#just fucked right off to another dimension and never even Tried to come home

[howaboutalittlehelpneos]

Sadfunny part is he very much did ask to get manhandled into a different dimension. That mf walked into that dimensional transporter after 13 yr old Ceo is like "Dont do anything" and he didnt even leave behind a note.

Real and true, he doesn't even Talk to his wife when he finally comes back and only focuses on Yuya, like. Hello. Your hot wife is right there. Can you at least look at her.

[formulapookie]

19 "Can I hold your hand?" and rosquez please if you'd like < 3

It's cold, really cold right now, the storm has made a mess outside, the communications are cut off and they're stuck in a stupid house in the mountains far from every kind of human connection.

Vale has been trying to make the phone work for one hour now without any kind of success.

Pecco, Franky and Diggia are in another house, a bit far from this one.

Vale would like to know what the fuck went through Ducati's head to make them all go there for the PR shit.

Him. And Marquez. In the mountains.

He hasn't spoke to the spaniard yet, he thought Pecco was the one in the house currently, and he needed to ask a question, but when Marc had come downstairs the storm had begun and none of them could be freed from the other's presence.

Marc is shivering he notices, despite wearing a comfortable hoodie he's clearly cold, and for another stupid reason they don't have been given blankets to stay there.

He debates whether to do this or not, maybe he could let Marc freeze and it would be over like this.

He ultimately decides not to commit homicide and removes his own hoodie, passing it to Marc.

"No no I'm ok I'm not cold"

"You're shivering"

"I - it's not the cold"

"Then what is it? Enlighten me"

"Why you have to be an asshole?"

"You're giving stupid answers"

"I. I'm scared of the storm. I fear we'll be blocked here forever if it doesn't stop. I don't like to feel trapped"

It strikes Vale now.

How despite having grown Marc is still somehow a kid. Scared of a storm. Scared of being caged.

"You're scared of the storm"

"Don't joke about it Vale"

"I'm not joking it's just. Doesn't seem like you"

"Yeah and what would you know about what seems like me? WE haven't spoken in God knows how long"

"Well I do remember you liked how I made coffee because it was tastier than the one you had home"

Marc stops his pacing around, and looks deeply into Vale's eyes. Almost grazing his soul.

"I remember you're scared of wasps and for some reason not of bees"

"They're different and wasps are cruel, bees are not"

"Mh if you think so"

While the temperature between them seems to be warming the one in the house is rapidly dropping, and Vale tries to light up the chimney.

"Billion dollar man knows how to light up a chimney? I'm impressed"

"Allora, I'm not an idiot Marc eh, I know how to do things"

And Marc agrees. He also would agree to the fact Vale looks hot while doing them.

The heat provided from the wood burning is not much, but it's something, and Marc goes to sit directly in front of it, behind an imaginary line Vale traced not to make him burn.

He's in the kitchen meanwhile, making something, and the storm is not hinting to an end, it rather seems to be increasing in force and dimension.

And it's scary.

Marc feels more and more like he's going to die in there, but can't tell Vale.

He already told him he's scared, he can't tell him he fears he'll die trapped in here now.

He smells coffee, and before he realizes there's a cup in front of him.

"no sugar right? You are on a diet I suppose"

"Yeah no sugar. I mean we're all on a diet"

"Have you seen one of my riders following it after podiums?"

"No"

"There you go. You instead I never see you take something from the buffet"

"You look at me?"

"You and Pecco share a team. I see you doing stuff, I don't look"

At a particularly harsh blow of wind and snow against the window Marc winches, and his hertbeat can be heard in the whole house.

He feels so stupid right now, weak even, he's scared of the storm like a child.

He feels Vale scooting closer to him, and turns around in surprise but Vale is quicker.

"Can I hold your hand? So you are less scared"

And it's extremely stupid on both their parts, it seems like they're stupid teenagers who don't know how to talk to one another.

"Yeah"

They stay silent in fact, Vale just draws small circles on Marc's hand, slowly helping him relax, and eventually drift to sleep.

Vale doesn't know quite well what to do.

He's just offered to hold his hand and now Marc has fallen asleep with their hands tangled together. He looks cute tho.

No.

No no no let's not. Let's not dive into that right now.

But he truly looks ethereal.

His lines, the one that come up when he's awake and in pain and PR acting all day disappear.

He looks younger than he is, way younger than the 32 year old man he should see at his side.

He doesn't remove his hand from the hold. He could, but he doesn't.

He'll do it in the morning. Yeah. He'll wake up first and he will break the hold and never speak of this to anyone.

How he held Marc's hand during a storm because he was scared.

The morning after he does not wake first.

The other boys manage to make their way to the hut where the two of them were staying, and had basically broken in, since none of the two answered.

"I'm telling you guys, they killed each other"

"They're just sleeping pecco don't worry"

"You don't know anything Diggia they could have seriously killed each other"

"Or" there came Franky, who honestly was just fed up with the shenanigans between the two men. "They fucked"

"Ah shut up Franky"

They walk around the hut for a bit until they end up near the chimney, breath held by all three of them.

Marc is hugging Vale like a koala, none of them awake yet, the wood now turned to ash but still it's warm around the two.

Vale has got an arm around Marc's body, keeping him tight against him, and their hands are close.

Still in a hold, presumably from the day before Pecco supposes, as the three of them make their way back out to their own hut.

"Well that was close to my bet I'd say"

"I'm never gonna forget boss with Marquez now"

"Oh trust me Diggia you have seen nothing"

Vale wakes when Pecco shuts the door a bit too harshly, realising the position they both are in.

He should stop holding Marc's hand now right?

Right.

He'll do it later. When Marc is awake.

Maybe.

[vshushmshu]

two slow dancers

forward with left, backward with right. right to the side, left to the side. close left to right, close right to left. step back with right, step forward with left. to the side with left, to the side with right. close right with left, close left with right.

it was easy, or at least it was supposed to be, but you and leo had fumbled over each other far more times than you could count on both hands. you didn’t know why he was so determined to go to your stupid school dance with you, since you originally weren’t even going to go. he had caught you in the middle of a conversation with april about it, lamenting how her “human bestie” wasn’t gonna be going with her to the dance, and the red eared slider naturally butted himself into the mix, exclaiming smugly, “nahh, he’d definitely wanna go with me instead, since we’re also the bestest of friends!! isn’t that right, bestest friend?”

the absolute deadpan look you had given him was seemingly was too vague for a no, so you groaned, “blue, i was never gonna go, and you hauling your turtle ass over to?? my?? school?? ..it won’t change my mind. besides, how would you even get in without people calling 911 on you saying they spotted a freakazoid crawling around the gym?”

“ugh, whatever.. my bestie-westie is so mean to me…” he pouted at you for a moment, before you could almost see the imaginary lightbulb above his head fizzle on, and the slider gave you a cheeky smile, “oh! i could cash in a favor with sunita! she has that cloaking brooch, right? i’ll blend right in!”

april side eyed him, cocking a brow, “cash in a favor? with ‘nita? what the fuck kind of pickle did you guys get into for her to ask you for a favor?”

leo crossed his arms, huffing snootily while raising his snout to the air like he smelled sour booty, “well, nothing for yoouuu to worry about, i’m just trustworthy like that! anyways-!”

he scooted over to stand next to you, wrapping an arm around your torso with a dismissive wave of his hand at april, to which the girl snorted at your pained expression, “-we! have some practicing to do, don’t we~?”

“did you just vocalize a squiggly liNEEEAHHHH-“

the red eared slider had tried to portal you two away from a less than impressed april for dramatic effect, but now you two were desperately clinging to each other, as well as the tip of the burj khalifa, and scatting your britches. it took a while for him to figure out how to portal you guys back to somewhere that wasn’t another dimension and was closer to either of your homes, slashing ōdachis through the air around the pair of you. you think he teared up a little every time he looked down, though you definitely weren’t any better. at least you got a nice view of dubai?

you might’ve laughed out loud, because he looked back at your face instead of the two pairs of feet below, shoulders stiff while he chuckled back, “what, am i that bad?”

blinking back to the present, the corners of your lips quirked up a little as you narrowly avoided tripping him, guiding the both of you to turn just the slightest with his hand in yours, “i think we both are, don’t worry.. are you sure you wanna do this, though? because i really don’t.”

leo rolled his eyes, letting you rotate the both of your forms across of the roof with the arm you had around his midsection, grinning while still mentally keeping up with the steps he was supposed to take, “aw, come on! you never wanna do anything fun, and we never hang out! i’m pretty sure.”

looking down at your feet for a split second in satisfaction at the move being pulled off, you raised a brow at him and huffed, “mhm, sure, we totally don’t hang out like every other day.”

he squinted at you for a moment while feet continued, and you felt him tapping a green finger on your shoulder while he held onto it, “okay, whatever, but you get the point!”

he almost stepped forwards a little too far, and you scooted your foot back to avoid it getting stepped on, mumbling a “watch out” while he whispered “my bad.” you both watched your feet to make sure you continued without slip-ups for a moment, and then you raised your head to tilt it at him, “for the record, i really don’t.”

he grumbled, eyes darting up to look at your face for a split second before going back down to watch below, “man.. what i mean is that, we never do anything cool or special y’know-?”

you laughed a bit, squeezing the hand that relied on yours to guide, “huh? is fighting crime once a week minimum not cool enough for you? is neon leon too jaded now?”

the both of you twisted to spin a bit across the rooftop again, and leo laughed along with you when you picked him up a bit through the twirl, kicking his feet when they lifted off the ground, “pfft- wh- no! i’m not an expensive stone, what?? no but-”

a brow raised, but you only interjected again for a short moment with a snort, “we need to get you a dictionary.”

he tried to scowl at you, but it didn’t really last, “shut up! what i’m trying to say, is that i wanna make special memories! ones where we can look back while we’re out doing your dumb patrols and be like “hey remember when i totally dramatically swept you off your feet that one time at your highschool dance for people that come home,” y’know? bestest friend stuff!”

you blinked owlishly at him, and he went quiet, keeping his eyes on your guys’ now mostly fluid movement. you could finally keep track of where your feet were going to go next, after weeks of practicing and sore legs, to where there was starting to be little thought put into leading the turtle along in the simple box step dance. a little smile on your face, “that’s… i don’t think that’s how it’d go exactly, but yeah. when you put it like that, me too, i guess.”

he finally looked back up at you, and was still quiet for a little longer, before the arm around your neck brought you two closer while he beamed, “good.. we’re gonna have so many cool ass memories to look back on, i swear! we’ll be old and wrinkled, laughing about another stupid thing ‘till our dentures fall out!”

you snickered, the red eared slider following suit, and you tugged him along as the two of you slowed the dance, “really? we’re still gonna be “the bestest friends” until decrepit and senile?”

leo gave you a devious smirk, wiggling his eyebrows while you fought the urge to punch him in the middle of your simplified practice waltz, “of course.”

“…that’s pretty gay.”

“WHATEVER! SPIN ME AGAIN!”

“FINE.”

the actual dance seemed to have disappointed leo, not really knowing what to expect other than something out of highschool musical and having his dreams crushed upon entry. he was standing beside you and slurping at some punch like a wet cat, decked out in formal wear he no doubt stole from donnie, speaking of whom, probably also previously stole it from a random name-brand store (the purple one was fashion forward, moderately surprising). the cloaking brooch was pinned to the inside of his coat pocket, giving him the look of an average teenager that for some reason, bothered to come to the lackluster “party” held in the school gym. and yes, he went through with the effort to wear a whole suit and everything, because “it’s just how it works, okay?!”

you, meanwhile, had just bought a t-shirt with a tux design on it, and threw on some jeans with sneakers in the most gloriously low-effort homecoming outfit. the dance was coming to an end, really only being a bunch of kids either standing around awkwardly on the dance floor or twerking on each other, and you cringed a little while kicking at a balloon that bobbled over. they had either not left room for any actual dancing the entire three hours, or it had just not been socially acceptable at the time to actually do the dance you both practiced, since every couple had immediately started making out the moment the slow dance section came up. both you and leo had covered each others eyes when you noticed, and laughed at each other.

now though, he looked dejected while swishing around the last of his punch in his cup, and then tilting his head back to down it. you glanced nervously at april, who had been chatting it up with cass for most of the time since you had “abandoned her” when she asked you before leo forced you to go, and they seemed to be hitting it off. you smiled a little, glad, and then looked back at the disguised turtle still boredly observing everything at your side, plastic red solo cup tossed to the side along with the other trash littering the scuffed floor, “hey leo?”

his attention immediately locked on you when you finally said something, and he sighed, scratching at his human-looking cheek, “yeah? i can see why you didn’t wanna go now, by the way.. this kinda sucks nuts.”

“don’t wanna say i told you so, but,” you ended the statement with a shrug, laughing a little. he grumbled, and you patted his back, or well, shell in disguise, “hey! on the bright side, we can always reminisce on how we cha-cha-slided with a bunch of horny teenagers!”

the turtle’s pained expression made you choke on any other words you were going to say for a moment, and you leaned against him for support while wheezing, the subject rolling his eyes, “uhuh, har dee har, laugh it up… we better tell april we’re leaving, i’m done with this.”

you placed a hand on his chest to stop him, and he did, waiting for your breath to catch up with you. you were grateful, breathing out any lasting chuckles while he raised a human brow at you in question, “w-wait! pfft- nono! we can still dance if you wanna live out your teenage dreams, just maybe when everyone is gone, yeah?”

leo blinked at you for a moment, “when everyone is gone?”

nodding, you gestured to the general mass of sweaty hormonal minors having tiktok dance-offs, which was really just them tweaking out with their hands with an occasional stomp of their feet, “yeah, we can wait for a bit until the gym is cleared out, and then we’ll have the floor to ourselves. how’s that sound, blue?”

he raised a hand to his chin, pretending to stroke an imaginary beard, and he laughed when you deadpanned at him, “sounds good to me… let’s go bother april and goth chick until then. they’re having too much fun!”

leo took your hand, making you follow along with him while you almost stumbled to catch up, waving at the two on the opposite side of the room laughing at something the other said.

the both of you had hid in the folded up bleachers as the custodian cursed the amount of trash the kids left in the gym, limbs pretzeled together and trying your best to scooch back in fear they find you both giggling like dumbasses. they eventually left, closing the door behind them with a sigh, and you two clawed your way out the tight space. you high-fived the disguised turtle with cracking limbs, while he rubbed his sore shell wrapped in magic human backside with a whine, and you both helped each other hop down to what was once “the dance floor,” now just the land of dreaded pacer tests once more. your sneakers squeaked against the gym’s floor as you walked to the middle, the pair of you cringing at the way the sound reverberated through the empty space, and you smoothed down your precious now-wrinkled shirt while turning to face leo, “well, we did it.”

he looked around in surprise, seemingly at how barren the gymnasium seemed now, and nodded along, “that we did.. we don’t even have music though, how are we gonna dance?”

you shrugged, taking his hand to tug him over gently, and he let you, but the disguised turtle having five fingers instead of the three you had to adjust to weirded you out, “we don’t need tchaikovsky or something, half the time we’ve been practicing without any music at all. take off the brooch.”

