#mojo is dropping the ball here

[nhl-stories]

hornylovesickmess – Nico Hischier

Summary: Marie should know better by now, knows she should leave him alone, but Nico's like a drug. One more hit can't hurt.

Author’s Note: Almost a year to the day I finally finished this album series. Phew! Also lol to me thinking I'd have the motivation to finish it in 10 weeks. Seems clear from the title but it does get steamy below.

Word Count: 2.6k

Album Series Masterlist

And I don't wanna be the type of person who calls you up Every time I need to get off

The view from her hotel room is taunting her. It’s sunny and bright on the Hudson River, reflecting off the buildings of the New York skyline.

Most people wouldn’t be too upset about being put up in a nice hotel and having 48 hours free in close proximity to the city, but Marie had moved away for a reason.

And still part of her is stuck here, even at a 4-star hotel minutes away from Newark airport.

So, she does what she does best and gives into her baser instincts.

She’s no stranger to crafting the perfect sext, keeping it tantalizing and teasing enough while still giving her location. Like an eloquent ‘u up?’

Marie hits send before she can second guess herself.

She shouldn’t be reaching out to him, grabbing for that loose thread and pulling for her own selfish reasons. But she’s been lonely since the move and in all honestly, just plain horny.

Nico almost swallows his tongue when he opens the text.

At first glance a simple picture of the New York skyline, but at second glance the reflection of a naked woman comes into view.

It might as well be Marie’s calling card.

He regrets opening the text in the locker room.

“What the hell has you that red Neeks?” Bastian calls from his stall.

He can feel the blush getting darker.

“The last time you looked like that was because of that flight attendant,” Bratter calls out.

When he doesn’t respond balls of tape come flying his way with a chorus of groans.

“It’s not like I texted her first!”

“You never text her first,” Jack rolls his eyes.

“I’m not texting her back.”

“Block her number while you’re at it,” Bratt responds.

Nico stashes his phone away and mostly forgets about the text.

||||

She checks her phone for about the fifth time during drinks with her friends. She knows what they’re thinking, but they’re not gonna say it.

It’s especially kind of them since Nico hasn’t responded. Even though he’s the type of guy to have read receipts on, so she knows he looked at her message.

Her phone buzzes, she pulls it out of her pocket so fast she fumbles it, dropping it on the bar. Her friend snatches it up and laughs.

“It’s a notification from Postmates, you have coupon.”

Marie feels herself flush, embarrassed to be caught like some kind of junkie waiting for their next hit.

“Jesus Christ, just go get laid! You’re unbearable when you’re wound this tight. It’s not even worth the catch up.”

“Fine, I’ll go, but only because I haven’t had sex in months. See you on my next layover.”

“Unless you’re still jonesing for that Jersey dick!”

“It’s Swiss,” Marie sticks her tongue out.

She waves down a cab, and she should give the address to her hotel, but she’s in some sort of horny fugue state. Why go back and masturbate at her hotel thinking about him when she knows his address?

Before she knows it, she’s at his door fixing her hair and trying to lean seductively against the doorframe. Maybe she’s lost her mojo during her recent dry spell.

She knocks before she loses her nerve.

Marie hears someone lumbering along around on the other side of the door. Nico finally answers the door; shirtless with a pair of gray sweats low on his hips, hair flopping about like he just woke up.

Her mouth goes dry at the familiar sight, or maybe she salivates, or somehow both at the same time. She feels so out of sync with her hormones.

But she knows she wants, scratch that, needs.

“Thought maybe the picture just didn’t do the real thing justice,” she smirks even though she kind of wants to grimace at the cheesy line.

“I was trying to let you down easy,” he’s trying to avoid eye contact.

“Well, here I am, easy and ready to be let down on your bed.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. She can practically see his willpower crumbling piece by piece.

“C’mon, I haven’t been with anyone else since Denver.”

She dares to reach out, running a finger from his collarbone down, down, down, until Nico grabs her wrist.

“Just–“ he yanks her into the apartment, “get in here.”

Marie is flush against his chest now, she smirks, “that’s more like it.”

“Your picture got me in trouble in locker room, the boys think you’re no good for me.”

“Do you want me to be good for you?” She roughly grabs him through his sweatpants.

“I don’t think you could be if you tried,” he ruts against her palm.

She gentles her touch in response, she wants to be good, for Nico at least.

Marie can’t make eye contact now. If she looks up all the guilt of coming here after she promised herself she’d stop will come rushing back. She doesn’t have time for that when she can feel him hardening in her hand.

So, she closes her eyes and kisses him. Lets her tongue explore his mouth. Lets Nico manhandle her towards the bedroom. A path she’s too familiar with even with her eyes closed.

She doesn’t dare open her eyes until she’s flat on her back and hears Nico rummaging in the bedside table. As he comes back up with a condom, Marie works on the too many layers of clothes she’s still wearing.

He rolls on the condom and strokes himself slowly, “Is this you being good?”

Marie spreads her thighs and bites her lip, holding back demands for him to get on with it.

He pushes her legs even farther apart and nearly drapes himself over her. One finger runs up her slit, feeling how slick she is with desperation, he sucks the finger into his mouth and Marie can’t hold on any longer.

“Please, fuck, please,” she grapples for his shoulders anything to anchor her in the moment.

He doesn’t need any more encouragement than that to push in one go.

“Jesus Christ,” Marie gasps at the sudden intrusion, familiar as it is.

He sets an agonizingly slow pace, making her feel every unbearable movement without getting her any closer to her climax.

“C’mon Nico, give it to me,” she whines and clenches around him, trying to egg him on.

But it doesn’t deter him from his mission to tease her death, maybe it’s punishment for how she’s treated him.

She tries to move her own hips for more friction and still Nico keeps with his slow and steady pace.

Marie grabs his hair and makes him look at her, “I swear to god, if you don’t start really fucking me, I’m gonna explode.”

The evil little smirk he gives her, makes her stomach swoop.

“I knew you couldn’t stay good.”

“If being bad means I’ll have an orgasm, I guess I’m the devil,” she pulls him in for a kiss that’s probably too much tongue and teeth but she doesn’t care.

Then Nico takes her by surprise, flipping her onto all fours in such a fluid movement she already feels closer to coming. And that’s before he starts railing her from behind. The slap of skin and pornographic squelching fills the silence in the room.

Marie has lost all her witty words, can barely get enough air to make noises beyond tiny gasps. Nico knows exactly where to thrust, how to grip her hips, tweak her nipples, reach between her thighs and rub her clit. It’s too much, to have your body read like a book.

She clenches around him when she’s almost over the edge and feels him release, one hand tightening so hard on her hips it might bruise.

He blankets his body over her back, kissing her shoulders while he continues to rub her clit, buried deep inside her.

Her arms give out when she finally comes, her body singing with pleasure. Nico’s weight heavy on her, but she can’t bring herself to move him, it all feels too good.

She doesn’t remember when they move apart, or if they clean up at all, or if she peed afterward, she really hopes she at least did the last one. Still, she’s in hazy bliss before she’s rudely awoken from her dream-like state by her alarm obnoxiously ringing, too loudly at that.

She has to get out of the bed to find her phone her jeans pocket.

“Shit, fuck, shit,” she swears before having to put her clothes back on.

Nico’s alarm starts going off now. He sits up to see Marie half-dressed already.

“Of course,” he sounds so disappointed.

“I have a flight to catch and I still have to get my uniform and pack my suitcase.”

“Sure,” he sighs as he starts to get out of bed himself.

She probably deserves this, scratch that she knows she deserves this, but doesn’t mean she won’t defend herself.

“It’s a 9:30 Newark to DFW, look it up” she knows her shirt is inside out but that’s how late she is as she calls an Uber.

“Thanks for last night,” she gives Nico a quick kiss and leaves before he can respond.

Of course, when the elevator opens, Jack is the one standing on the other side, with an exhausted looking boy next to him. It’s probably his brother, Marie’s brain supplies the small Devils knowledge she has.

“That fucking idiot.”

“I showed up here, the blame is on me,” Marie holds her hands up in surrender.

“But the inside shirt and messed up hair is probably on him.”

“Probably can mostly blame me for that too, I know you want to.”

The look of disgust on his face makes that very clear.

Thankfully, the elevator door opens before the torture can continue.

||||

Marie goes back to rebuilding her resolve. She was trying to quit him cold turkey, not mess up Nico’s perfect little world again.  But she couldn’t resist one more hit of her favorite drug.

Still, the universe isn’t making it easy for her to stay sober.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!”

Marie and her coworkers all jump at the exclamation. When she turns around there’s Jack Hughes.

Nico is nowhere to be seen, so Marie is sure she can get away without making much of a scene.

“Of all the hotels in a city with multiple airports…” Jack doesn’t seem amused at her response, “I’m just as surprised as you, sorry the universe is clearly playing a sick joke on us.”

She runs off to her room before she has a chance encounter with Nico. Begs off from dinner plans with her coworkers. Masturbates in the shower in hopes of taking the edge off.

She’s wound up like a rubber band knowing Nico is so close.  For all she knows, there’s only a wall separating them right now.

And of course, she gives in, because Marie is a fiend and a rotten person. How can she resist when the world laid it out on a platter like this.

She hopes he’s stronger than her and doesn’t respond, but she texts him regardless: I have it on good authority we’re in the same hotel

Marie can barely put her phone down before she gets a response.

Yeah for someone who doesn’t want me interacting with you Jack was quick to gossip

She can hear his tone through the words, hear his husky laugh at his own joke. Her chest feels like it’s squeezing her heart. Makes her act out of character.

Wanna get dinner or drinks or something?

Marie from a few months ago would be nauseous at this kind of proposition, but her present-self feels like she owes Nico… something different.

So, she finds herself tucked into a corner booth at some restaurant Nico says he’s been to before.

And she laughs at his jokes. Brushes her hand over his. Turns a bit soppy looking into his warm brown eyes.

And she knows she made a mistake.

But still, she holds his hand as they walk back to the hotel; swaying back and forth, a little wine-drunk.

Marie walks him to the door like she’s some sort of gentleman at the end of a first date, they both know the connotations are anything but gentlemanly.

“This was nice,” she smiles up at him.

“If you were still in Jersey, we could have nights like this all the time,”

That should deflate her a bit, but she’s made it too far for it to end here with some serious conversation, so she reaches into his pocket to grab his room key and unlock the door, shoving him into the room.

She kisses him, hard and needy. She desperately wants her lips everywhere. She follows that train down his jaw.

“Clearly you want this kind of thing too, or you wouldn’t come crawling to me anytime we’re in the same place,” his hands are bunching up the skirt of her dress.

She bites down on his neck, a little meaner than she should. But it gets him going enough to throw her onto his bed. Her underwear is gone and a finger is pushing into her before she can make any moves.

A second and third are soon to follow. The pressure from his thumb on her clit is enough to make her throw back her head and enjoy the intoxication.

His other hand cups her jaw, makes her open her eyes and look at him.

“This is all I wanted, but you had to be a brat who let me find out you moved by showing up to your empty apartment,” he stops moving his fingers, stops using any pressure.

“I apologized for that,” she whines, desperate and uncaring.

“Did you?” He crooks his fingers just so.

“I gave you a blow job,” Marie grits out.

He raises his brows while he pulls out, leaving her feeling emptier than ever before.

“Fuck.”

The realization crashes over her harder than any orgasm ever could.

She scrambles off the bed throwing on her underwear and grabbing her phone.

“I’m deleting your number.”

“What?”

“I moved to a city that doesn’t even have a hockey team to stay away from you and that’s not even working.”

“You moved because of me?” The crease between his brow is like a canyon.

“You wanted more and I knew I wasn’t– I’m not in a place to give that to you, but fuck! Whatever I’m doing now– I’m just being cruel, aren’t I?”

“I’m not exactly turning you away.”

“Doesn’t mean I should keep using you,” tears she wasn’t expecting start to well up, “Nico you’re worth a lot more than a quick fuck from a flight attendant who happens to be in the same zip code as you.”

Nico just stares at her and Marie knows she has to be the bigger person here.

“You should block me on everything too, don’t give me a way to weasel my way back in.”

Once she’s dressed, she moves towards Nico, moves a strand of hair off his forehead.

She feels like she should say something meaningful, but this isn’t that kind of relationship; Marie made sure of that when she scorched the earth behind her when she left.

She kisses him one last time and hopes she’ll be able to find her next hit in someone else.

#nico hischier #nico hischier fic #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier imagines #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils #new jersey devils story #nj devils #nhl #nhl stories #nhl fic #hockey fics #hockey imagines

[boinin]

Blue Lock Manga

After two weeks of creeping hysteria and stir-craziness redditors know what I mean, the scanlation for Chapter 222 (“Design”) has dropped. My usual new chapter rambling under the cut.

No mention of a break next week 🎉

Previous chapter analyses

1. Hiori finds his mojo (isagi. it's been isagi all along)

I had hoped best boi's ego would be linked to combating Ubers more so than Isagi, but alas, the harem of simps/rivals proved too compelling to pass on. This seems to be set-up for Noa to substitute Hiori on in place of Kurona once the three-minute star change is over. But until then...

It's been pointed out on the subreddit that Isagi looks particularly good in that first panel. I would like to raise that Hiori is going doki-doki for Himsagi-kun in the second.

Guys, they know who they're appealing to with this manga. On that point...

2. Soccer Dad Star Showdown

Blue Lock!! Where one half of the fandom are here for the world-class ball keeping techniques and the other half of the fandom are here for... the world-class ball keeping techniques 😏 Guess what camp I'm in?

The effect normal panels of Snuffy and Noa have on me. Guess I have a kink for competent football dads 🤷 /s Chris Prince and Lavinho could never.

Anyway, Snuffy hits the pitch hot and doesn't let BM catch a break. I really enjoyed his and Noa's face off. As much chaos as Lavinho and Prince caused during the two previous matches, Snuffy strikes me as a far bigger threat in terms of dismantling BM's defence (and showing up Noa). It takes BM's two most talented forwards to see off the shot Snuffy sets up for Barou. At the end of the chapter, as Ubers regroup to take on BM's defence again, I have a sinking feeling Snuffy's going to win this confrontation. And perhaps he should. What's rational exactly about a team at war?

Unashamed thirst screenshot of Snuff. This one is really cool, didn't have time to clean it, but it looks bomb ✨ He's so threatening yet friendly? Realest of the bunch.

3. Ness tries

...

...

That's it.

Like for real. He runs in, doesn't touch the ball, gets read to filth by a fifteen year old, and isn't seen again in this chapter.

When are we going to see some magic from the magician?

It's high time for Ness (as a professional player) to get his head in the game. This is the guy that outperformed everybody but Kaiser in the original BM stamina and technique test. He's subservient to his emperor, but even then, how is he this lacklustre?

Since Noa only cares about numbers, it seems like Ness is here to stay... but it sure is frustrating.

4. Superbowl: Kaiser V Barou V Isagi

This is my favourite panel this week. Clock the auras: puzzles, thorned vines and lightning collide at last. Dope. I'm still new to colouring, so I'm not touching this one, but I can't WAIT to see what someone with serious skill does with it 🔥🔥🔥

It's refreshing to see Kaiser get worked up over someone other than Isagi. Got to spread the frustration, right?

Prediction tracker

(alternatively: how wrong can one nerd be week to week?)

Last time, I predicted: I think Snuffy's MO will be to set up a goal for Barou, while knocking Kaiser and Isagi down a peg. I hope he synergises with Lorenzo! Noa will be man marking Snuffy, but might get time to do some Isagi coaching while he's out there, who knows?

So far so good, right? I think this prediction will carry over into the next chapter. I'll caveat one thing: Isagi and Kaiser's backs must ache from carrying both the offence and defence of Bastard Munchen. They're the only BM players that aren't part of the circus as of the end of this chapter. Raichi, Yukimiya, Mensah and Birkenstock found dead in a ditch /s

I predict Barou will score the next goal, with Lorenzo providing an assist. Then Noa will make a substitution with the aim of countering Lorenzo and Ubers in the final play of the game...

Four chapters ago (chp 218), I predicted: As for who’ll be the true game changer? Said it already, but if Hiori’s not getting subbed on for our newly christened royal trash!Ness in the next five chapters, I’ll eat my hat. 🐑

Have a funny feeling he'll get subbed in the chapter after next. If I'm decided a clown by chp 223, watch the egg on my face get cooked by chp 224. I don't think Ness is getting subbed out at this point.

Until next time! 😋👒

#blue lock #bllk #bllk manga spoilers #bllk manga analysis #bllk chp 222 #mine #hiori yo #isagi yoichi #marc snuffy #noel noa #alexis ness #baro shoei #boinin talks bllk

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

total takes island - character profiles

i made these up for fun if ur on here and want something changed pls tell me. i was gonna do a google forms thing but then i remembered over half of the mods arent even active anymore. anyway ill probably edit this later anyway too since i havent even read it over yet lolz

Name: Mod Ass

Likes: peace and quiet

Dislikes: people kissing engaged guys because they hate his fiancee

Known For: being a silent voice of reason in a world of chaos

Why TTI?: money

Ass is a quiet, thoughtful person who seems to attract drama to them like a magnet in a silverware store. Their life back home is full of soap opera level shenanigans, so they're pretty confident they'll survive here.

Name: Austin, baby!

Likes: women and having a groovy time yeah!

Dislikes: losing his mojo

Known For: his swingin' 60's sensibilities

Why TTI?: to meet more birds and make a little dough to pay off his harassment suits

Austin is a loud and proud, often hateable fella who came straight from the 60's to spread his word of free love and groovy fun times to the low-down pessimists on total drama

Name: Caesar

Likes: drama and slaying

Dislikes: being involved in said drama

Known For: being a great host

Why TTI?: caesar was invited by the producers to acknowledge their past legal feud is behind them

Caesar hosts their very own total drama hunger games, a very popular simulation-based cable TV show that's grown its own fanbase. a few months ago, the total drama syndicate attempted to take it down for copyright infringement, starting a tumultuous "total drama boycott" on reddit that caused over sixteen million dollars of lost revenue. since then, the producers have dropped the case and invited caesar on the show to let the fans know it's all in the past

Name: Courtney

Likes: their friends and piercings

Dislikes: mean people

Known For: their popular total drama takes blog

Why TTI?: to finally have the full td experience

Courtney (name inspired by the former contestant) is a laid-back, though hardworking moderator of a popular total drama centered blog. after an incident involving a past mutual and a widespread callout post that claimed courtney was slandering td contestants, courtney challenged the op to a bet: if courtney could survive the real total drama, the op would take down their callout and delete their blog. now, courtney has to prove they have what it takes to survive not only the fandom, but the show itself.

