.  He looked at you in surprise when you didn’t argue with him but you only shrugged.   “Just save me some hot water, jerk.” You called after him as he stepped through the bathroom door. “No promises,” he chuckled, “bitch.” You rolled your eyes at his automatic response to being called jerk.   Sam sat down on the foot of the bed and peered across the room at you. “You okay Y/n?” he smiled softly. “Yeah I am okay, I guess.” You shrugged. “I know he gets you down. Sometimes he just doesn’t think before he opens his mouth.” Sam frowned, “Not just sometimes Sammy, most of the time.” You laughed.   “True.  I wish there was something I could do.  I don’t like it when you are upset.” You smiled at the younger brother; he was always such a sweetheart.  “I was thinking Sammy, and you could do something for me.” “Sure, name it.” You grinned then and filled Sam in on the idea that had popped in your head while you were in the car. Sam was chuckling and shaking his head by the time you finished. “Well, this should be fun to watch.” He laughed. “So, you’ll do it?” you asked looking at him hopefully. “Of course I will.” He winked at you. Dean was out of the shower shortly.  “Next,” he looked to you. “and hurry up I want to go out.” “So go” you scoffed at him, “You don’t have to wait on me, there is only one damn bar in this little town I think I can get there on my own.” Dean huffed at you. “Seriously Dean, you and Sammy go on ahead.” You half smiled at him. “I’m not sure I am feeling up to it now anyway.” “Aw, c’mon.” Dean looked your way but you were already closing the bathroom door.   “Just come on Dean, maybe she will catch up with us later.” Sam nudged his brother out the door. You heard the motel room door before you cracked the bathroom door and peaked out.  Both the boys were gone and you were alone.  You waited until you heard the Impala pull out before you stepped out of the bathroom and grabbed your duffel bag.  You headed back to the bathroom and took your shower.   Almost an hour had passed since the boys had left you alone and you began to put your plan into action.  You stared at yourself one last time in the mirror. You laughed softly at the reflection staring back at you.  Wow, you hadn’t seen this girl in a long time you thought to yourself.  You gently pushed back a soft curl that hung around your face and checked your eyeliner and lipstick one last time.  You had almost forgotten what you looked like all dolled up.  “Just one of the guys my ass.” You laughed to yourself before turning and heading out the door.   You found the bar easily; it was only a few blocks down from the motel.  You walked in scanning the room looking for Sam and Dean.  You saw Sam first.  They were sitting at a high top table near the bar and you were pleased to see Dean was sitting with his back to you.  Sam saw you from across the room and you watched as his eyes grew wide as you walked in their general direction.  You quickly put your finger up to your lips signaling Sam not to say anything about your presence. He gave you a knowing grin and mouthed the word “Wow” to you.  You grinned brightly and gave him a wink.  Instead of walking to their table Sam watched you as you headed to the bar.  Sam didn’t mean to, but he was staring at you as you stood with your back to them.  You leaned against the bar top as you waited patiently on the bartender.  Dean watched his brother’s gaze and looked to see what Sam was intently staring at.  Dean whistled as he saw the girl leaning against the bar.  His eyes drifted from her long wavy locks down her spine to the little peek of flesh that was showing over the top of her skin tight jeans, all the way down to her knee high black boots.   “I call dibs Sammy.” Dean grinned and wiggled his eyebrows as he nodded towards the bar. Sam just sighed and shook his head at his Neanderthal brother. “Whatever man.” Dean quickly hopped up from his seat and sauntered over to the bar leaning in close against you.  His voice was deep and gravelly as he threw out his line. “Well hello beautiful.” He was standing so close you could almost feel his breath on you. You grinned as you slowly turned to look into the smirking face. “Hey Dean.”