the boy’s eyes widened. it was so strange to see a nose on his face, and it was stranger when you booped it and he flinched just the slightest, a hand already reaching into his coat pocket to take it off. he paused in his movement for just a second, head swiveling to the doorway nervously, “uh.. are you sure? it’d be taking a risk. what if someone comes in looking for their like, i dunno, wallet or something??”

your lips pursed, and you tapped your fingers against his side that you were loosely holding, raising a brow but letting him take his time, “leo, everyone buys the tickets before they come. if someone brought their wallet here to pay for the overpriced snacks they sell, don’t you think they deserve to get traumatized by a short mutant turtle shittily dancing with some random kid?”

fighting a smile, he grumbled a “whatever, i’ll be tall as hell one day, and you’ll be sniveling and seething,” and then unpinned the brooch to let it simply sit in his pocket, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with your question. one magical girl detransformation later found you the red eared slider you had been forced to practice with for a near month, eyes crinkled as you assumed your positions. you stepped forward with your left foot, the turtle stepping back with his right, and feet met their respective pair as you both stepped to the side, leading him to spin along. the two of you continued like this across the empty gymnasium, leo laughing every time you picked him up off the ground to twirl him, leaving you beaming while humming something waltz-like to satisfy.

it was fun, and the both of you kept going till you slowed as you neared the middle of the scuffed wooden floor once more, breathing uneven while the dimming sunlight shone from the too-high windows. you resolved for one more spin to end off the dance with another bout of giggles from the slider, and he hugged you close to find purchase when you heaved him up to whirl him to the middle, tuckered out smiles from the both of you while he let out a high pitched school girl-like titter. you let out a snort that broke your murmurs of a tune, finally stopping to rest your head against his shoulder, trying to catch your breath, “was it.. hh.. was that a good memory?”

leo wasn’t as worn out as you, considering the fucker had been spun into the air more times than you could count with your sore arms, expression something of unbridled joy while he let you lean against him because he did the same against you, “pff- are you kidding? it was one of the best! i hope i never get dementia.”

you sniggered, shoulders shaking while he let out an amused laugh, like he didn’t expect that to get you, “can mutant turtles even get dementia?”

the slider rolled his eyes, something you couldn’t see, but instead heard in his tone with lingering chuckles, “well, i sure hope not, because i wanna remember this forever! i’ll just make donnie reverse engineer my brain if i ever do.”

your breathing had settled into its usual patterns again, and you pulled away slightly to give him a pointed look, “yeah, now i hope not too, ‘cause purple is gonna one hundred percent lobotomize your goofy self.”

he let out an indignant scoff at the idea, before he seemed to mull over it again, and then nodded solemnly in agreement. you shook your head with a grin, pointing to the exit, “anyways, wanna skedaddle? i’m down for some dinner after i pick that lock.”

the slider pinned on the brooch once more, and you frowned just a bit at the fact that he had a nose again, the skin-walker offering you a nasty smirk back with a raise of his eyebrows, “pick the lock? well, the more you know. lead the way, bestest buddy, i’m just about starved!”

you rolled your eyes as he dramatically pointed towards the exit, striking some extravagant pose while you unsheathed a couple paper clips, urging your friend to follow you. he did with nothing but a short laugh at how you fiddled with the little metallic school supplies, cheering you on until you both were home free.

the turtle had caught you out in the commons again, making some tea in the wee hours of the morning. you don’t know how long he had stood there watching you, until he let out a sigh that alerted you of his presence, tense shoulders immediately slumping when you recognized his footsteps, “don’t scare me like that, commander.”

his prosthetic was off tonight, only one arm wrapping around your stomach, careful not to lean on your back while you stirred the barest of sugar into your tea, “commander? ha, what happened to leo? or even blue?”

you let yourself laugh, raising a brow and pausing to take a testing sip of the tea, not caring it was still bitter because you didn’t want to waste sweetener, “psh- okay, bestest friend, why are you still up? don’t we need to gather some recruits to go for a supply run at noon?”

a laugh in your ear, surprised, and then he nuzzled into your cheek, “wow, been a while since that, and usually i start it! did you finally decide we’re best friends after all?”

you huffed, setting the tea down with little to no trembling to turn and face him, the slider immediately backing away to give you room, “oh shut up, leon, it’s been like… fifteen years, at the least? and you’re avoiding my question.”

he pouted, flicking the middle of your forehead lightly, snickering when you rubbed it with a grumble, “that’s true, and i’m not! you just get a.. delayed answer, yeah.”

you raised a brow, “when’s that answer gonna come around, then?”

“…”

the turtle instead pulled you away from your precious tea, and you whisper screamed at him while he whisper laughed at your misery, knowing you weren’t in any actual pain at the fact that your limbs were still uselessly flailing. you gave up pretty quick, simply slumping in his arms as he walked you both over to the middle of a cleared out area in the commons, and you groaned, “leo, what are you doing?”

he set you down onto the ground again, smiling cheekily, finally having something that wasn’t exhaustion in his eyes for now, “dancing.”

you sputtered, “wh- what?? why??? i don’t even know if i remember the steps anymore!”

the red eared slider let out a gasp that wasn’t as played up as it could be, lightly covering his mouth with his only remaining hand, “ohmigosh, does that mean that you got dementia before me?! i’m so sorry!”

the was a pathetic smack to his plastron, and he sniggered, “you know what i mean! i can’t even twirl you around like some damn princess anymore, look at you!”

leo was now a head and a half taller than you, something you bitterly griped about whenever he even so much as mentioned it, and his smile much too smug for your liking when he had first noticed he grew even just a tad more than you. apparently mutant turtles were just bound to keep growing despite the point where humans stopped, and the now flipped height difference always found a way to get under your nerves despite the literal apocalypse you were trying to survive. the turtle looked down at himself, then back at you with a “tsk,” trying not to appear as embarrassed as he was at what you could still recall, “well, you don’t have to lift me up, okay! jeez, can a guy just shittily dance with his buddy as the sun rises?”

you laughed, shaking your head in a silent surrender the slider was eager to accept, a hand making its way to your hip while you rested yours the best you could on his shoulders, “you might be the cheesiest fucking turtle i know, y’know that?”

he frowned at you in distaste, sticking his tongue out while you rolled your eyes, and then stepped forward with his left, “well, you never say no to anything i wanna do, so who’s the real weirdo, huh?”

you stepped your right foot back, about to take his other hand when you remembered he didn’t have one, and he snorted as you rested your hand at his shoulder once more, huffing, “spoiler alert, it’s still you.”

you both sniggered under your breaths, the slider leading you to rotate the both of you along the empty ground, “oh, shut up.”

the two of you continued like that for a while, slowly orbiting around nothing as you hummed, faces tired but content. that is, until leo’s arm around you tightened a little more, careful not to agitate any corroded nerves, and your feet left the ground. your panic turned to embarrassed giggling as he whirled you around, face hot and a hand punching him lightly while the other arm held on for dear life, and his face lit up, “hehehAHAH- HEY!! what happened to no twirling??!”

he spun a couple times until setting you down once more, sluggishly picking up the dance steps with joy twinkling in crinkled eyes looking down at you, meanwhile you beamed back up at him with raised brows, “psh, i said you didn’t have to lift me up, nothing about the opposite. plus, i can see why you did it for me so many times!”

you spent most of the sleepy dance with a burning face rested on his chest after that, to which he laughed teasingly at you, but said nothing else as he smoothed down your hair, continuing your humming for you. the slider still twirled you around a couple more times to get reactions, at which you couldn’t help but burst into giddy snickers every time you felt weightless, catching sight of leo’s face with something cherishing you had to rip your eyes away from. you could feel his arm bracing for yet another lift, and your cheeks hurt from your grin, the red eared slider rubbing his cheek against yours, “here we go, one more time! up, up and away-!”

he had barely suspended you up once more before someone cleared their throat a ways away, and you jolted, scrambling across the shoulders of the turtle holding you as his grip had gone slack. you hid behind his shell with a sweat, and you could hear donnie’s voice carry out to his brother, “what.. are you guys doing? it’s early.”

leo might’ve smiled, you couldn’t see either of their faces, but you would assume donnie yet again looked as if he had risen from the dead for more coffee, “good morning, dear brother! your face makes it seem like it’s still late at night! when’s the last time you got some sleep?”

you heard shuffling moving towards the kitchen area, and leo moved to face the soft-shell responsible for it in time, graciously avoiding you being seen sweaty and embarrassed, “i hate you both. homophobic now.”

that got a genuine chortle out of the slider, and your muscles slackened as you slumped down to the floor with a groan, blue turning a bit to catch a glimpse at you. it only made him start laughing even more, and you spotted donnie side-eyeing the both of you with an apathetic annoyance. leo helped you up, to which you gave him a grateful expression, and donnie piped up again after a sip of his freshly brewed coffee, “if you’re done being idiots now, you need to get ready for that supply run. i’ll be giving your “student” something new that’ll make his life a little easier, and run a couple diagnostics on the base’s defenses.”

blue cocked his head at purple, and you rubbed at your eyes, making your way around the island in search of the tea ripped away from you, “yeah, yeah, i know all that, but what are you giving casey? there’s only so many lethal weapons you can give the kid before it becomes overkill, donnie.”

the soft-shell had let you squeeze past him, looking over at your frown at a cup of tea gone cold with a quirk of his brow, before dragging his gaze back up to leo, “oh come on, the boy needs it if he wants to stay alive, plus it’s fun. i’ll just be giving him a grappling hook though, nothing special.”

leo squinted at him when he said “nothing special,” looking to you as you poured out your tea. you met his eyes blankly for a moment, thinking it over before shrugging, washing the mug and putting it away, “i mean, you can’t commit that many more accidental fatalities with a grappling hook compared to chainsaw hockey stick, so it’s fine in my book. maybe don’t let him loose with it in the base while he’s still learning how to use it, though.”

donnie and leo both nodded in agreement at that, and the matter of casey junior having yet another purple-patented device was settled, the inventor smiling to himself smugly, “i will also be relaying all of what i saw to mikey and april. this is payback.”

and with that, he sauntered out, picking up the pace after you registered what he said with wide eyes, chasing after him. leo watched the both of you run off, donnie fighting to keep the precious bean juice in his hands from spilling with evil cackles while you screamed at him in annoyance, the red slider simply shrugging and resolving to go tell casey the good news. he had fun, and you had fun. that’s all that mattered.

even if it was pretty gay.

[onlyonefork]

Our One Last Chance

Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanoff

Words: 1k

Genre: Angst, just PURE angst

Summary: Wanda tried her one last chance.

Warnings: swearing, attempted kidnapping, and uh…straight up murder so please do not read if you are not comfy!!!

There she was. Her back was turned as she shoveled the clothing inside the boxes but the messy red braid was irreplaceable. Beautiful, as if nothing ever changed. She couldn’t hear Wanda entering the room through the Madonna in her earbuds, yet the light flashing in her peripheral almost piqued her interest. Brushing it off as the sun peeking in the blinds, nothing got her attention more than who she thought was her lovely wife, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“You’re home early,” she spoke in a daze. “I didn’t even hear you come in. I thought your meeting was at-“

She glanced down to check the time on her watch but flipped around seeing the blackened fingertips that did not belong to her wife claiming purchase on her stomach.

“Who-“

“Natty, ba-“

“Wanda?! You’re alive?!”

“Yes, yes of-“

“What are you wearing?” She questioned, taking note of the dark red outfit and crown atop her forehead.

“Well, I would’ve changed but this is the only opportunity I had and for some reason there’s no ‘me’ here to look like your Wanda so.”

“Wh- My- Our Wanda?”

“Well, surely you’ve met a Wanda if you know me.”

“Well, sure but…she…you…died four years ago.”

“Ah,” Wanda chuckled to herself. “So that would explain it.” “Explain what? Wanda, where did you come from? I have so many questions.”

“And they will all be answered, detka.” Not another word before Wanda surged forward, placing a surging, longing kiss on her false lovers lips. Natasha shoved her off roughly and reached for the gun in her pocket. Her shaky hand hovered it, a warning.

“Oh, Natty…” She wasn’t threatened, maybe even amused. “There’s no need for that, baby. I will tell you all you need to know.”

“Back up,” she warned, holding her hand up to Wanda’s chest in a ‘stop’ motion when she judged ever closer. “Even if you are somehow alive, why would you kiss me?”

With all the answers she could have lined up, this she didn’t expect. She asked, “Whatever do you mean, darling?”

“Don’t call me that please, Wanda.” She continued to look puzzled. “Assuming you are a real Wanda from another dimension or whatever Vision proposed,” Wanda’s face shifted at the mention of the robot. “We broke up after he preposed to you.”

“Why would he-“

“Don’t be stupid, Wanda, please.”

“I’m sure it was nothing, baby.” She attempted to digress and grab the other redheads hand but was swatted away. “Please don’t touch me, Wanda. I’m so fucking confused.”

“Its’s okay, we will figure things out at home.”

“This is my home. How am I even supposed to believe you’re real?”

“You can touch me, and feel me, detka, see?” Yet again, swatted away. “Why are you being so difficult?”

“Because you insisted on keeping things under wraps and then saw him behind my back, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

“No, I-“

“And for some fucking reason you said yes to his damn proposal and we never got the chance to end it. You just went off with him.” Her earbuds were long disregarded to the floor and her eyes had almost more tears than that day. “I mean, damn it Wanda. You didn’t have to. It was like…” she choked and stopped to take a breath. “Fuck, it was like you didn’t even want us to happen. You so easily moved on from little old me.”

Wanda didn’t know what to feel. Not guilt, no. It wasn’t her fault. Natasha had no right to be yelling at her. “I’m so sorry she did that to you baby, but now-“

“Hey, Nat!” A voice from downstairs. Wanda knew that voice. “I completely forgot my phone.” And it was coming up the stairs. No, no, no. “Is it in there with you?”

Natasha made a break for the door but she was slammed to the dresser by a force, the open drawer hitting her spine and making her wince.

“No.” The witch growled. “We’re going home.”

“I don’t…” Natasha sobbed, watching the woman in front of her create a portal to a domestic looking house.

“Don’t cry, we’ll be home soon. Then we’ll find our boys.”

“I don’t want to go home with you.”

“Nat? Baby?” The door began to open but was covered in red slammed shut. “Are you okay?”

“I’m the only who can call you that.” Another dark whisper to Natasha’s ear caused her to shriek.

“Maria! Please!” Wanda gave a slap that make her ears ring but it did nothing to quiet her. “I don’t want to go with you, please.”

“I don’t care what you want, detka, it’s better with me.”

Through all her begging, all Wanda heard was, “You fucking monster…”

The witch released her magic, caught off guard by her words. “No, no.” She leaned down to the whimpering Natasha on the floor. “I’m not a monster…I would never hurt anyone.”

Her stained fingers inched to cup the now bloodshot cheek when the door was flung open. Maria had no time to process the mysterious being hovering over her wife, nor to listen to Natasha’s “wait!”, before raising her gun, and shooting the figure right below the spiked crown on her head. 

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

WIP game: going for the food. Pina colada, lunchbox, and barbecue.

I already did Pina Colada for @chaotic-hypnotic-erotic!