Name: FNAF Bonnie

Likes: bad opinions

Dislikes: actual bad opinions

Known For: inciting drama

Why TTI?: what better place to spread the most terrible takes known to man?

Bonnie is a #gamer who's origins began in the online reddit gaming community. not because they actually like using reddit, but simply because it's so easy to start arguments there. after having their IP permanently banned for making fake AITA posts on 18 different accounts over the course of two months, bonnie is taking their cause national!

Name: Fren

Likes: unknown

Dislikes: unknown

Known For: mysteriously modding a long-gone blog...

Why TTI?: money

Fren is a mysterious figure who probably won't stick around for long. they have their own life outside of total drama, after all.

Name: Frollo

Likes: catholocism and grapes

Dislikes: sinners

Known For: his awesomely passionate religious sermons about why lust is actually the devil inside your balls

Why TTI?: to spread the word of jaysus

Frollo is an experienced judge and catholic preacher (sometimes) who loves the french lord and hates sinners. he's a sassy, snappy gurl who's always ready to call out someone on their bible-bereaving behaviors

Name: Joner

Likes: their buddies mclovin and michael :)

Dislikes: death threats

Known For: just bein a dude

Why TTI?: to hang out with their besties

joner has been best friends with michael and mclovin (also contestants) for years now. the trio decided to join the show to better strengthen their bond and earn money to build the giant statue of hulk hogan joner wants in their backyard

Name: Julia

Likes: also drama and slaying

Dislikes: not being the center of attention

Known For: being a girlboss

Why TTI?: money

julia is a girlboss and an analytic mastermind who's here with a brand new glasses prescription to kick butt and win money. she's implied to be one smart cookie, as well as being girlypop

Name: Kelly

Likes: corn anon

Dislikes: milfphobia

Known For: being a great host a baddie

Why TTI?: money as well

kelly is actually an incredibly kind classy person we don't know why they signed up for this other than the cash involved. maybe they're here to spread some positivity and support their fellow mods and ex-anons

Name: Kitty

Likes: being incomprehensible

Dislikes: wells

Known For: inciting mass hysteria

Why TTI?: they're just a bit silly

kitty is a chaos icon, but not in the bad way. they're simply able to take a situation and add a little whimsy to it- a bit like izzy, but less crazy badass and more silly forest gnome

Name: Mal

Likes: YAOI!!!! >_< AWAAAA

Dislikes: women

Known For: blogging

Why TTI?: to prove a point

Mal is not only a fujoshi, not only a manipulative mastermind who's able to UwU herself out of any trouble, not only a girlblogger, but also the very same op of courtney's callout doc. she never actually expected courtney to take on the challenge, so she just had to jump in too to prevent courtney from winning. unfortunately, courtney is the only person who knows of mal's true intentions

Name: Max

Likes: reading probably lol nerd

Dislikes: not being taken seriously

Known For: his diplomacy and mildly short temper

Why TTI?: money as well

Max is a practical, usually-calm person with a tendency to make enemies and hold grudges. as someone with short guy energy, he has a hard time being taken seriously by his teammates and is judged fairly harshly. he takes the natural role of leader on his team, though.

Name: McLovin

Likes: having a swaggy time

Dislikes: dudes stomping on his vibe

Known For: being iconic

Why TTI?: joined with friends joner and michael

McLovin is a ladykiller, an annoying nerd, and the least-hateable contestant all at once. he's so non-offensive it's almost sad. still, it's his ability to make close and genuine bonds with the people around him the save him from the chopping block early on.

Name: Michael

Likes: people leaving them alone

Dislikes: total drama fans

Known For: being tired

Why TTI?: joined with friends joner and mclovin

as the only fem-presenting member of the trio, michael struggles with being seen beyond being "one of the guys". while they joined with their friends, they also hope to make some close female buddies, too, who can hopefully dissuade joner from using the 100 grand to build a hulk hogan statue in his backyard.

Name: O

Likes: computers

Dislikes: anxiety

Known For: being scared

Why TTI?: to overcome his fears

O has a small fear of geoff, one of the original contestants, after being harassed by a geoffnon online for months. in order to combat his fear, his therapist sent his application to tdi for some lengthy exposure therapy :)

Name: Patrick

Likes: himself and huey lewis and the news

Dislikes: women and stupid people

Known For: being mean

Why TTI?: money for his skincare routine

Patrick is a no funny business type guy, although everyone else thinks he's kind of a dork. he views himself as a gigachad sigma male who effortlessly maintains his composure to secure his winnings, intimidating and threatening the weaker contestants and attempting to make friends with the chaos harbingers all the same

Name: Peter

Likes: shenanigans

Dislikes: no shenanigans

Known For: his immaculate vibes

Why TTI?: it was the weekly family guy episode plot

Peter is really just a fun dude with a good heart, even though the circumstances he finds himself in can make that hard to see. he enjoys finding the bright side of things, though he can come off as a little clueless

Name: Scary

Likes: lying, being scary

Dislikes: people who take this too hardcore

Known For: being scary

Why TTI?: tomfoolery

inspired by the past events in the show and fandom, Scary decided to join to cause a little more mischief. They have gone on to threaten to murder the losing contestants, and seems to dislike those who take the game (and rules in general) too seriously.

Name: Scruffy

Likes: history

Dislikes: mean people

Known For: carrying on the td legacy

Why TTI?: to collect data for future reference

As a Total Drama historian, Scruffy takes their job very seriously. they don't have a practical purpose for collecting all the future information other than being able to cite it in the future, but they're here anyway. and don't get it twisted- Scruffy is no fan, they're an expert.

Name: Sha-Mod

Likes: haikus

Dislikes: haikus

Known For: being an icon

Why TTI?: legal obligation

Sha-Mod is an inventor of many things; corn anoning, marmaduke, and the many a hundred haikus he's collected. he's really a fun dude who's here to be a part of td history and hopefully avoid making TOO many enemies

Name: Staci

Likes: kinning

Dislikes: kin-shamers and irony

Known For: being an online queen

Why TTI?: to fulfill their kin memories

as their blog title would imply, staci is a cornerstone of the kinning community and is attempting to give their kin identity some grounding by joining tti. as a staci kin, they share all of her memories, so they also love to bring up fun facts about their extensive family and personal connections to every famous person ever. they're aware of the risks of being kin-shamed by the other contestants, but they simply don't care. they're hoping to get booted first to fulfill their destiny

#total takes island #these are kinda made up based on what happens in the simulator and what i thought would be interesting so take everything w a grain of sal

[wangxianficrecs]

ahhhh i'm trying to find a fic that has this one line that goes "lan wangji is hanging up clouds when [the world ends/he hears the news]" and it's a canon divergence/arranged marriage? au. i think it's also a 20k+ oneshot but i can't!! remember!! any help would be appreciated!

I’m intrigued!  I don’t know this one:  does anyone else?

~*~

花无百日红; the flower that withers

by yiqie

M, 29k, wangxian

Summary:  Lan Wangji opens his mouth. He closes it. He is blisteringly aware of how absurd it sounds for him to say, I am you, only happier. The truth, perhaps, is not always the best choice.

#wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic #fic finder #mojo is dropping the ball here #anyone? #crowd-sourcing #Anonymous

[jule1122]

hyping the other up before they do something big

@prouvaireafterdark Thank you for the prompt! Sorry it took a while to answer it. As usual it's a bit of a variation on theme, but I hope you enjoy.

Short future fic with emotional support and DOGS!

I do not mind the rain sometimes of AO3

Title from "Rain" by grandson

When Michael walks back into the living room, he sees Alex staring out the window, holding what he knows is at minimum his fourth cup of coffee. He comes up behind Alex and wraps his arms around his waist. Alex places his free hand over Michael’s, but doesn't say anything.

Michael can’t remember the last time Alex felt this tense in his arms, and maybe he’s imagining it, but he swears he can feel a fine tremor under Alex’s skin. He kisses the back of his neck before asking, “How much coffee have you had?”

“Too much,” Alex admits.

“That’s what I thought,” Michael sighs and takes the cup from Alex’s hand and places it on the nearest table. He starts to massage Alex’s shoulders, but Alex turns and drops his head onto Michael’s shoulder. “Hey,” Michael wraps his arms around him again, hugging him tightly. “You don’t have to do this.”

Alex steps back, and Michael reluctantly lets him go. “She’s already on her way,” Alex replies, looking at his watch and frowning.

“So what?” Michael takes his hand again. “I’ll call her and tell her to turn around. Or you can leave or just go back to the bedroom, and I’ll deal with her when she gets here.”

“It’s fine,” Alex shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

“Alex, you’re freaking the dogs out.” They both look at Mojo and Sophie who are laying under the coffee table, heads resting on their outstretched paws. Normally they would be sitting next to Alex or playing with each other.

Alex walks over to the couch, pulling Michael with him as he sits down. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, slumping against the cushions. “I shouldn’t be such a head case about this.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” Michael squeezes his hand gently. “I want you to be ok.”

Before Alex can answer Mo crawls out from under the coffee table and rests his head on Alex’s thigh. When Alex strokes his ears, he takes that as permission to join him and leaps onto the cushion next to Alex, curling up in a ball beside him. Sophie follows his lead like she always does and lays across Alex’s feet. His face softens, as he leans down to pet her. “Beautiful girl,” he whispers as he does every time she aims her pitbull smile at him.

Michael shakes his head at the dogs, but relaxes a little, more confident now that having this meeting at their house was the right decision. Alex had suggested a public place since he was hesitant to bring someone into their home who may not end up being welcome. But Michael knew being surrounded by strangers would make Alex even more uncomfortable. Now he’s grateful they will have the dogs there if things get awkward. They are a great distraction and conversation starter. He and Alex can talk about them for hours - how Mojo found them and helped them get back together, how they were supposed to foster Sophie while she recovered from having one of her back legs removed, but knew the moment they saw her they were never letting her go. And both dogs are so attuned to Alex that they will be the perfect emotional support for him.

When Alex looks back up, his smile is forced. “I am ok,” he says without conviction. “I’m lucky, right, to have this chance. You would kill”

“Don’t,” Michael interrupts sharply, startling Mo into rejoining Sophie on the floor. He doesn’t want to be harsh with Alex, but if he lets him deflect now, Alex will never admit what is really bothering him. “Don’t pretend this has anything to do with me. You don’t owe this to me as some sort of penance. You and I both know nothing that happens today, good or bad, changes a damn thing for me.”

Alex drops his eyes for a moment before looking back at Michael. The naked vulnerability of his face takes Michael’s breath away. “I’m just so fucking scared,” Alex whispers.

“Of what?” Michael asks just as quietly. He runs his hand through Alex’s hair, squeezing the back of his neck to try and relieve some of the tension that has crept back in.

“My dad hated me so much, and it became harder and harder not to believe the things he said about me, to not think I deserved the ways he hurt me,” Alex closes his eyes and briefly clenches his fists before taking a deep breath and continuing. “I used to tell myself it would have been different if she stayed. Maybe she wouldn’t have been able to protect me, but she would have loved me. And if she could love me, he wasn’t right about me.”

“He was wrong, about everything, but especially about you,” Michael cradles Alex’s face in his hands and kisses his forehead, wishing he could force his love and conviction into him. He knows he shouldn’t interrupt Alex, that he should let him talk, but he can’t give Jesse’s poison even one second to sneak back into Alex’ heart. “You know that, right?”

“I do know. Most of the time,” Alex concedes with a rueful laugh. He turns his head and kisses Michael’s palm before leaning back against the couch. “But what if she’s just as disappointed as he was in me. What if she sees the same things he did - someone who’s weak, perverted and a disgrace?”

“Alex,” Michael barely manages to get his name out through the tightness in his throat. It’s been years since he heard Alex talk about himself that way, and God, it hurts.

“I mean who wants a gay, disabled vet with mental health issues for a son?”

“Arturo, Mimi, Sanders,” Michael jumps in immediately. “But that’s not how they would describe you. Their son is brilliant, brave, resourceful, loving, compassionate, resilient, strong, handsome, clever and kind. He’s also too self sacrificing for his own good, a bit of a smart ass and terrible at asking for help, but no one’s perfect.”

“Thank you,” Alex takes Michael’s hand and kisses his knuckles. “It’s just I have all the reasons, excuses really for why she left. And I don’t blame her for that, living with Dad was a nightmare. But also why she’s stayed away all these years. If I find out all those justifications were wrong, and she just doesn’t want me, I’m afraid of living with that. Maybe I’m better off not knowing.”

“I get that, I do.” Michael knows how tempting it is to live with an illusion rather than facing a less than perfect reality. He’d fought against any suggestion that his mother had flaws, clinging to the image he’d built up in his mind. He’d been afraid of what losing that image would say about him. But while Alex’s fears are familiar, they aren’t his so he needs to keep his focus on what Alex needs right now.

“I wish I could promise you that she’ll see you for the amazing person you are and love you the way you deserve, but I can’t. I believe she will, but if you don’t want to take the chance, we can call this off.” Michael moves closer to Alex, putting his arm around him and stroking his neck. “But I think you want to know.”

When Alex nods, Michael kisses him as reward for his honesty. “You’re going to be ok, you know. You have so many people who love and support you that if today is a beginning, a goodbye or something in between, you can handle it.”

Alex shakes his head like he’s going to argue so Michael pulls him into his arms. They could play “what if” forever, and it’s only going to leave Alex more stressed than when they started so Michael needs a better plan. He kisses the top of Alex’s head and stands up.

“I’ll just be a second,” he reassures Alex when he grabs his hand to stop him from leaving. It doesn’t take long to find what he wants and returns quickly with one of Alex’s guitars.

“Michael?” Alex asks, brow furrowed as he takes it from him.

“I know it’s more of a me thing,” Michael replies as he sits back down. “But you don’t have time for a run with the dogs.” Mojo and Sophie both look up when he says run so he gestures for them to stay. “Music might quiet my head, but it puts you back in yours. So play me something,”

Alex makes a face at Michael, clearly skeptical, but he settles the guitar in his lap and starts to play. Michael turns to face him, their knees touching, and rests his hand on Alex's thigh. After a few moments, the random notes Alex played to warm up turn into a melody, one Michael doesn’t recognize. “Do I know this song?” he asks.

“Not yet,” Alex answers with a sweet smile that goes straight to Michael’s heart.

Michael closes his eyes and listens, knowing the song is for him and hearing all the things Alex has finally learned to say reflected in the music. When the doorbell rings, Alex tenses momentarily, but plays a few more notes before stopping.

When Alex stands to put the guitar away, Michael opens his eyes. “You ready?” he asks Alex.

“Yeah,” Alex reaches for Michael’s hand and pulls him up. They walk to the door together, dogs following behind them.

Just before they reach it, Michael stops and turns Alex to face him. “I love you,” he reminds Alex softly.

“Love you, too,” Alex holds Michael’s eyes for a moment, his expression softening as gently brushes Michael’s hair back from his face.

Michael nods in encouragement, and they take the last step forward. Alex tightens his grip on Michael’s hand as he opens the door.

“Hi Mom.”

#malex fic #fic prompt #rnm fic #malex established relationship #my fic #They have dogs #Just Michael and Alex loving each other

[harrywritingsbyme]

plsss write about y/n pushing a dildo in her for nightly cockwarming & harry finding outt🥺🥵

Goodnight

A/N: I’m sorry it’s crazy late bbys!!! School started back this week and it’s been a bit of an adjustment. And my writing mojo/schedule has been out of wack all week...so I really hope this one doesn’t suck🥺. Anyways, this one is a cute/filthy lil sub!Y/n piece! Enjoy🙃

You were in your subspace without Harry. He’d been away for a couple days now and you were dying for him to come back home. You were able to handle the first two days perfectly fine. You talked and texted with him whenever he woke up, when you were going to bed, and whenever he was free. You missed him so much, but you were able to get through it and look forward towards when he’d finally come back home to you. You were completely fine until this morning. When you woke up and talked to Harry, something clicked inside of you that sent you into a downward spiral, ending with you falling right into your subspace. Whenever you were feeling small, you were a complete mess. All you wanted to do was be with Harry. You wanted to feel and really be with him as he took care of your every need. You wanted to have all of Harry’s affection, love and attention.

For the entire day, all you did was stay in bed. The only time you got up was to shower, eat, and use the bathroom. Other than that, you were huddled up in the bed cuddling one of the fluffy pillows that you’d doused in Harry’s cologne. He made sure to leave your favorite behind whenever he left so that you could do that. You clutched at the pillow tightly as you laid there. You kept your eyes shut as you tried to focus your thoughts on Harry’s warm cuddles and kisses. You missed the way he’d drag one his large hands up and down your body as he cuddled you. You also missed the way he’d call you his sweet girl then give you sweet kisses. You wanted that all day long. You wanted him to make you feel safe and loved. You wanted to feel Harry. Your strong want and need to feel him was so deep inside of you that it even brought you to tears. You let a few fat tears seep out of your tightly sealed eyes as you laid in bed.

As the day began to really wind down and you finished eating the little something you made for yourself, it was time to head upstairs to bed. When you got upstairs, you went straight to the closet. There were two things in there that could make you feel a little better before you got on the phone to talk to Harry and went to bed. After grabbing the two items, you make your way over to the dresser to grab one more thing from the drawers before heading to the bed. Once you’re standing at the edge of your side of the bed, you drop all of the items and you begin to quickly undress yourself. You toss all of the worn clothes off your body and into a neat pile by your feet on the floor. Once you’re completely naked you reach down and you grab the light pink satin nightie Harry’d gotten for you when you two vacationed in Italy. Whenever you were feeling small and it was time for bed, this was one of the things that you’d always ask for Harry to put you in. You loved feeling like a princess, Harry’s little princess. He’d always tell you how pretty you looked in it and you loved that. You were hoping that he noticed when he FaceTimed you in a few minutes. Once the nightie is draped over your your body, you then reach for the lacy light pink panties that you grabbed from the dresser drawer and you pull them up your legs underneath the short “dress”.