Dean could only stare at you. His mouth opened to speak but he couldn’t find the words. His smiled had faded and he truly looked dumbfounded. His eyes moved over your face and down your body then back up only to move back down again and then up one more time. “Problem?” you asked trying hard not to laugh. He tilted his head, his mouth opening and closing again and then finally all he could say was “Y/n?” “Yes?” You smiled brightly. Your plan was working exactly how you had hoped. Dean was still staring as the bartender came and sat three shots in front of you. You handed one to the still dumbfounded Dean before taking the other two and walking towards Sam.  Dean watched you intently as you walked away, He couldn’t help but let his eyes drift down to your ass, watching the sway in your hips as you moved. He downed his shot and slammed the glass back on the bar motioning to the bartender for another and also ordering three beers. Sam was laughing as you handed him his shot and pulled out a chair at the table. “I think that went well.” You grinned at Sam. “Yeah.” He laughed as he threw back his shot. “He still staring?” you asked, not wanting to look Dean’s way. Sam laughed as he looked over at his brother. “Oh yeah. You got his attention.” “Good, I think I made my point.” Sam smiled at you warmly. “You really do look beautiful, not that you aren’t pretty all the time but, wow.” “Awe, thank you Sammy.” You smiled back. Dean finally made his way back over to the table, setting a beer down in front of you and Sam. Dean was still staring but he hadn’t said another word.  You were starting to feel uncomfortable with the silence and the staring. This was supposed to be fun, but you couldn’t tease Dean if he wasn’t speaking.   “Sam,” You smiled “dance with me?” Sam smiled back but shook his head. “Oh no, I don’t dance.” “Come on Sammy. I want to dance.” “Not going to happen.” He chuckled. “I’m not that drunk yet.” You felt Dean slip his hand over yours and you looked over at him questioningly.  “Come on, I’ll dance with you.”  He didn’t wait for your answer before pulling you out on the dance floor.  The song was slow and Dean slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you in close to him.  You felt your breath catch in your throat as he held you tight.  He slowly started swaying and you moved with him looking up into his bright green eyes.  Your soft hand rested on his muscled shoulder while he still held your other hand in his against his chest.   “You have been holding out on me darlin’” he grinned.  “Who would have thought all this was hidden under some baggy flannel.” You laughed softly. “Well this isn’t very practical for hunting.” You nodded down your body to your tight outfit. “I don’t even have anywhere to put a gun.” “So you aren’t packing tonight huh?” he smirked. “Oh I still have a couple of knives in my boots of course, I’m not crazy.” you laughed. He smiled down at you as you both swayed to the music.  You felt his thumb drawing small circles on the bared skin that peaked beneath your shirt at the small of your back and it made you shiver.  He held you close and you breathed in the scent of him.  He smelled delicious like whiskey, leather, and a hint of his body wash.  You noticed he was staring at you again and you laughed nervously. “You keep staring at me Dean.” You raised an eyebrow. “Sorry,” he smirked. “I just, I’ve never seen you look like this.” “Is it really that different?” You frowned then.  “I mean, it’s still just me Dean.” Dean didn’t answer your question as he spoke “So, what brought all this on?” You bit your bottom lip as you peered up at him.  You shrugged your shoulders and sighed softly, You had never lied to Dean and you didn’t want to start now.  “I did it for you.” “Oh?” Dean asked and his lips curled into that sexy smirk that drove you crazy and sometimes pissed you off.  He lowered his head so he could whisper in your ear. “So how about we get out of here then, go somewhere private?” Butterflies filled your stomach.  You had waited so long for a moment like this but suddenly you were angry too.  To his surprise you pulled away from him.  The anger showing on your face. “Seriously Dean, are you that damn superficial that a little bit of makeup and some tight pants makes you suddenly want to fuck me?” Dean stood with his mouth open as he watched you storm off.  Sam called to you as you bolted passed the table but you didn’t stop.  You were half way through the parking lot when you heard heavy boots jogging up behind you.  Dean grabbed your arm and whipped you around to face him. “What the hell is your problem Y/n?” He snarled at you. “You are my fucking problem Dean!” You poked him hard in the chest as you jerked your arm out of his grip. You turned to walk away again but once more he grabbed you so you couldn’t. “Tell me what the hell is going on, “Dean growled, “because I am fucking confused here.” You just stared at him as the anger boiled inside of you. “I don’t get you, you said you did all this for me” he gestured from your face down your body. “and then when I appreciate it you get pissed.” he continued. “I did it to prove a point.” you scowled at him. “And what is that?” “I’m not one of the fucking guys.  I’m actually a woman.” You huffed. “a woman who has been trying to get your damn attention for over a month.  But no, you…you” You growled as you tried to find the right words. “You would rather go off and fuck some townie who looks like a painted whore and doesn’t give two shits about you than to be with someone like me who is always there for you and always has your fucking back just because I don‘t look all girly all the time.” Dean stood and stared at you, his nostrils flaring as those green eyes bored into you. He moved toward you and your reflex was to back up.  He kept backing you until you felt the Impala behind you.  Dean’s voice was low and gravelly when he finally spoke. “Do you honestly think I don’t know you are a woman Y/n?” You stared back into his eyes not flinching one bit as he continued. “You don’t have a clue do you?  Do you know why I always treat you like one of the guys?” You shook your head. “No, I don’t, so why don’t you give me a clue.” You clenched your teeth. “Because,” Dean closed his eyes and sighed, “because if I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to spend every damn day with you and every damn night with you without…without falling for you and doing something we might both end up regretting .” Now it was your turn to stand there dumbfounded.  Your mouth opened to speak but you didn’t know what to say.  Dean’s jaw clenched and he looked away for a moment before finally turning back to you.  “I am so aware that you are a woman. I am aware every time I look at you, every time I am close to you, every time you smile, every time you hug me, every time I hear you laugh.” He moved closer to you. He was so close you could feel the heat of his body, his chest inches from yours.  His hands moved to rest on the roof of the Impala on either side of your shoulders.  His voice was soft and low as he held your gaze. “So I told myself if I just treated you like one of the boys then maybe those feelings would go away but trust me Y/n, every part of me knows you are a woman and some days it is all I can do not to show you that.”   Your breath caught in your throat. You grabbed the front of Dean’s jacket without another thought and pulled him to you. Your lips crushed against his and he moaned softly as he kissed you back. Your lips parted eagerly for him, sucking his tongue into your mouth.   His kiss was hard and hungry.  His hands moved to grip your hips pinning you against the car as he pressed his body to yours. His muscled thigh moved between your legs and brought a whimper from your lips. Dean’s large hands moved from your hips to slide down to cup your ass. His fingers dug into your soft cheeks as he pulled your hips harder to his with a grunt. Your hips moved on their own rocking and grinding to his thigh.  You moaned into his mouth as you felt the hard outline of his cock pressing against your hip.  You broke the kiss to catch your breath. Dean’s mouth moved, kissing down your jaw line to your neck.  His teeth scraping along your flesh making you squirm harder against him. “Dean.” you gasped as your hands moved over his broad chest to tunnel in the back of his hair as he sucked and licked at the soft flesh in the curve of your neck.   Dean moaned against your neck as you whimpered his name. His hands moved up from you hips to slip under the hem of your shirt. Rough fingers drug along your skin causing you to shiver. Your hands were tugging at his flannel button up wanting to shed his layers. Dean’s hands quickly gripped your wrists to stop you as his green eyes met yours. “Wait sweetheart,” he chuckled, “Can’t really get naked in the middle of the parking lot.” You grinned sheepishly up at him and he quickly moved you so he could open the back door of the Impala.  He gave a quick look around the parking lot before tugging you into the back seat with him.  From there it was a rush of hands and lips. Kissing, tugging at clothing, grunts as you both shifted in the tight space until you found yourself on your back under Dean. Your shirt was gone, thrown to the floor along with his. Dean was tugging your boots off as he stared down at you with lust filled eyes. He threw your boots unceremoniously to the front seat before his hands made their way to the button and zipper on your jeans.  Your hands moved over his muscled chest, loving the feel of finally being able to touch his skin.  You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled his mouth back to yours. You could never get enough of those lips of his.  You could drown in those kisses.  You moaned into his mouth as you felt his hands tug the tight denim over your hips and down your thighs.  He had to break the kiss to pull your jeans off your legs.   “Bra off.’ Dean grunted as he fumbled with the belt around his waist.  You quickly obeyed and freed your firm breasts, your nipples growing taut as the cool air washed over them.  Dean popped open the button and tugged the zipper down on his jeans before his gaze moved back over your body and he moaned in appreciation.  “God you’re beautiful darlin’.” Dean leaned back over you, his lips pressing hard to yours and you sucked at his full bottom lip before biting gently. His calloused hands moved to cup your breasts, squeezing and kneading the flesh making you squirm under him.  Your hips rose to meet his as the need consumed you.  His thumbs teased along your hard nipples making your back arch. Dean’s lips left yours to kiss and lick a long wet line against your neck. You tilted your head to offer up more of your body to him.  His teeth grazed against your racing pulse before biting and sucking the flesh into his mouth.  Dean marked your skin as he moved down, leaving purple bruise in his wake until his mouth found the hard pebble that was your nipple.  You ground your hips against his body as every touch fanned the flames of your arousal. “Please Dean.” You whimpered as your fingers tunneled through his hair. Dean looked up at you his moss green eyes blown with lust as he lifted his head from your breast. The sexy smirk curled his lush lips. “Not interested in foreplay tonight sweetheart?” His tongue slipped between his pink lips to lick at your hard nipple, his eyes never leaving yours. You groaned softly as he teased you. “Not this time Winchester.” You grinned. “I need you inside of me, now Dean, please.” You moaned, tugging your bottom lip between your ivory teeth.   Dean growled at your words, quickly rising up on his knees.  His strong hands gripped your thighs. He pulled your spread legs from around him and pushed them together bringing your knees towards your chest so he could make quick work of tugging your damp panties from your body.  Once the soft wet lace was gone you wrapped your legs back around his waist.  Dean tugged at his jeans and boxers pulling them down just below his firm ass.  You couldn’t help but stare as his hard thick cock sprung free and just the sight brought a new wave of wetness to your core. Dean eased himself down between your creamy thighs as he lips found their way to yours.  You gasped against him as you felt those rough fingers slipping between your slick folds. “Fuck, you’re so wet darlin’.” Dean moaned. “Is this all for me babygirl?” “Uh, yes Dean.” You moaned sucking his bottom lip and gently nipping before whimpering again “please Dean, I need you.” Dean pulled back just enough so he could look down the length of your body as he lined his stiff cock at your tight wet entrance. He couldn’t tear his gaze away as he slowly began to sink into your body one inch at a time. Your head rolled back as a deep moan filled your throat. “Oh God Dean.” You cried out softly as he filled you so full.  Your hands moved to clutch at his muscled arms as he stretched you open. Dean’s eyes were closed as his head raised up once he was buried fully inside of your clutching pussy.  His body trembled as he held himself still to give you time to adjust. He released a shuddered breath as he felt your slick velvet walls clench around his length. “Damn baby girl,” he opened his eyes to look down at you.  “you are so tight, so perfect.” he moaned as he slowly began to rock his hips.  