Lunchbox is set in the X-Treme X-Men Era-ish that ran during 2013 when current world Scott Summers wound up dimension traveling with James Howlett, who was married to Hercules. Kurt Waggoner, age 13 (I believe, maybe 14) wound up traveling with them. Scott also met a few alternate versions of himself, one a Wild West sheriff and another a black Union soldier.

This fic, however, is about Howlett and Hercules as co-dads of Kurt Waggoner after 616 Scott returns to his own reality. Scott Summers, Union soldier, lives with them as Uncle Scott while Howlett and Herc are dads. The idea of this fic came from Prompt: @crow821 130 prompt challenge, February’s 10 (bully), and the title came from Marilyn Manson's song Lunchbox to refer to Kurt's Spider-Man lunchbox that he guards with his life (that in the comics seems to have blood on it for some reason). I provide that reason.

Snippet:

On we plow

Kurt Waggoner’s feet barely touches the pavement as he races for his life away from the middle school.  The pounding of shoes behind him match his heartbeat, the latter thundering harder as the sound gets louder and closer.  This is just his third week in this new school because he and his dads and uncle have to keep relocating for a variety of other reasons. 

A voice inside his head tells him to teleport home, but the teenager’s panicked, and sometimes if he ports when he’s panicked, he winds up in the wrong places like the walk in freezer at his pops’ favorite Chinese restaurant up the street.  Or the church in the middle of a baptism. 

Or the dressing room at Justice where one of his cute-girl classmates is changing clothes. 

Kurt rounds a corner and slams into a wall that knocks him backward.  He lands on his back and lets out a cry when the sidewalk jams the base of his tail against his spine. 

That’ll be bruised for days, he thinks as he tries to get to his feet. 

That’s when the ‘wall’ steps closer to him.  Looms over him.  Then reaches down and hauls Kurt up with fistfuls of his shirt, dangling him over the cracks in the pavement. 

Kurt wishes those cracks would open up and swallow him whole. 

“Yer a freak,” Bully #1 spits.  “Don’t care what the rules say.”  He shakes Kurt hard. “Ain’t gotta be nice...”  Shake.  “...to no demon...”  Shake.  “...freak...”  Shake.  “...like you.”

Kurt can’t take another shake, especially not when he hears the sound of a switchblade being unleashed behind him. 

“Fuck you,” he snarks then clutches his backpack strap tighter as well as the lunchbox they’d already dented two days before. 

In a puff of purple smoke that stings the nostrils of everyone close enough to get caught in it, Kurt’s gone, teleported right out of that grip.  He doesn’t even hear the swears or threats of worse violence from his tormentors. 

*

I want to grow up

Every day it’s a new assault, a new bruise under his fur; he’s grateful for the fur so that his dads and uncle won’t see, a new cut that’s harder to hide from adult eyes. 

They aren’t really his fathers or uncle, but they’re all the family he has left, and he doesn’t want them to be disappointed in his inability to shake these assholes at school.  All three are great warriors, and while Kurt’s no slouch, they never let him do as much of the fighting while they were dimension traveling to kill off the evil Xaviers.  Kurt always had to stay back just out of the way of the rough stuff.  They respect him and his abilities, but first and foremost, they want him to be a kid and not a soldier.  Not a warrior. 

Not yet. 

All American Barbecue

Back in 2012, Brian Michael Bendis wrote the atrocious AvX (Avengers vs. X-Men) series that pitted the X-Men against the Avengers, specifically Steve Rogers, who behaved like a jackbooted thug on the urging of a Logan-scorned, when the Phoenix was intending to come for the mutant named Hope. Scott believed that with the right training, Hope could handle the Phoenix better than Jean ever did and could rekindle the mutant population that Wanda Maximoff had decimated during her "no more mutants" storyline (also written by Bendis, who stated several times that if he's given the mutants to write, he'll destroy them). To say that I was pissed about this comic series is an understatement, and I generally like to pretend that it didn't exist now.

Here are my summary and my notes from the WIP that maybe one day I'll finish writing.

Summary: Captain Steve Rogers investigates the report of a missing girl, Hope Summers, on the mutant island of Utopia, only he doesn’t quite find what he thinks he’ll find.

Notes:

This is an odd crossover idea that came about because of a page out of Marvel 1602 where Scott introduces himself as “Scotius Summerisle.” I had read it once before and it hadn’t even registered with me then – Summerisle – not until recently when I saw the panel again and the connection between this Summerisle and Lord Summerisle from the 1973 Wicker Man hit me. And I laughed. I laughed really hard, which I needed after all of the Schism and AvX fuckery that Marvel has been putting us through over the last year. And then Bendis decided to break up Scott and Emma, which has pissed off a lot of us fans. So in essence, what I’m doing with this fic is much like what I did with “Never Piss Off a Telepath” – I’m taking out a lot of my anger over this whole situation on the character I blame the most, and I’m going to have wicked fun doing it so that if nothing else, while it won’t have removed AvX from existence nor will it keep Bendis from doing what he’s doing, it will at least have put a smile on my face.

Keep in mind that because of AvX, I really did NOT like Steve Rogers at the time, and it was through the sheer perfect acting of Chris Evans that I ever did start liking him.

Snippet:

Tony reached over into the stack of mail that Clint had brought in about an hour earlier and rummaged around until he found one in particular. “Speaking of the X-Men, this came addressed to you. Don’t know who sent it…just that it’s from Utopia.” He shook it as if he could hear something rattling, which he couldn’t, then he handed it up into Steve’s waiting hand.

“Doesn’t look official,” Steve commented, glad that he could focus on something other than his goofy singing that was still playing on the laptop and the big screen. He tore open the envelope and tugged out a letter that had been typed, and inside it was a picture of a redhead in her mid-to-late teens.

“It’s not even in e-mail. Who the hell sends letters like that anymore?” Tony groused, his nose wrinkled over his goatee, which he scratched three fingers through before flopping back against the couch. “Even Erik’s gotten with the technological age…and he’s in your geriatric group.”

Steve arched a perfect blond eyebrow at his teammate and responded to the jab with only a sneer. Then he dropped his eyes to the letter.

Captain Rogers,

Things are so different here on Utopia than they were in Westchester, and I’m not entirely sure where to begin in telling you about my concerns. The worst of which involves the young woman in the photo I’ve sent with this letter. You see, this girl, Hope, has gone missing. No one has seen her in weeks, and she’s not quite old enough to leave the island by herself, even though everyone knows she’s been receiving piloting lessons since she became of age. None of the island’s jets have left, however. All are accounted for. Everything is accounted for, actually, except the girl herself.

This is most distressing, Captain Rogers. Hope is a sweet girl and very responsible. She wouldn’t have just up and disappeared on her own, so I suspect that something has gone terribly wrong. I hope you can and are willing to come here to get to the bottom of this yourself. I hesitate to say that this is so extreme that it requires the whole of the Avengers, but you are a respected figure here, and at the very least, if you were to show up yourself, I have no doubt that this matter would be straightened out right away.

Sincerely,

A Concerned Citizen of Utopia

“So what do the good citizens of mutant-world want, Steve? Don’t tell me. Logan’s hosting a bake-sale and wants you to put in an appearance so he can jack up the prices of his beer-cakes,” Tony quipped. Already, he’d moved on from watching Steve humiliate himself in the elevator to searching the internet for a donut shop that would deliver.

Steve snorted. “No. Nothing so amusing this time. It seems as if the mutants are having trouble policing their…well, trouble. I didn’t think they could make things work on that island without problems. Then again, look at them. They’re hedonistic…so many of them always were, but since they’ve stopped pretending to live in normal society, they’ve just gotten worse.”

Tony looked up at Steve with a ‘what the fuck’ look stamped on his features. He squirmed on the couch until his ass was firmly in a ‘ready to listen to Steve go on a tirade’ position. He typed something on his laptop and just waited. And waited. And when he glanced up at Steve again, he could see the Boy Scout’s nostrils flaring as if he already pictured some grave injustice being done on that island across country. Other than the mutants who still made their home in the city or wherever they did, most of them were well-out of the way and not worth worrying about. Even Erik wasn’t causing problems anymore. Why was Steve so bothered?

Because he was Steve.

WIP Game

[familyvideostevie]

on the ground

vecna tries to get steve and you try to save him | 4.3k, fem!reader, thank you to my dear @mrsrobinbuckley for this request and help with making it happen. this is the angstiest thing i've ever written, and it's a lot of steve and the love of his friends, but it's got steve x reader too! cw for mentions of neglect, a small mention of abuse, and plenty of negative thoughts from vecna. but steve gets saved by the power of love (and the eagles bc i love them), don't worry!

Steve has thought about what he'd see if Vecna wormed into his brain. It's been hard not to -- in the moments he's not worrying about Max or Eddie or you or the rest of his friends he's wondered.

Wondered if he's fucked up enough to be on the hit list. Maybe he'd be back at the party with Nancy and it would be a worse version of his already miserable memories. Or maybe it would be his parents coming home and wishing he wasn't there at all. His dad telling him he's a disappointment, finally caving and slapping him like Steve's always thought he wanted to.

It's stupid then, in hindsight, that he didn't even consider that Vecna would use you. You, his best friend, his heart, you who loves him so much and so well that Steve doesn't figure it out right away when it finally happens. Nancy, Robin, Eddie, and Dustin have gone through the portal and Steve kneels to boost you up to the rope. He takes his eyes off you for a second as you look up at the rope and back at him before stepping on this thigh.

But then something shifts and the trailer smells like someone spilled gasoline, the sharp, acrid scent making Steve wrinkle his nose and blink a few times. The lights flicker and he shakes it off because of course weird shit is happening. He's about to go into an evil hell dimension to destroy a zombified telekinetic serial killer.

"C'mon," he says, patting his thigh. "Up you go." But instead of putting your boot on his leg you plant it to his chest and shove him to the ground. He sprawls on his back, the breath knocked out of him.

"Hey, what the hell--" he sputters, but you interrupt.

"Stevie," you croon, but it's a sickly sweet tone he's never heard from you before. He tries to blink away the shock as his skin starts to crawl. "You can just stay here. We don't need you." His brain tries to catch up to what's happening because he knows this isn't right but the words cut all the same.

"I don't need you. I've never needed you," you continue. He tries to scoot back down the hallway of Eddie's trailer as you step over him, a cruel smile on your face. "None of us have ever needed you, Steve. Why don't you just go home?"

He knows something is wrong. He's trying to remember what's wrong, he knows what it is, but he feels so small on the ground and you're saying these awful things he's only ever thought to himself before.

"Go home to your empty house. Go home and rot, Steve Harrington."

__

You're trying really hard not to scream into Steve's slack face as you fist your hands in his jacket and shake him.

"Steve, Steve, please hear me," you gasp. "Steve, please." Panic claws at your throat and tears are hot at the corners of your eyes. His own are milky white and his whole body is still in front of you. It was one thing to see it on Max and Nancy, but another entirely for it to be Steve. Steve, who you never thought Venca would go after. Steve, who is the center, the protector, the heart.

You'd only looked away for a second before turning back to crack a joke about getting him on his knees and he was just frozen. Your blood ran cold and you yelled up through the gate that Vecna was here and he had Steve. Eddie dove through the portal with Nancy, Robin, and Dustin on his heels.

The metalhead looks like he's going to tear his own hair out. "There weren't fucking symptoms! You didn't have any symptoms, Harrington!"

"What do we do?" Dustin yells, voice cracking. "What do we do? Do we keep with the plan? How can we when he's---" Robin pulls him to her and they cling to each other. You know you're crying now, the tears hot on your face.

"No," Nancy says. "We need to save him first. We will save him first." Her voice wobbles but she sounds determined, the same tone she used before diving into the lake, the same way you've always known her to sound. Nancy Wheeler will not lose.

"Tapes!" Robin cries, reaching for your shoulder. "Tapes. Just like with Max." You look away from Steve for just a second, barely seeing your friend as you look at her. She's chewing on her lip but her hand is gentle, soothing. She believes you can save him, too.

"What's his favorite song?" Eddie asks. He isn't running, he isn't panicking anymore, though he's pale and frantic. Somehow, Nancy's conviction has spread through the room and all of them are ready to save Steve. "Do you know it?"

"Yeah." You look back at Steve's unmoving face and frame it with your hands. "Eagles. 'Peaceful Easy Feeling.'"

"Fuck, that's sure as shit not in my collection." But then Eddie snaps his fingers as the solution comes to him. "Wayne."

"What?" Dustin asks. He moves to Eddie's side and looks up at his friend with desperate eyes, a hand clutching at Eddie's jacket.

"My uncle has that one, I'm sure of it. Henderson --" he looks down at Dustin and claps him on the head -- "go with Wheeler into my room and find my walkman, okay? It'll be on my desk...somewhere."

"Where are Wayne's tapes?" Robin asks. "I'll help you find it." She and Eddie start to tear open covers and empty drawers around you but you barely notice them. Steve's face is dirty in your hands, small cuts dotting his mole-marked skin. The gash around his neck is crusty and weeping a little and you know his entire torso is a mess. You start to cry in earnest, unable to muster the bravery that your friends are showing.

"C'mon baby," you say. "Come back to us. My sweet boy, Steve, come back to me."

__

Steve is really fucking fed up with all this Upside Down shit happening to him. You go to apologize to the school loner once and all of a sudden an entire hell dimension is ruining your life. What a fucking world.

But right now Steve is more scared than he's ever been, the ugly words from not-you echoing in his mind as he finds himself in his own living room. It's dark in a way that warps real life and it's too quiet. Where are you? Where is everyone? He makes his way to the front door only to find a blank wall. Something about the entryway bugs him, and he realizes that the walls are covered with pictures of his parents. Family photos he's seen before in the boxes in the basement, but in these he's nowhere to be found. And they look happy.

"See how little you matter?" The voice echoes throughout the house, so loud Steve feels like it's going to burst his skull open. "They're not even here. No one is here for you."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Steve mutters. His hands are shaking but he knows there is a way out of this. He just has to hold on. Near-blind panic sends him running for the patio door which mercifully opens. But it opens into his backyard covered with vines and black dust, the pool pulsing a dull red. He creeps towards it despite himself, peering over the edge only to see the decaying remains of Barb at the bottom, something he's only ever seen in his nightmares.

Steve screams and backs up, tripping on a root and landing on his back on the stone. The breath rushes out of him and he can't seem to get it back as he gasps.

"You did that," Vecna says. "And for what? A girl who never loved you?" Steve knows it to be true but it shouldn't matter. He carries that around every day and he's learned to live with it. Because now he has you --

"No matter how hard you try, Steve Harrington, no one will love you."

"Not true," Steve pants. "Not fucking true!" He's crying now because he's just so fucking scared and he doesn't want to die, he really doesn't, he wants to get out of here and back to you, back to his friends, he has to so you can finish the plan and save everyone if only he could breathe.

"Why don't you just give up?" Vecna says. His voice is so loud in Steve's head that he thinks his ears are bleeding. "Do you know why there's no one to torment you but me, boy? No warped versions of your parents, your friends, that girl who you left behind? Because no one cares enough. You are alone."

"I get it, I get it!" Steve shouts, annoyance drowning out his fear for just a second. But a second is all it takes because then he sees it -- the mist. Max told him about the mist. He jumps to his feet and starts to run towards it faster than he's ever run in his life. He imagines that he's running home, running towards you, and even when his legs start to ache and his lungs are burning and he's still so damn scared he runs. He knows you're trying to save him. He just needs to keep running.