Once you’re all dressed, you grab the last item from the bed and you lay down against the pillows. Once you’re comfortable, you spread your legs and lift your nightie a bit. You then hook your index finger around the crotch area of your panties, pulling them to the side to expose your pussy. You then take the hand that was holding the squishy and very realistic dildo and raise it up to your mouth. You give the toy one quick look over before sticking your tongue out and giving it a couple of licks. Once the entire shaft of toy gets a light coat, you lower it down between your legs and you line it up with your entrance. You take a final deep breath before sinking your teeth into your lower lip. You then begin to slowly insert the toy into your hole.

“Daddy!” You whimper our into the quiet room.  Your eyes are tightly sealed as you try and picture Harry pushing his cock into you. Along with feeling lonely and needy, you were also feeling a bit empty. You were feeling empty for two reasons. The first being that you weren’t getting any of the normal treatment you’d usually get when you were in your subspace. And the second, most powerful reason, was that you weren’t full with Harry’s cock. Along with the tender loving care he’d shower you with, Harry’d always make sure to give you his cock. Before you could even think to ask, he’d already be working on your panties and getting his cock out. There was something about his warm cock being deep inside your tummy while he loved on you and made the butterflies in there go wild that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You loved that. Which is why you wanted to fill yourself up with the dildo that he had specially made to simulate his cock. You absolutely loved this toy, it was squishy, long and thick just like his cocky and it even had a soft (and pretty large) pairs of balls at the base. You were hoping that this toy would do the trick in making you a little less empty. When you feel the balls against you, you stop pushing and you pull your panties back over using the finger that was still hooked around them. You always had a little trouble keeping toys in your pussy so you needed your panties to keep it inside. Once you’re all settled down there, you pull your hands back up and you get your pillows situated. You bring one down between your legs and the other (the one that smelled like Harry) to your chest to cuddle into. Once your pillows are where they need to be, and your body is turned towards the bedside table where your phone is propped up on your bottle of water, you comfortably and patiently (barely) wait for Harry’s phone call.

Luckily for you, it only takes 5 minuets for Harry to call you. And to say that you picked up in a heartbeat would be a complete understatement. You weren’t even through the first ring before you picked up.

“Hey baby” Harry coos as soon as you pick up the phone “I know that you’re about to go to sleep so I just wanted to say goodnight.”

“I miss you daddy.” You mumble softly. Hearing his voice after all the things you did to make yourself feel better made you feel even worse. You couldn’t stop yourself from telling him. You didn’t want to distract him while he was on an important trip but you just couldn’t help it.

“Oh baby, are you in your princess space?” Harry asks you concernedly. Your tone and you calling him daddy were all indicators that you were in your subspace. He could also tell from the way you were pouting at him through the camera. “How bad do you need daddy sweetheart?” Harry coos softly. His girl needed him and he was going to do everything to get to the bottom of it.

“I sprayed your pillow, I put on my nightie...” you begin, pulling back the heavily scented pillow to show him the little pink dress you had on. “And I put a toy inside.” You continue, whispering this last part.

“My poor baby!” Harry coos, you really needed him. “Daddy wishes that he was there to take care of you and I promise you that I will be home before you know it.” He promises, looking directly at your small and pouty figure through the screen.“

“I can’t wait two more days daddy, I really need you.” You softly cry out to him.

“Well luckily for you, daddy finished up everything that he has to do here and he’ll be coming home a bit early.” Harry says excitedly, trying to ease you a little bit. He wished that he could just blink and he’d be right there. But unfortunately he couldn’t.

“I can’t wait daddy!”

“Can you manage to rest those pretty eyes so that daddy can spend some time with you as soon as he gets home sweetie?” Harry continues. “And since that pretty hole of yours is nice and stuffed, you should be able to make it through the night, right?”

“It’s not you and I can’t go to sleep without you daddy.” You explain sorrowfully.

“Would you go to sleep if daddy made his princess cum? I know you always get sleepy whenever your pretty little cunt cums.” Harry offers. And as soon as he does, you’re quickly nodding your head yes. “Alright baby, just relax and do everything I tell you.” Harry chuckles are your eagerness.

“Yes daddy!” You comply excitedly.

“Alright sweet girl. Now bring one of your hands down between your legs.” Harry instructs, prompting you to spread your legs and bring your hand down there.

“Know you cant hold it inside all by yourself so pull those panties to the side.” He chuckles, continuing his instructions.

“What now daddy?”

“Show daddy.” He simply instructs, prompting you to reach over towards the bedside table and grab your phone. You the. Bring it down between your legs so show him that you’ve followed his instructions. When the camera is between your legs, he can see the dildo resting inside of you while your panties are pulled to the side and are held there by the base of the toy that was poking out a bit. “Good girl. Now start moving it in and out baby.” Harry furthers his instructions through a huff. He couldn’t get enough of the sight. Even though it was nothing like seeing and doing this in person, the sight before him was amazing. You were all subby, looking absolutely adorable and stunning, and you were touching yourself per his instructions. It was amazing. So amazing that his cock began to stir in his pants.

“Feels so good daddy!” You whine loudly, continuing to follow his instruction. As you moved the dildo in and out, you could feel the veins of it rubbing back and forth against your walls. And on top of that, you could feel the dildo pushing into the pit of your tummy where the butterflies were fluttering faster and getting warmer.

“Drop the phone and play with those pretty tits.” Harry groans. He couldn’t stop himself from palming his ever growing cock. Hearing and seeing you do this was getting to Harry and he was definitely going to take care of himself once you were settled.

While you continue to thrusting the toy inside of your weepy and sopping wet hole, you let go of your phone and rested it against the crevice of your slightly bent knee. Fortunately, this allowed hardy to keep watching as you touched yourself.

“My tummy’s starting to burn daddy.” You cry out to him. You could feel your entire body warming up. The butterflies were pulsating at this point and you felt like you were ready to explode.

“Speed that hand up and play with those perky little nipples princess.” Harry grumbles through the phone. Your nipples were beyond sensitive and your hand was going as fast as it could. The fierce tingling sensation in your chest mixed with the throbbing and pulsating between your legs created the perfect storm for your release.

Harry could see your legs quaking and he could see your hand becoming staggered as you tried to continue thrusting the toy into your cunt. He could even see a little bit of your hand moving feverishly against your chest beneath your nightie. He could tell that you were going to explode. And it was going to be big.

“Cum babygirl.” Harry grunts, continuing to touch himself and watch/instruct you. And with that, you came.

“Oh my- fuck!” You cry out as you completely let go. As you release, you not only cum but you also squirt. It felt so good to just let go and cum. And squirt.

“Feels so good.” You slur happily after you come down from your high.

“I bet it did, now get some rest babydoll.” Harry chuckles softly.

“I love you daddy.” You hum, reaching down to grab your phone.

“I love you too baby. Now get some rest, daddy’s gonna see you tomorrow morning.” Harry coos to you.

Before hanging up, Harry watches as you turn out the lamp and cuddle up into the pillow that smelled like him before drifting off to sleep.

Even though you terribly missed Harry, you were going to be able to sleep peacefully until he got back.

Masterlist

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #my harry writing #concepts of h #harrywritingsbyme

[renaerys]

22. for reds 🤡

This is 100% not what you asked for (yet...👀), but I give you part 1 of what we're calling the Weird King AU. I'm turning this into a proper multi-chapter High School fic because I love you and I'd jump on any bandwagon for you.

xxx

Like most young, conventionally attractive Supervillains, Brick had made a bit of a habit of failing upwards. It was pretty easy in a town full of simpering morons content to project their own narrative assumptions onto him, and who was he to crush their dreams when they made his life a little easier?

For example, dating.

“You can tell me, you know.” His cute date, Tracy, sipped her milkshake across from him.

“Tell you what?”

She softened and reached her hand across the table. “Your tragic backstory. I’ll listen without judgment, I promise.”

Brick tried to think of something tragic, but it all seemed pretty underwhelming as far as Supervillain origin stories went. “You mean like how I was born in a toilet?”

She made an oh shape with her lips. “We all have those days where we feel like we were born in a toilet, Brick.”

He’d dated Tracy for three months before she broke up with him out of the blue in tears: sorry she couldn’t fix his baggage, she just wasn’t strong enough to handle all that tortured darkness, but she wished him nothing but health and happiness. Brick deleted her number from his phone and spent twenty whole minutes staring at the toilet in his bathroom, wondering what the lesson here was.

But everything changed when Mojo got out of prison and moved Brick and his brothers back to Townsville, where he enrolled them in the local high school alongside their former arch nemeses, the Powerpuff Girls.

Suddenly, everything Brick did pre-supposed ill intent. These people remembered him as the pest who had graffitied their local monuments and blown up their cars and endangered their children. They held no love for him, and at best they feared him. This was not Citiesville, where he’d been a tall, cold glass of Voss water in a sea of recycled Dasani.

He found himself thinking about his birthing toilet again as he stepped into the cafeteria alone and the conversation quieted down as his new classmates watched him from the safety of their tables. His next moves here were critical. He was no longer at the top of the food chain, but fear and mystery surrounding his origins and character gave him a certain power over his peers.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of social suicide, I will fear no cringe,” he said to himself.

The jocks were out. Capable though he may be, Brick was not much of a team player unless there was a blood contract involved requiring his participation on pain of satanic torture. The drama kids were also a hard pass, not because he thought drama was lame, but because they had barely noticed him walk in, and Brick did not have the energy to deal with people more self-involved than himself. Some of the unaffiliated tables could be safe, but without a good understanding of the nuanced social dynamics in the high school, he could be heading toward irreversible doom, and that was a risk he was not willing to take.

He saw his salvation just ahead. It was the only option, all else being equal. In an environment where he couldn’t be certain of his baseline status and potential for upward mobility, there was greatness to be had only by association and certainty only in the devil he knew.

Brick helped himself to the empty seat directly across from Blossom Utonium to a chorus of gasps and staring.

Blossom did not startle like her table mates had. She watched him critically behind a head full of bangs as she balanced her soup spoon in her hand. “Really.”

Brick unwrapped the burrito he’d purchased in the lunch line and brandished it before him. “Really.”

He took a bite of the burrito. It was not hot enough. The two girls to Blossom’s left whispered to each other about that bad boy and he’s hot, though.

Blossom daintily spooned soup into her mouth without spilling a single drop as she continued to watch Brick for signs of his imminent dark side transformation.

The guy next to Brick was brave enough to ask him what his next class was. Brick had a mouth full of disappointing burrito, so he passed the guy the printout of his class schedule in lieu of answering.

“Wow, all APs, huh? Hey, we’re in U.S. History together next period, nice. I’m Mike Believe, by the way. Brick Jojo, right?”

Brick didn’t answer him immediately on account of the burrito currently occupying his mouth hole, and Mike took it the wrong way.

“Oh, yeah, we all know who you are. Blossom sort of filled us in.” He winced like he’d inadvertently revealed a terrible secret.

Brick swallowed his food and washed it down with a gulp of water. “Saves me some time.”

Mike looked super relieved. “For sure! Hey, I could lend you my notes if you want to catch up. Gershwin’s giving a quiz on the Progressive Era on Friday, and she’s a hard-ass who definitely won’t care that you just transferred…”

Brick chewed on his lunch as Mike continued to talk at him about classes and other vaguely helpful, albeit uninteresting, information. But Mike seemed normal enough, a little chatty but not in an overeager sort of way. Blossom was no longer clocking his every move and seemed to be absorbed in her friend’s latest swim team cheating scandal, until Brick reached for his water bottle and she suddenly laser-focused on his wandering hand.

Her keen attention to him was honestly flattering, if expected. It was in his nature to be noticed, and in this narrow respect she was no different from anyone else whose head he turned. If she chose to feed her interest with the flames of suspicion, then it was no difference to him.

But if she was anything like him—and on a chemical level she was probably the closest to him that a person could get—he suspected it took tremendous effort to hold her full and sustained attention. The world they inhabited was as vapid and mundane as the humans that surrounded them, and even the most gracious of gods grew bored of worship. Which explained all the smiting and fucking and generational curses upon entire households in everything from Greek mythology to the Old Testament.

Brick was pretty deep into a fantasy of Blossom going full Ixion and the Wheel on the swim team when Mike tapped his shoulder. “You ready to go?”

It took him a moment to realize the bell had rung and he had a class to get to—AP U.S. History with Mike, apparently. Brick gathered his tray and his bag and followed Mike. When he looked back at the table, Blossom was already gone.

xxx

That whole first week was painfully boring. No one bullied him, or pranked him, or picked a fight with him, of course. But no one really approached him, either. His brothers were more determined to make an effort. Boomer announced he was trying out for the soccer team because there was no rule saying a Super with extremely well documented ties to active criminals and the forces of Hell couldn’t kick a ball around a field. Butch had gotten himself invited to a midnight screening of Snakes on a Plane in some rich kid’s home movie theater, but only after that same kid had accidentally spilled milk on Butch and burst into tears in front of a cafeteria full of Juniors and Seniors. Brick declined the invitation Butch extended to him. He had that AP U.S. History exam to study for on Friday, anyway.

He shared all of his classes with Blossom. Even in the classes where her assigned seat was behind his and he couldn’t see her, he could feel her lobotomizing stare at the back of his head whenever she glanced up from her notebook. And while Mike’s notes were perfectly adequate and the friendly gesture counted for more than the content (a gesture Brick would not soon forget), there was a far more efficient way to accomplish his goal of murdering the class averages while also taking the edge off his loner doldrums.

“Can I borrow your class notes?”

Blossom rose from her seat and pulled her hair tie out to re-do her extremely long ponytail. She held the elastic between her teeth as she worked. Her teeth were very straight, he noticed. Some pretty nice girl-teeth, generally speaking.

“Which class?”

“All of them.”

He watched her wind the elastic around her hair with quick, adroit fingers. “That’s a lot of notes.”

“You’re the top of every class. No point in asking anyone else.”

She moved toward the hall. He followed her out. “Why would I help you?”

A legitimate question delivered without venom. Unlike her sister Buttercup, who’d “run into” Brick after school on Monday and told him to watch his back, Blossom didn’t have to do anything but maintain a general proximity to make her superiority complex known. Which was the kind of flex he could fuck with.

“Isn’t helping people sort of your mandate?”

They had arrived at her locker, which she opened with enough force to rattle the hinges. “I help the helpless. Are you helpless, Brick?”

Brick smiled at her baiting. Had she ever actually said his name at a normal volume before? It sounded good even in her baseline bitch timbre. “Critically helpless. I’m the new student who transferred in the middle of the semester, and you’re the only person who knows me.”

A couple other students clearly trying to get to the lockers Brick was blocking hovered just out of reach. They whispered to each other, but neither of them actually worked up the courage to ask Brick to move. He ignored them.

Blossom rummaged in her locker for the binder she would need for the next class. “Make friends.”

“Working on it.”

The locker door slammed and she faced him. There was something confrontational in the way she held herself before him that kicked him in the nuts back in time thirteen years to their more uncouth days when all he wanted to do was destroy her so he’d be the only one. Now they were older and wiser and he actually did need her notes to study, so destroying her was not high on his list of priorities.

“You want to be my friend.”

“We have so much in common.”

“So do lions and hyenas.”

“Both are apex predators, so.”

She took a step closer and peered up at him. Brick did not move, although he wondered what was so interesting about his face. She probably just thought he was hot. She was probably as bored as he was. She probably—

“You have lettuce in your teeth.”

Brick pulled back and covered his mouth on instinct. God fucking damnit.

Blossom was already walking away from him by the time he’d picked the food from his teeth. “I’ll expect my notes back in mint condition before first period tomorrow morning.”

Brick pressed a fist against the lockers and quietly fumed. “Dumbass…”

“Um, sorry, but do you mind…?”

The student who’d been waiting for her locker space to clear up had her palms up as if to assuage a feral stray. Brick pushed off the lockers, but his fist left a dent where he’d unleashed some of his impotent self-pity. He looked back at the girl, and she shook her head.

“It’s fine! It, uh, it happens sometimes.” She pointed a couple lockers down to Blossom’s, which was dinged up worse than the others.

Brick stared at Blossom’s locker, and then back at the girl. Her narrow, dark eyes were wide, but not out of fear. She was waiting for something, and like an idiot it took him a moment to catch up. “You’re trying to make me feel better about fucking up your locker.”

She laughed nervously. “I mean, it’s really fine! You just looked so miserable for a second there, and I just thought…”

Great, he was moping so hard he had an audience.

The five minute warning bell rang, and a flood of students rushed past them on their way to fourth period. Brick stepped aside so the girl could get to her locker.

“Hey, you’re the new guy, right?”

The new guy, yeah. How quaint. Except, she was waiting for a response, which wasn’t the absolute worst thing that had happened to him all week.

“Brick,” he said. But of course, she already knew that, and she was just being nice.

“I’m Kim. Kim Chan.”

“Okay.” He didn’t have anything else to say to her, so he decided to get his shit and get to his next class.

“Welcome back to Townsville, Brick.”

Brick shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked off. It didn’t occur to him until later that Kim was the first and only person who had properly welcomed him back home.

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #blossick #ppg reds #ppg blossom #ppg brick #september fic prompts #weird king au #i have no idea what i will call this yet #but it'll make its way to AO3 and it'll be a Thing #i have to think of themes and shit now #i came here to shit post and here we are with another full on Reds fic

[unforth]

Ko-Fi Commission for Diminuel

@diminuel here you go love! <3 (sorry it’s not Naga Dean, I got it written before I saw your reply)

Fandom: Supernatural

Ship: Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Tags: A/B/O dynamics, canon adjacent, omega bottom Cas, alpha top Dean, mutual pining and idiots kinda sorta using their words, heat, mentions of Dean/Kevin (in a platonic “alpha helping an omega friend through a heat” way.)

Word count: 1,646 words.

Read on AO3 or read more...(ugh Tumblr is being impossible about formatting sorry it ate all the italics, sigh...you’re probably better off just reading it on AO3)

“Where is he?” Dean demanded, slamming open the door of bunker library and storming into the room. 

Startled, Sam jumped up from his chair, hand reaching for a pistol he didn’t actually have at his side when they were at the Bunker, and then relaxed. “Who, Cas? How did you kn--?”