You moaned as he began to move but it wasn’t enough you needed more, needed him to move faster and harder. “Fuck me Dean please, harder, faster.” you whimpered. He gripped your thigh and pulled it higher on his hip as he nodded at your pleas. Your hands roamed his body, caressing his chest, sliding up and down his sides, slipping around him to stroke the taut muscles of his back. You whimpered cries of pleasure echoed his moans and grunts as his hips began to snap forward faster and harder.     “Uh yes, yes, yes.” You moaned as his flesh slapped against yours. Your hips rose up to meet each hard thrust.  Soft curses fell from his lips as you both moved together like you had done this a hundred times before.  Dean held himself up with one hand by your head as his other hand held onto your waist. He drove his hard length into your dripping heat relentlessly.  You clawed at his back and shoulders as you felt the pleasure building and building like a tight coil low in your body.   “Dean.” you moaned and panted, calling his name out again and again. “Jesus baby girl. “ Dean grunted.  “Cum for me sweetheart.  I want to feel you cum all over my cock.” “Fuck yes Dean.” Your hips rocked harder to meet each of his deep thrusts. His thick shaft stroking every sweet inch of your pussy. ’I’m so close.” you almost purred.   Dean snapped his hips harder at your words, desperately chasing the pleasure he wanted you both to share. “Fuck Y/n” Dean grunted once more and you knew he was going to cum. Just the thought of him filling you with sticky seed was enough to push you over the edge and you cried out as the coil snapped and the pleasure consumed you. Your vision darkened as your head snapped back and you screamed his name.  The heated walls of your cunt clenching down around his throbbing shaft along the heated rush of your slick drowning his cock was what he needed to trigger his own release and you both came together. Dean’s hips faltered as you both rode out the crashing waves of ecstasy until finally he stilled above you.   Dean’s body collapsed against your own and you wrapped your arms tight around him as he buried his face into the curve of your neck.  You both lay there catching your breath. You could feel his heart racing and you knew it matched your own.  You fingers danced softly over his sweat covered skin as you gently kissed his temple. Dean moaned softly bringing a smile to your lips. He slowly lifted his head and kissed you tenderly before brushing loose strands of your hair from around your face. “That was”  Dean grinned. “Amazing.” you interrupted him with a giggle. “Mmm, definitely sweetheart.” Dean kissed you again tenderly. “We should have done that a long time ago.” “Well we could have if you weren’t so stubborn.” You smirked and Dean chuckled. “But next time Dean?” Dean raised his eyebrows as he pushed himself off of your soft frame and kneeled between your legs so he could tuck himself back into his jeans. “I’d like to make it to an actual bed.” you winked at him. “Hey, it is not my fault you were trying to undress me in the parking lot.” Dean chuckled as he helped you into a sitting position and you both started for searching for your disgarded clothes.   “It is so your fault, you were the one who started it in the middle of the parking lot when you pushed me up against the car.” You grinned and poked his ribs. “Hey what did you expect me to do when you were looking at me those eyes, just begging for me to kiss you.” Hips lips turned up into his signature smirk.   “I was not.” you huffed playfully. “I” “Let’s not argue about good sex, darlin’” Dean cut you off chuckling as his hand came up to gently stroke your cheek before pressing his lips to yours once more.  

#dean winchester #dean x reader #impala sex #dean winchester gif

[ohlawsons]

the art of impulse control

SUMMARY. Sloane lies dead at her feet and Reyes stands vulnerable before her. Sophie knows what the right choice is, here, the logical choice, the choice she should make -- but she’s always been a little too selfish and a little too impulsive; and besides, isn’t making up the whole point of fighting? NOTES.  cave fic ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ LINKS. [ AO3 ] [ FFN ] [ sophie’s tag ]

If Sophie had known that the Charlatan’s meeting was intended to end with Sloane’s death, she might have tried to convince Sloane to stay in Kadara Port.  Or maybe she would have stayed. Or tried to change the Collective’s plans. Or, at the very least, she would’ve warned Sloane.

Either way, Kadara’s self-declared criminal kingpin likely wouldn’t be lying dead at Sophie’s feet.

She didn’t like Sloane. At all. She loathed the bullshit way she ran Kadara, and had held a personal grudge against Sloane ever since she’d first met the leader of the Outcasts and found a gun in her face. But despite her — rather strong — opinions on the woman, murder still didn’t sit right with Sophie, and if she’d known ahead of time there would’ve been too much time to think about it. Reyes would be dead, then, she reckoned, and that thought didn’t sit right with her either.

But she hadn’t had any idea what she was walking into with Sloane, and in the breath between SAM’s warning and the crack of the sniper rifle all Sophie had been able to see was Reyes, face set into hard lines as he stared down Sloane. She could taste the ghost of him on her lips, all warmth and want and whiskey, could feel the memory of his hands on her waist and her back and her thighs — never quite fast enough, never quite rough enough; she was too damn impatient — could hear the echo of his voice as he said her name, said all those  lovely things, made promises she only half expected him to keep. He had completely unraveled her, and Sophie kept her eyes trained on his and it was only in her peripheral that she saw Sloane crumple to the ground.

“Bang.”

“You asshole.” Her brief lapse into memory broken by Reyes’ voice, Sophie marched across to the other side of the cave, careful to make a wide circle around Sloane. She gave Reyes a half-hearted shove — more to make a point, than anything — and it was just enough to make him take a step backwards in surprise. Unable to properly word the rest of her frustrations, Sophie settled for gesturing at Sloane’s body and glaring at Reyes. “You fucker. You—” She cut off with a loud groan, and shoved Reyes again; this time, it didn’t even seem to faze him.

From the entrance of the cave, Vetra let out a long, drawn out sigh. “I’ll let the two of you work this out,” she announced flatly, turning and leaving without even waiting for a response.

“Sophie—”

“How long?” she interrupted, planting her hands on her hips and doing her best to smooth out her expression. Sophie’s mind was whirling, now, as the implications of Reyes’ charade slowly began to sink in; if he’d truly been the Charlatan the entire time, that meant he’d stood by and watched as Sophie had floundered her way through Kadara Port, making enemies with the Outcasts for no other reason than they’d wounded her pride and she had a penchant for raising hell where it maybe shouldn’t be raised. “I mean, did you look at me and think, Gee, a Pathfinder to help me take over an entire fucking city! Because, honestly,” she said with a shrug, the fire in her voice waning ever so slightly, “that’s some pretty clutch planning and the whole ambition thing is kinda hot — but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m pissed off.”

Seriously. Sophie had nearly shot Sloane the first time they’d met — in hindsight, maybe she should have, and saved them all this trouble.

Reyes’ hesitation seemed to lessen somewhat, but he still didn’t quite meet Sophie’s eyes when he spoke. “I thought you could be an ally against Sloane, yes,” he admitted, “but that wasn’t all I saw in you.”

Right. He liked her body. And he knew she couldn’t resist having her ego stroked — damn him, but she was finding herself holding back a grin. “Power and sex. I’m flattered.” There was still an edge to the words, and Sophie could hear her own distaste as she spoke; it was difficult for her to pinpoint exactly what about the entire situation bothered her, given that the revelation that Reyes was the Charlatan was more amusing to her than it was frustrating, and she could easily hand-wave away her guilt over Sloane’s death with some excuse about the greater good.

No, it was the lack of communication on Reyes’ part that was grating on her nerves.

Sophie hadn’t made a secret of her feelings on Sloane, or hidden her interest in helping the Collective — she’d found one of their tucked away bases, for Christ’s sake, and had helped their efforts — so the fact that Reyes hadn’t thought to reach out to her first was mildly insulting.

“Did you not trust my abilities? Or my conviction? Or just me in general?”

Reyes’ lips pressed together in a thin frown. “I trust you,” he assured her, the unexpected sincerity in his tone causing the words to hang heavy in the air between them. There had been a sort of severity to him since he’d revealed himself, his features all hard lines and shadows, but it faded as he took a step towards Sophie — still a breath away, not touching but close enough that she was certain he could feel the heat of her emotion as it radiated from her — and his expression was replaced with a softness that was so open and vulnerable that it caught her off-guard. “I trust you,” Reyes repeated. “I couldn’t— I didn’t know that Sloane would reach out to you.”

She scoffed, throwing up her hands. “Yes, let’s leave Sophie out of it, and we can shoot each other in peace.” Was this how Scott felt, she wondered, having to constantly worry about a sister who regularly made ridiculous and short-sighted decisions?

A few dozen apologies were in order once he woke.

“I had things covered,” Reyes pointed out, giving a glance towards the ledge the sniper had been perched on until a few minutes ago. “And like I said, my goal was to avoid unnecessary deaths in Kadara. I want the same thing you do — stability, and perhaps to re-establish contact with the Nexus — and Sloane would’ve run the Port into the ground with the way things were going.”

“Reyes.” Sophie cleared her throat, opting for her best logical argument voice — level, deadpan, and just a tad bit unimpressed. She was inclined to believe him, at this point, about his motives and why he’d contacted Sloane, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still miffed at being left out of planning the entire ordeal. “When have you known me to be a real deep thinker about anything? All you would’ve had to say is, Sophie, we’re taking out Sloane tonight — you in?” She pursed her lips, one eyebrow quirking upwards. “Do you really think I wouldn’t have shown up, no questions asked, just to kick some ass?”

“You’re hotheaded and reckless, yes,” Reyes conceded, amusement beginning to shine in his eyes, “but not a murderer. I was trying to leave you out of this.”