And then the grass of his yard turns to puddles of red and the sky changes from black to red and everything is red and Steve wants to throw up. It's just so much blood. And in the center of it all is Vecna.

"Holy shit, you're ugly," Steve pants. Fear and adrenaline pulse through his veins and he figures that if he's going to stall, he might as well lean in. "I didn't get any of the warm welcome gifts. Kind of rude, dude. Nosebleeds are cool." Maybe he can annoy Vecna enough that he'll give up.

"I'm in all of your heads, Steve Harrington." Vecna flexes a hand that ends in fingernails so long and sharp Steve swallows at the sight. "The games I play are useful sometimes, but other times it's best to get to the point, don't you think? I can snuff any of you out at any moment. And I will. But you've left your pound of flesh in my world already, so we'll start with you."

__

Your hands shake as you slide Eddie's headphones onto Steve and hit play on the cassette. If any song was going to work it was going to be this one. It's the song Steve puts on when you're driving together, the song you listen to after you have a nightmare and stay up talking until the morning about the future, the song that was playing when you told him you loved him for the first time. A part of you that is pure fear wonders if it'll be enough, if you're about to watch the world end here in Eddie's trailer, if you're about to watch Steve die.

Your heartbeat is loud in your ears but you can hear the tinny sound of the Eagles and Dustin's heaving breaths and the occasional sob coming from one of you, you don't know who. And then Steve starts to lift into the air ever-so slowly and a scream is ripped from you. You hurl out of Robin's embrace where you were clutching each other and wrap yourself around Steve's waist.

If he's going to go, he's going to do it in your arms. You won't let his last moments be anywhere else.

But Dustin is quick behind you, grabbing Steve's legs and then Robin and Nancy and Eddie follow, keeping him from crashing into the trailer ceiling. Everyone is crying, holding on with all of their strength, and you know that this might be it.

"I love you, Steve!" you shout. "I love you! Come back! Fight him!" Who knows if he can hear you, but you have to try. You have to try.

"I love you, man," Dustin sobs. "I love you!"

"You're my best friend, Steve!" Robin screams through her tears. "I love you. Get back here!"

"Come on Steve," Nancy cries. "Come back!"

"You gotta come back, Harrington," Eddie says. "Get the fuck back here! We love you!"

__

Steve is pretty sure this might be the end, actually. He sure as hell tried but damn, those vines are fast. He's pinned to a pole that is slimy and really irritating the shit out of his already fucked neck and he's trying not to look at the three other bodies around him. Max doesn't seem to be there, which is a small comfort. How did she get out of here? If he somehow manages to worm his way back to life he's going to tell her that she's the bravest person she knows.

"Let go, Steve Harrington. You're not needed there." Vecna takes his time as he stalks forward, long nails dragging through the red. "They're fine without you. They're better without you."

Steve blinks and suddenly the deconstructed house from hell is gone and he sees something else entirely. Something that punches the breath out of him and makes him sag into the vines. It's the kids messing around in a park. They're all there, even Eleven and Will, and they're happy. And, well shit, there's you and Robin. Everyone is safe. Everyone is laughing and he doesn't know how he knows but he knows that in this world where no one is harmed, where there aren't any monsters, where he doesn't exist. Because what purpose would he serve if there was nothing to protect you from?

"No purpose. You're finally getting it," Vecna hisses and the vision fades. The smell if iron and decay fills Steve's nostrils once more. "So why don't we make that a reality? Get some rest, Steve Harrington."

For a second, just one second, Steve considers it. He's so tired. Everything hurts and he wants to close his eyes for just a second. He tried to protect everyone, he tried to protect you, but he failed. So what's the point?

You. He lets himself imagine your face, your eyes and your cheekbones. Your smile when you see him, your laugh when he cracks a stupid joke. The warmth of your hands on his face. Come on, Steve, he can almost hear you say. Come back. He wiggles his fingers. It feels like the vine is a little looser than he thought. He repaints the scene Vecna showed him, placing himself next to you. He thinks about Robin, her hand on his back when she hugs him and how she calls him when she can't sleep. He thinks about Dustin and their handshake and the polaroid you took of them that he keeps on his dresser. He thinks about Lucas and Erica and how they both like the exact same kind of pizza but Lucas gives her the last piece every time. He thinks about Mike and Nancy and how they forgave him, how they keep forgiving him. He thinks about Max. About the letter in his glove compartment. How he never, ever intends to have to read it, but how he needs to be the one to tell her so. And Steve thinks about you.

I love you, Steve, you say. I love you so much.

Wait a second. He actually hears you. You're screaming his name and is that...the Eagles?

"Steve!" Your voice thunders through the Upside Down and it's that more than the music that shocks Vecna. The vines slack just enough for Steve to drop to the ground, his knees smacking painfully into the stone and coating him in red. He scrambles to his feet and doesn't think twice before he starts running. He doesn't know where he's going, but your voice is loud in his ears, the music alongside it.

And I want to sleep with you in the desert night

With a billion stars all around

"And she dumped the entire drink on his head!" Steve chuckles from his spot in your lap and you yawn. It's almost morning and the radio is soft in the background. Sleep eluded him tonight, and you stayed up and talked until his mind was no longer darkness and death.

"You must be exhausted, I'm sorry," he starts but you press your fingers over his lips.

"Nope," you say. "Can't hear you. No apology zone. Plus, they always play the best stuff at night for the truckers." Steve reaches over to turn the volume up and it's that Eagles song he's caught you humming a few times. You do the same now and run your fingers through his hair and his eyelids start to close. He's safe and you're here. He's okay.

Cause I get a peaceful easy feeling'

And I know you won't let me down

"Again?" you say as Steve turns the dial on the radio. "This song is always playing when I get in the car."

"Cause I call in and ask for it." He pulls out of your driveway and heads towards Dustin's house. "I know you like it."

"Really?" He knows you were just joking but he wasn't. Well, the first time was coincidence, but after he saw how you lit up he's called a few times to make it happen again.

"Maybe." He smirks. "You'll never know. Maybe my car is just magic." You reach over and pull his hand from the steering wheel to smack a kiss on his palm. He feels his cheeks heat and the way you're looking at him might just make him crash the car. "What?"

"You're magic, Steve Harrington."

'Cause I'm already standin'

On the ground

"Did you hear what I said?" The diner is nearly empty but you speak quietly anyway. Steve holds the fry he was about to eat a few inches from his face, his hand frozen in mid-air. It's just a regular Friday night and you look beautiful in this awful lighting, makeup a little smeared from the party you've left, eyes wide as you wait for him to answer.

"Shit. Yeah, I heard you." You've only just rocked his entire world and made his heart beat so fast he's a little concerned it might burst out of his chest . He drops the fry and grabs your hand from the sticky table. "Can you say it again, just to make sure?" He knows he's grinning like an idiot and it must spur you on.

"I love you, Steve." He promises himself that whatever happens in his life, he's going to remember this moment. Because it's a perfect one.

"Yeah, that's what I thought you said." He winks at you and then he realizes what's playing on the diner radio. "Do you hear what song is playing?" You frown at him and he laughs, bringing your hand to his lips so he can kiss it. "It's the Eagles, baby. Our song. I didn't even call it in this time!"

"Steve--"

"Oh, sorry," he says. "I love you, too." Your smile is like the sun.

The memories sweep over him unbidden but they keep him going until he sees the impossible right in front of him: himself in the air and you, Robin, Nancy, Eddie, and Dustin clinging to him and shouting how much you love him, how much you need him. His eyes leak hot tears because he wants this to be over so badly and it looks like he might make it. He's loved and he's needed and he's going to fucking make it.

"C'mon, Harrington," he begs himself, one foot in front of the other as he hurtles towards the vision and --

__

Steve crashes to the floor and takes you all with him in a pile of limbs and tears and gasping. He opens his eyes and sees you first, your nose inches from his own before you collapse into him. Warm hands press onto his arms, his chest, his legs, and everyone talks at once.

"Steve, thank Christ--"

"--God bless the Eagles, man --"

"--Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god--"

"--We love you so much, Steve, never do that again--"

"--I'm gonna murder Vecna so hard--"

And you, loudly sobbing into his chest, planting kisses on every part of him you can reach. "I love you," you whimper. "I love you so much."

"You guys," he croaks, and everyone falls silent apart from the sniffling. He looks around at your relieved faces and he can't believe Vecna made him think for even a second that he didn't belong here. "How did you--" He can't finish the thought. Robin clutches his hand like a lifeline and sags into Nancy's side. Dustin smiles so big Steve can see every one of his teeth.

Eddie's hand claps him on the shoulder. "The power of love, man. Well, and the Eagles."

Steve thuds his head on the ground, closing his eyes and breathing in deep, tasting the stale air of the trailer. "Fuck," he says. He feels for the most part like none of it happened -- his legs don't burn, his clothes are clean. A few tears escape but otherwise he'd have thought it was all a bad dream, but he's never been that lucky. Your weight on his chest is grounding, though it brings back the dull throbbing of his various wounds.

"Can we get off the floor?" he asks. Everyone scrambles off of him immediately and you and Robin haul him to his feet. She slides in to give him a embrace and kiss on the cheek, eyes watery as he smiles at her. He sways a bit as she jostles him but manages to stay upright, your hand tight around his wrist. No one says anything but he feels all of your eyes on him. "Christ, guys." He goes for a joke and misses by a mile. "Stop looking at me like I died."

"Too soon, man," Dustin mutters. "Shit." Steve shrugs and reaches out to pat the boy on the head.

"Sorry," he says, sheepish. He looks at you, your hand still attached to him like you're afraid he's going to float away. Which, well, he can't exactly blame you for. You keep yourself as close to him as you can, eyes red and wide as you search his face for something. You're desperate to ask him how he is but don't know if he even knows.

"Let's all take a breather, okay?" Nancy suggests, eyeing the two of you. "Steve, sit down or something. Dustin, let's radio everyone and tell them to standby. We need to regroup and fast." She pulls Dustin with her to Eddie's room with the radio, a hand on Steve's arm as she passes him. The look between them speaks volumes, conveys everything they can't articulate. It's a look you know and understand and it gives you confidence that things will be fine. And, fuck, Steve is glad she was here to help. She'll know what to do next.

"Let's get everyone some water," Eddie mutters and crowds Robin into the kitchenette to give you and Steve some semblance of privacy as you pull him to sit on the ground by the front door.

You realize you're gripping him so hard he's going to bruise and you loosen your hold, sliding down to weave your fingers together. Did all of that really just happen?

"Steve, I --" you start but he interrupts you.

"Are you okay?" he says softly. "Your hands are still shaking." Your lips part in disbelief.

"How the fuck are you asking me that?" You reach out with your free hand and gently wipe away the tear tracks from his face. "I'm not the one who was just cursed!"

"Yeah, well," he croaks. "It didn't take. I've got nine lives or something." Your hand on his face seems to crack through the numbness, the shock, and he starts to shake. "We have to keep going. He can get to any of us, he said, at any time, what if he comes back for someone else--"

He reaches for you and you go willingly, climbing into his lap right there in the trailer, Eddie and Robin muttering feet away. You don't care. You have to touch him, to hold him. "Steve. Hey, we're gonna get him. We're going to figure it out." He buries his face in your neck, hands coming around you a little too tight but you don't care. You almost lost him, he almost died.

"I can't believe I got out," he whispers. "It was so...it was the freakiest shit I've ever seen. Thank you for--"

"Don't thank me for saving your life Steve," you say as you press kisses to his temple. "You got yourself out and we helped. You're Steve Harrington. You're brave and you're good and you made it. And I love you." There will be time later to talk about what he saw, to work on healing the old wounds Vecna opened. But first you're going to rip him limb from limb.

"Yeah," he says. "I know." And he does know. Your voice is stronger than the lingering echoes of Vecna in his mind. God, he loves you.

He loosens his hold on you and takes a deep breath before pushing it all down for later. "Okay, we have to figure out what's next." The crackle of the radio is loud enough that you can all hear it, hear Dustin furiously telling the Creel unit to regroup as you figure out your next steps. You move out of his lap but not far from him, hands still intertwined as everyone returns to the main room.

"Hey Nance," Steve says, a small smirk on this face, eyes hard as steel. "Think I can get a turn with the shotgun when we find this fucker?" Without warning Eddie bursts into laughter that spreads to the rest of you. It's a little unhinged, a little hysterical, but it fits.

"God damn, Harrington," he says. "Thank Christ we have you."

Tags: @cheerupbarry @srrybutno @97soroka @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee @sunshinehollandd @katsukis1wife @imherefortea @spideyboipete @lonelywidow @louderfortheback @actual-mom-steve-harrington @steveharringtonscarkeys @pennyllanne @ducky-is-dead-inside

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[sanzoumon]

70 RICKORTY PROMPTS pt 3!

Here we go again! Same things apply, warnings at the start of the prompts. Everything is bottom!Morty unless otherwise stated. Also some prompts are gen.

70, guys. 70! And here I thought I was out of ideas. Anyway you can tell the moments when I was super horny while coming up with ideas. Some of these prompts get detailed and long but as always feel free to play around with the ideas.

Also with some of these I had no idea where I was going with them so pfft.

MPreg. Post-Promortyus. Those parasites reflected their own feelings. Morty asks Rick about it, what they did and said. Long story short, after some pressing, Rick admits everything that parasite said was true, he loves Morty and wants to have a baby with him. Morty finds the idea appealing, to be honest. He thinks about being pregnant with Rick’s baby and loves it.

Angst. As they get older Rick starts becoming forgetful and develops dementia. Morty is with him through it all and Rick can feel his own brilliant mind fading away, it scares him. They still have sex but as time goes on Rick gets less and less lucid. Eventually Rick dies in his sleep one night.

Non-con. Thriller. On the Citadel. There’s a serial rapist and killer loose on the Citadel. He targets Morty’s. The Morty’s disappear for 3 days and turn up dead on the forth. The police know the culprit is a Rick, given the DNA left behind, but DNA doesn’t vary much between dimensions so it doesn’t help much. They call in a specialist, a Rick who understands people and specializes in Profiling. The culprit redressed the bodies, showing them reverence, he loves these Morty’s. Things become complicated when Profiler Rick’s Morty gets abducted. ((Criminal Minds inspired))

Hebephilia. This Rick is a straight up Hebephile and has tried to reject that part of him his whole life. Morty happens to be right in his strike zone. He even left his own Beth when she was 13, fearing he might go after her. He thought these urges would mellow out in his old age but being around Morty is a challenge. And now Morty is confessing he’s in love with Rick and that he’s attracted to older people. After resisting his whole life Rick finally gives in and feels like a piece of shit for it.

Prison. Dub-con. Rick and Morty get arrested and everyone wants Morty’s ass to make him his bitch. Rick isn’t about to let that happen, fighting off anyone who tries to lay a hand on Morty. But every time Rick leaves him alone someone tries something. So Rick does the only thing he can, after beating Morty’s assailant to a pulp, he takes Morty in front of other prisoners to show who he belongs to. Morty is freaked out but damn Rick is giving him pleasure he never knew existed. Everyone backs off Morty but he wants Rick to fuck him again and again.