“No, I mean the fucking Easter Bunny - of course I mean Cas!” Anger and arousal and anger about the arousal simmered beneath Dean’s skin. “And he’s been lighting my phone up with texts like you wouldn’t believe.” This was all wrong. “I didn’t even know he knew how to use the goddamn camera on his phone, much less how to send me a dick pic.” Cas didn’t - couldn’t - want Dean. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Oh, um.” Swallowing, Sam looked away, cheeks flushing. “Maybe you should, uh...I mean, he’s in his room. I thought you two…”

Dean glared, eyes narrowing. “We...what?” 

Come on, Sammy, I dare you to say you legit thought we were a couple, when you know better. He’s a fucking angel, and I’m a fucking mess, and he’d never…

“Nothing! I...look, Dean, I’m not involved. I offered, but he said it had to be you, so...go.”

...I’d never…

“What had to be me?!”

...that’s a total lie, I would if there was even a prayer that he’d want…

“Just go,” ordered Sam, gesturing toward the door and dropping back into his chair to hunch over whatever esoteric nonsense he was reading today.

...but he never would.

Grumbling, Dean obeyed, leaving the library and navigating the tunnels of the Bunker. His nose tickled, an unfamiliar scent permeating the air, and he tried to place it. It smelled a little like Charlie, with the soothing aspect of her betaness easing Dean’s tension even when he didn’t want his tension eased. It smelled a little like Kevin, especially that one annoying time he’d gone into heat, spicy and clinging and inescapable. It didn’t smell like Cas, who never smelled like anything. Jimmy had been an omega, Dean thought, but if Cas had a presentation type, Dean had never caught a whiff of it.

It smelled good, tempting, taunting. An itch teased down Dean’s spine, a whisper of desire thickening his dick.

It smelled wrong, like it didn’t belong, like Dean shouldn’t be following it.

Except he had to check on Cas.

Except the scent intensified the closer he drew to Cas’ room.

Except that Dean didn’t think he could stop himself pursuing the source of that enticing aroma if his life fucking depended on it.

Finally, he stood before Cas’ door. The mystery aroma suffused the air, and the explicit selfies Cas had sent him suggested intriguing possibilities, and Dean stood there, paralyzed.

If he added all the pieces up, it was hard to imagine anything other than that, somehow, Cas was an omega and had gone into heat.

And, if that was the case...the last thing Dean should be doing was knocking on that door.

Cas did not want Dean...but apparently, when he was in heat, maybe he did. Dean would never be that alpha. He would never--

“Dean?” Cas’ shout, frantic and deep and raspy and fucking sex incarnate, was barely muffled by the door. “Dean, you came! Please...oh, please…”

“Yeah,” Dean replied, heart aching. “I’m here.” He should walk away. “But I can’t…”

“I know,” Cas moaned, the scent intensifying. “...I know, I know, you don’t want...I mean...but…” The air was awash with musk and a heavy scent like a thick fog descending, and Dean’s erection stiffened. “...but just this once...please…”

Catching a lip between his teeth, Dean furious debated in his head as Cas continued to beg. On the one hand, Dean was never one to take advantage of an omega in heat. On the other hand, there was a world of difference between scenting a stranger and getting a dumbass alpha boner, and helping a friend through a difficult time. When Kevin had been desperate, Dean had offered himself up, after all...consent was a bitch in cases like those but friends were friends, and working it out after the fact was a time honored tradition...if Dean went in and helped Cas, it wouldn’t be any different.

“...Dean, I’m begging...I need you so badly...need you...only you…”

Right. Not a bit of difference. Nope. Not like Kevin really is just a friend, whereas Cas is…

“...I’ll do anything…”

...is everything...

“...I’m so hot…”

...is nothing...nothing to me...we’re nothing to each other…there’s nothing between us...

“I can’t,” Dean muttered, hoping like hell Cas could hear him, hoping like hell Cas couldn’t hear him and might stop babbling enticingly long enough for Dean to escape. “Cas...look...I get you feel all...some kinda way...right now...but you don’t actually…” Dean laid an arm over the door, leaned his forehead against it, and took a deep breath despite himself. “...you don’t actually want me…” 

Fuck, Cas smelled amazing.

“I do!” said Cas frantically. “I do, please - I need you.” He sounded like he was sobbing, and Dean’s heart could have broken - he wanted to help so badly, wanted to believe Cas so, so badly. 

But...

“...you don’t…”

...he couldn’t.

“I’ll show you!”

Surprised, Dean took a step back from the door and blinked as if the dull gray would tell him what the fuck Cas meant.

Naw, don’t need X-Ray vision to know what he means. He’s horny, and of course between Sam and I’d pick me, I’m hung, and Sam’s a little bitch. When I open this door, he’ll be on his bed, presenting a slick hole, and if my willpower doesn’t snap it’ll be a fucking miracle.

“Please!”

And even knowing all that, Dean couldn’t resist the desperate catch in Cas’ voice.

Fuck, but Dean was gonna hate himself when this was over.

Fuck, but I already hate myself…

With a resigned sigh, Dean pushed the door open and stared.

He’d been partially right - Cas was on the bed presenting a slick hole.

The wings were a surprise, though.

And Cas’ scent was fucking insane, powerful, unearthly, drawing Dean into the room like a siren’s call. He’d heard some nonsense about how a true mate might smell and had never believed a lick of it, and he didn’t believe it now, no matter how amazing Cas smelled, no matter how drawn to him Dean felt - this had to be some bizarre angel mojo, no “meant to be” involved, for all that Cas moaned like a damn pornstar when the first gust of Dean’s scent swept before him into the room. There was no fucking way this was Jimmy’s humanity at work. This was pure angel grace insanity, complete with black feathers, and Dean wanted...Dean needed…

“Bedside table!” Cas gasped, craning his neck to look back at Dean. His eyes were wide, his pupils blown, his cheeks coated with sweat and tears.

Who’d’a thought Cas would have protection next to the bed...good thinking though, I’m about 2.3 seconds from sinking in balls deep, and--

Dean tugged the drawer open.

There weren’t any condoms in the drawer.

There was a book with a leather cover and all the hallmarks of being a journal. 

“Read it - please read it - and then help me, if you still want to - I’ll understand if you don’t - but I need...need...and it can only be you, it has to be you, has to be…” Cas’ supplications dissolved into sobs as, confused, Dean withdrew the book and leafed through the pages…

...Dean, it said on one page...my mortal love, it said on another...anything for him, it said on yet another...doesn’t want me, on another page...here for him no matter what, on another...don’t need more than this, on another...but I want him, on another...page upon page of devotion and care written in Cas’ unmistakable neat handwriting.

Impossible.

The book dropped from Dean’s numbed fingers.

He can’t want me.

He can’t think I don’t want him.

“Dean!”

He couldn’t possibly…

Slowly, Dean turned toward the bed. Cas panted desperately, rocking back against nothing, eyes fixed on Dean...no, fixed on the bulge in Dean’s pants, his gaze was definitely directed down with the look of a starving man...and Dean stared.

...why would he…

“...need you…” Cas whimpered pathetically.

...but he does.

Certain this must be a dream, Dean crossed the scant steps separating them, fumbling hands undoing his belt on the first step, letting his pants drop on the second, stepping out of them on the third and fourth, and then he was beside the bed, and Cas was displayed before him like a banquet, and Dean’s cock was so hard it ached, and the scent of angel heat made him dizzy, and there was nothing, nothing between them except years of devotion and uncountable words of near-confessions that never said everything and desperation and pining and need and devotion…

...there was nothing between them, not a shred of cloth, not a single inhibition, not a hint of uncertainty.

Dean climbed onto the bed.

Though...they would have a fuckton to talk about once Cas’ heat was over.

Or it’s a dream, and I’ll wake up...either way, awkward feels talks can wait...hell, they can wait forever if I’m lucky...and Cas needs me now.

“Don’t worry,” murmured Dean as he pushed forward and the head of his dick breached that perfect, tight pucker for the first time. “I’ll take care of you.”

Everything could wait until Cas was sated - until Dean had been the alpha that Cas deserved.

“I know you will,” Cas whispered, rocking back against him. “You always do...always...always…”

Yes, Cas...always...always here for you...always your alpha...always your Dean…

...always yours.

#unforth writes #spn #destiel #lemon #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #bottom castiel #omega castiel #top dean #alpha dean

[lost-andfound]

CARRY ON (How Supernatural Should Have Ended)

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28041390 

INT. VAMP NEST BARN. NIGHT.

A VAMPIRE has just impaled DEAN on a nail. It is suggested that he is about to die. There are two flickering light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. The barn looks uncannily similar to the barn in which Dean and CASTIEL first met.

Dean chokes, blood pooling from his mouth. His eyes are glassy and fighting to stay open. SAM’s eyes are filled with tears--he can’t believe it.

DEAN (coughing, trying to speak through the pain) I thought— dammit, man, I thought this was our chance. A chance at a real life.

SAM (truly, genuinely, painfully) I’m sorry.

Sam’s hand hovers around the wound, as if trying to cure it. Dean shakes his head. He doesn’t want to die, but he’s past the point of no return.

DEAN (gently) Sammy— everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve lost— I’m glad it was with you.

SAM (starting to panic) No, Dean, no—

DEAN (breathing slower, but doing his best to look his brother in the eyes) I didn’t wanna die. I didn’t. Promise me you know that.

Sam nods. He can’t speak. He wishes— he prays— but no one comes. Dean’s head goes slack in Sam’s hand. His eyes are empty. He’s dead. The camera PANS slowly to Sam’s stunned face.

SAM Dean. (He waits for an answer, but none comes.) Dean, please.

Behind, there is a flutter of wings. The light bulbs blow out, glass shattering on the ground. Sam freezes, hoping against all odds—

CASTIEL (firmly, as if with all the power of Heaven on his side) No one dies today.

Without further ado, he grasps Dean’s body and pulls him off the nail. Sam winces at the sound, but Castiel does not flinch. He grips Dean by the shoulder and puts his hand over the wound. An unearthly blue light— the light of angelic Grace— flows from his hands, shines from his eyes. It is not the healing we’ve seen before— this power seems to come from the deepest part of Cas himself.

A beat. Sam stares, tense, hoping. Cas steps back, and Dean gasps.

SAM (with deep relief) Thank God.

DEAN (exhausted, yet still wise-cracking) That asshole ain’t to thank for this one, Sammy.

He sways, and Sam rushes to hold him up. Dean looks at Cas, who is, as usual, unreadable.

CAS Hello, Dean.

DEAN (softer) Cas. Jesus, you’re— you’re here.

CAS (with a slight smile, hardly believing it himself) Jack. He came for me.

Dean’s smile falters. He glances at Sam— they both feel guilty for leaving Cas behind. Castiel catches this look, and is about to speak, but winces. A curl of blue Grace floats from his mouth, winding into the air and vanishing like smoke.

SAM (concerned) Cas— are you okay?

Cas stumbles, falling to brace himself on the wall. Both Sam and Dean reach out to grab his arms on either side.

CAS (looking between them, suddenly weak) I think— I think I’m falling again.

BLACKOUT.

END OF ACT TWO

ACT THREE

INT. BUNKER - KITCHEN - MORNING

With a WIDE SHOT, we see that Dean is making eggs this time, with less spirit than the last morning. He slices peppers and onions with precision, but we can tell that he is worried, his brow furrowing as he sprinkles them in the pan.

Sam sits at the table, flipping through a huge, ancient tome. A stack of books rests next to him, waiting to be studied. Cas is not at the table, a noted absence.

Dean flips the omelet off the pan and onto a plate, setting it in front of Sam, who barely looks up.

DEAN (demanding) So?

SAM (looking up apologetically) I don’t know. I think it’s something to do with The Empty— sapping his grace, somehow. Saving you probably took a lot of mojo.

DEAN (muttering sarcastically, as usual) Great.

INT. CASTIEL’S ROOM

Castiel sleeps, his face serene. Morning light spills in through the window, the drapes gently fluttering. It’s a beautiful scene, almost like a painting. The song “THANK YOU” by Led Zeppelin begins to PLAY. PAN TO Dean in the doorway, awkwardly holding a plate of eggs and mug of black coffee. Dean’s face is softer than we’ve seen it in a long time. He hesitates, not wanting to disturb his friend.

CAS (sleepily) Dean?

The music fades, but remains in the background of the scene.

DEAN (gruffly) Mornin’, sunshine.

Dean moves to sit on the bed, a respectful distance away from Castiel. He sets the plate and mug on the bedside table. Castiel shifts into a sitting position. Dean looks at Cas, and we think he is about to speak— he thinks he is about to speak— but he remains silent. Cas merely looks back at him, at the face he thought he’d never see again. The awkwardness is mostly on Dean’s side, which is not a surprise. Castiel seems content to merely look.

DEAN (eventually) So, are you… human now? For real this time?

CAS (eyes flickering briefly) Yes. I believe so.

DEAN (gearing himself up to be angry, to find a solution) Okay. Well— we’ll fix it. Find some spare grace, find a spell to restore your grace, whatever. We always do.

CAS (sighing) Dean—

DEAN (a little heat to his voice) Dammit, Cas, let us help you. You saved my skin at the cost of your own for the hundredth time and— and I won’t let you do that. Not again. No one dies this time, remember?

CAS Dean, you’re not gonna find anything. Not this time. And I’m— (he pauses, smiling slightly. He looks calm, at peace.) I’m happy. And I can say that now, without fear. I can feel. That’s all I’ve wanted, for so long.

There is a pause. Dean swipes a hand over his face and shifts closer on the bed. There is so much left unsaid, between these two, and it hangs heavy in the air.

Dean (voice ragged) Cas. What you said. Before the Empty took you.

CAS (steadily, without hesitation) I meant it.

DEAN I’ve wanted to say it back. For so long, Cas. But I— I didn’t think— I mean, you were an angel, and there was Lisa, then Purgatory, and the Mark, and Chuck, and everything against us— it was never right, and I never thought you felt— (he breaks off, swallowing.) I never thought you could. Love me, I mean.

Cas says nothing, but laces his fingers with Dean’s. Dean looks down, stunned, then back up at Castiel’s face.

CAS But I do. Against all odds, I do.

Dean kisses him. “Thank You” by Led Zeppelin resumes. Cas pulls him in, closer. It is a beautiful, tender kiss, a movie kiss. After a moment, they break apart, still holding hands.

DEAN (slightly embarrassed, yet as unguarded as we’ve ever seen him) I love you too, Cas. I always have— you’re family.

CAS (softly, as if this moment is one he could break) So what now?

DEAN (his voice opening, finally, into hope) The rest of our lives, man. Everything that comes after.

PAN OUT, as they move into a tight, intimate hug. They’re family. The camera moves from them to the window. The curtains. The soft light outside.

INT. BUNKER - KITCHEN

Sam sits at the table, hands in his hair, still poring over the books. His plate is empty— Dean is a good cook. He is unaware of the conversation his brothers are having inside Castiel’s room. There is a CRASH. Sam sits instantly alert— there are those killer instincts. He grabs a gun and creeps slowly towards the entrance, where he finds… EILEEN. She stands at the entrance, confused, looking around. Sam keeps the gun trained on her, grief and rage and confusion flitting across his face.

EILEEN Sam?

SAM (speaking with certainty) You’re not her. You can’t be her. No one ever really comes back, no one that I— that I—

EILEEN Sam, it’s me. I promise.

She pulls out a silver knife, slashes it on her arm. She lets Sam pour some holy water on her hand. She goes through every test, staring at Sam’s face, willing him to believe her.

SAM (disbelieving) Holy crap. It’s you. It’s really you.

EILEEN (smiling) Duh.

Sam sweeps her into his arms, as if he’ll never let her go. She holds onto him just as tightly. In the same moment, they both realize how lucky they are to be here, together.

“CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON” begins to PLAY.

CUT TO MONTAGE:

Dean hunting with Charlie and Cas, watching their backs as they move through a dark tunnel.

Sam and Eileen sharing a beer as they watch a movie, the lights flickering on their faces.

Dean throwing popcorn and Monopoly pieces at Sam, chasing him around the living room as Sam raises his arms in protest.

Cas and Dean washing dishes together, bumping shoulders and hands, smiling.

Eileen holding a newborn child as Dean, Sam, and Cas all crowd around her— someone takes a picture.

PAN UP from that picture on a table to an older Sam, reading in the study while his son reads next to him, a picture of his father.

Cas playing catch in the yard with Claire, who is clearly indulging him. His brow furrows as he drops the ball again and again, Dean laughing from the porch.

An older Dean finally perfecting his pie recipe, passing the plate around the dinner table, looking pleased with himself. Contented.

Sam’s son goes off to college, and Dean takes a breath, and claps a hand on his shoulder. Smiles proudly at him.

Finally, Dean in a hospital bed, surrounded by his family. He grasps Sam’s hand, looks at Cas like he’s trying to memorize his face. They are all old. They are all satisfied with their lives. Dean smiles, closes his eyes.

BLACKOUT. Heart monitor FLATLINES.

ACT FOUR

EXT. BOBBY’S FARM - PORCH. LATE SUMMER.

The field is golden and beautiful, yet as ragged as Dean remembers it. BOBBY SINGER sits on his rocking chair, beer in hand. Dean walks up to the porch. He takes his time— he has all the time in the world, after all.

BOBBY (fondly) Took you long enough, boy.

DEAN (looking around, smiling slightly) Had a life to live.

Bobby grunts, motions for Dean to sit down next to him. He hands him a beer from the cooler.

DEAN Thought you’d be able to magic yourself one of those from thin air, up here. Service not working lately?

BOBBY More authentic this way. (pause) Heaven’s better now, actually. You saw the old version— it’s not like that up here anymore.

DEAN How’s that?

BOBBY That kid of yours: Jack. He made it so you’re not just trapped in old memories— you can go anywhere, see anyone. (another pause— he knows how much this means to Dean) Anyone.

DEAN (swallowing— this is difficult, painful) Even—

BOBBY (more gently) They’re just up the road. (He takes a sip of his beer.) You have a lot to talk out. Bad memories to work through. But you can do it, with time. Work it all out.

DEAN I hope so, Bobby. I think so.

Pause. Something catches Dean’s eye. PAN OUT to the road— to the IMPALA, shiny as the day she came off the line.

DEAN (reverently) They brought my Baby.

BOBBY (looking at him like a father looks at his son) Go. They’ll wait.

Dean smiles, as big as we’ve ever seen, like a kid on Christmas. Driving down an empty highway, with nothing to do, nowhere to go. His favorite.