“But you knew,” she groaned, feeling her shoulders begin to slump. “You knew I how I felt about Sloane. If you would’ve just told me, I could’ve… Well, you’re right, I wouldn’t have killed her,” she reasoned, “but I could’ve helped. Done something. I’ve been wanting to get her out of Kadara Port since I got here. You know that,” Sophie repeated, a pleading edge beginning to creep into her voice. She didn’t know what good it would do, now, after everything was already said and done, but she was hoping that Reyes could figure out whatever it was that she needed to hear.

“Of course I knew.” With a sad sort of smile, Reyes reached up to cup her face, one thumb trailing lightly across her skin. The amusement was gone, once again replaced by sincerity. “You’ve always been rather up front with your opinions of Sloane. How was I supposed to know that you wouldn’t feel the same about me? That you wouldn’t just be trading one criminal for another?”

Vaguely aware that she had been leaning into his touch, Sophie let her gaze drift down to Reyes’ jacket, where her fingers were toying with the edge of the fabric. “You’re you,” she started, forcing herself to look back up at him. “You didn’t pull a gun on me the first time we met. I mean, you did make me pay for both of our drinks, but I think you made up for it when you took me to a fancy party just so we could steal some of Sloane’s whiskey.” She frowned, letting her hands drop lamely to her sides; she wasn’t any good at actually voicing things like this, and damn but it would’ve been easier if she’d have shut him up with a kiss like in the vids. “I mean, I’m not sleeping with Sloane, so I apologize if I’m a bit biased.”

He gave a quiet laugh, but otherwise seemed to ignore her flippant remark. “I was worried that…” He trailed off, eyes still searching Sophie’s face, and began again. “When you look at people, you see the best in them, whether they deserve it or not. Like with your crew, or the angara. Or me. I… liked that, the way you look at me,” he admitted, almost sheepishly, before taking a steadying breath. “I may have hidden that I was the Charlatan, but I haven’t lied — about anything.”

“This doesn’t really change a damn thing,” Sophie agreed, breaking into a grin despite herself and hoping she didn’t look quite as elated at his words as she felt. It was selfish, she knew, to be so satisfied that things between them could continue uninterrupted; she should be questioning him, should be critical of everything they’d been through. “And once again, you’re right. Your mouth is definitely your best feature, and it’s absolutely the only reason I still put up with you.”

Not a lie, technically, but so far from the full truth.

The kissing was good, yes, and the sex was better, but there was so much more that kept drawing her to Kadara. She had fun when she was with Reyes, and in turn he was more than capable of keeping pace with her — whether it was in combat or flirting or just swapping stories — without the typical accusations she’d learned to shrug off. Slow down, people always told her, stop and smell the roses, let’s wait a minute and talk about this. And that wasn’t even accounting for the scoundrel-with-a-heart-of-gold cliche he so often fell into — like now, talking about peace after arranging a murder, or envisioning a bright and thriving future for a city full of criminals. His methods should give her pause, perhaps, but that would mean questioning one of the best things to  happen to her since arriving in Andromeda.

And really, Sophie was a woman of simple needs, and Reyes filled most of them. Besides, there was something enticing about being with the self-proclaimed king of a criminal haven.

Her answer — or perhaps her grin, or the noticeable lift in her mood — sparked something within Reyes, and a slow smirk broke through his solemn expression.  “You have terrible taste in men.”

“You said it, not me,” she pointed out; Reyes began to say something else, but this time Sophie did cut him off with a kiss. Her grip on his jacket tightened, pulling him down until their lips met — the kiss all tongue and heat and urgency — and she was being forced backwards, moving until she was flush between Reyes and the cave wall.

There was too much armor between them, too much stress in her limbs, too many reminders of the confrontation they’d just faced. But Sophie wasn’t thinking about that — wasn’t thinking much at all — as they parted and Reyes’ lips moved along her jaw and down to her neck, his hands at her waist and hips as her own hands tangled in his hair. Teeth ran slow along her skin, and Sophie’s breath hitched. Too much armor. “This is a good start,” she forced out, breathless, “to convincing me I made the right choice.”

He laughed, low and breathy in her ear. “And it’s certainly only the start.”

It was a promise that made a shiver run down her spine, in both anticipation and desire, but Sophie forced herself to pull back just enough to look up at Reyes, one eyebrow quirking upwards. “Reyes Vidal,” she began, managing to keep her voice mostly even, “you better not be planning sex in a cave, because I have standards. I know they’re pretty low, but still — it’s a cave.”

“Mm. So a back room in a bar is fair game,” he pointed out, not bothering to hide his disappointment though his grip on her loosened, “and so is a storage room, but not this?” His voice was filled with amusement, teasing rather than pressing, and with some small amount of effort he untangled himself from her. After a moment the levity vanished, and when Reyes spoke again his worry had returned. “Is it the location, or something else?”

The question caught Sophie by surprise, and she had to take a moment to collect her thoughts. As much as their surroundings were definitely killing the mood, Reyes was right — it wasn’t the only thing making her uncomfortable. “It’s… both. We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?” She didn’t think she had a problem with Reyes being the Charlatan — it was the sort of revelation that would take a while to digest, she reckoned — but she did want the chance to clear the air between them.

Whatever this was, and whatever they were, would have to be figured out. Which, of course, meant talking about it and thinking over it and just generally dealing with the situation — none of which was typically high on Sophie’s to do list. But if Reyes was as sincere about it — them — as he seemed, then Sophie supposed she could put in some effort, too.

Just not the sort of effort that required taking off her pants in a cave. Especially not with Vetra so close.

“So, maybe, we put this on hold, and I go back to Kadara and get a little drunk, and we’ll deal with everything tomorrow?”

Reyes didn’t answer right away, studying Sophie carefully — she almost teased him about the little worry-lines creasing his forehead, but decided against it; his concern was as touching as it was unexpected — and pressed a light, perfectly chaste kiss to her lips. “Anything,” he assured her. “Whatever you need.”

“Technically,” she drawled in an attempt to lighten the mood, “I don’t need any of that. It’s just, I have this thing with Liam. We’re working on impulse control. This seems like the kind of situation where it applies.” As a sort of experiment, Sophie slid one of her hands into Reyes’ and began leading him back out towards where Vetra and the Nomad waited; it felt good, even despite her gloves, and she added it to the mental list of things to contemplate.

Which, she wanted to do — contemplate. Think. She wanted to be certain of where she and Reyes were headed — individually, or together, or whatever — and she knew that if she gave in and led him straight back to the Tempest like she wanted to, that’s where they would be headed.

A distraction that would keep pulling her back to Kadara.

Maybe she wanted something different. Something in addition to all the sex. Reyes seemed to, and Sophie couldn’t deny that the idea certainly intrigued her, even given the mess they’d just been through.

But that was a question for the next day, and Sophie had more pressing matters to attend to at the moment — like Vetra, seated atop the Nomad, beer in hand. She had the right idea; Sophie pulled herself up to sit beside her, sliding to the side to make room for Reyes and patting the now-empty spot beside her. “Need a ride back?” she asked, the question more a roundabout way of asking him to stick around for a few more minutes. “ We’ve got a third seat.”

“I suppose I could, assuming you’re not planning to make any other stops. I do have a city to run, now.”

She inched away as Reyes began to slip an arm around her waist, holding up a hand to say hold on and sliding backwards, turning and stretching across the Nomad to reach the interior, hoisting up a small cooler from where the rover’s fourth seat had originally been. “Refreshments,” she explained, leaving the cooler within reach and pulling out two of the remaining five bottles. She handed a beer to Reyes, clinking their bottles together in some semblance of a toast before reaching over to pull Vetra’s from her grasp. Ignoring the turian’s unimpressed sigh, Sophie held up the drink. “Blue label is levo, orange label is dextro. You owe me big time,” she informed him, handing Vetra her drink back, “because it’s hell trying to get the Nexus to pay for our contraband booze.”

Reyes took a sip, then studied the bottle for a moment, looking impressed. “You got the Initiative to pay for this?”

“Emergency field rations on our requisition order,” Vetra said. “Ryder just thinks it’s hard because she’s about as subtle as a brick. You can’t just tell people you’re turning a high-dollar exploratory vehicle into a party rover.”