Omegaverse. Everyone knew that Alpha’s were supposed to care for their Omega in exchange for the Omega’s submission. Rick doesn’t do the whole caring thing but due to the proximity they have Morty recognizes Rick as his Alpha and he wants to be cared for. Eventually Morty breaks down. This triggers Rick’s Alpha nature and he gives Morty all the affection he’s been craving. Rick fucks him slowly, gently, in a comforting way, to help calm him. Tells him how good he is, etc. Finally he knots Morty and Morty feels like he’s whole again.

Angst. Rick and Morty are goofing around, just having a good time. They end up with their faces close together and Rick kisses Morty. Morty doesn’t react well. Will he come around?

Morty is desperate to be with Rick. He just wants Rick to stay with him and he’ll let Rick do anything to him. Abuse him. Fuck him. Anything.

Anything based on the song “Pretty When You Cry” by VAST.

Morty has a kink for seeing Rick cry.

Morty likes the feel of Rick’s wrinkly and saggy skin. Sometimes he just messes with it because it feels nice.

Age Problems. For all his sexual prowess, Rick is still an old man and sometimes it’s hard for him to get it up. And it’s really humiliating and frustrating because he is horny and his dick just isn’t reacting. Morty doesn’t mind that much, it happens. Besides, Rick is still damn good with his hands.

Electro Play. Rick hooks up Morty to all sorts of sex toys. They all send electric shocks to his dick and asshole. Rick also uses a wand to shock Morty on his thighs. He also won’t let Morty cum. Eventually he fucks Morty while still shocking his dick.

Rick sends Morty to school with a vibrator in his ass. Throughout the day he turns the device on to make Morty squirm. By the time lunch period comes, Morty can’t stand it anymore. He finds Rick waiting in a bathroom stall, dick hard and waiting for Morty, looking smug. Morty practically jumps on Rick’s lap and Rick takes the vibrator out. Morty rides him and moans so loud it’s a wonder the whole school doesn’t hear.

Public Sex. They have a very specific kink for fucking in portable toilets, like you see in construction sites or during fairs. It’s so unsanitary and smells disgusting and anyone could hear them but that’s what makes it hot.

Feminization Kink. Morty has a kink for beating treated like a woman. Not crossdressing tho. He likes it when Rick calls him a bitch, his wife, princess, his ‘pretty little girl’, calling his asshole a pussy or other such things, calling his dick a clit, talking about knocking him up. Things like that. Morty likes holding his legs open, begging Rick to fuck his pussy.

Morty is a straight up slutty little cock whore for Rick’s cock. Loves riding it. Loves being plowed by it. If Morty has it his way he’d just live life with Rick’s cock in his ass.

Exhibitionism. Degradation. Rick takes Morty to a special club where public sex happens on a stage. Surrounded by a bunch of Rick’s they all hoot and holler, calling him a slut, a whore, offering his Rick money so they can fuck him, etc. Morty never cums so hard in his life.

On the Citadel. A Rick books a private lapdance with a Morty at the Creepy Morty. Like most strip clubs there’s a “look, don’t touch” rule. But for a bit of extra cash many of them will let you do more than just look. And Rick is so desperate for the sexy little Morty gyrating on his lap.

Mind Break. Rick fucks Morty hard and rough for so long that Morty can’t live without being fucked by Rick anymore. He just wants Rick to take care of him, feed him, bathe him, then fuck him like a cheap whore. Being a living sex doll for Rick is the best thing that ever happened to him.

Miami Rick x Miami Morty. Sometimes Rick’s enemies put their hands on Morty. Morty almost pities them. Almost. Rick practically runs the underworld in Miami and everyone knows Morty belongs to him. Sometimes Rick needs to remind everyone that he’s an amoral old bastard who fucks his grandson so good that the kid begs for it.

Miami Rick x Miami Morty. Branding. Morty isn’t blind, he knows his grandfather is a criminal and knows people will target him to get to Rick. Morty also notices that Rick brands the shit that belongs to him and that no one touches it. Morty asks Rick to brand him so he’ll be safe, that people will know they’ll have to cross Rick Sanchez if they touch him. After getting the brand his ass hurts so much but he’s so turned on by the knowledge that Rick owns him now. He begs Rick to fuck him. And who is Rick to deny his cute grandson?

Set during Close Rickounters. They’re filthy, tired, and stranded. Rick is aggravated with Zeep, who keeps riling Rick up. Being in close proximity to each other for months makes it awkward sometimes. Like when Morty gets turned on seeing Rick in just his tank top, violently attempting to craft something like a mad man. He looks absolutely feral and Morty can’t help but moan at the thought of Rick fucking him like that. Rick notices, of course, and he’s in such a frenzied state that he doesn’t think twice about using Morty as an outlet for his frustration. He fucks him raw, with little prep, scratches, bites, pulls his hair, spanks him, slaps his face, taunts him, even spits on him, utterly degrading Morty and treating him like a sex toy. And Rick looks, smells, and feels so gross and dirty that it drives Morty insane. He can’t believe it’s happening, that Rick didn’t even care to ask Morty if he wanted this or not (Morty does want it tho). To just be taken and used as a stress outlet? It’s the best.

ABO Kink. They’re not from an ABO dimension but they both sure as hell find it hot. Basically they’re normal but know of ABO dimensions so Rick roleplays as an Alpha and Morty an Omega.

Rick x Morticia. Breast Play. Morti has surprisingly large breasts under her baggy t-shirt. Something happens to their clothes on an adventure and Rick gets an eye full of what Morti’s been hiding. She’s ashamed and embarrassed by them. Rick doesn’t see why, she’s beautiful. Morti stares at him and he realizes he said that out loud. Morti moves her arms from her chest and, very shyly, shows Rick everything. Rick realizes this is an invitation to touch and he takes it. He has her moaning like a whore in seconds. The next morning Morti comes down stairs wearing a v-neck top, showing off a little cleavage. The family is surprised because Morti was always so ashamed before. Morti just says she got a little confidence recently and gives Rick a knowing look. Rick decides he’s definitely going to fuck her boobs later today.

Rick x Morticia. Pregnancy Kink. Rick wants to get his 14 year old granddaughter pregnant. Wants to see her waddle around, have her breasts swell up, and wants to see her walk around knowing that’s his child in her belly. He wants to keep her knocked up all the time, keep her locked up at home, barefoot and pregnant, taking care of all their kids. Putting in another baby as soon as the current one pops out. He wants to make her his little breeding slave. He wouldn’t, of course, one kid is already too much for them but it’s still hot to think about.

Cheating. Cuckolding. Morty goes out of his way to fuck other guys just to make Rick jealous. Rick comes home to find some guy plowing him and Rick goes ballistic. He never hurts the other guys, just violently tosses them out. Then he holds Morty down and fucks him to remind him that he belongs to Rick. And that’s what Morty is really after. He wants Rick to be possessive, to fear losing him. NOTE: This isn’t a cuckolding kink, Rick isn’t into being cucked.

Rick x Morty + Summer. Morty wants Summer to watch Rick fuck him and to make humiliating / degrading comments about him during it. She’s getting paid for it but she’d be lying if she said her panties didn’t get soaked during it. Seeing her baby brother get plowed by a huge cock belonging to their grandfather was pretty hot, especially when Morty started moaning like a slut. She starts grinding into the chair she’s sitting on and cums from it. Morty doesn’t notice but Rick does, even tho he didn’t say anything.

Gun Play. It’s an Earth gun, pretty archaic by Rick’s standards. But Morty wants him to fuck him at gun point with a loaded standard 9mm. Even gives the gun a blowjob. Morty’s such a little freak.

Casual Possessiveness. When they go out, adventure or not, Rick puts his hand on the back of Morty’s neck. A hand on his waist. Hand on his shoulder, pressed against Rick’s side. Morty loves the feeling of protection and Rick loves protecting his little Morty.

Slow dancing. Rick and Morty are at a party, dancing and having a good time, then the music slows down and people couple up. Morty laughs it off and turns to leave, but Rick offers his hand to him instead - an offer to keep dancing. Rick ends up being a pretty good dancer and Morty finds himself mesmerized by Rick in this moment.

Hurt/Comfort. Spooning. Rick has a nightmare and wanders into Morty’s room. He lays down next to him, with his back facing Morty. Morty notices and hears faint crying coming from Rick. Morty pulls Rick into a hug, snuggling against his back. They stay like that for a little while until Rick calms down. Rick gets up to leave but Morty asks him to stay. This time Rick lays down facing Morty and they just sorta hold each other.

In Mortyberg. Most of the Morty’s there are Rickless but a few still have them. As C-137 Rick and Morty watch the few Rick’s left find their Morty’s, clinging desperatly to them, happy to be reunited - they see one pair kiss passionately. The couple gets odd stares. The Rick picks up his Morty and the kiss even deeper. C-137 Rick and Morty feel awkward about watching it and notice a few other Rick’s and Morty’s are giving them sneers. But Morty thinks they seem happy together, he’s a little jealous. He grabs Rick’s hand and just holds it, smiling up at him.

In this dimension, Rick has been around Morty’s whole life. They’re very close to each other. As a small child Morty always wanted his grandpa to pick him up and hold him. Morty’s 14 now and that really hasn’t changed.

Rick goes full on Grandpapa Wolf when Morty is in danger. He cries out “NO! MY BABY!” when Morty gets hurt.

On the Citadel. A story about Citadel cops who respond to Domestic Violence calls. Most times it’s Rick’s abusing Morty’s, sometimes Rick’s abusing Rick’s, Morty’s abusing Morty’s, and on rare occasions it’s Morty’s abusing Rick’s.

Mental Age Regression. Past Child Abuse. Rick suffers a blow to the head and passes out. When he wakes up he doesn’t remember anything from after he was 10 years old. It’s weird for all of them and Morty falls into the roll of primary caretaker. Rick gets into a bit of trouble when he accidentally breaks something of Morty’s. Morty yells at him and only stops when Rick is cowering on the floor, begging Morty not to hit him, then Rick starts mumbling “I’m sorry daddy please don’t hit me I didn’t mean it”. Morty gets down next to him and holds him, apologizing.

Past Non-con. Past Child Abuse. Still having Rick’s memories on hand, Morty decides to watch more. He sees all the pain Rick has gone through, his father raping and abusing him, his mother knowing and ignoring it, bullying in school, countless instances of Rick being sexually assaulted throughout his whole life. Even some up until right before he came to live with the Smith family. He sees a memory he can’t recall where Rick took Morty’s place when some aliens intended to rape him (Rick must have erased it from Morty’s memories). Morty comes too and sees Rick ripped the device away. Morty was crying and the tears wouldn’t stop. It’s Rick who comforts him, holding him, telling him it was all in the past and that it’s okay now.

Non-Con. Time Travel. Morty travels back in time to when Rick was his age. They bond pretty quickly, spending all day together. At the end of the day Morty realizes he has nowhere to go so Rick invites him to stay the night. In middle of the night, Morty finds Rick isn’t in bed and goes looking for him. What he finds is noises coming from behind a cracked door. He peeks inside and sees Rick and Rick’s father, Rick is crying and his father is plowing into him. Morty makes a noise and next thing he knows he’s dragged into the room too. Rick begs his dad to leave Morty alone. Instead, Rick’s dad tells Morty to sit there and see what Rick is really like, then decide if he wants a friend like him afterward. He shoves Rick on top of Morty and starts fucking him again, Rick is crying, apologizing. Rick starts to unravel, begging for more. Rick’s father leaves the room once he’s done. Morty cleans Rick up and takes him back to bed. Rick begs Morty not to leave so Morty stays in bed with him, just holding him, and Rick kisses him on the mouth before going to sleep. In the morning he gets woken up by his Rick. Morty wants to wake up young Rick but Rick stops him, shaking his head ‘no’. So they leave. Before Morty can ask Rick tells him that when he woke up that morning he cried like a bitch when he saw Morty was gone. He tells Morty everything about his father, that it never stopped until his father died. That even today that man still haunts his nightmares. This time Morty kisses Rick, letting Rick hold onto him like a lifeline. Rick apologizes that Morty has to see all that but it was always going to happen.

Spanking. On the Citadel. It’s not uncommon to see Rick’s punishing their Morty’s by spanking them in public. Guard Rick’s punishing Guard Morty’s. Teacher Rick’s punishing Student Morty’s. Rick’s just going about the Citadel, their Morty’s being little brats, stopping to bend them over and whip their behinds. Some Rick’s pay good money to spank Morty’s. Some Morty’s pay good money to get spanked by Rick’s.

Rick falls in love with Morty the very first moment he sees him, when Morty was a newborn. Throughout the years and their adventures, those feelings changed into something more romantic and sexual. It makes Rick feel sick. He doesn’t want to hurt his precious grandson but he keeps pushing the envelope with the boy to get more of his love and affection. He even asked Morty to kiss him! On the lips! He hates himself more when Morty kisses him on the lips.

Pet Names. Getting Caught. Rick has a lot of pet names for Morty: babe, baby, honey, sweetie, sweetheart, affection insults (bitch, lil shit, etc.). But Morty’s favorite is when Rick calls him “my love”. It rarely happens because it’s not one of those pet names you could mistake for familial at all. Sadly Rick uses it during dinner with the family one night without thinking about it. Everyone did a double take and then the interrogations started.

In a dimension where Rick isn’t a scientist, he’s a criminal. Thief, murderer, arsonist, a lot of bad shit. 4 years ago kidnapping got added to his list of crimes. He tracked down only daughter and abducted his 10 year old grandson, Morty, wounding his pre-teen granddaughter (who was babysitting) at the time. They haven’t been seen or heard from since... until today. A high speed chase, a shootout, Rick being shot, bleeding out, Morty crying, rushing to him, holding him, trying to stop the bleeding, kissing Rick, telling him he’ll love him forever, Rick dying. It was all televised on the news. Beth gets her son back but does she really? Just what exactly did Rick do to the boy in 4 years?

Vore. Microphilia. Morty gets shrunk down, clothes not included. Rick messes with him by putting him in his mouth. Then he tastes something weird in there and feels something strange. Morty is grinding against Rick’s tongue and came from it. Rick’s into it.

Paternal Instincts. Caretaking. Morty wets himself during an adventure. Once they get safely home he collapses and starts bawling like a baby, his pants still wet. At first Rick tells him to stop being a pussy but that makes Morty cry harder. It triggers something in Rick and suddenly his long buried paternal instincts gutpunch him. He scoops Morty up, holds him against his chest and says “now, now, grandpa’s here, baby” and tells Morty he’ll take care of him. He takes Morty to the bathroom, undresses him, and wipes him down with a warm washcloth. He then helps Morty into his pajamas and picks him up again, asking if he felt any better and if he wants to take a nap with grandpa. Morty feels like he can’t speak so he just nods yes to both.

Taking it Slow. Making Love. Rick is really DTF-y (Down To Fuck) pretty much all the time. When he and Morty start their relationship tho, Rick tells him he’s not ready to have sex yet. Morty thinks it’s just Rick having hang ups over the whole grandson thing but no, Rick doesn’t care about that. His age then? Morty starts thinking Rick just isn’t attracted to him so Rick finally tells him he’s plenty attracted. He just wants to take it slow, not because of Morty but for himself. Morty finds out that Rick was the same with Diane, even when she was DTF. Morty thinks it’s kinda sweet so he stops pestering Rick. They date, cuddle, make out, sometimes do hand stuff. After about 6 months of dating, Rick takes him to a fancy dinner then a hotel, telling Morty he’s ready. Then he makes sweet tender love to Morty and Morty finally gets what people mean when they say “good things come to those who wait”.