Dean turns on the car, smiles nostalgically, and flips on the radio. “HEY JUDE” by The Beatles begins to PLAY.

As the song plays, Dean sees people standing by the road— old friends, old lovers, old rivals, old members of his family. There is CHARLIE, waving frantically, a grinning KEVIN by her side. There are JO and ELLEN and ASH in the Roadhouse, bickering among themselves. There are MARY and JOHN, young lovers again, looking at each other with hope in their eyes. There is PAMELA, there is JODY, LISA, JESS, countless others they’ve loved and lost. JACK even blips in to wave hello.

And then, as the song concludes, Dean pulls to a stop. At the end of the road is Cas, and Sam standing behind him, waiting. They stand on a bridge that stretches over a river. The sun is just beginning to set. Dean gets out of the car, closing Baby gently.

DEAN Miss me?

SAM (rolling his eyes fondly) Shut up.

DEAN (brief confusion) So? Where’s everyone else?

SAM They’ll be here soon.

CAS They have some more living to do.

Dean nods, and turns to gaze out over the bridge. Cas slips a hand into his, and they stand together, looking at the sunset, breaking gold and crimson rays over the water, finally calm, finally peaceful.

BLACKOUT.

CARRY ON WAYWARD SON begins to PLAY again as the credits roll.

THE END.

#supernatural #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #Sam Winchester #supernatural fanfiction #carry on #IT'S FUCK THE CW FOREVER #mine #writing #script #supernatural finale

[aclosetfan]

This is a really incomplete idea BUT it’s about Brick’s hat(s). And hopefully someone else finds this and enjoys it! More under the cut, it’s a long post :)

I think it’d be funny if boomer and butch get him a shitty novelty hat for birthday/holidays/etc because 1) they don’t know what to get him 2) they’re like 12 with four buck to their names. so they just go from charity shop to charity shop looking for ideas. Brick probably doesn’t ask for much (I don’t think any of them do. poor kid syndrome amiright? I personally never think they’d be well off in childhood).

So anyway butch and boomer are bumming through the charity shops and boomers like:

“Holy shit, Butch!”

“Wut?” Butch looked over pulling the charred and ruined Halloween mask that someone had donated for god knows what reason off his head.

“Dude it’s perfect!” Boomer came running from three aisle over, waving a garment around in the air.

“It’s a hat.” Butch pointed out bluntly, unimpressed, and pointed to the mask atop his head, “I think we should get this.”

“But it’s red!”

“He’s got one of those. Wears it frequently.”

“But not like this!” Boomer boosted, “See.”

Boomer turned the hat around, so Butch could see the bill of it. It was one of those novelty snapbacks, inscribed on the front was the playboy bunny logo.

“Dude.” Butch smiled, giggling with Boomer, albeit a little nervously.

He was familiar with the playboy bunnies work, it wasn’t like he was a virgin or anything (except he secretly was), but he had never actually seen a genuine centerfold spread like some of the older boys at the detention hall had talked about. When he thought of playboy, he thought of the Victoria Secret models he saw plastered to the side of the store at the mall. They made him feel weird and his hands would get all sweaty, so he tried his best not to look too closely.

“Dude we should get him this!” Boomer continued to smile, “It’d be, like, so funny.”

“Yeah.” Butch nodded, as his smile grew. He didn’t 100% get why it was so funny, but the idea of having something with the playboy bunny logo on it seemed cool to him. It made him feel kind of like one of the older boys.

Him and Boomer snickered all the way to the cash register, and when it was their turn to pay, Boomer nudged him ahead, ducking behind him with a giggle. He glared at his brother over his shoulder, but allowed Boomer to twist a nervous hand into the fabric of his oversized sweater (the one his brothers had bought him last year. They bought it 3 sizes too big cause he kept growing out of everything too fast. It was 1 size too big now). Boomer liked latching onto their sleeves when he got nervous.

He didn’t get what the big baby was so nervous about though. They were just buying a stupid hat. The lady cashier watched them with thinly veiled boredom and Butch threw the hat down on the counter.

Raising a penciled on eyebrow, the older women examined the hat, “Playboy, huh? You even know what Playboy is kid?”

The question made the back of his neck burn. He had never heard a lady say playboy before, it was weird. From behind him, Boomer pressed his face into the back of his sweater to muffle another giggle.

“Uh, duh.” He sniffed, “We know, lady.”

“Have you actually seen a playboy before?” The cashier snorted, ringing them up, “Not just the logo?”

“Yes!” Butch huffed, defending himself, “The Internet!”

(It was a semi-lie—they had tried looking it up on the internet, but Fuzzy didn’t have a computer at his cabin, HIM wouldn’t let them use any of his flashy spy monitors, Mojo was lame, and the library had parent controls)

“Surreee.” The lady drawled out and rang them up, “Dollar fifty.”

He didn’t make eye contact with her as he handed over a crumpled dollar bill and took two quarters from the take-a-penny-leave-a-penny. When she gave them back the hat, they ran out of the store like they had committed a bank robbery.

When Brick opened the present two days later, he threw the plastic bag it had come in to the side and frowned.

“A new hat?”

“Yeah,” Boomer nodded, putting down the cheap Polaroid camera Butch and Brick had shoplifted from a secondhand shop downtown (still too expensive to actually buy), and reached for the hat, turning it around in Brick’s hand, “but look!”

Brick’s smile grew, as the logo registered in his head. “Oh, shit,” their brother laughed, “is this playboy?”

“Betcha you won’t wear it.” He goaded his brother on as he tossed the new (used—looked like it was taken from Pokay High’s sports department) rugby ball from hand to hand.

“Betcha I will.” Brick shot back, carefully removing the ratty cap he had had since forever and replacing it with the new one.

“Sorta big.” Their brother murmured, adjusting the strap.

“Your fat head will grow into it!” Butch joked and Brick punched his arm.

“Shut up, dipshit.”

“Do you like it?” Boomer beamed, ignoring the bickering.

Brick looked at their brother with a smile, precious anger dissipating, “Yeah, dude, it’s funny.”

———————————————————

Then it becomes a thing//like Brick really loves his hat collection:

“Truckin’ ain’t easy.” Brick read out loud with a snort, and replaced the hat he was wearing with the new one.

He thought for a moment then shook his head no, “nah. Not today.”

He had so many hats to chose from, it was almost overwhelming. They were all basically offensive on every level and he tried to wear them all as often as possible. The highlight reel included:

Kitty gang

Swag.

Yolo.

Lmao.

Weed jokes. Lotta weed jokes.

Thrasher.

Fish love me. Woman fear me.

Met god. She’s hot.

Blow me for luck.

Beer drinkers get more head.

The carpets do match the drapes

FuCk

Birthday Bitch

Deadass fuck thots on god

Hello I am Mr. Cunt

Master Baiter

Drive fast. Eat ass.

At 17, he had a vibrant hat collection. Anytime his brother’s saw a red hat with a shitty gag, they snagged it for him. Recent political events had bestowed upon his brothers a plethora of new material:

Make racists afraid again.

My other hat’s tin foil

Made you look

The list went on. His fuck cops wasn’t popular with local authorities. And how could he forget his most favorite powderpuff girl cap. That pissed them off to no end.

“Brick!” Butch yelled down the corridor. They were at Mojo’s this week, “Hurry up!”

“Uuhhhhh,” he mumbled to himself, as he stared at his wall, ignoring his brother. He hung them all up to make it easier to chose. His collection covered the wall.

His hand floated left to the one that said FuCk, but the one that said bad hair day caught his eye and his hand twitched to the right, “uuuuuhh, hmmmm.”

He floated toward the ceiling to look at the top of the wall, “welllllll...”

They’d be fighting with the girls today and because he liked making Blossom mad, he figured he needed to chose something more crude.

“Oh my god!” Butch cried outside his bedroom door, “Just fucking pick one!”

“Mmmmm.”

“Brick!” Butch pounded on his door, “I swear to god, I’ll burn them all if you just don’t pick one!”

“HMMmmmmmm!”

“Brick, it’s been thirty minutes!” Boomer whined, joining Butch, “The girls are waiting, we can’t cancel on them again! We’re bad guys, but we aren’t bad guys.”

“Ahhhhh—“ he sucked on his teeth in thought, “five more minutes!”

His brothers groaned in unison from the other side of the door.

“This is your fault, Boomer.” Butch whined.

“How?!” Boomer protested.

“Cause I wanted to get him that mask.”

————————————————————

His hat—his first hat—is lovingly preserved. He can’t risk losing it or damaging it any further. Before they started buying him new hats, most of the boys misadventures (the chaos they did NOT plan) were dedicated to saving Brick’s hat from the clutches of (insert one-shot villain here). It’s his security blanket. He breaks it out on the lazy days in.

He does though often lose his novelty hats. A violent gust of wind will rip one from his hat or a fight will cause it to disintegrate. But because Brick considers being the hat guy a personality trait, I think he’d have a spare one on hand at all times:

“My hat!” He cried, as the tornado-like monster blew through Townsville, ripping his hat from his head, and then disappeared into thin air, “the fucker took my hat!”

“Brick!” Blossom cried over the wind, “calm down! It’s a hat!”

“Yeah my hat!” He argued back. He wasn’t fond of the idea that him and his brothers and the girls now had to cooperate with each other, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “Butch! Boomer! I want my hat!” He hissed and his brothers nodded, understanding immediately what he meant.

“Right!” Butch dropped Buttercup, forgetting whatever fight the two had found themselves in.

“Got it!” Boomer jumped up from where he had been sitting on Bubbles, squashing her to the ground.

“What was that thing!” Brick barked at Blossom and she wiped the blood from her nose.

“I only know as much as you do, considering it literally just happened. Maybe it has to do with air—“

She cut off and looked at him, as he adjusted his emergency back up hat onto his head.

“What!” He hissed when he realized all three of the girls were giving him odd looks.

“Dude,” Buttercup asked from the ground, “do...do you just carry extra hats around?”

“Of course I do!” He spat, disgusted that they’d think so low of him not to, “Extra hat,” he pointed to his head, “emergency beanie,” he pulled one out of his pocket, “and extra hair ties,” him and his brother lifted up theirs wrists. “We live by the aesthetic, we die by the aesthetic, anymore questions?”

“Yeah!” Boomer huffed in his defense, “what’s it fucking matter to you anyway!”

“Don’t you three have bigger issues to worry about then our business?” Butch hissed, kicking at Buttercup.

Buttercup rolled away from the kick, dodging it with a laugh.

“What’s so funny!” Butch demanded and Buttercup shook her head, ignoring Butch and pointing up at her sister.

“Holy crap! He really is your counterpart, huh? You guys are perfect for each other!” She laughed wheezing. 

“Hey!!” Him and Blossom bristled together, “Shut up!”

————————————————————

When he learns that over excessive hat use can lead to hair breakage and premature balding his heart breaks, so he starts buckling them to his belt loops instead when he remembers to give his hair a break.

#rrb Brick #ppg Brick #head canons #fic drabbly #theyve got a bad sense of humor #but so do i #:) #trucker hat jokes are peak comedy #you can buy any of the hats i mentioned on amazon

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

Hero

A/N: (Y/N) is Number eight of the Umbrella Academy siblings. Her power is that she can make people feel things when she looks at them. From pain over warmth to relief. It has been of help to her siblings many times aready. But sometimes it is more fun to mess with them. And that is easily done...

- Diego is having a broody moment in Elliot’s house after the dinner with your father and you are trying to cheer him up now. -

word count: 2780

characters: Diego, (Y/N) 

You found Diego lying on Elliott’s bed, a knife between his fingers, his eyes focused on the way he was twirling it around.

He didn’t seem very happy all in all. He had taken a real beating to his self-confidence from his father and you could tell that he was trying not to let it hit too hard to home. Yet it did. And he wasn’t that good at working through those feelings all by himself, had never been. Isolating himself from the others who were cooking in the kitchen was just one way to avoid having anyone else notice his gloom. While some of the others might think it better to leave Diego alone and let him sort it all out, you didn’t share that point of view. 

Quietly you closed the door behind you after you had entered the room. You wrapped your arms around yourself, cleared your throat and looked at your brother carefully. He was already looking at you, his lips curled into a very small smile as his eyebrows were raised expectantly. You could see and feel the sadness he was trying so hard to swallow.

“(Y/N),” He addressed you softly while looking at the knife in his hands again, “I know what you will try to do. You don’t have to. Go on, get back to the others. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Sadly you sighed, your shoulders moving up and down very harshly. In your head, you tried to find the right words to say to him, just anything to get him some relief. You knew he didn’t like it when you used your power on him without consent and you could totally understand that. It just made you crazy that you could so easily help him and he didn’t want it. 

“Diego, I-”

“Really, (Y/N), I don’t want you to burden yourself with my- ... feelings. You always try to make everything okay for all of us. And you don’t have to. Some things we just have to figure out by ourselves. I’m just starting to understand that-” 

“Would you... shut up for a second?” You said loudly, frustrated by his endless babbling that only made it more and more obvious to you just how small Diego was feeling at the very moment. 

He stopped mid-sentence and closed his mouth with a gentle huff. His brown eyes were full of love for you, as they always had been. Still, you were getting the feeling that Diego really was changing. He wasn’t quite as defensive as he usually had been before the 60s. He was trying to work through his defenses to be able to openly show you all more of his love, compassion and trust. That was good. Still, he didn’t have to do it all by himself. Protecting everyone he loved didn’t mean he couldn’t be protected in return. 

With another sigh, you walked over to the bed and settled down on the side of it, your face turned towards your brother over your shoulder. He was making more space for you, a slightly tenser expression in his eyes now that he realized you weren’t gonna drop the issue so easily. 

“Listen,” you started, turning your face forward again to look at the nervous fingers in your lap, “what Dad said to you was ... it was ... “ 

Fighting with the words in your head, you looked at him again, despair in your eyes, while you saw the sadness color is own gaze more clearly now. 

“Diego, it was complete idiocy!” You exclaimed, anger blooming between your eye brows like a dark flower. “It was the stupidest thing I ever heard an old man say and you know that Five can say some pretty stupid things. You are a hero. You have been always been my hero. I mean, not just mine, but mine in a way you weren’t to others. You were so cool, you never said no when I asked you to pin my stupid Umbrella themed socks to a wall with your knives.”

He chuckled softly at the memory, a bit of his sadness making room for better emotions. 

“You always try to do the right thing.” You continued, daring to look at his face again. “You protect people. Not just your family, but other families as well. I mean if that’s not something to be proud of, what is, right?”

Diego’s lip was wavering slightly and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing, but it seemed to you like he was less burdened by self-depricating thoughts than before. You nodded to yourself and tried to decide whether it would be good to take his hand when he made the decision for you. It moved you when Diego’s fingers gently closed around your own, stopping your nervous fumbling and making you look at him. 

“And you think you need your power to make people feel better?” His eyes were glowing with fondness, something that happened more often lately than it had before. It was a good change. It was precious. 

“Oh,” you made, dropping your face in your other hand with a relieved smile, your cheeks slightly darker than before, “man, I wasn’t sure what the hell to say to make you feel better, but it was all the truth and I’m glad if that reminded you of how great you actually are.” 

Diego raised his eye-brows meaningfully and grinned at you. “Yeah, I know, I’m amazing, right?” 

“Ooookay, apparently that was a bit too much. Next time I’ll just use my power on you again.” You tried to get up off the bed with a laugh, when Diego pulled you back by your hand, exclaiming his disagreement loudly while also tousling your hair in a playful manner. You were pulling at you arm to get away, when you had an idea all of a sudden. With a smirk you focused on your brother and sent a nice little feeling his way.

He squeaked in a very uncharacteristic manner and pulled his arm back, letting go of your wrist in the process. You snickered to yourself as he gaped at you with an open mouth. This had always been your favorite part of your power when it came to your siblings. You could make them feel better, yes, that didn’t take much effort. But you could also make them feel other things. Maybe take a little detour and cheer them up in a process that took a little longer...

Diego knew just what you had in mind. And he was not in favor of it. That wasn’t very surprising, considering how ticklish he was...

“Don’t you do it.” You saw the glint in Diego’s eyes as he warningly pointed a finger at you. “I swear my revenge will be devastating.”

You barely were able to hold back a grin at his words, rememebering all the tickle fights you had already lost against your beloved brother. Once he hit the right spots, you were out of the game, unable to focus on your power anymore and closing your eyes too much to really use it anyway. He knew just where he had to tickle to make you squeeze your eyes shut and laugh your head off. That was one of the best and worst things about having a brother. 

“I can see you smile in that veeeery unsettling way and I tell you no. You will not have fun with it, (Y/N), I swear this time you will regret every single ticklish feeling you send my way because I will tickle you so hard in return you will- GAHH!!” 

“You are in a really babbly mood today, aren’t you?” You asked with an innocent smile as Diego started twitching away from invisible hands. 

“Plehease don’t!” He giggled when your power started stroking all over his ticklish spots. “Please no tickles! I’m a grown ass mahahan, (Y/N)!!” 

“Just a little bit of it right over here.” You grinned when Diego threw himself onto his back on the bed as your tickle mojo circled around his middle. He wrapped his arms around his torso in an attempt to stop the ticklish feeling, but it was useless. He couldn’t stop it and he knew that very well. He had always been your favorite when it came to using that special side effect of your powers. Probably because it had always worked so well on him when it came to a good cheer up. 

Laughing so hard his cheeks started to glow in a cute rose color Diego now curled into a tiny ball and hit the sheets with his feet.

“SthaAAHAHAHAP, (Y/N)!! I’M OKAY I SWEEHHEEAR I AM!! NO MOHOHORE BAD MOODS I PROHOHOHMISE!!!” He shrieked with laughter when your tickles reached his upper ribs, poking, prodding and scratching all simultaneously as you just sat there and smirked at your brother’s strong reaction to the tickling. 

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad. This is bad!” You chuckled as your brother started kicking much harder when you jumped on top of him and added your own hands to his sides while your mojo focused completely on his armpits, keeping his useless elbows pinned to his ribs in an attempt to protect himself. He was laughing so hard his eyes stayed squeezed shut and his hair started to get real tousled from him rubbing his head all over the pillow. 