“That’s why I keep you around, Vetra,” Sophie pointed out, leaning back into Reyes. “Like how you convinced Tann to pay the tab that me and Liam ran up on Aya.”

“Diplomatic outreach. Which doesn’t work as well the second time.”

“Luckily, continued investigations still works as an excuse to come to Kadara.” She flashed Reyes a crooked grin. “Don’t let things settle down too much, or I’ll have to come up with some other bullshit reason.”

“Which means I’ll have to come up with another bullshit reason,” Vetra interjected. “I already don’t like you, Vidal. Try not to make it worse.”

“Good thing you aren’t the one I’m trying to impress.” The statement was directed at Vetra, but Reyes spoke to Sophie, the words low and breathy and punctuated with a kiss at her jawline.

Vetra sighed again and took a long drink. “Keep that up, and the two of you can walk back to town.”

#reyes vidal #reyder #rydal #which tag is even being used?? #otp: steal the stars #sophie ryder #brooke writes things #fic: sophie #andromeda spoilers //

[allroundlostcause]

What will realistically sober a character up faster?

Shortanswer: time.

Longanswer: no, seriously, time. Ultimately, sobriety is determined by your liver breakingdown the alcohol that is in your bloodstream. Your character’s liver, undernormal conditions, can break down about 10 grams of pure alcohol per hour. Alittle more for men and bigger people, a little less for women and smallerpeople.*

Wow you can already tell I am gonna say too much, right? Let’s have a read more break.

(*yes, that is calculated separately, orwould be if you could calculate it with any degree of perfection. Unlessemaciated, women have a naturally higher proportion of body fat and fat likesholding onto alcohol. I like to think of it as chocolate and red wine beingdeeply in love. BUT there are exceptions!! For lots of reasons. It’s for thisreason that you should always be conservative while trying to calculate yourblood alcohol, regardless of body shape and weight.

For example, I have an app which allows meto enter my drinks and guesstimate my blood alcohol concentration or BAC. It’suseful for designated drivers trying to keep their blood alcohol beneath thelimit. These apps are imperfect. Oneway to err on the side of caution is to under-report your weight by a goodmargin. I under-state my body weight by 20 kgs/40 lbs to stay safe.)

(I have investigated and I have foundabsolutely no research that indicates whether trans people on hormone therapyhave a BAC profile more in line with their gender or the sex assigned at birth. Doyourself a favor and always be conservative, no matter what, and remember, mybeloved trans friends, that statistically you are more likely to be the victimsof physical or sexual assault. Make sure you have a sober buddy and take careof yourself.)

Q: Sorry, wtf is 10 grams of pure alcohol?

A: Dude, sorry! Got derailed. 10 grams of pure alcohol is roughly(ROUGHLY omg there is a lot of variation and you should measure your drinks andread the gd labels okay!!! Be safe and healthy and do not operate a vehicleincluding a bicycle or skateboard):

1 shot/nip of spirits such as whiskey (including bourbon), vodka, gin, tequila(basically anything that pours about as thin as water) (this is one ounce or 30mls)

2 shots/nips of liqueur such as Bailey’s Irish Cream (this is two ounces or 60 mls).Now, please be fucking careful here dudes. There are whiskey liqueurs that arealmost as strong as the straight spirits, and some that are lower in alcoholthan wine. There is a reason labelling is mandated.

100-120 mls (3-4 ounces) of wine (depends a lot on the strength –watch Aussie wines, they are often much higher in alcohol)

A half pint/280 mls/9 ounces of full strength beer (about 4.5-5% butagain there is a range, and some beers and ales may be more like 8% alcohol)

Pre-mixedbottled drinks: Holy fucking shit. These range fromless than 1 full standard drink (6-8 grams of alcohol) up to 3+ standard drinks(30+ grams of alcohol).

Q: omfg PBK this is stupid. It’s too complicated. Also I am talking about a character.

A: Imma be real here. If you can’t or won’t keep track, you (or yourcharacter) probably shouldn’t be drinking. You do put yourself at risk of arange of things, including short and long term health problems, increased riskof either committing or becoming a victim** of assault. Your character does too. And since I refuse to put a fictional spin on something this important, I’m choosing ‘you’ pronouns.

(** yeesh, people have different views ofthis term. Me, I’m pretty unapologetic about using ‘victim’ because in my view,that’s what you are, at the time. What you do afterwards gives you a shot at redefiningyour experience. I have been a victim and now I am a super-angry survivor whowill fuck you up, get you charged and then call your mom. But no matter what, itis fucked up. I am 5478% in favor of teaching people not to assault other people.However, as someone who works in evidence-based public policy I won’t stopdiscouraging people from getting intoxicated around people who might turn outto be assholes, without good support.)

So yeah, if you can’t or don’t want to keeptrack, these things could help:

Drink in private around peopleyou trust.

Drink a great big glass of water, slowly, between drinks.

Eat a ton of starchy carbs, before you start drinking.***

Q***: This was a weird thing to say when you’re saying only time soberspeople up. That is food. I mean wtf PBK are you talking out of your ass?

A: Nope. Because there are two kinds of sobriety.

The first is what we’ve been discussing.Literally, blood alcohol concentration.Nothing, not one single thing, not caffeine, cold water, food or a terriblefright will affect your BAC. Your cousin who claims Tabasco sauce and coffeesobers him up? He is wrong. The person who gets upset and suddenly feels soberand able to drive? Unless sufficient time has passed, nOPE. “I’ll nap for anhour” – nope. Nap for one hour for every drink you have had, and then maybe I’llgive you back your keys.

The second is functioning. This depends on a lot more stuff.

Functional sobriety is different. In someplaces, it will even get you out of a ticket, although it shouldn’t. If yourefuse a BAC test (blowing into a little machine) they might ask you to walk ina straight line, count backwards in threes, recite presidents, idk. It’sbullshit.

There are things that impact functionalsobriety and a huge one is experience. People who drink a lot and frequentlycan appear more sober at a higher BAC. They might slur less, walk straighter orbe able to recall more details.

Thingsthat affect functional sobriety:

How much you’ve eaten

How much you usually drink whenyou drink

How much your parents drink(**** boy howdy do we need to discuss this)

 Your emotional state

Like seriously 4783 otherthings

(**** gimme a minute here.

The children of parents who drink heavilyor regularly tend to have a higher tolerance for alcohol. This sounds like agood thing, but it’s not. It means that they tend to drink more rather thanless. It increases their risk of alcohol use problems, and makes them lesslikely to recognize a problem, because high levels of use sounds normal.

I mean, my parents drink every night andalways have, a minimum of, say, 6 standard drinks, which is way above mostcountries’ standards for low-risk drinking. My dad usually drinks until he isfalling asleep sitting up. They both view their alcohol use as low level andnormal. It is not, and it has posed problems for my sister and I.)

The thing about functional sobriety is thatit is kind of an illusion. Your response time is still for shit, your decision-makingis still bad enough so you have a decent shot at appearing to consent (evenenthusiastically) to sexual activity you otherwise might not consent to (I say appearing because you can’t legally consent, but the other person may not even know you’re drunk), yourpersonality is altered (you’re less resistant to suggestion, less inhibited andmore impulsive) even while you sound more sober than your buddy there.

Also, you absorb alcohol more slowly with a full stomach, see eat first.

Q: Okay but my friend had half a bottle of wine and they were smashed.

A: Okay. And that’s very possible, if they drank it too fast, or don’t drink much. But could there be something else going on?

Unless you were watching every second, theymight have had more (honestly, people who are starting to wonder if they have aproblem will lie).

Fucking horrible scenario: they may have had their drinkspiked. Now, if you’re feeling safe because you had a thingie to stick in theirdrink to check for rohypnol or GHB, I need to let you know that the most commonsubstance used to spike a drink is actually alcohol. (Someone adding alcohol to a non-alcoholic drink, or increasing the alcohol in analcoholic drink by ordering or making a double or triple or adding spirits tobeer or wine – not difficult with an inexperienced drinker who may notrecognize the taste so watch for you andyour friends okay) 

Or, alternate fucking horriblescenario: they might not be drunk. Acouple of years ago, one of my baby cousins (18, the drinking age in Australia)had a party. A friend staggered in from outside appearing smashed and they puthim to bed in the recovery position. He wasn’t drunk. He had a head injury,probably from hitting his head on the kerb, and he never woke up.