Necrophilia. Character Death. Angst. Morty dies because of Rick. Rick doesn’t take it well at all. He digs up Morty’s body in the dead of night, tries to go full Viktor Frankenstein and bring him back. But nothing works. He knows it’s just an empty shell, but he can’t stop himself from caressing his body, kissing his lips, undressing him, and thrusting into him. It’s cold, there’s not an ounce of warmth left in Morty’s tiny little body. He keeps the body longer than he should after that. It’s not long before he’s found out.

Past Non-Con. Public Restroom Sex. Healing Sex. After the Mr Jellybean incident, Morty is terrified of public restrooms. Rick makes it better by giving Morty a good time in a restroom, reassuring Morty that he can put a stop to this any time. Not that Morty wants to stop. Rick comforts and praises him the whole time.

Guard Rick x Morty. The Morty of a Guard Rick loves the way Rick looks in his uniform.

Pony Rick x Pony Morty. The good thing about Equestria was that they didn’t think twice about PDA. A stallion nuzzling his grandcolt wasn’t that odd. Behind closed doors he was nailing his grandcolt’s plot pretty much every night. Rick thinks he should be careful, at this rate Morty’s cutie mark will end up being a picture of Rick’s cock.

Primitivism. In a dimension where modern tech doesn’t exist, there’s various tribes that exist. Morty’s mother Beth leads their tribe after her father stepped down. When Morty’s 14th birthday arrives, the battle for his hand in marriage begins. Being the second child (with Summer being Beth’s heir) that means Morty will leave and marry into the tribe of the victor. It’s an open contest, anyone can enter. No one ever expected Rick to enter and dominate the competition. Beth has no choice but to declare him the winner. As per tradition they must now consummate their union. Morty is afraid, but Rick makes it good for him. Afterward Morty asks why Rick did it. Rick tells him it’s because Morty always belong to him, he just made it official.

Non-con. On the Citadel. There’s a serial rapist going around targeting Rickless Morty’s. Detective Rick is determined to catch the Rick responsible, his Morty was a victim of the rapist and killed himself over it. Problem is the culprit looks like a plain normal Rick. One Morty was different from the rest, most skittered away to avoid Rick’s and the Cop Morty’s has to tend to them. This Morty however clung to Rick like a lifeline. Rick’s gut told him this Morty knew more than he was letting on.

After the events of S5, Rick decides it’s time to make a change. He’s tired, old, he wants to settle down. To do that he needs to sober up. No more alcohol, no more drugs. It isn’t easy going cold turkey, it’s painful, he’s going through all sorts of widthdrawl. But sweet little Morty is there to help him through all of it, cleaning up his vomit, keeping his temperature down, keeping Rick away from anything that would help him get any sort of fix, soothing him, even feeding Rick when he’s too exhausted to feed himself. It hurts, but Morty is worth it.

In this dimension Rick isn’t the smartest man alive. He’s just a loving father and grandfather who moved in with his daughter to be closer to his grandchildren. Morty loves his grandpa so much and they spend so much time together. Ever since Morty was a child he liked to sit on grandpas lap and cuddle up to him. This hasn’t changed now that he’s a teenager. Behind closed doors the two are much closer than anyone would ever suspect.

Set during that whole ride scene during The Vindicators. Rick’s drunken video confession ends up being a love confession and marriage proposal to Morty. Morty evaluates his feelings for Rick on the ride back. When Rick asks him what happened, Morty just smiles and says “yes”. He knows Rick doesn’t remember but he’s the smartest man in the universe, he’ll figure it out... eventually. BONUS: Million Ants comments that he senses a great deal of love and affection all of a sudden.

Summer POV. She sees the way they act, how they look at each other. How devoted they are to one another. They’re hopelessly in love and neither wants to admit it for the obvious reasons. In this infinitely cruel multiverse she doesn’t understand their hangups and why they’d deny themselves this shred of happiness. She wants them both to be happy, she really does. The day it finally happens she’s happy enough to cry.

Beth finds out about Rick and Morty. Instead of lashing out over the wrongness of it she turns on Morty, accusing him of stealing her dad away, calling him a slut, asking what was so special about him. Rick is stunned. Summer and Jerry run to them, Summer instantly getting between Morty and their mother, holding him close while he sobs into her chest. Jerry tried to pacify Beth, leading her away. Of all things Rick never expected Beth to accuse her own child of being to blame here. He was the adult, she should be angry with him. He leaves Morty with Summer, he needs to have a serious discussion with Beth about everything. NOTE: Beth is infatuated with Rick and is jealous of Morty. Rick has no such feelings for Beth and is in love with Morty.

In this dimension, Morty’s parents and sister died when he was six. Jerry’s parents had already passed so Morty has no one left to be his guardian except Rick. So Rick moves into the Smith household so he won’t have the uproot Morty’s life. Their relationship dynamic turns out quite different from other Rick’s and Morty’s because of it. For example, Rick is haggling over a deal in space, he’s being mean and aggressive about it. Then Morty wanders in just when Rick is about to get violent. Rick here’s Morty say “grandpa?” in a sweet little voice, not understanding what’s going on. Rick’s attitude does a 180, going into doting grandpa mode, saying “hi, sweetie, grandpa and his friend are almost done talking so go wait in the car, sweetheart”. As soon as Morty’s gone he reverts back to being violent. Basically, Rick only shows his doting grandpa side in front of Morty, he doesn’t want Morty to see his hyper aggressive side.

Evil Rick x Evil Morty. Possessive Protectivness. Morty hates Rick, but there was one good thing about him. Come hell or highwater, Rick wouldn’t let others hurt Morty. It becomes easy for Morty to manipulate Rick into getting rid of problems this way. All Morty has to do is tell him someone tried to hurt him and Rick will kill them no questions asked.

Past Non-Con & Child Abuse. During the S5 finale, Morty asks Evil Morty just what the hell his Rick did to him to make him hate Rick’s so much. Evil Morty lashes out, tells Morty he won’t just tell him - no, if he loves Rick so much then he needs to experience the pain himself. EM jabs Morty with another memory device and Morty doesn’t just see the memories, he experiences them, feels them. All the rape, abuse, death, torture, the fear. He vomits when he comes back to reality. His Rick looks concerned, but Morty is shaking like a leaf staring at him. Morty can’t see his Rick without seeing Evil Rick. Evil Morty asks him if he understands now why he hates all Rick’s. What happens next?

Big Bad Wolf Rick x Little Red Riding Hood Morty. Dub-con. Morty’s mother tells him to go deliver some food to his Grandpa Rick’s workshop, but not to stray from the path because ‘Wolves’ (which is code for ‘those creepy pedos who hang out in the woods and need to bang kids to return to human’) will get him. Along the way a Wolf tries to lure him off the trail. Morty doesn’t fall for it. Eventually he reaches his Grandpa’s workshop. Something is off about his Grandpa’s voice. And ears. And teeth. And eyes. Also all that body hair. Yeah, Morty can see where this is going. The Wolf reveals that he’s actually Morty’s Grandpa Rick, throws him on the bed, telling Morty he’s going to ‘eat’ him. Okay Morty didn’t expect him to actually be his Grandpa so he’s nervous now. But wait, if Rick fucks him then he’ll go back to normal, right? He can do that for his beloved Grandpa, he has to.

Pet Names. Morty calls Rick by pet names too. What really gets Rick going is when Morty calls him “stud”.

Bottom!Rick. When Rick gets really emotional while drunk, he wants to bottom. He wants to be loved, filled, comforted, praised. He cries throughout the whole thing, but Morty knows it’s just because he’s feeling vulnerable. Morty likes to take care of Rick when he’s like this.

Bottom!Rick. It’s their first time and Morty is a nervous wreck. Rick takes the lead in a different way, riding Morty cowgirl style. To be honest, Morty is pretty small and Rick is pretty loose down there so it’s physically not as great as Rick would like but it feels nice and Morty sure as hell enjoyed it. Didn’t exactly last very long.

Orgasm Control Training. Morty can’t control his damn dick so Rick decides to train him to hold back his orgasms. Cock cages, chastity belts, cock rings, nothing seems effective so he trains Morty’s body to need prostate orgasms instead. Which is to say now Morty can’t cum without having his prostate stimulated and he can’t do that without Rick’s fingers or his dick. He knows. He’s tried toys and they can’t get the job done.

Prostate Orgasm. Rick’s robot arm has a vibrate function. He loves unraveling Morty by hitting his prostate with his fingers and turning on the vibration. He can tease Morty for hours this way, denying him release when he’s so close. He never lets Morty touch his dick anymore. If Morty wants to get off he needs to beg Rick to abuse his prostate.

Size Difference Kink. Stomach Buldge. Rick is like 6’4-6” tall while Morty is only like 5’2”. Their dicks have the same proportionate size difference. Rick’s is huge while Morty’s is smaller than average. When Rick fucks him you can actually see the buldge of Rick’s cock in Morty’s guts. Rick loves how tiny and hot Morty is, loves his tiny little dick, his tight ass, his little mouth. He hopes Morty doesn’t grow much more because he doesn’t wanna lose his cute little Morty.

Hand Holding. Rick’s taken up the habit of holding Morty’s hand like he’s a child everywhere they go.

Rick contemplated moving into a younger body to spend more years with Morty. When he brings this up Morty isn’t keen on the idea. Turns out Morty isn’t really attracted to Rick’s younger selves, he fell in love with Rick as an old man and that’s just how he likes him. Sure if it’ll help Rick stick around longer he gets it but does he have to go too much younger? Like Morty could be okay with a 50 or 60 year old Rick. Rick decides to stick with his current body for a while longer.

Yandere Rick. Non-con. Captivity. Traditional Wife Kink. Rick won’t allow anyone to even lay eyes on his precious Morty. He takes him off world, on an isolated planet, keeps him locked up in a cozy little home just for the two of them. Rick gave up on most of his adventures, only leaving for short periods of time. Morty is expected to keep the house clean, make dinner, do all the chores, and most importantly take care of his husbands sexual needs. Morty is terrified but, so long as he doesn’t fuck up any of his wifely duties, Rick is gentle with him. If he burns dinner, forgets his chores, anything — Rick punishes him, he sees it as Morty not wanting to be with him. It doesn’t make any sense to Morty and he knows this is going to be his life until Rick dies. What Morty truly hates is that he looks forward to Rick fucking him each night. In those moments he’s able to lay back and let Rick do all the work, Rick wants him to feel good during it after all. It’s also the only time Morty gets leeway on his chores because Rick gets cuddly after sex. When Morty gets sick he tells him he won’t have to do any work today too. Morty doesn’t want this at all but he finds these peaceful moments.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

You're My Home Too | Loki Laufeyson

Hey lovelies happy Saturday! I hope you all have had a lovely day! Here is the first Loki "drabble" of the event, please do enjoy and make sure to take care of yourselves today!

Appetizers (Tags): Angst, Fluff

Entres (Pairing): Loki x F!Reader (third person)

Sides (Prompts): 6: “You’re all I have.” “You’re all I have too, you know?”

Notes: None, Requested by Anon

Word Count: 2.2k

Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List

She watches as the black haired god tilts his head, eyes locked on his brother. It looks like he’s nodding along, agreeing to something Thor has said, but she can see it— the way his pupils dart across the blonde’s face, flitting over his shoulder before returning, latching on a different spot. It’s unnerving to watch him be so docile. So passive— not at all like the usual, fiery tempered, grinning god of mischief. She’s never seen him look so blank. Something’s definitely wrong.

She has a feeling she knows what it is, too. If she’s right then it’s the same reason she laid awake all night, curled on her side of Loki’s bed, listening to the sound of his steady breathing until the sun came up. She can practically hear the conversation— Thor’s been itching to go home for weeks now. Somehow they’ve always managed to get held up each time— saving the world and what not. Now, though, there’s nothing keeping them. No androids or aliens or wizards. Just her— the best friend— and that’s not going to cut it.

Loki’s eyes flick to hers, blue irises somehow vibrant even from across the room, and she forces the corners of her lips to turn up, an attempt at flaking off the frown that she’s sure has been plastered on her face all morning. If his frown is anything to go by, however, then she would say that it doesn’t work out. Oh well— she didn’t really expect it would.

He can sense lies and even if he couldn’t he would still be able to read her like a book. Half the time it feels like he’s more in her head then she is, always figuring out what she wants before she can think it let alone say it aloud. Usually that’s followed by him dropping whatever he’s doing to get it for her. Unless, of course, it’s a hug— then he’s dropping whatever he’s doing and pulling her into his arms.

Who’s going to hug her if he’s a galaxy away?

Is it even a galaxy? Surely it’s more. A dimension away. Her stomach tosses, the sting in her chest mixing with a wave of the nausea she’s been fighting all morning. A combination of not eating— not being hungry enough to eat— and sadness. No not sadness— grief. Sadness feels easier. It’s waving your best friend off to college— not to another fucking world. This isn’t sadness— this is losing everything she has come to need for an entire year. Warmth and protection and his sea-salt skin and elegant voice. Who else is going to speak so gently to her when he’s gone?

“Dove—” she blinks and he’s suddenly there, kneeling on the floor in front of the couch where she's been sitting for the past hour, legs curled under her and all the way numb— “what’s wrong?”

His dark brows crease together, his hand snaking from his side and reaching for hers. She offers him another pathetic half-smile, tangling her fingers with his long ones and shaking her head slightly. “Nothing, Loki. How’d your talk go?”

She doesn’t miss the way he winces. He tries to hide it, replicating her tilted lips with his own, but, like her, his eyes don’t follow suit. Instead they flash with something that looks too much like dread for her to keep her act up. When her mouth creases into a frown, so does his. It’s all she needs to know— he really is leaving her.

“My brother misses home.” The god reaches out his other hand and— like everything they seem to do— she copies him, meeting him halfway and lacing those fingers together as well. He runs his thumb over hers, his blue eyes intense— worried. “There are a few things we have to sort out. They’re getting impatient.”

They’re. That could mean so many things. It could mean his people— the asgardians. It could mean his family— it definitely means Thor, the god who she can hear pacing from the kitchen. Her eyes pool over the features of the man in front of her, landing on the circles under his eyes. Does it mean him too? Has she been keeping him from going home? The thought makes her throat sting— of course she has. She’s been so stupid, clinging to a literal god. Of course he would have to go home at some point. She was only fooling herself thinking he would stay with her. What’s upstate New York when you have a celestial castle or whatever the hell it is he has?

“Dove?”

She blinks again, zoning back into his even more concerned stare— shit.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, squeezing his hands if only to ground herself against slipping away again. “That sounds important. Your, uh, your kingdom needs you.”

I need you too, though.