You were just pinching his ribs, when Allison opened the door and crossed her arms in front of her chest, clearing her throat audibly. You whipped your head around and lost your focus on your brother for a second. Enough time for Diego to grab you and pin you to his chest with your back against his pecs. 

“ALLISON!!” You yelled and immediately tried to worm out of Diego’s embrace so that you could get a good look at him again and continue where you had been so rudely interrupted.

“Oh, how the tables have turned!” Diego murmurred in your ear with a rough laugh and you immediately knew your were doomed. 

“Sorry, sis, but saving Diego is the least of an apology I can offer him right now after the way I acted during the... dinner.” She said, unusually soft, making your brother breathe differently for a second. He was just as surprised as you were. Positively so. 

“Totally accepted.” He said to Allison, unusually soft as well, making you start kicking harder again. This was ridiculous. Diego was the one who needed some cheering up. You hadn’t signed up for immediate revenge.

“YOU CAN START THINKING OF AN APOLOGY FOR ME RIGHT NOW, ALLISON, YOU HEAR ME!!” You were trashing around way too much, you knew that, it was futile anyway and Diego was only waiting for you to be too weak to fight back properly anymore. 

Allison chuckled and leaned down a little to direct her next words at you. “My apology? I won’t rumor you to be more ticklish than you already are, how about that?” 

Your eyes widened and your struggles died down for a second. You bit your bottom lip and said. “Yeah please don’t do that...” 

Diego laughed at that and growled into your ear, making it impossible for you not to giggle at the slight tickle his beard was producing on your neck. 

Allison chuckled as well and started turning around to leave the room again. “No, you’d definitely be a goner if I did that. Have fun, guys.” 

“No. ALLISON! DON’T LEAVE ME! NA- GAHAHAHAD NOOOO!! DIEGOOOO!!” 

You knew Allison had left the door open on purpose. It probably felt a bit like the good parts of home to your siblings to hear you and Diego have a tickle fight. The sound of the laughter of you two must have been quite nice and reassuring to them. Wonderful. Couldn’t they have had the same response to Diego’s wheezing before? 

“Oh, I told you, little sis. This is gonna tickle.” Diego buried his face in your neck and blew a long raspberry, accompanied by the general ticklishness of his beard on your skin while his hands were worming their way under your arms to heighten the ticklish effect even more. 

You were an instant mess, your laughter completely out of control as he wrecked you like back in the old days. You couldn’t say that you hated it. You didn’t, despite the struggle you put into your fight against him. You just felt too loved and cherished as his sparkling eyes focused on getting just the right spots and his playful growls showed how much he enjoyed making you laugh like that. Well, maybe you had been in need of a good tickle. Still, it was an outrage that Diego still called you his “little” sister despite you having told him time and time again that you were all the same age.

In an attempt to make him laugh again you tried to fight back by skittering your nails down his ribs when you saw an opening, but he had the upper hand now and easily pushed your hand away before it had the chance to weaken him enough. 

“PLEHEHHEASE!! THIS IS MEHEHHEEAN!!” 

“Oh, you calling this mean, sweetheart?” Diego chuckled and managed to pin one of your arms down to the mattress, proceeding to tickle you even harder than before with his free hand, five fingers digging right into the spots that made you squeal. “You know what’s mean, is when you’re helpless like this, that’s mean.” 

“STAHAHHAP!! DIEGOO PLEHEHEHEASE!!!”

“Just a little bit right over here!” He mimicked your words from earlier and turned you on your back to get at your stomach. You tried to get a good look at him to summon your powers again, but it was no use. You just couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Defeat had to be called when he managed to lift your shirt just the littlest bit and blew a raspberry right on your side. You were screeching with laughter, pushing at his head and trying harder than before to weasel out of his embrace, but it didn’t work. He just kept dipping his head down to brush your belly with his beard and blow tiny raspberries all over the sensitive skin, until all you yould muster in coherent words was “OVER GAME OVER SOLDIER DOWN”. 

He actually had mercy then, a sweet smile on his face, as he put his chin up on his hands and crossed them over your belly. You rubbed at your face and groaned. But despite trying to, you could’t keep from laughing a little more, making your brother chuckle as well and playfully bury his face in your stomach. That feeling was enough to make you squeak again which made him lift his head up quickly, a big smile on his features. 

“We’re a little sensitive now, huh?” 

You mustered your strength and moved closer to ruffle through his hair very wildly with both your hands, making him sigh dramatically and say “Okay, you’re asking for this!” before he buried his face in your stomach again and went back to squeezing your sides with his hands. This time you didn’t last ten seconds before you could barely breathe anymore and tried to pull his hands off of your skin, your laughter adorably tired by now. He moved his head away soon and took his hands off of your ticklish spots with a clear offering of peace on his pleased face. “You had about enough, you little toad?”

You nodded with a giggly wheeze and rubbed at your eyes as he climbed off of you, huffing gently to himself. He scrambled up on the mattress to drop on his back next to you and sent you an affectionate glance. It all felt way too embarrassing to you now that it was over and you hid your face behind your hands with a groan. 

“Don’t look at me!” 

“Oh, come on,” He laughed and nudged you carefully, “I get to win too once in a while, or don’t I?” 

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye and couldn’t keep from grinning now as well. 

“Attagirl.” He gently nudged your chin with his fist and your smile grew. 

You took your hands away from your face and quickly buried it in his chest, as you threw your arms over his body and snuggled up to him. He let out a loud breath when your knee hit him in the stomach, but merely patted it with a gentle laugh once you were settled and nestled. 

“Diego?”

“Hmm?” 

“You still are my hero.”

He made a pleased noise and entangled one of his leg with yours. “Even though I am a ticklish hero?”

You smirked into his shirt. “Definitely.”

#diego hargreeves #tua #ticklish!diego #tickling #fluff #tua fluff #imagine #(y/n) #hargreeves siblings #david castaneda #tua fanfic #tickle fanfic

[that-winged-rat]

Redemption

Redemption ~ Part 3

*not my gif*

Summary: Sam and Jack chance a visit to Y/N, but it takes an unexpected turn for everyone.

Pairing: None

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Sam Winchester, Jack Kline, Dean Winchester

Warnings: For once, I actually don’t think there is any. But if there is any, let me know :)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Okay okay okay. I know I’ve already written and uploaded part 3 of this, but the more I thought about it the less I was happy with it. So I’ve decided to rewrite it to what it was originally going to be and I hope that this part is much better. Feedback is always encouraged and welcomed! Enjoy :)

Masterlist

Redemption Masterlist

6 Months Later

Y/N stood on the porch of her cabin, leaning against the bannister and gazing at the view, knowing that she chose the perfect spot. The mountain breeze was nippy, but she didn’t mind. She just closed her eyes as it washed over her face and played with her hair. 

The floorboards behind her creaked and she shot her eyes open, but made no move to turn around, as she already knew who it was.

“Y/N?” Sam said, carefully moving towards her, Jack following closely behind him.

“You two got some balls showing up here,” she said and finally turned around to face the two men. She leaned back against the railing, her elbows supporting her and her feet crossed. “And audacity.”

Sam looked down to his feet and sighed, before looking back up to her. “I know we have no right to ask this, but... we need–”

“I know what you need. Well, I know what you want,” she started. “You want my help. But you think that after you lied to me – after you forced me to share things that I didn’t want to share – that I would just willingly help you again?” She scoffed. “Wow, you two really are dumb.”

Jack stepped forward, now slightly in front of Sam. “I’m sorry about what I did. But we really need your help. It’s about Dean,” he said, carefully watching Y/N’s expression to get any hint if she was going to help or not.

She chuckled lightly. “I don’t care,” she said. “You robbed me of my one chance to be happy.” She leaned forward. “So for all I care, you can all suffer,” she finished, her voice threateningly low.

“You don’t mean that,” Sam said, shaking his head. 

“How the hell would you know? You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“Yeah, actually, I do. I know what happened in ‘65,” Sam said.

Y/N snapped her head to Jack, fire burning in her eyes. “You know, after what you forced me to tell you about that, I thought you would have the decency to think ‘huh, maybe she doesn’t want me telling people she barely knows about her past’. But I guess not.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Jack said, looking at her through his big brown eyes.

“Sorry don’t pay the bills, Bambi,” she said. Silence washed over the three of them for a moment before Y/N pushed herself off of the bannister and walked closer to Sam and Jack. “Actually... I have something to show the two of you. It’s your very own personalised Mickey Mouse Clubhouse!”

She placed a hand on either of their shoulder and out of instinct, Sam and Jack both closed their eyes when they felt a strange pulling sensation in their chests.

When they opened their eyes, however, they were back at the bunker. But on the front of the door, instead of the traditional Men of Letters logo, it was Mickey Mouse. And Y/N’s words repeated in Sam’s head: “your very own personalised Mickey Mouse Clubhouse!”

He looked at Jack and could tell that the same thought was running through his head. They both sighed and opened the door, nearly having a heart attack when they saw a six-foot Mickey Mouse plush in the door way.

Once they recovered, they pushed it aside and opened the front to the inside of the bunker, just in time to hear shouts from Dean.

“What the hell!?”

Sam and Jack looked at each other before heading down the stairs. “Dean?” Sam called out. The two of them frowned when they saw Donald Duck walk around the corner and into the war-room.

“Either you two pissed off someone real powerful, or Gabriel isn’t dead,” Dean said angrily, placing his hands on his hips. He was dressed head-to-toe in a full on Donald Duck costume; like the one that walks around Disney Land.

“Dean?” Sam asked again. Dean raised his hands out to his sides, answering Sam’s question. “What the hell happened?”

 Dean sighed and removed Donald’s head from his and held it under his arm. “You tell me! I’m just making a sandwich and the next thing I know... I’m frickin’ Donald!”

Sam sighed, knowing that he would have to tell Dean that him and Jack didn’t go to see a movie in Wichita. “Um, we went to go speak to Y/N. To see if she could help with Michael.”

“Well, I can only imagine how that went,” Dean replied sarcastically.

“Yeah, she was... not happy with us, at all,” Jack spoke up.

The sound of footsteps then came from the library and they all looked in that direction to see Cas, dressed up as Goofy, but like Dean, he was holding the head in his hands.

Although Dean was mad, he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his mouth. But the laugh turned to a cough when Cas glared at him.

“Well at least there’s no permanent damage,” Sam said, rubbing his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

“You alright, man?” Dean asked, taking a step closer to him.

Sam opened his eyes again and cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, just a headache.”

“Alright, well, I’m gonna go get changed out of this crap,” he said before walking off to his bedroom, Cas leaving to do the same not long after.

---

The sound of bubbling water was drowned out by the voice of a game show host, introducing the contestants to the audience, while spaghetti was being stirred around a pan with a wooden spoon. 

Once the long pasta was limp enough, the water was drained from the pan, and the spaghetti was scooped out onto a plate before the bolognese was added on top. Y/N carried the plate over to the couch in front of the TV and dug in.

Just as she was about to take a bite of the first forkful, she felt a presence behind her. She sighed and threw her fork back onto her plate in a huff.

“Jack, normally when someone disappears or sends you away whenever you try to talk to them, it usually means they wanna be left alone,” she said, as Jack walked to stand in front of her. “Also, you’re blocking my view of the TV.”

“What did you do to Sam?” Jack asked, ignoring her theatrics.

“I didn’t do anything to the Yeti.” Y/N stood up and moved to a different part of the couch where she could see the game show.

“You’re lying,” he said confidently. “He was fine before he came here, and now he’s sick. What did you do to him?”

“Well, if you did your research before interrupting my dinner, you would realise that, like I said, I didn’t do anything; it’s reverse altitude sickness,” she said through a mouthful of her spaghetti.

He frowned. “Can you fix it?”

Y/N mirrored his expression, and furrowed her brows as well. “Why would need me to do that when you–” she stopped herself as she slowly tilted her head back, her mouth agape, and realisation hitting her like a truck. “You can’t, can you? No, you’ve still got your mojo, which means you’re able to, just not allowed to. What happened, huh? Did Jacky-boy get grounded?”

Jack shook his head. “I didn’t get grounded. I just... I wanted to know what you did to him first.”

“But now you know that I didn’t do anything, so you can go fix him,” she said, smirking, knowing that she was right, and that for some reason, Jack couldn’t fix him.

He hesitated. “Come with me,” Jack said firmly, going to grab her arm.

She leaned to the side and moved her arm away from him. “Whoa. Hard pass I’m afraid. See, I have this rule: stay away from assholes. And as you can see–” she held her arms up, showing off her home– “I’m doing a pretty good job so far.”

Jack was quiet for a moment. He took a quick step forward and placed a hand on her knee, before the both of them disappeared. 

And before Y/N could comprehend what was happening, there was a smashed plate of spag bol on the bunker floor, and she was being dragged through the bunker’s hallways by Jack. She ripped her arm free and stopped walking, prompting Jack to do the same.

“Okay, I’ve said this to Dean, and I’ll say it to you: touch me again, and it’ll be the last thing you do,” she warned. “Secondly, you owe me spaghetti bolognese. Thirdly, I don’t appreciate being kidnapped and taken to a place I can’t teleport out of. Fourthly–”

“Alright, I get it, you don’t want to be here,” Jack interrupted. “But please, help Sam and Dean.”

Y/N sighed. “Fine. But tell me something first,” she said. “Why can’t you help them?”

“I’ll tell you after.”

She was silent for a moment. “Okay, well, it was bad seeing you again, Jack. I hope you find a way to save Dean.” 

She began to walk away but stopped when she felt a hand on her arm again. Jack immediately dropped his hold on her when she turned around and glared at him.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said and took a menacing step towards him, her eyes turning a subtle but noticeable red. Jack relaxed a little – but not completely – when she didn’t take another step forward, and he knew that she wasn’t going to go through with her previous threat.

“Y/N?” She didn’t tear her gaze from Jack’s when she heard Castiel’s voice behind her. “What’re you doing here?”

Y/N kept staring at the Nephilim for a few seconds before she smiled and turned around. “I was just leaving,” she said and tried to walk past Cas, but he blocked her off and she released an overdramatic groan.

“Dean has an archangel locked away in his head,” Cas started. “And when Michael gets out – and he will get out – he will burn this world to the ground.”

She placed a hand over her heart. “That is truly awful. I’ll make sure to grab a tissue on my way out,” she said, and pretended to wipe a tear from her eye.

“No one’s that heartless. Not even you,” Cas said. “Now I don’t know what’s happened since the last time we saw each other, but I’m guessing that you know what it’s like to loose someone who’s family. I know what that’s like, Sam knows what it’s like, but Jack doesn’t. Don’t be the reason he has to experience it. And don’t be the reason Sam has to lose his brother. Again.” 

Y/N didn’t say anything as she looked to the ground. “Damnit,” she muttered to herself a minute later, but it was loud enough for Jack and Cas to hear.

“You’ll help?” Jack asked, unable to hide his excitement.

She sighed. “Reluctantly.”

Cas smiled. “That’s good enough for us.”

---

Tagged: @supernaturalenchanted @vicmc624 @deanwanddamons​

#supernatural #spn #supernatural series #spn series #dean winchester #sam winchester #jack kline #castiel #dean #sam #dean winchester x reader!platonic #sam winchester x reader!platonic #jack kline x reader!platonic #castiel x reader!platonic #dean x reader!platonic #sam x reader!platonic #jack x reader!platonic #y/n #supernatural reader insert #spn reader insert #supernatural family #spn family #supernatural fandom #spn fandom #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural fan fiction #that-winged-rat

[spnsmile]

Cas' reaction when he finds out Dean's liver failure

I can't really imagine how except pure shock and immediate tackle 😂

On the other hand.. ✨

Dean doing everything just to get Cas' attention because he can't stand the angel ignoring him for many days after a petty quarrel. Except the Angel of the Lord is so done with his shit that Cas refuses to even look at him. But Dean knows Cas weakness: Cas could never stop caring about him . And he loves Cas for this absolute fact.

At first, it's all deliberate. 

He knows how Cas can't stand it when he's injured,  so Dean would pull the most outrageous stunts just to see Cas looking at him in concern. Sam called him an idiot when he noticed but Sam's not the one hungry for the angel's attention. 

So Dean times it. Needless to say,  he's an acrobat, though lately his left shoulder's been aching like a bitch. 

He begins with a fall on the stairs. Dean slips three steps down and lands on his stomach flat on the floor.  The air gets knocked out of his chest, he lets out an exaggerated groan that must've shooed birds outside and made the most excruciating expression. 

Both Sam and Cas rushed to his side, his brother asking him what hurts, 'what d'you think?' but Cas presses a finger on his forehead quickly upon seeing Dean's face without asking. Dean pulls away like he's burned. No way he's wasting any of his boyfriend's mojo for real. 

The look of surprise on the hunter's face is mirrored on the angel. 

And it worked.  

Castiel transfixes him a glare so deep and said warningly, "Dean."

Attention taken. Dean doesn't let him so Cas is on him the entire day. He noticed bruising on his stomach after it and tells himself not to get too much into it. 

The second time the chance opened, they are outside the car in an empty street.  Cas is still inside the impala while the brothers prepare the weapons. 

Dean gets a classic act of timing Sam shutting down the impala's trunk lid on his right hand. Of course it's just skin,  but Dean can always exaggerate. 

He yowls in pain while poor Sam frantically fumbles for the keys. Cas panics beside him when he checks the commotion and nearly ripped apart baby's lid away if Dean didn't snatch his red skin from the trunk, looking horrified. 

Cas this time grabs his wrist. Did not even let him speak and just heals him, telling Dean  Cas it's just a car in comparison to his limb so Dean doesn't talk to him for a day. Cas also unwittingly removed his bruising stomach. 

Third time's a real accident. Dean simply pretended to fix the sink's pipe when a jolting abdominal pain hits him bad, he knocks his brain out when he pulls up- the thud is heard all over the kitchen. Dean groans because the bump is real and his stomach is in pain,  so when he sees Cas already by the door, looking around the room where he heard Dean's cry, Dean calls for him. 

The two looked at each other,   the blue eyes round and wide while the green is teary from the pain. He watches as Cas walks toward him,  kneels down and looks him searchingly in the eyes. Questionningly at first, then alarm. 

He cradles Dean's cheeks on his palms,  fitting Dean there, making the hunter blink for a moment. Cas suddenly clicks his tongue like he's chastising himself before he scoops Dean to his arms and stands up,  carrying the hunter bridal style while the Dean complains aloud to be let down. Cas doesn't. 