PS maybe they were, though. Again, if they don’t drink much generally, drank fast, haven’t eaten orthey are emotionally vulnerable they are more likely to get drunk pretty quick.Oops.

Q: I feel like this is getting away from what I asked…

A: Yeah, maybe. But I need to digress anyway, dude. If someone isunconscious, call a fucking ambulance, call for medical help. Unconsciousnessis legit an emergency. The difference between sleep and unconsciousness is thata sleeping person can be woken. Remember that if someone drinks a lot, fast,they might fall asleep and just keep getting drunker as they absorb thealcohol. Keep checking in. Be a friend. If they stop responding, assume thingsare not okay and call an ambulance. Accompany your friend to hospital.

Q: Holy shit you talk a lot

A: Right? Sorry. I swear, if I was talking to your group you’d find meengaging and funny, but that’s not always possible in text. I teach this kindashit for a living.

Q: Do you have a TL;DR version?

A: If you’re not willing to really think through things, drink only one standard drink per hour.Don’t fall into the trap of thinking caffeine, a cold shower or a fright willsober you up. And most importantly, when you are the sober one (and someoneshould be sober, my loves) watch out foryour friends.

#rph #rp help #alcohol cw #dearindies #pbk's rp advice #out of the armory #i broadened this out so it wasn't just about rp or the question with the permission of the original asker #anon #ask

[the-unspoken-rules-ff]

Chapter 9

Jungkook's P.O.V

She squeezed me tightly for over three minutes, refusing to let me go. I smiled, knowing she really had missed me, or at least hoping she wasn't putting on a show again. Nayeon was sweet when she wanted to, but she was an overall pain in the ass. I loved her though, more than I could express in words, after all she had helped me though a lot of bad times of my life. She liked to tell people we were together once, even though between us there was never nothing more than a fuck buddies relationship. But I would have been stupid to think that I was the only one she was sleeping with at the time, even though she was only seventeen then. 

She turned her head towards my neck and pressed her lips under my ear. 

"Did you miss me?" She whispered. "Don't even answer, I know you did. I can tell." She said and chuckled. She took a step back and looked at me with her unchanged huge smile that was always spread across her face. "So, what are we doing today?" She asked skipping back to her bed and climbing on top, motioning for me to come and sit next to her. I shook my head slowly. 

"We're not doing anything. I'm gonna go rest. Come to Jimin's room after dinner though, I'll tell you the full story of why I'm here. And I'll make sure Jimin's out." Her smile faded away and she pouted. 

"But I've missed you! I haven't seen you in so long. Can't we hang out?" She said, disappointed beyond imagination.

"No, Nay, not today. I'm tired. I'll nap and we'll hang out tonight." She rolled her eyes and let herself fall on her bed. 

"Whatever." 

"Oh, come on, don't get mad at me. Nay?" She moved and covered herself completely with her blanket until I couldn't even see her head. I sighed and took off my jacket, climbing in bed next to her. I moved her hair from the side of her face and placed my head in between her shoulder and her neck. "You know I hate it when you get like this." I whispered and placed a kiss on her soft skin. She still smelled just like strawberries.  

"It works though. It got you here." Her smile reappeared on her face and she turned her head around and pulled me in for a deep kiss.  She moaned a little and I smiled against her lips when I heart her. When she pulled away, I was still smiling. 

"Don't tell me you haven't fucked since I left cause I don't believe you." 

"No one fucked me like you though." I laughed.

"Keep lying and I won't fuck you at all." I chuckled and got up, picking my jacked off the floor.

"Where are you going?" 

"I wasn't kidding, I really am tired. See you tonight though. My room, 11 pm, make sure your parents are sleeping. I don't want interruptions." I winked and closed the door behind me, walking to the end of the hallway to Jimin's room. He was watching TV when I got in. I dropped on the bed next to him. "Hey, so... can you switch rooms with your sister tonight at like 11 pm." He took his eyes off the TV and stared at me for longer than necessary.

"Yall wanna fuck in my bed?" 

"Yes...?" 

"No. What did I tell you in the train?" 

"Oh, come on, I didn't think you were being serious. Jimin, it wouldn't be the first time, or the second time... or the third time. Let it be." 

"You're using my sister because you're horny. Good job. I'm glad you learned so much from your hyungs." 

"I'm not using her!" I said, a little louder than I intended. "I love your sister. I'm not in love with her, of course not, but I have love for her. I'm not using her for sex, she's my friend. And you're acting like she's not the one jumping on me whenever she gets the chance. And it's not even about sex. I barely come home anymore, so I barely see Nay. I'm not... close to anyone back in Seoul. I can't hug anyone or tell them goodnight. Nayeon adores me. I don't get that feeling from anyone in Seoul. I guess I just need her close. It's not about sex." Jimin looked away from me and sighed. 

"You never told me any of this." 

"What was I supposed to say? I'm lonely? There's nothing you could've done about it." 

"It's not just this. You never tell me anything. Talk to me. At least now, please, just talk to me." He searched for my eyes with his and eventually I gave up and looked at him. Talking about my dad was my least favorite thing in the world. That and no one knew about him except for me and my mom. My hatred towards him scared me, so I avoided to bring him up in any circumstances. 

"When I was ten, I came home from school expecting to find my dad where he usually was, in front of the TV. But that day, it was a thursday, I came home and he wasn't there. I was so tired, my head hurt, but I wasn't able to fall asleep because my dad wasn't there. I kept going back and forth through the house. I was uneasy and I couldn't stop moving. I waited for over three hours before I heard the front door. I watched him stumble with his keys. He dropped them and tried to pick them up, but he couldn't crouch. He held the wall with his hand for balance as he struggled to take off his shoes.  I closed my door and tucked myself in my bed, face towards the wall and pretended to be asleep. I heard him open my bedroom door and I guess he stared at me for a few seconds before he closed it back up." My voice and my hands started shaking and Jimin took one of my hands in his and squeezed it. 

"I heard him knock a few things over in the bathroom. I laid there and listen to him puke." I said, my voice cracked and faded away as the lump in my throat was forcing me to give up and my eyes burned. A few tears came down without my intention to let them go. "I was ten. After that it was just a series of getting drunk regularly. I would start shaking and sobbing while covering my mouth so he doesn't hear. The first time he hit my mom, I was twelve. When I was fourteen he took out a gun and threatened to blow out her brains in front of me. I took his gun and he looked at me, pupils dilated and said 'Go on. Fucking shoot me. You two don't exist without me." I fell backwards and Jimin rushed to keep my head from hitting the side of the bed. I looked at the ceiling, but I couldn't see anything. The tears kept falling down from the corners of my eyes. "I want him dead so bad." My voice barely came out. 

"Who do you want dead?" Nayeon's voice made me jump a little and I quickly wiped away my tears and closed my eyes, hoping she would let it go and just leave.

"Nay, get out." Jimin said, his voice lower and weaker than I've ever heard it before.

"I came to hang out with Kookie, you get out." I sat up and looked at Jimin. His eyes were puffy and red and his face was completely different. He was mad. He let go of my hand and got up, marching rapidly towards his sister. His hand wrapped around her neck and he slammed her violently against the wall behind her. She screamed and closed her eyes.

"I said get out." He yelled in her face and let her neck go. She pushed him as hard as he could and ran out of the room, crying. He sighed and stumbled walking backwards, falling onto the bed. He covered his face with both of his hands and his breathing started picking up. I rushed in front of him and crouched.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey." I took his hands away from his face. "Breathe." He looked at me and nodded, inhaling and exhaling in sync with me until he calmed down. 