It feels like her heart is lodged in her throat and that she’s speaking around it. When she swallows it doesn’t go away— if anything it grows, tears stinging at her eyes, threatening to fall. She hates how selfish she feels. He doesn’t belong to her— he doesn’t belong with her— and she should feel lucky to have called him her friend for this long. Still she can’t help but wonder what her days will look like without him. Empty. Boring. Terrifying. She has friends here but it isn’t the same. The connection isn’t the same— the warmth and smiles and laughter aren’t the same.

She isn’t just losing her best friend, she’s losing her home.

And she breaks.

And he notices.

God, he always notices.

She supposes with the tears now streaming down her face, though, that she can’t exactly blame him for that one. It’s a little noticeable. What she will blame him for is how he releases her hands, instead rising to his full height and settling on the couch, angling his lithe body towards her and wrapping his arms around her stomach. He waits— one beat, two beats— for her to turn as well, pushing up on her knees and throwing her arms around his shoulders. She holds him tight— tighter than she can confidently say she has ever held him before. She has to— it’ll very likely be the last chance she gets. She has to memorize it— him.

“I’m sorry,” she laughs bitterly. It’s more of a sob— the kind that catches in her throat, getting stuck between silent and booming. “I’m being silly.”

Loki shakes his head— she can’t see it but she can feel his jaw brushing her hair, his hands pushing her closer to his chest. She digs her fingers into his jumper, scrunching the green wool like somehow it’ll make this all okay. His hand runs up her back, curling it around the nape of her neck, hand cool and soft.

“No you aren’t.” He murmurs, face still pressed against her hair, and she fights back more tears— he’s too gentle with her.

She doesn’t say anything right away, she just sinks against him, biting her lip and forcing herself to just be in the moment. He smells like rain today. It’s always different— always changing— but today he smells like the summer pavement before a three day thunderstorm hits and it feels fitting.

After a few moments she finally pulls away, tugging against his hold and running the heel of her hand under her eyes. He doesn’t give her much leave, only a few inches to be able to look up at him, blinking away the blurriness of her glassy eyes and sniffling. His lips are pressed together, his head tilted again. Unlike with his brother, though, his eyes never stray from hers. As always, it makes her breath catch in her throat, her heart racing in the way only he can seem to do.

She finally brings herself to ask the hard question— the one that’s been hanging around them for weeks. “When are you leaving?”

His fingers on her spine tense— that can’t mean anything good.

“Today, dove.”

“Oh.”

She doesn’t know what else to say— that and if she says anything more she’s afraid she might start sobbing again. Sobbing or just stop breathing altogether. Today? She couldn’t have had one more night with him? You’ve already had ‘one more night’ for four weeks, the little voice in her head reminds her. It’s time to let him go. She slips her hands around his arms— easier said than done. She knows that once he leaves her life will change— and it might never go back to normal.

Loki’s eyes flash, the blue darkening, a crease forming between his brows. He opens his mouth but no words come out and soon he’s pressing his lips together again, the dejection in his eyes and aura tangible. She has to say something— she can’t leave it on this note. She just has no idea what to say. No idea how to say goodbye.

So she doesn’t.

“You should probably start packing then, yeah?” She pushes her lips into the tortured smile again, muttering the words.

She’s sure he would have forced himself to laugh—

“I want you to come with me.”

— were it not for him speaking at the same time.

Her heart stops when his words flit past her eardrums. “What?”

She must be dreaming— there’s no way he just said what she thinks he said. It has to be her imagination playing a cruel trick on her. Trying to protect her from the pain until the last second. But no, that’s not right, now when his cool hands move from her back to her cheeks, his thumbs running over her cheekbones and drawing her back to him. He leans down, pressing his forehead against hers and she gasps— she can’t help it. His skin is so soft that her eyes flutter close.

“I said I want you to come home with me, dove.” His nose brushes against hers, his words entirely soft.

She’s speechless— completely and utterly floored. “To Asgard?”

He chuckles, minty breath fanning her lips. “Yes, to Asgard.”

She pulls back, head so fuzzy she almost topples over from the motion, hands curling tighter to keep from falling. He really wants her to go home with him? Just like that her heart starts beating again, kicking starting her pulse which begins hammering as the notion of staying with him starts to become clear. He’s not leaving?

“But—” she stammers, blinking rapidly as she tries to form a coherent thought— “why me?”

For a moment he just looks at her, his brows knitting together once more, his eyes filling with something she can’t decipher. He kind of looks confused. Only she could confuse a god. She almost slaps herself, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Why the heck would you ask him that you idiot? Now he’s not gonna’ want to take you with—

“Because you’re all I have.”

He says it so nonchalantly— like it’s a fact and not a confession that makes her very essence roar. She supposes that to him it is just a fact. That when you’re all powerful speaking your mind is normal. It is just a fact and she is just a girl and he is just a god. Fact, fact, facts. Her head spins. This— he— cannot be real.

“I—” That’s as far as she gets before her sentence drops, mouth gaping but empty.

Thankfully he picks it up, continuing his unconcerned profession.

“It’s not home if you’re not with me, my little midgardian. Not anymore.” He shrugs and she almost chokes— how is he saying this so calmly when she feels like she’s going to combust? “I really think you’d like it, actually. It’s very pretty— lots of gardens. Oh, and the library! You would enjoy the library.” He tilts his head, his eyes fading out slightly as he thinks about his home. “I’m sure there will be a ball of some sort when we arrive home. I know, I know— you don’t like big events but—”

This time she’s the one who places her hands on his cheeks, shaking her head, letting the first euphoric giggle out. “Of course I’ll go, Loki.”

A grin spreads across his lips, his eyes widening like he just won the lottery as he leans forward, connecting them once again. It makes her heart jump in her chest. What did he think she was going to say? No? She giggles when his lips press against her cheek, her nose scrunching. He must notice because his mouth curves even more against her skin. Soon his lips aren’t just on her cheek but on her forehead and chin and nose as well.

“Even if we have to go to a ball?” He teases, his voice lighter than she’s heard it in weeks.

“Even then.” She confirms, fingers gliding into his hair and tangling them in the silky strands. She takes a deep breath, nerves thrumming as she adds softly. “You’re all I have too, you know? You’re my home too.”

Loki hums happily against her skin, taking her own confession the same way he had made his own— easily. It’s the best outcome she could have hoped for. She can’t wipe the wide smile from her lips as he wraps his arms properly around her once more. It’s not long before his lips find her ear, soft words echoing against her skin.

“You should probably start packing then, yeah?”

[a-valorant-effort]

can u do enemies to lovers w yoru 🥺 like maybe their rlly good partners in valorant but their both too stubborn 2 admit they like eachother n all the other agents r like 😉😏😏 tysm!!!!!!

*sees enemies to lovers request*

Cass:

Keep it Together

Yoru x GN!Reader

I got carried away with this one oop-

“Would you get out of the way? I can’t even see through the scope.”

“I’m in the rift, Y/N.”

“Oh, my bad. You’re big blue ego must have leaked back into this dimension, you’ll be spotted quick.”

It’s like this. Everyday. Back and forth. Left and right. Yin and Yang. Y/N and Yoru haven’t gotten along since the day they showed up. Yoru, a flashy radiant with the power to travel through dimensions and become invisible to the enemy team, was a force to be reckoned with when it came to being a ground fighter. Y/N, was the opposite. Powerless, dull, armed with nothing but their quick wit and lethal aim. It was in this clause where they differed so heavily. No one really knows why they do it. Jealousy? Intimidation? Or simply pure hatred? One claiming to be better than the other, competing for kills on deadly missions and high stakes infiltrations. Y/N, the eyes in the sky, while Yoru lie low.

“Both of you, stop bickering. Your target is in there, kill him, then get out.” Brimstone sounded tired over the communicator, more so than usual.

Through a stroke of chance, Yoru was able to sneak past the guards and saw their target. Pulling out his knife, he slowly crept up to the man before his heart almost dropped at the sound of a bullet coming through the window. The target lie dead.

“Got em.” Y/N giggled through the com.

“Oh, fuck you.”

The bickering never stops, not even once their mission is over.

“I don’t need a flashy power to be better than you.” Y/N leaned over the couch, their arms swung over the cushions.

“Neither do I.”

Y/N scoffed. “You’re nothing without that radianite.”

“The same can be said about your weapon and you. You’re nothing without that either.” Yoru looked into their eyes, smirking.

“Y/N. A word.” Brimstone called from the hall.

“Daddy’s calling.” Yoru laughed.

“At least mine came back.” Y/N shoved a pillow in his face and walked off.

“Jesus christ. Do you two ever stop arguing?” Viper rubbed her temples.

Jett nonchalantly tuned in, her eyes still trained on a video game on the tv. “Yeah dude, you two need to fuck already.”

Yoru coughed. “What?!”

“Yeah bro, you two got something going on there.” Phoenix was beside her, focusing just as intently.

“You’re hysterical. I don’t like Y/N, I just want to put them in their place.”

“In your be-,”

“No.”

Phoenix and Jett laughed.

“I’m serious. I despise Y/N. I would rather listen to Killjoy talk about astrophysics all day.”

“Oh really? What do you hate about Y/N?”

“Oh wow, where do I start? They’re useless. They can’t do anything but aim really well from a distance. I have to save their ass everytime they get into a little bit of danger. I hate how they look when they get a good shot with the operator. I hate that stupid little giggle they have. I hate the way their uniform perfectly hugs their hips a certain way. I hate it when their pupils dilate slightly when the get excited, I hate it.” Yoru took a breath. Phoenix and Jett stared at him, their attention fully drawn to him.

“What?”

“Dude, you’ve got it so bad.” Jett laughed.

It struck him like a hammer to a nail. The more he thought about Y/N, the more endearing the thoughts became. Oh god, he liked them. He loved them.

“Well no point in standing here loverboy!” Yoru hadn’t realized he said it out loud, so Phoenix’s response caught him off guard. “You gotta tell them!”

“No chance, they hate me. No way they feel the same.”

~~~

“This fighting needs to stop.”

Brimstone had Y/N in the briefing room, sitting on opposite sides of the long ovular table.

“It’s not my fault he gets on my nerves at every turn.” Y/N kicked their feet up. “And if you hate us fighting so much, why don’t you just separate us? Seems to me anytime I need a partner you’re putting me with the rift-rat.”

Brimstone put his hand to his forehead. “Y/N, do you know why I pair you up with Yoru?”

“Clearly not.”

“Because mission success rates are the highest when you two are put back to back. Monte Carlo, Venice, New Zealand, all of your duo missions have come back successful, the only error is when you two decide to turn it into some sort of competition.” Brimstone laid out a file folder that was labeled “Rift-shot” Y/N opened it to find all of their and his statistics lying within it. “Think about what you two could do if you stopped trying to step on each other and instead tried to lift each other up. You’ve done it before.”

That last part was interesting to Y/N because, well... yeah, they have. They can remember all of the times Yoru has bandages them up in a clutch situation, or the times Yoru was about to get caught but a piercing bullet to the head deliver by them had saved him. Whether they liked it or not, Y/N and Yoru were perfect for each other. Back and forth. Left and right. Yin and Yang.

“We’ve got reports of a radianite shipment getting lost somewhere in Croatia, you think you’re up for the task?” Y/N lifted their head and looked Brimstone in the eye who gave them a knowing look.

“Fine. I can do it.”

“Not the answer I’m looking for.”

Y/N sighed. “We can do it.”

Brimstone smiled. “Dropship will be ready for you first thing tomorrow morning, I expect no issues.”

~~~

Yeah. There were issues.

Why Y/N had agreed to a mission when they couldn’t even look at each other now wasn’t their best move. They uncomfortably shuffled next to their partner who was also trying to mask his discomfort. They stayed like this, two trained killers who couldn’t even look each other in the eye for more than a second. Through apologies, awkward shuffling and flinching at even the smallest touch, they found it difficult not to say anything.

Y/N was the first to speak. “Hey.” Yoru turned his head. “I uh, I’m sorry I took that knife kill from you. I probably should have-”

Yoru interrupted. “No!” He coughed, and readjusted his tone. “You did well. As long as the target is dead we did our jobs well.”

“I guess so.” Y/N leaned in a bit more towards Yoru, more comfortable in his presence now. “And the look on your face was pretty funny.”

They giggled, and for once Yoru didn’t find it obnoxious or annoying. It was, cute. Comforting. And it made Yoru laugh along too. “I can’t say I disagree.”

Y/N held out their hand. “We make a good team, don’t we?”

Yoru held his out with a smile. “Yeah. I guess we do.”