Not even when Sam stops to look from the kitchen doorway.  One look at Cas'expression and Sam is moving out of his way,  not wanting to be involved. 

Dean goes on complaining until the corridor where Cas gives him this glare so piercing it shut the hunter's lip till they reach his room. 

Heart pounding when Cas stops at the edge of the bed,  Dean's thoughts crisscrosses on things they can both do,  except he feels nauseus and cold at the moment.

Then his heart skips a beat when he sees Cas look at their bed. 

For one wild moment,  Dean thought Cas would drop him there and just ravish him.  He saw the longing in the angel's eyes, so it's a surprise to him when Cas slowly puts him down and lays him across as gentle as possible like he's cradling a child. 

But then Cas pulls the hem of his shirt up away from his stomach.  Dean jerks up, excitement and nausea mixing in his body. Cas puts a hand on his shoulder,  eyebrows contracted, blue eyes solemn. 

"Don't move."

Dean blinks.  He wants to ask what's wrong but the look is enough to silence the hunter and just trusts the angel.  

"Dean,  what do you feel?"

"Huh? Uh... well,  I got a boner for one thing."

"We can take care of that later."

Dean chuckles, the shaking of his body making him groan.  Castiel holds his arm. "Dean?" the angel suddenly touches his right side with the tips of his fingers and presses down Dean's stomach. 

Dean chokes in pain,  tears now welling up as he struggled to breath.  Castiel quickly removes his hand, then gets his palm over Dean's stomach. 

There's a pause then-

Dean sighs at the warm energy circling his side. Cas is doing something miraculous on his abdomen, causing Dean to sigh in relief.  Then it's all gone. 

Dean blinks and looks around inquiringly. Cas is still frowning over his exposed stomach. 

"Cas?"

"How long have you been in pain?"

"Uh...  Huh?"

"Your liver was failing, Dean. How could I let this happen?  It's my fault. " Cas weakly says, slumping his ass down the floor while Dean scrambles to a sitting position with quick hand clutching the sleeves of Cas'trench coat. Afraid Cas would go away. 

"Hey,  hey... What did you just say?  I got liver...?"

"Failure." Cas whispers, head bowed down. 

"Okay." Dean frowns.  Is that why he's been feeling weird lately? "Uh...  So how's that your fault?"

"Because I'd been ignoring you for the past days..." Cas groans, slamming his palms on his eyes,  "If I hadn't neglected you, this wouldn't have happened."

Dean surveys the angel for a moment,  then he chuckles. It did not pain him anymore. Castiel glares up though,  "You think this is funny?"

" I think you're over accepting responsibilities.  Cas, how could my liver or balls' failure be your fault?  This is my body, my responsibility."

"You're my responsibility." Cas replies flatly,  "You're mine."

And that's when Dean sees how Cas sees him. 

His.

"Come here,  bed." Dean says,  patting the otherside of the bed.  Like magic, Castiel snaps his fingers and he stands up only in his boxers.  Dean smiles as Cas tackles him on the bed, making Dean his little spoon.

"My body's failure is never on you,  Cas." Dean explains quietly, "I'm human."

"With a boyfriend angel.  That should make a difference." Cas isn't appeased. His grumpiness makes Dean chuckle. 

"Are you going to heal me forever?  You know... Like stop my skin from getting wrinkles and make me stay like some ken-doll forever?"

"If you permit forever."

"Yeah,  but you're gonna date an old guy soo,  Cas..."

"I think there's beauty in age." Cas murmurs on Dean's nape,  nipping on the skin and sighing. "I think you'd look more beautiful with age, Dean."

"Like Tom Cruise?" Dean chuckles,  squiggling away from the position so he can turn around the bed to face his angel.  

"You're more, always will be. He doesn't even begin to compare. . " Cas says,  pulling Dean closer and inhaling his scent. "Your soul will always be the same to me,  Dean. No matter how your vessel looks like."

"You say that now.  Wait till my hair is all white and my skin's all wrinkly-"

"So be it. I think you'll still look hot."

"Doesn't sound sexy at all." Dean pouts. "I mean,  you're not the guy who has to walk around with a hot boyfriend on his arm like some pimp."

 Cas suddenly props himself on one elbow,  staring at his boyfriend with unequal intent,  "Do you mean that?"

"Uhh... ?" The twinkle on Cas'eyes made the hunter go back to what he said just now. "What?  The part of you being my pimp?"

"You and me staying together." Cas says breathlessly. Even Dean has to pause to take in the angel's too happy face. "You said..."

Dean frowns like this never occured to Cas?  Then he remembered.. He never asked nor prepared to pop up the question. He did

"Of course,  Cas. I mean,  you're the one who can ditch me when you get tired of fixing my failing liver or failing kidney or failing personality.  You're my it, Cas. Nothing to change that now."

"I'll never tire of you,  Dean. We will grow old together if you want and then share your heaven some day." 

"Second heaven, you mean. This is the first." Dean snuggles closer to Cas,  basking himself in the angel's warmth. 

"First it is."

"Of the many?" Dean asks. 

"Of the many." Cas promises. 

"Marry me." Dean looks Cas in the eyes,  ring won't do because at that moment he knows he can promise Cas the moon. 

Castiel gives him sunshine. 

"Oh, Dean. Yes. " 

#still dont know how to cut this 🔪

#destiel ficlet #anon asks #why ficlet tho #i dont know how else #castiel and dean are so real #castiel and dean #supernatural #castiel #dean winchester #destiel

[thewritingstar]

Ooohh! For the prompts, can you please do 85 or 88 with Buttercup and Butch??

85) “Could you come get me?” 

Pairing: Butch x Buttercup (Greens/ Butchercup)

Fandom: PPG

I really need to right more Greens. (the next few asks are greens so yall are getting the goods) I really hope you enjoy this because I had fun writing it and its short and cute and angsty and soft and i was butch and bc to love each other forever

requests/asks always open :)  ---

The door to his apartment slammed shut. His temper was spiked high and Boomer looked up from his guitar with concern while Brick simply cocked an eyebrow and went back to his video game. 

Butch was angry. No furious, no full of rage, whatever synonym that was formed was processing through his body as he shook with a violent tone. The poor orange juice bottle didn’t stand a chance and soon his wrist was in a tight hold by his notorious leader. 

“Chill.” Was all Brick said with a cold and deadly tone. He took the bottle from his brother who looked like he was about to burst with even a poke and poured him a glass and sent him to his room. He was not a fucking child! but he had orange juice now, so it was whatever. 

He slammed his door shut, Boomer yelled but he couldn’t care. Taking the juice down in one gulp, he carefully placed the glass on his desk because the last thing he needed was to break something and have Brick in his face. He had just healed from last month's brutal brawl and he didn’t need more scars from Brick's fist, not now at least. 

He paced around his room. His thought went berserk in his head and he wanted them to stop. 

God he was an idiot. How could he do that? How could he ruin the only good thing he had. 

He slunk down against his wall until he hit the floor and just sat there with a shaking head and a bitter laugh.

“You fucking did it now Butch.” He said bitterly. 

He fucked up big time. This wasn’t some simple and stupid fight that he could come back from, no, he really ruined their friendship. For what? for something else? Pathetic. He should just go back to stealing but that would mean more of them. He wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole, destroy him too if it meant it would get rid of the heavy feeling. 

He almost didn’t notice his door opening to his younger brother. He couldn’t care either. Instead his eyes stayed in one place on the carpet until his brother sat down and took away his view. 

“Hey bro.” Boomer said softly. Butch’s leg only bounced as Boomer handed him some water. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

“Nothing.” he tried to say with fire but it died in his throat. He hated that his brother could see him at his weakest points but that's what he always liked about them. Boomer may have been deemed “dumber than the dumbest '' and everything in between but he had a merit of compassion that neither of the boys possessed, at least not as much. 

Boomer laughed a little before rolling his eyes. “Yeah well I’ve never seen you this upset.”

“Im always angry.”

“Mmm no not really. You may be ready to punch and fight at any given moment but that look in your eyes and your body movement, you’re upset. Plus Brick is always angry, you have calmed down over the years.” 

He stayed silent. Sure maybe he didn’t have the same anger as the red ruff but he wasn’t cheerful like Boomer, maybe he was more content. Fuck, he was turning soft. 

“So tell me what's up.” 

Butch frown deepened as he drank the rest of his water. “I kissed her.” 

“Who?” Boomer asked. 

“Who do you think?” He spat and the look of confusion didn’t leave his face. 

“Kelly?”

“No.”

“Ashley?”

“God no.”

“Molly-”

“BUTTERCUP. I KISSED BUTTERCUP!” He shouted and instantly stopped when Boomers eyes widened. He can’t remember the last time he cried. When he felt the hot tears on his face but the sensation building up in his chest as the tears came was too much. 

“You kissed-but she has a boyfriend?”

“You don’t think I know that?” He yelled again and this time his head began to pound. 

“Why?” The blond asked and he looked up through blurred eyes. 

Why? 

-- Earlier that day--

“Wanna hit the skate park?” He asked as he grabbed his backpack from the sidelines of the basketball court. Buttercup shook her head as she looked to the sky. 

“Not today, it's gonna rain and uh, i have plans.” She said the last part quietly. 

He only rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Let me guess, with Alex?” 

She punched his arm lightly as she picked up her own stuff. They felt the beginning of the rain drops fall on to their heads but didn’t make a rush to move. “Yeah and?” She knew he wasn’t a fan of Alex. 

She doesn’t know why. Alex was nice. He didn’t play sports, or like horror movies, or really anything Buttercup liked but he was...nice. They had only been together for two months and Butch hated every moment of it. 

“And? You’re blowing me off for a dude who can’t even kick a ball straight.” 

She huffed, not this again. “Butch you don’t have to like him.”

“I don’t” She didn’t know why it stung. Her sisters liked him, he was more of Bubbles' friend anyways. Bubbles got them together and it was fine. But Blossom was skeptical, almost like she didn’t approve for some reason.

“We are gonna hang out on Friday for movie night so what's the big deal?”  She asked. The rain was now coming down harder but his feet stayed glued to his spot. She could see a tense look in his eye as if he were debating what to say next. 

“Forget it. Have fun.” He tried to turn away but she caught his wrist. 

“He’s nice.” She tried to convince him and maybe herself too. 

He let out a bitter laugh before stepping closer to her. 

“You’re too good for him.” He whispered in her ear. It was the truth and they both knew it. “You know he’s only with you for the title, don’t do that to yourself.” The rain was now pouring on them. Soaking into their clothes and if they were fully normal, they would be shivering but instead their skin burned like fire. 

“Butch, please don’t.” She gulped. “Please I need my friend.” It wasn’t convincing. 

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She tried to reason but she was losing and he was inching closer. She should have hit him. Told him to stop and that she just wanted her best friend by her side. But that was all a lie. One that she had been saying to herself for months. 

“You know that I can treat you so much better. He doesn’t understand you, he never will. Face it BC, you and I aren’t just counterparts. We are one in the same and I get you. Please.” His voice above a whisper as his lips connected with hers. 

He felt her tense up. He shouldn’t be doing this. She had a boyfriend. A lousy and lame boyfriend who couldn’t ever treat her how she deserves. She was a walking goddess among these mortals and he knew that. She was dark and devious but in a pleasing way and he wanted nothing more than to call her his. 

She fell into his kiss. Pulling at his collar as she screamed at herself for doing this. But it felt so right and so good. they fit like puzzle pieces, as cliche as it sounded, it was true. She had never felt the spark or fireworks people say when you kiss someone. But right now it was an explosion of lust and comfort, and she knew only he could ever make her feel that way. 

They pulled a part as their breaths felt heavy and their foreheads touched. He expected a punch to the gut or even a slap to face. He deserved it after all. But she didn’t and she hated that she didn’t.

“I have to go.” She said as she looked away. 

“Hey.” he tugged at her fingers lightly. “I don’t care. But I’m going to be there for you.” He turned his own head the other direction as she flew away. His chest felt heavy and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as blood touched his tongue. 

He felt it in his system. The guilt and the dread. Mojo taught them not to feel any of that, they were villains after all. He saw the fade of the neon green streak and without thinking, he turned on his heel and walked away. A near by tree blasted to pieces as smoke burned from his hand and he never wanted to see this stupid place again. 

--

And now he was here. Soaking wet while tears spilled from his eyes and his little brother looked at him with pity. He hated that dude. Hated how he would look at other girls in the hallways while he had the best one on his arm. Hated how he hadn’t bothered to show up to any of her games and cheer her on. Hated that he told Butch that he won. 

He gripped his fists and finally stood up, Boomer helping him from toppling over and he doesn’t remember his shirt being off but now he was pushed towards the shower and his brother telling him not to get sick. He let the water run over him as he tried to get rid of all those thoughts.

He could be mad all he wanted but he shouldn’t have kissed her. No matter how stupid Alex was, he didn’t want BC to be seen as a cheater, it was his fault. Before long he was now out of the shower, warm and clean but he starred in the mirror and hated how his eyes were puffy. 

He didn't bother combing his hair or doing anything and just wanted to go to sleep, even though it was only 8 pm. By the time he flopped onto his bed and grabbed his phone, he saw three missed calls. All from Buttercup. 

“Fuck.” It was probably her screaming how he ruined their relationship and that she never wanted to see him again. He would understand. He didn’t want to press the button to call her back, he wanted to savor what was left of their friendship but on the first ring she picked up. 

“Buttercup before you yell I just need you to know-”

“Could you come get me?” Her voice was like a meek squeak through the phone and he wasn't sure if he heard her right. 

“What?” He heard her sniffle as if she was crying. 

“Butch please. You-you were right.” 

He hung up. 

--

She heard the phone line go dead and sat on the sidewalk with tears in her eyes. She was stupid. So incredibly stupid for thinking that Alex was nice. She knew it all along and for what? What was she trying to prove? 

Her head was in between her knees as she sob. She just wanted her best friend but that was gone now. 

“BC?” she lifted her head and saw him through blurry tears. She wiped her face with her sleeve but it didn’t matter since the rain was pouring down. “What the hell did he do to you?” His tone is now sour. 

She held her hands up. “Guess he forgot I was coming over and when I got there, that bitch from English, she was. And they were-” She choked out a sob before she felt him pull her to his chest. She wrapped her arms around them and tugged at his shirt, hoping that he wouldn't go away. “You were right and im just some stupid fucking girl who-”

“You’re not stupid.” He stopped her and pulled away so that he could look at her. “He is a piece of shit for not treating you right. And an even bigger shit for sleeping around, fucker.” 

“Two months.” She whispered. “He was with her for the entire time.” 

He thought the anger he felt before was his limit but now he was seething. He had lied and cheated on her for the entirety of their relationship and now he didn’t even feel bad for kissing her. Instead of bolting up and going to find him, he just hugged her. 

“I'm sorry.” 

“Buttercup you don’t have to apologize.”

“I only dated him because of you.” her voice was quiet. 

He furrowed his eyebrows and she let out a deep breath. 

“I was afraid to be with you because I didn’t want anything to change. I wouldn’t forgive myself, so I thought if i had a distraction, i could keep those feelings down.” She bit back a small laugh. “And we see how that turned out.” 

She looked at him and he was silent. She laughed a little and he tilted his head. “We are so stupid.” She smiled before rolling her eyes and pulling him into a kiss. He had been on his knees as she was sitting down and now due to the force of the pull. He was leaning over her with a hand behind them keeping him from toppling over her. 

He embraced the kiss and she cupped one of his cheeks with her hand. It was an awkward position but he couldn’t care as he was too focused on kissing the most amazing girl he had ever met. They pulled apart and before he fell over, he moved so he was sitting next to her and she rested her head on his shoulder. 

“I don’t think anything would change.” He stated and she hummed. 

“Really.” 

“Nah, we are both too stubborn for that shit. I wouldn’t give us up in any way.” She cracked a smile and the rain had lightened up. “So... what do you say. Babe?” He laughed as he held out his hand and she looked at it before placing her hand in his and pressing her lips quickly to his cheek. 

“Game on.” 

And this time when he kissed her lips, it was slow and just right. 

--

hope you enjoyed!!!

[kickingitwithkirk]

She’s My Whip

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2250

Warnings: oral (m & f giving/receiving) sex, squirting, cursing, pornish language and other adulting things that make it 18+only

A/N:  A-Z Kink Challenge: Younger/Older  Written for @covered-byroses #cbrkinkchallange  Thank you Ms.Kelly for letting me participate in my first writing challenge

A/N: this is my first work (outside a drabble) I’ve ever let anyone read. I quit writing over a decade ago so I’m rusty as hell but working on getting my mojo back. Creative criticism welcome

A/N II: 3/21/21 I did some rewriting on this piece I love so much, fixing the things that’s nagged at me since original release.

* no beta , all mistakes are mine

*GIF not mine

“...So that’s when I knew I had closed the deal.” The guy next to me at the bar Greg, or Gary, who'd been droning on about this deal for the last twenty minutes looked at me waiting for a response.

“That’s fantastic, congratulations on closing the deal.” You responded enthusiastically, faking it like an orgasm during bad sex. 

Sipping on the glass of wine he ordered, trying not to grimace at the taste and wondering for the umpteenth time what is it with men your age? Why did they feel entitled to decide what to order you without asking?

Now in your early forties you prefer men like your alcohol, on the younger side with an adventurous edge.

Tuning out ummm, David as he continues to prattle on about his whatever. He seems like a nice guy, kinda reminds you of that character from Pleseantville, the husband who kept saying where’s my dinner.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, but I need to speak to Ms. Y/L/N.” You both turn to see who is addressing you.

 Fuck me, he’s here.

He and his partner, Agent Dean Smith, showed up your workplace this morning about the weird event in HR department. They had every red blooded woman, and a few of the guys, drooling in their lattes. 

After your interview with Agent Smith, who’d been flirting with everyone female with a pulse during their interviews, he asked you for drinks and whatever.

It had been extremely tempting, he was ridiculously good looking with those succulent full lips, green eyes, bowed just enough for you to fit perfectly between legs and cinnamon freckles that made you wonder if he’s covered everywhere in them.

You hated to admit it’s been to damn long since any man has giving you such a through fucking, you know, the type that makes your legs shake uncontrollably when you cum and walk funny for days.

You had reluctantly..very reluctantly.. turned him down. The reason being the man standing behind you.