We both changed out clothes and jumped into bed for a nap. We didn't say anything else. We both understood what there was to understand. Me and Jimin had a very uncomplicated relationship where everything was clear thorough our eyes, faces and what we did. He didn't have to tell me he's sorry for me, because I knew that he knew I didn't need his pity. I needed him to know and understand which he did. That's why he kept quiet. That's why he almost hurt his sister. Because sometimes he felt me a little too much. Sometimes he just took my emotions upon himself. He was angry that he wasn't there, at 10 years old, next to me to save me, even though he knew that wasn't possible.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rose's P.O.V

I loved Bex beyond imagination, but sometimes I just kept things from her entirely. Like how two months prior to coming here I had enrolled in college and started taking korean classes. Or how her mom wasn't at all the reason I was here. Or how the stranger that just saw me half naked wasn't really that much of a stranger to me. I met Yoongi back in 2014, when they all came to the US. We met at a bar. At the time, I had no idea who he was and we got drunk together. We hooked up that night and surprisingly, I didn't regret it the next morning. Somewhere along the way we became close friends and started talking regularly. And by regularly, I mean daily. His personality really matched mine and I loved it. When I found out that Bex was working for them, I promised him I would come visit. 

Rose: I'm coming upstairs. Which door?

Yoongi: Far left. Don't worry, the guys are out. No one's gonna see you. 

I followed his instructions and ended up in a big room with two twin beds. Yoongi was laying down. I took off my shoes and climbed in the bed, above him and sat on his lap, looking down. His eyes flew open. I smiled and he raised an eyebrow.

"What? I told Bex I was gonna fuck you, at least let me simulate it." A cocky smile spread across his face. 

"Do you want to?" 

"Do I wanna what?"

"Fuck me." I leaned down and kissed him, grabbing his face in my palms. I pulled away slightly to look at him.

"Mhm." 

"Well, you can't. Not now anyway, because the rest are about to come back home and I'm not letting anyone else see you naked today." I groaned and let myself fall off of him, to his side.  He started laughing and I hit his stomach.

"Hey, so, don't be mad, but I think that Jungkook guy is really cute."

"Why would I be mad?"

"Is it okay that I kinda wanna ask him out?" 

"You wanna ask him out? Sorry, I forgot who I was asking. Of course you would. Kookie's the best. Seriously. Go for it. Don't even dare ever compare him with that son of a bitch of an ex of yours. But wait, you just met him and you wanna ask him out?" 

"Well, what's the point in waiting? How else am I gonna get to know him."

"You know that means no more showing up here saying you want me to fuck you. No more nudes and no more video chats in the middle of the night. I'm serious. Kookie's like my little brother."

"Tonight. Last time?" I held out my pinky and he wrapped his around mine.

"Last time."

#BTS jimin #BTS jungkook #bts yoongi #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts ff #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi #jungkook fanfic #jimin and jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #park jimin #jimin fanfiction #jimin #jimin fanfic

[fakingitfanfiction]

Tears in Her Popcorn: Chapter 24

Previous Chapters

Shane dropped a hand on Lauren’s shoulder as he passed the table she was sharing with Karma. And God, was that weird.

The Shane hand thing, not the sharing a table with Karma thing. Although, honestly, a month and half hadn’t done much to make that particular bit of reality any less weird. But it was a weird Lauren could embrace and enjoy (much like she embraced Karma) (and enjoyed her) (enjoyed her quite thoroughly and regularly and thank God Molly and Lucas kept on finding reasons to not be home.) But that Shane thing… it was weird. It wasn’t much, just a small gesture, the tiniest of tinies. It was the sort of thing friends did, a gentle way to remind you

that someone’s there, someone’s thinking of you, someone cares.

So, yeah, weird.

Weird and wrong. If Lauren and Karma has been number one on Hester’s ‘frenemies who will always be 'less fren and more emies’ list, then she and Shane were, at worst, number two, and an argument could certainly be made for a tie. So, yeah, weird. Weird and wrong and, worst of all?

Noticeable.

Everyone saw him do it. Brandi, sitting over by the computers, like she even knew how to turn the damn things on. Vashti, chatting up the librarian like that was some sort of believable cover cause everyone knew that she was really just lurking, laying in wait for the next Tumblr worthy scene. Even Liam saw it, from over there in the corner, trying desperately to figure out how to work the pencil sharpener.

And let’s not forget Karma. (Though Lauren had, with increasing frequency, and that frequency meant like right fucking now, but that’s getting ahead of the story.)

Karma, sitting across the table, definitely noticed it. She kinda couldn’t miss it, even if she kinda (or more than kinda) (like a lot more) wished that she could. It wasn’t as if she just didn’t like Shane… OK… it was totally that she didn’t like Shane. She didn’t like him and she was pretty sure she never would, but, even more, she didn’t like this connection he suddenly seemed to have with Lauren.

And she liked that that connection seemed (more than fucking seemed) to center on Amy even less.

So, Karma noticed and Karma frowned. It was the deep kind, the kind that, normally, Lauren would notice and, normally, would remind her that that sort of frown was the kind to give you early wrinkles and early lines (“frowning like that will age you like ten years in a day, baby”) (and yeah, Lauren calling her 'baby’ was still fucking weird too) but that was all, as noted, normally.

And, as also noted, this wasn't normally. No universe in which Shane Harvey and Lauren Cooper were the kind of friends who touched, like even a little bit, like at all, could ever be considered normal. Not in the fucking least. So, yeah, the sight of Shane’s hand brushing against her girlfriend’s shoulder, hell, the sight of Shane anywhere near Lauren, especially

if that near seemed even more emotional and not just physical, well, that made Karma feel some kind of way.

And not some kind of good way. Just in case that wasn’t clear, you know, from the frown and all.

Then, when she noticed that Lauren hadn’t noticed, that she wasn’t not commenting on her wrinkly frown out of politeness or love or a deep aching need to get some later that afternoon, Karma frowned again. Deeper and harder (and yes, that’s totally 'what she said’ and can you seriously stop thinking about sex for like two minutes?)

(Thought the girl with a foot resting comfortably against her girlfriend’s bare leg under the table.)

Karma realized, in that moment (and probably before, even if she didn't admit it) that Lauren’s silence wasn’t polite. It was preoccupied. It was busy elsewhere with elsewho (and no, Karma did not give even one single tiny fuck if that wasn’t an actual word.) And Karma had had just about all of that she could take.

She didn’t need to follow Lauren’s gaze to know where (who) she was looking (at). Karma knew that her girlfriend’s eyes and mind and probably just about every other part of her (except that leg) (maybe) were focused on that other table, the one in the back, the one far enough removed that neither of them could actually hear anything. But, Karma knew, that didn’t matter.

What Lauren couldn’t hear, she could see. She could imagine. And what Lauren could see was Shane, settling down at that table, taking the spot just to Amy’s left, the chair she had slung her backpack over, clearly marking her territory, clearly saving the spot.

That should have been Lauren’s spot. Or Karma’s. But Lauren wasn’t thinking about that, she was thinking about the sister she’d lost and not so much (like at all) the friend (best friend) that Karma had. In fact, as was becoming less and less of a momentary glitch and more and more of a habit, Lauren wasn’t thinking about Karma at all.

Despite Karma’s best efforts.

And there were efforts. There was the low cut top and there was the leaning forward on the table to accentuate said top. And there was the short skirt paired with the cute pumps and there was, of course, the one pump now resting empty on the floor under the table and the one bare foot running up that one bare leg.

But, unlike Shane’s hand on Lauren’s shoulder, all that seemed to go… unnoticed.

Except by Liam. He couldn’t stop staring. And as annoying as that was, there was a part of Karma that didn’t mind.

At least someone was paying attention.

She tapped her pen in a steady beat against her open notebook, the one she’d filled more with doodles and half formed song lyrics than notes on American history. But Karma was too busy for history (and God, how she wished for that to stop being a part of everything and everyone she did.) She was studying a far more complex and layered subject. She was fully enrolled in Lauren Cooper 101. And despite a pretty good understanding of the tiny blonde’s history (and there it was again), Karma was fairly certain she was flunking the class.

Miserably.

There was a time, Karma knew, when all Lauren wanted was to be noticed. A time when she would have craved Shane’s attention and all the other attentions that would have followed. If Lauren and Shane had become friends then, well, then Lauren would have been popular, she’d have been the queen of all she surveyed. She and Shane would have been the most perfect (platonic) couple, the most perfect team.

Karma knew all that. And she understood all that. Because, once upon a time, that was her.

But this was once upon a much different time, once upon a now, a now without popularity and without power (and without Amy, the one person Karma had always expected to share that once upon with) but, in a bit of an ironic twist, Karma and Lauren both now had the one thing they thought they’d always wanted.

Attention. And a fuckload of it.

“I’ve heard the whispers,” Karma said to Lauren one night. They were on a blanket in her backyard, staring up at a cloudless Austin sky, silently holding hands in the dark, at least until the silence had started weighing on Karma, like that sky pressing down on her and making it hard to breathe. “Everyone’s talking about us, and they think we don’t know it.”

Lauren had squeezed her hand and scooted closer, tugging Karma’s arm around her and laying her head against the other girl’s chest. “They know,” she said. “They always know. They’ll try to deny it, they’ll say they thought we couldn’t hear or we were too wrapped up in each other to even care. But trust me,” she said. “They know.”

Karma nodded. Lauren had forgotten more about how the high school gossip food chain worked than she would ever know, so she took her word for it. And now, ever since Lauren and Shane have been… whatever the hell it is that they are… since they’ve spent weeks glued together at the hip, trying to figure out what’s up with Amy?

Those whispers have gotten louder. Loud enough to almost be shouts, loud enough so that Karma knows: no one is pretending anymore.

See, it’s escaped no one’s attention, except maybe Amy’s (and Karma isn't sure about that, like at all, cause sure it isn’t Amy’s style to be manipulative, but damn does this have 'plan’ written all over it in big neon letters) that Shane is now basically splitting almost all his time between the sisters. And now people were doing less whispering and even less shouting. Now?

Now, they were talking.

Which, Karma had noted over and over and over again, was something she and Lauren were doing less and less of. And as much as she enjoyed the other… stuff… they did, maybe, she thought, it was time to change that. Maybe it was time for more talk and less inaction. But that meant she would have to get her girlfriend’s attention.

“Are you cheating on me with Shane?”

Lauren’s head whipped around so fast, Karma was shocked it didn’t snap right off but, hey, that was kinda the point, right?

“Shane?” Lauren stared at her across the table and Karma tried not to think of how rare that had become lately, how often Lauren didn’t seem to see her at all. “Did you just ask if I was cheating with Shane?”

It sounded ridiculous. It sounded stupid. It sounded impossible.

But then, so had 'Larma’. And so had Karma choosing Lauren over Amy and Lauren choosing Karma over Amy and yeah, maybe that second one seemed a little less… certain… of late, but it had still happened.

Lauren seemed… bothered. Not so much by the question, but more by the interruption, as if talking to her girlfriend was cutting into her stalking time and well, it kinda was. She replied to Karma as she would to anyone else, in that… tone. Her special tone. Her Lauren tone, the 'are you fucking kidding me, right now, with this’ tone, the one that most (read: all) people knew translated whatever she actually said into 'ooooh, I’m about to whip somebody’s ass.’ All of Hester, hell, the world, feared that tone.

Except, apparently, Karma.

She was unimpressed and so, she didn’t flinch or stammer, not she probably would have just a few months ago. That Karma, the one who hadn’t seen Lauren at her most vulnerable, at her most scared (and most semi-naked) would have caved in and cowered and slunk away.

This was not that Karma.

This Karma met Lauren’s glare with one of her own and didn’t even think about backing down and there was a part of Lauren that was impressed (and more than a little turned on) but this, she knew was a problem. Not just a problem, but the problem.

The problem with love.

Love, Lauren knew, made you weak. It made smart people dumb, brave people cowards, strong people weak. It made your powers fade and it made your threats (even the ones that were only implied by your tone) hollow and it rendered you totally incapable of using your wit and your words to remain in control.

And if there was one thing Lauren liked more than attention, it was control. Yet, that seemed to be slipping further and further from her grasp and more and more into the hands (or feet) of her sister and her girlfriend. And that, Lauren had decided somewhere between watching Shane take her seat and Karma’s so utterly ridiculous question, would just not do.

So, she did what she always did and stood her ground, doubling the fuck down on that very tone. “You do remember that Shane's gay, right? And that he's sure of it?” And maybe if she’d left it there… “Not everyone is as sexually confused as you were, Karma.”

Once upon a time (a long time ago) when Karma still thought of herself as nothing more than half of AmyandKarma (and in a galaxy far, far away, where no one had toes) or when Lauren herself hadn’t seemed a touch… confused, she might have struck a nerve with that one.

But in this time and galaxy, Karma had learned a thing or two (or, you know, a dozen), things about Lauren and things about herself and things about how to use those things she’d learned to her advantage.

Things like exactly how Lauren reacted when Karma’s foot slowly traced its way up her leg. A slow trip from ankle to calf, a delicate and deliberate and so very very painstakingly slow drift from calf to thigh, the fabric of the hem of Lauren’s skirt brushing against her toes.

Lauren’s face flushed and Karma was almost certain that she could see her girlfriend slowly slipping further down into her chair, moving closer, urging on the contact even as she held her glare.

Until it faltered. Just the tiniest bit. Just enough.

Point, Ashcroft.

“First of all,” Karma said, leaning forward, her elbows resting atop the notebook, hands clasped together just under her breasts and why, no, she wasn't intentionally pushing them upward, threatening to tumble free, nope, she wasn’t doing that at all. “There are more ways to cheat than just sexually, and we both know it.”

That foot slipped a little higher and Lauren managed a nod - there was no way she could, you know, speak - as Karma tugged her chair closer to the table, giving herself a bit more… leg room. A fact that was not lost on Lauren (or her thigh) (or her… a bit higher up thigh) and she bit down on her lip. Hard.

“Second of all,” Karma said and Lauren waited for her to finish, but it turned out that 'second of all’ was much less about words and much more about a slight twitch of Karma’s ankle which had Lauren grabbing onto the edge of the table and simultaneously proved two things.

One: Lauren had… forgotten… underwear today. (The discovery of which meant Karma’s were pretty much ruined and pointless in a matter of moments.)

Two: When it came to control? Karma had it all.

“You know,” Karma said and yes, that was the very faint ring of gloating in her voice. “When I suggested you wear a skirt today, it was really just so I could stare at your legs.” She smirked, flexing her toes and smiling as she felt Lauren’s thighs clamp around her foot. “But I have to admit, there are other… benefits.”

Benefits like her girlfriend paying attention to her. Total undivided attention and so what if it was only because Karma was giving her the one thing Shane (or Amy) (or her reconciliation with Amy fantasy) couldn’t?

A victory, not matter how small or sexual, is still a victory.

It was taking everything Lauren had (and a bit she didn't know she had) to not just give in, settle back in her chair and enjoy the ride. Sure, everyone in the library would know (one thing Lauren had learned in the last month was that Karma brought out the… loud in her) but Lauren was about three seconds - and five toes - from officially being out of fucks to give about that.

And then Amy giggled. She was staring at her phone, like that was new - the fucking thing was a third hand at this point - and giggling.

Giggling. Like… giggling. Cheerful. Happy. Not sad or miserable or missing, you know, anyone, in the slightest giggles. The sound echoed through the quiet library, earning the blonde a 'hush!’ from the librarian and pulling Lauren’s eyes back there like a black fucking hole sucking up everything within sight.

It wasn’t noticeable, it wasn’t like Lauren lept from the table and darted back there to see what the fun was about. She didn’t even turn her head, it was just her eyes and just for a moment.

But that moment was enough.

Karma sighed and let her foot drop from between Lauren’s legs, finding her shoe on the floor and slipping into it. She shoved her books in her bag and pushed back from the table, noting, ironically, that now she had Lauren’s attention again.

“Karma -”

“You’re right,” Karma said, cutting her off in mid-apology (assuming Lauren’s next few words were actually going to be an apology) (which, as far as Karma was concerned, wasn’t a safe bet at all.) “That was just silly of me, the you and Shane thing.”

She glanced back once at Amy, who just happened to pick that moment to look up, their eyes meeting for the first time in forever. And for the first time in even more forever, Karma didn’t want to stay there, she didn’t want to let her gaze linger.

“I mean, clearly,” she said, breaking eye contact with a slow shake of her head as she turned and walked away. “It’s not Shane I have to worry about.”

#faking it #faking it fanfiction #larma #update #poorkarma #karma #lauren #submission #Tears In Her Popcorn