“And who might you be?” Ralph maybe, asks rudely.

 Agent Samuel Wesson flashes his FBI credentials at possibly John before turning to addresses you. He’s delicious, literally walking sex with those long, long legs.

“Ms. Y/L/N, could we go somewhere more private? I have some questions that need clarification.”  Unable to answer because your brain has migrated to your pussy that’s dripping wet from the sound of his deep, whiskey-honey voice alone.

Crossing your legs you clenched your thighs together trying to cover your down south problem but he tracks your movement with those indelible, fox slanted eyes and smirks.

Shit.

“Look, I don't care if your President...” Steve, IDK, says standing up to get in his face but falls short, literally, by several inches.

Biting on the inside of your cheek to stop bursting out in laughter you take a sip of the horrid wine to compose yourself because there is absolutely no way in hell your going to pass up on the opportunity to make time with this gorgeous mountain of a man who’s literally made you cum without even touching you. 

Standing up you insert yourself between them and play with Donny’s tie. “I’m so sorry, we were having such a good time, and I was thinking of asking you back to mine, but I’d feel awful if I know something and didn't help, please don't be mad at me.” You pout a bit, pretending to actually sound sorry, all the while internally cringing at the fucking drivel spewing out of your mouth to mollify whatchamacallit.

If anyone had asked you how you thought this night would have ended, never in a million would you have said that you’d be reclining on the hood of a ‘67 Impala in an empty field splitting a bottle of Knob Creek Whiskey with Samual Wesson, IE Sam Winchester, discussing everything from politics to debating if GOT’s ending was screwed up while stargazing.

Sam takes a long pull off the bottle before handing it back, “Why did you turn Dean down?” He inquires.

“I’ve been around long enough to know a player when I see one,” you take a long pull from the bottle, “and I’ve reached an age where I don’t and won’t be played.” You answer honestly handing the bottle to Sam.

He’s taking a drink when you cheekily add, “Besides, he’s too old for me.”

Coughing from the whiskey going down the wrong way Sam finally croaks out, “To old? He’s three years younger than you.” You raise an eyebrow at that.

“You know how old I am?” 

Sam starts peeling off the bottles label, “Yeah, I do. I checked out everyone who had any connection to the victim. I didn’t think you’d be interested, Dean’s well...Dean. Women are always attracted to him but then he said you turned him down and....”

“...you followed me to that bar hoping to get lucky?” It’s hard to see under the moonlight but you know he’s blushing, “I’ll admit it was sorely tempting but I turned Dean down because you're more my type.” Sam looked up in surprise. 

You shift towards him reaching for the bottle, “Look, I like younger men, it's my thing and I find I have more in common with them. Nobody thinks twice about some old fart fucking a twenty something, but if an older woman is sexually adventurous, oh my god everyone goes spar! Lots of younger men today prefer being with someone who’s life doesn’t revolve around kids, can hold an intellectual conversation and isn’t looking to put a ring on it.

I came across this British blogger in her fifties dating men in their twenties and they were the ones doing the chasing. She came up with this new term for women like us, W.H.I.P-Women who are Hot, Intelligent and in their Prime. Fucking better than that old, tired, cliche Cougar.” 

Sam ruminants over what you said, “So sexually adventurous...ever do it on an Impala?” He asks with a lascivious grin.

”Nuh-uh,“ you answer running your tongue teasingly around the bottles lip before taking a drink. 

Sam's eyes dilate as he pulls the bottle away, brushing his lips against yours to taste the whiskey lingering on them.

Opening your mouth you catch his bottom lip, sucking on it as he tangles his hands into your hair, deepening the kiss as you work at opening the buttons of his shirt. Pushing against Sam's chest he sits back a bit so you can remove it before shifting him fully onto his back, allowing you to straddle his narrow hips and making your skirt ride up revealing your cheekster panties

Sam slips his hand between your obscenely spread thighs, roughly palming your clit through the material making you hiss, reaching to pull his hand away before your cumming to fast. He takes hold your ass in both of his big hands grips tightly pulling and pushing, making you roughly glide over his rapidly filling cloth covered cock. He’s keeping you right on edge but not allowing you to cum, the friction from the grinding eliciting moans from both of you. He sits both of you upright suddenly, gripping your shirts hem lifting it off revealing your bare breasts to him.

Sam bends forward taking your left nipple between his lips sucking on it then bits down hard enough you cry out from the pain/pleasure of it. Tangling both your hands in his hair you tug until he switches breasts to give the same treatment to your other nipple. Dragging him off your chest you resume kissing him hard, both of you start fighting for dominance.

Reaching down you unzip his pants, dipping your hand in to caress him. Sam's head drops back with a groan, exposing his neck. Your lips travel down his throat, stopping, sucking a bruise just above his collarbone.

Sliding backwards off the cars hood you finish stripping him until he's lying completely naked, legs wantonly spread out across the hood. You watch him grip his cock stroking himself as you discard the last of your own clothes before climbing back on the car.

“You’re stunning,” Sam breathily says stroking himself harder.

Keeping eye contact you place your hand over his, guiding him down to firmly grip the base of his twitching cock to steady it as you move your hands around on the hood to balance yourself, bending over to flick your tongue along the underside of his shaft up to that specific sensitive area, your tongue teasing the nerves there, making Sam shiver and noisily start panting before slowly sliding up to the slit, lapping at the precum leaking from the tip before wrapping your lips around his cock and start steadily bobbing up and down, taking his ample cock as deep as you can without gagging.

“Oh fuck yesss..feels so good,” Sam moans out as his muscles jerk from the way your tongue is moving over his cock that’s suctioned tight in your mouth.

Pulling off you stroke your hand up and down his long, thick shaft, twisting towards the tip while watching Sam massage his balls.

Sam's head thunks against the windshield as his breaths coming out harsh and broken, hips bucking wildly around from the combined stimulation.

“Fuckingfuck... fuuuu...gonna…’ was all the warning he gives before spilling hot liquid over your fingers and spurting onto the Impalas hood, painting it with white splatters as you continue stroking lightly with your cum covered fingers, easing him through the aftershocks till Sam reaches down pulling you off, to sensitive for anymore touching.

Sitting up Sam cups your cheeks in his big hands staring intently at you with lust blown chameleon eyes. “How the fuck did you do that, I haven’t cum that fast since puberty.”

Instead of saying anything, you insert your cum covered fingers one by one into you mouth, sucking and licking till your hands clean of his spending. He wraps his big hand around your wrist pulling your hand away and deeply kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. 

“Backseat now.” He growls getting off the hood and still holding your wrist gathers the discarded clothes with his other hand before dragging you with him around the car.

Opening the door he urges you to slide across the bench seat until you lying back against the other door legs spread wide to accommodate him as he’s climbing between them, somehow fitting his immense frame in the car.

Sam runs his long, slender fingers along the inside of your thighs, over your hips and stomach, studying every tremble and shiver to his touch moving to lightly stroke between your folds, inserting two fingers into your soaked channel searching for that spot. “Hmmm..” You moan out as Sam finds it.

Somehow he amazingly folds himself up and spreading his fingers to stretch your opening to delve his tongue into your core wanting a taste while continuing to stroke your thighs and hips with his other hand to keep you stimulated.

“Fuuuccckk,” the only warning you can give as you climax.

Sam adjusts the movements of his hand to keep working your swollen g spot, pushing you towards another orgasm.

The car fills with the wet squelching sounds with his fingers moving in and out of your drooling cunt as nonsensical noises come out of your mouth at the same time. 

“Uhhh...to much….can’t…”  your barley able to pant out pushing on the seat back trying to get some leverage to move away from him.

“Yes you can, cum for me again, I want to see you squirt, ruin the seat.” Sam growls out pinning both of your hands in his left one against the doors window.

You can feel it starting deep inside, begging for release, but your massively overstimulated and your body keeps fighting it.

 “Just let go, I know you can,” Sam says in a calm, level voice, stark contrast to his animalistic actions, “let it happen…let go!” Your bodies shaking violently, hips thrusting up off the seat as your orgasm hits so hard you silently scream, your inner muscles spasming your release, flooding over his wrist and hand onto the leather seat below.

He briefly continues the steady movement of his fingers then gently pulls them out as your walls continue clenching around nothing.

Releasing your hands he picks up your discarded skirt wiping your overused pussy tenderly, cleaning you up as much as possible before lifting your hips and placing the old army blanket on the seat and lying down behind you spoons your quivering body till it’s calmed.

 “You ok?” He asks softly stroking your arm, soothing you. “Yeah, better than ok,” you drowsily murmur, “what possessed you to recreate the night we meet?”

“Wanted to do something special for our fourth anniversary.” He lovingly replies nuzzling your neck.

 “And your birthday,” you feel Sam make a face at being reminded he is now thirty-six. “Why is this one bothering you, they never have before.”

 “Its stupid,” he sighs, making you turn your head enough to look at him. “Dean noticed that grey hair and..”

“..gave you shit about it. You could ignore him.”

“Mission impossible, it’s Dean” Sam says, sighing again.

“Hmm, well then there's only one option...Winchester him.” You say looking serious.

Sam smiles at your suggestion. It had been to damn long since he had pranked Dean and payback was way overdue. 

“See, with age comes wisdom, grasshopper”

#cbrkinkchallenge #sam winchester x reader #updated version #supernatural #sam winchester smut #spn #sam winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester #spnsamwinchester #spn fanfic

[magpiemorality]

Are We Into It?! pt.7

Sometimes fixing old hurts brings them back.

Warnings for this chapter: Blood, injury, fighting. Described but not serious.

First | Previous 

***

It was never going to be half as easy as that. Very much a case of easier said than done...

Remus and Roman started arguing again so fast Patton nearly dived for cover, and no one- least of all them- even knew what they were howling at each other but the weapons came out and that was far enough.

Logan threw himself to wrestle the sword from Roman as Deceit grabbed Remus by the face and tried to quickly talk him down, petting his anger-flushed cheek to soothe him.

"This won't work," Virgil hissed from the bed, curled back up like a frightened hedgehog. "We're never going to just talk things through!"

"We already have!" Logan protested. "You and I have discussed and I rightly apologised. And Deceit-" Deceit looked up from Remus with a raised eyebrow. "I think the willingness to try counts for a lot."

Virgil snorted, and not nicely. "Sure. And Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee are so willing to sort out their issues..."

The silence fell so suddenly over the room that Deceit had to try and subtly pop his ears to double check he could still hear. It was broken by a little sniff from Patton, clearly already overwhelmed. Deceit felt a rush of anger towards him. Why did he  get to be overwhelmed and sorry and have that be it? Why didn't he have a splitting headache and have to grit his teeth and push on through every crisis they'd ever had? He was probably only here to be absolved of all his sins so he could go on living his pretty perfect Patton life, and he ought to be the one with his head split into two perfect pieces-

He let go of Remus abruptly, looking at him sharply in betrayal. "You mojoed me!" Remus looked faintly ashamed but didn't deny it, raising his chin. "You-" Deceit couldn't stop blinking. His eyes hurt, maybe they were too dry in the hotel room air or something, so he rubbed them and it got worse, matching the increasing weight in his chest.

"I just wanted you to let go, Dee..." Remus mumbled. Deceit stood up. "Dee?"

"You and Roman are going somewhere else and you two can fight each other to the damn death until one of you emerges victorious or you sort your shit out, for all I care!" He shouted, hands balling into fists.

Remus did look ashamed then. "Dee I'm so-"

"Don't! Don't say that. Just go, please. Leave the grown ups here to sort the real issues out." It was hurtful, but it was meant to be. He turned away from Remus's stricken face, not watching as Logan took Roman aside and murmured to him. A new door opened up and Roman hurried through, followed by a more reticent Remus, who kept looking over his shoulder to see if Deceit would acknowledge him. He didn't.

Deceit sat back down heavily on the edge of the bed, gripping it tightly. "We should- we should get on with it. Who knows how long they'll be?" He muttered.

"Maybe we should talk about this first, kiddo-"

"I am not your kiddo, Patton," Deceit snapped. "Don't call me that."

Morality blinked, looking to Logan for help before acquiescing. "Oh-okay, Deceit. Sorry. Is there, um, anything else that you'd like u- me to change?"

Everything? The past, maybe? Deceit rubbed his hands over his eyes, leaving them there while he tried to organise his thoughts into something coherent. The sensation of weight dipping the mattress next to him caught him by surprise, and he uncovered an eye to see Virgil sitting next to him with a nervous expression, hand halfway out towards his shoulder. It paused there under the scrutiny, but Deceit swallowed down his bitter immediate response and nodded.

It felt nice, the warmth of anxiety leaving him and the small gesture of support from someone he'd thought he may have lost it from forever. It was just enough to topple the weight he'd been feeling and he sniffed.

Just once.

But once was all it took for the barriers to be overwhelmed by the flood building up behind them. He cried into Virgil's waiting arms, uncaring of who might be watching.

The door shut behind Remus and Roman with a definite thump, signalling the start of their mandated alone time. It was hard to feel the same burning anger and bitterness when he felt so damn guilty though. Dee had looked... heartbroken. Like Remus had taken the last of his hope from him somehow, and so when Roman's sword came towards his head he didn't move but waited. Maybe being beheaded would be fun and he could just pretend to be the headless horseman and the cheshire cat all at once? Maybe it wouldn't work and he'd turn out like Nearly Headless Nick, which was even cooler...

But Roman stopped in time, scowling at his estranged twin. "Why aren't you fighting back?!" He demanded. "You wanted this! You wanted to pick a damn fight and now here we are. So fight!"

"Ugh, you're so dramatic. And honourable. Why are you so damn honourable?" Remus scowled right back at him.

"Uh, I don't know, probably because I got all the goodness?" Roman taunted him. "And you don't even try not to be stinky and gross and a monster, so you can't talk!"

There was a clang when the morning star hit the sword, only just blocked by Roman as Remus swung at him out of the blue, face twisted. "I don't try?! I tried every day for years! I tried to be different, to be good! To be allowed to come back! I even tried to join back with you, to split again, but there's not anything left in me that's not bad so I couldn't!" He shouted, forcing Roman back and back and back with heavy swings of his weapon, ringing out on the strong but significantly more delicate katana Roman wielded. "I can't be different."

The morning star dropped just as Roman swung and Remus closed his eyes, waiting for the glorious wet thunk of impact against his side.

Somehow Roman managed to pull the blow at the last second, enough that even with momentum it only grazed a hot, thin line at an angle crossing his chest, cutting through his clothes and leaving a pink mark that darkened rapidly as it began to bleed. Remus cackled, wiping his finger through it and dropping to his knees in triumph. At last! Roman had been the one to hurt him! He wasn't perfect after all!

The laughter startled Roman out of his haze, frozen by the captivating sight of the injury. He jumped forwards, dropping his sword and pressing his hand to the wound. It was shallow and not bleeding too heavily, but he still only ended up with red on his hands, hands that Remus caught by the wrists and twisted to show to him with a blissful smile as Roman tried to breathe. "Look, we're not so different." Remus whispered, a single inky black tear rolling down from pure joy. He let go of Roman's hands to press his own to them, palm to palm, their fingers matching perfectly. "We're not so different-"

Roman threw himself backwards, glaring at Remus hotly. He nearly ran a hand over his face before he remembered, conjuring a cloth to quickly scrub the blood off and not looking at his brother. "We are not the same. You want to hurt me because it makes you feel good. I just want to stop you. And that was an accident- you wanted to be hit!"

"And you still did it! You can't-"

"I am not like you! I am better and kinder and good!"

Remus finally fell quiet, the manic energy fading. He stood up, waving a hand to repair his clothes, even though the dark stain could be seen through them. "There's no point to this, is there," he said quietly. "When they broke us they really broke us. You know, I often wonder if I'm even Creativity anymore. Maybe we were always more and then you got all that, and I got... something else. Meanness, probably. Ugliness, inside. Maybe I really could be Duke of Trash..."

"Stop trying to get me to pity you!" Roman yelled, throwing the cloth. "I don't!"

"Oh that is abundantly clear, thank you," Remus hissed.

Roman fought the childish urge to stick out his tongue. "I want to go home. And I want everything to go back to normal. I don't like this. I don't like feeling bad like this."

"Guilt, such a fu-"

"No, bad. Like I'm the bad guy." That caught Remus's attention and he turned around to look at his brother. "I made people hurt and I didn't mean to. I make you hurt and I say these things and I- I'm not supposed to be like this, Remus! I'm supposed to be the good guy!" He hid his face in his knees.

Remus sighed and sat down where he was, keeping some distance between them. "I'm supposed to be the bad guy. But I hurt someone... and I didn't mean to do that either. That's not the kind of bad guy I want to be. I just want- Roman I just want to do my job. I want Thomas to be amazing and free and wildly passionate about everything. I don't want him to be scared of anything. And I don't want to be bad because I do that. I think it's the same for D- for Dee."

"But that's the opposite of what Patton and Virgil want, and what Logan would say is good!"

Remus snorted, clicking his fingers so an extra large pair of glasses appeared on his face. "And Logan would say something silly like," he affected a serious voice, "'Homo Sapiens are supposed to function in a balance in all aspects of life with a conscious effort towards shades of grey thinking'. Or would it be 50 shades of grey thinking..."

Without thinking Roman giggled. He clapped a hand over his mouth quickly to hide it but the damage was done. "I don't think that's what it should be. Patton would pitch a fit if Thomas started thinking like that..."

"Oh I know, wouldn't it be hilarious?" Remus grinned. His smile fell. "But... I don't want you to feel like the bad guy either, okay Ro? It's not a nice way to feel. Not that kind of bad, anyway. But can you... maybe stop making me feel that way too?" Roman groaned. "I know, it's not easy. But can't we just... duel it out when we need to instead of being really actually mean?"

"It would be better for Thomas..." Roman said slowly. "We could try it out a bit? Have a temporary bad guy-good guy team up to defeat the worst villain of all... um... uh..." He struggled to think of what that might be and Remus rolled his eyes.

"The Dragon Witch still around?"

"Oh yes! The Dragon Witch! We'll stay teamed up until then. And you can be the... antihero. Maybe. If that works."

Remus didn't go to hug his brother but it was a strong impulse. He did offer his hand though, and they stood up, the room fading out as they walked to the door. "You think they're done in there?"

"There's only one way to find out."

– Next

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