And in that moment, everything felt right.

~~~

So why did everything go wrong?

Y/N hit the ground running, as fast they could even though they were carrying a whole human over their shoulder. Yoru was loosing blood quick, they knew that, but there wasn’t much they could do until they were out of harms way.

“The drop ship isn’t far, come on, you have to stay with me.” Y/N went as fast as they could, trying to make Yoru comfortable but also rushing at the same time.

The two hobbled into the ship, dodging bullets on their way. Once they were safe, Yoru collapsed on the cool metal floor, blood seeping through his clothes and violently coughing dead air.

“Hey hey hey.” Y/N frantically kneeled next to him and cupped his face. “It’s a 90 minute flight home, you have to hold on a little longer, I’ll do what I can to keep you around until then.”

His face may have been bloody and pale, but Y/N still saw him as the beautiful boy he was. Stroking his cheek and gingerly running their fingers through his hair, Yoru tried his best to muster a smile.

Yoru held the back of Y/N’s neck, trying to bring their face closer down. “Come here.” Y/N leaned down and Yoru lifted his head slightly to meet them with a kiss.

“Keep it together ok?” Y/N said after they broke the kiss. “I can’t lose you.”

Yoru pressed another kiss to their cheek and closed his eyes, knowing that his Y/N would be there when he woke.

[free-pool-trash]

disappointment - peter maximoff

i’ve yet again lost my ability to write :D anyway here you go lovelies <3 idek know what this is tbh i just had to post something (it’s not good im sorry I seriously hate this omg anyway im going)

word count: 2k

warnings: senseless angst, WandaVision spoilers, swearing

comments are appreciated <3

masterlist

“Are you nervous about the mission tomorrow? ‘Cus I am.” Peter’s voice sounded beside your ear. His head was tucked between your neck and shoulder while his chest was pressed flush against your back, his arms wound tightly around your middle.

With a tired yawn, you rubbed your boyfriend’s forearm soothingly. It was late and you were half asleep but you’d been dating Peter long enough to know that he could never sleep if there was something on his mind. “You’re not even going on the mission tomorrow, baby. Why’re you nervous?” You lazily played with his fingers, stopping them from anxiously drumming against your stomach, as you slurred your words sleepily.

Peter let out a heavy sigh and hid his face against your neck, pecking the skin softly with his lips as he did, “I’m not going, but you are. M’worried about you…”

His confession caused your eyes to flutter open.

Peter Maximoff had the biggest heart of anyone you’ve ever met. He loved hard but he worried harder. So when you heard the slight shake in his raspy voice, you twisted in his grip to face him.

His lips were turned downwards, as were his eyes as he avoided your gaze.

“Pete…” You whispered, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. “I’m gonna be okay. Raven and Charles will be with me the whole time, we’ll be in and out. I promise.” You pressed your lips against his quickly before pulling away to look at him, his brown eyes finally meeting yours, his hands holding you tightly against him still.

“I just don’t get why Charles won’t let me come.” He complained with a childish pout.

You let out a quiet laugh before tugging Peter’s head down slightly so his forehead could rest against yours, “We really need this mutant on our side, Pete. Charles insisted that only X-Men with the “powers of persuasion” are going.” You explained, making air quotes despite the fact he couldn’t see them.

With another light kiss you continued, “And hey, what’s the worst that can happen?”

Peter scoffed at that, scrunching his nose up in distaste, “He could blast the only woman I’ve ever loved into a different dimension.” He grumbled, rubbing his nose against yours.

His worry wasn’t exactly misplaced. There’d been a group of mutants on a warpath lately, one of the group slightly friendlier than the others, albeit, still highly malicious. The man in question had the ability to open portals to other realities, and he’d been using said ability to get rid of anyone who stood in his way.

Charles thought he’d be an asset, Raven thought he should be taken out of the picture and you thought the man was more than just a lackey, like he let on.

So Peter, as much as he liked to overthink, was definitely onto something. There was a huge possibility that, if anyone was going to get blasted into another reality on tomorrow’s mission, it was probably going to be you.

Your mutation was mind control, you could make anyone do anything just by saying the words. Charles’ tactic was to try persuade the mutant and if that failed, yourself and Raven would be brought in to manipulate his decision.

“That won’t happen.” You tried to reassure him, letting your hands run through his hair but Peter remained on edge.

“But what if-“ He started but you cut him off with a gentle tug on his silver hair.

“No buts. I’m gonna go on this mission, it’s gonna be a pain in the ass but it’s gonna be fine. I’m going to come home with not even a scratch on me. Then I’ll find you and you’ll kiss me and welcome me home like you always do.” You rattled off the usual post-mission routine with a fond smile across your lips.

Peter let out a defeated sigh, a smile of his own beginning to form as you placed lazy kisses against his jaw.

“Fine. I believe you. But if you don’t come back I’m gonna be seriously pissed.” He jostled your body, chuckling happily when you let out an airy giggle against his neck. “Don’t go getting any ideas, sweetheart. Even going to a different reality won’t get rid of me.”

You continued placing short kisses against his neck and jaw until you worked your way back up to his pink lips, you ghosted over them with your own, only barely pressing them down and pulling a whine from Peter when you pulled away to look at him with a teasing grin.

“So say your lovely girlfriend does get sent to an alternate reality… would you follow?” Within a second of your question, Peter had flipped your positions so that your back was against the mattress and the man in question was hovering on top of you with a cheeky grin.

“Sweet cheeks, I’d follow you anywhere.” He told you and you giggled at the stupid pet name before pulling him down to kiss you.

Your eyes fluttering shut as you murmured against his lips, “I love you, idiot.”

Softly, Peter tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I love you too.

*

It was safe to say that the mission was a complete failure. As you’d thought, the mutant Charles wanted to befriend turned out to have plans of his own, one of those plans being to throw you head first into a different dimension, apparently.

As much as it pained you to admit; Peter was right.

Fuck, he was probably going out of his mind with worry. You kicked yourself internally, not believing that you’d actually been careless enough to get caught out by the burly mutant. Not that it was entirely your fault, now that you thought about it actually, it was pretty much entirely Charles’ fault for doing his usual; not listening to you. You warned him it wouldn’t work, yet he sent you in anyway. If he didn’t find a way to get you home soon you’d… well, you weren’t really sure what you’d do. Probably find Peter and tell him you love him then go kick Charles’ ass.

Dreams of giving your professor the biggest telling off of his life came to a crashing halt when you took in your new surroundings. It seemed you’d been regurgated out in the middle of some run down town, if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought you were still in your own reality, but unfortunately, you did know better.

There was something wrong, or if not already, something was about to go very wrong in the little town. You could feel it. Someone very powerful was about to lose control of themselves. You couldn’t exactly tell the future but you had something of a disaster radar that told you when shit was about to hit the fan.

With nothing else to do, you decided to follow the feeling as it led you to a red car.

Noticing a woman in the driver’s seat, you approached cautiously. When she noticed you walking towards her she rolled down the passenger side window, looking at you with a questioning gaze.

“Sorry to intrude,” You told her genuinely, “It’s just I thought that maybe someone needed help.” You bet around the bush slightly, you knew it was the redhead in front of you that needed help but it wasn’t in your nature to use your powers to demand someone to spill their souls to you.

When her eyes lit up red, you didn’t startle. The feeling of someone poking around your thoughts wasn’t a new sensation to you, Charles seldom knew when to mind his own business, so the fact that the woman before you was reading your mind hardly phased you.

“I’ve got abilities too.” You told her with a small smile before going on, her eyes back to normal and her form more relaxed.

She nodded in understanding, “You’re very far from home, no?” Her tone was sympathetic and you let out a humourless laugh.

“That might be an understatement. Pretty morbid thinking I’ll probably never find my way home.” It was only when you spoke the words that it really hit you that the chances of returning home were slim to none. You’d probably never see the love of your life again, you’d probably have to wave goodbye to any possibility of having a future with your speedster.

Catching onto your miserable train of thought, Wanda leaned over and opened the passenger door for you, motioning for you to get in. Gratefully, you took the stranger up on her offer.

“I’ve lost everything too.” She confessed and you weren’t sure why but you felt the need to comfort her, once again following your instincts, you squeezed her hand and to your surprise, she reciprocated the action.

“My name is Wanda, by the way.” She introduced herself and you responded with a kind smile.

“I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

With a deep breath, Wanda squeezed your hand one last time, then turned to face you. “I have to do something. Will you wait here until I come back? I believe we could be of some help to each other.”

“Of course. Take your time, I’ll wait for as long as you need.” You promised her. Watching as she took another shaky breath and got out of the car and made her way towards the foundation of a house.

After about a minute, Wanda fell to her knees. And then you saw nothing but scarlet.

*

Life in WestView was good. Sure, there were some holes in your memory, but other than that, things were good.

You had a nice house, right next to Wanda’s, your hair seemed to style itself most of the time and the nightmares that plagued you were hardly ever your own. Things were fine.

Being blissfully ignorant was good enough for you for a number of days, until a familiar face caused all of your hopes of living happily unaware to crumble to the ground.

You’d been over at Wanda and Visions house for dinner when he’d knocked on the door. Standing on Wanda’s front porch was the one and only, Peter Maximoff. Your Peter. The person you loved the most and your ticket home.

The second his brown eyes locked on yours you’d been so sure. You would’ve bet your life that the person playing Wanda’s twin was Peter.

Perhaps your fatal flaw was wishful thinking as the hope of your love coming to rescue you, however romantic, was naive.

It hit you like a freight train, that realisation. You were truly and completely alone, for when WestView fell it took all of your hope with it.

He wasn’t Peter and he never had been. Sure, he had his face, his body, his personality and even his superspeed… but he wasn’t him.

When you’d uncovered his true identity with Monica, a part of you shattered on the spot. A familiar, decolate feeling washed over you in the moment and you weren’t sure if you’d even bother to carry on.

It was the kind of gut wrenching feeling of being so disappointed to the point where it physically hurt. It was the pain of truly accepting that he hadn’t actually followed you into another reality, that maybe your love wasn’t strong enough to warrent a visit to another reality and it was the pain of knowing that his life would go on without you.

The X-Men would encourage him to move on and, you had a fair idea of how it would go, he’d fight them relentlessly but eventually he’d cave, he’d let Jean set him up on a date and then he’d go from there, however reluctantly.

And you? You’d simply be a name lost in time. The one they think about, from time to time. You’d be spared nothing more than, “I wonder how she’s doing’ or ‘whatever happened to that girl? Remember the one?”, but life would go on without you.

That sting, you knew, would never leave you. As hope was dangerous and unreliable and painful you made yourself a promise, you wouldn’t hold out for a knight in shining armour to come rescue you. All you could do now was find a way to live. By yourself.

PART 2

[rebeccccccaaa]

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ɴᴇʀᴅ ⓟⓐⓡⓣ ②

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ғʀᴀᴛʙᴏʏ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x sʜʏ-ɪsʜ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀᴜ (ɪɴᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇᴅ ɪ ɢᴜᴇss)

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: (two part series!) You’re starting to struggle in class and decide to ask your professor for some tutoring or extra classes to boost your  grade. He ends up assigning the last person you’d expect to tutor you. (is it really a surprise though?)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: cw: talking about a car accident and infertility

smut 18+  (praise kink, dirty talk, oral fem receiving, hair pulling, marking, choking, slight spanking if you squint, slight bondage), major aftercare, fluff? This is pretty filthy lmao. 

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟺.𝟹 ᴋ (ɪ ᴀᴍ sᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏ sᴏʀʀʏ ᴛʜɪs ɪs sᴏᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ!)

ᴀ/ɴ: Thank you so much for all the love in the last part! I was truly expecting maybe about 20 likes but so far its gotten over 100! Thank you for being so nice to me on my first ever post and hope you enjoy part 2!

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For the next two or so weeks you avoid Bucky like the bubonic plague. You didn’t exactly hate the fact that he kissed, but he was your tutor. Isn’t that inappropriate? Let alone him being a part of a frat house. It wouldn’t be a good mix.

One good thing though is that your overall grade in class has gone up since your tutor sessions with Bucky so at least it wasn’t for nothing. He’s tried to talk to you in class a couple times when you didn't go to him but ended up giving up when you began showing up right when class started or going out of your way to even go near him. 

Again, you didn’t hate him; hell you weren’t mad anymore, but you still avoided at all costs. It’s totally not because you're scared you’ll actually fall for him. How could someone like Bucky even look your way? Maybe he just wanted to get into your pants like all the boys in the house.

You didn’t tell Natasha that Bucky kissed but she could definitely tell that something was up. You were usually at Bucky’s frat house on weekdays but you’ve been canceling sessions every night since the incident. 

One night you were studying alone in your apartment and Natasha was pacing around on her phone. She was dressed to go to a frat party tonight but it seems maybe her ride isn’t available. You wonder why she can’t herself when she has a car.

“Hey Y/n,” Nat crept up to you.

“Yes,” you drew out.

“Would maybe, possibly, perhaps, might be able to be my DD?” she asked.

“Your what?”

“My designated driver. Wanda has a family emergency; her and her brother flew out like an hour ago and I haven’t been able to find anyone to pick me up.”

“I can drop you off and pick you up,” you offered. You’d rather stay up late in case she wants to come home than stay at the party all night, especially if she finds another bed to stay in till morning. 

“I mean you could do that but would it be more fun to actually party for once. Come on babe you’re too uptight, you need to have fun especially with how hard you’re working in school right now.”

“Nat, you know that’s not my scene.”

“Just stay with me. Or Bucky I’m sure he wouldn’t mind hanging with you tonight,” she suggestively, bringing confusion to your face.

“Huh?”

“Oh nothing Just come with me please? If it gets too much text me and I’ll let you know if I need a ride back home.”

“Actually?” you asked.

“Pinky promise.”

“Ok give me like 5 mins.”

You ran to your  room and picked out an outfit you felt sexy but comfortable in; I mean if you were going to inevitably run into Bucky at this party might as well look presentable right? When you came out ready, Nat whistled, hyping you up and felt your face heat up a bit. 

“Stop, let’s just go,” you averted.

You arrived at the house music booming from down the street. People outside drinking from red solo cups, cars already picking up drunks and dropping people off to get said drunk. You hastily parked the car and Nat grabbed your hand and pulled you close as you guys walked to the party. You weren’t going to lie, you were really nervous.

You heard stories about these parties but you were trying to convince yourself that they may be exaggerated somewhat but still didn’t do much for your nerves. When you walked you eyes almost immediately locked with Bucky’s. To say he was shocked to see you at a frat party was for sure an understatement.

Bucky began to move through the crowd to meet up with you but when he got to the entrance it was like you disappeared. Disappointed, he returned to the mini bar where the drinks were all held, where Steve served the drinks. Asked for a beer.

“How’s it going, man?” Steve asked.

“She’s here.”

“Nat? I really think there's something between us. I’m thinking about asking her on a proper date you know?”

“Really? That’s awesome, but I’m talking ‘bout Y/n,” Bucky clarified.

“What? I thought she hated parties.” 

“I did too.”

As if on queue, you tapped Bucky on the shoulder.

“Hi.”

“Hey, what on earth are you doing here?”

“Nat needed a designated driver and Wanda and her brother are out of town.”

“Yeah Pietro lives here in the house, Steve drove him and Wanda to the airport a couple hours ago.”

You nodded your head and things got awkward again, but then again what’s new with that.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“I can’t drink.”

“Oh right. Do we have soda?”

“We coke for the rum but you can take a can.”

“Thanks Steve,” you took a can of coke from him. 

You and Bucky and Steve all held wholesome conversation for a little  bit then Nat came and whisked him away. Bucky was put on bar duty from then on and you decided to keep him company until Nat was ready to go home. But so far from the way Steve and her were dancing together you didn’t think Nat was gonna wanna go home.

You asked Bucky how long Steve and Nat have had their little thing and apparently it’s been going on for awhile. You had sneaking suspicion that they were together in some way but since Nat never brought it up you didn’t want to bug her. It was pretty easy to figure out though considering she didn’t come home some nights.

They’re good together though and you hope they make it official soon.

Talking to Bucky, you felt a hand brush against but when you looked no one was there. You figured it was just getting crowded. After a couple of hours you decided to text Nat to see where she was. When she didn’t respond, you took it upon yourself to call her.

“Nat where did you go?”

“I'm in the car,” she slurred.

“What! You can’t be driving! How did you even get the keys?” you yelled.

“I snatched them from you when you and Bucky were flirting with each other. Steve couldn’t  find his keys so I took yours,” she shouted into the phone.

“When did you- whatever, is he sober?” you asked.

“Yeah and I am not even that dru-,” she hiccuped. 

“Nat…” you warned. 

“Steve is my boyfriend and we’re clean. I’ll be safe; it’s not like I can have kids anyway.”

“Nat.” When you moved in together at the beginning of the year, you noticed one time her grabbing her lower stomach in discomfort and offered her any products for her period. She told you she doesn’t get one and being the dumbass you are you asked why. She told you when she was a teenager she got into a car accident that caused extreme internal bleeding causing Nat to become infertle. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that,” you apologized.

“It’s ok babe. If anything you be safe.”

“She can’t see you, babygirl,” you heard Steve say and laughed out loud.

“Oh! I’m winking!” she shouted.

“Oh my god. Whatever,” you rolled your eyes.

“Anyways buh-bye, girly!” she hung up the phone.

“What happened?” Bucky came up behind you. You looked over at the bar and saw Bruce bar-keeping.

“Nat took the fucking car with Steve.”

“Why didn’t he use my car?”

“She said he couldn’t find the keys and I guess it was easier to just steal from me when I wasn’t looking.”

“Wow, ok. Stealth much?”

“Right? She’s like a Russian spy,” you laughed.

“Well, you probably need a ride then,” Bucky brought up.

“I don’t know if I wanna go home knowing Steve is probably gonna be railing her into the next dimension.”

“Yeah, you can spend the night here. I can sleep on the floor.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah it’s not a problem. We probably have an air mattress hiding somewhere.”

“Thanks Buck. well since I’m not going anywhere I guess I could have a drink now.”

“What’ll it be?”

You drank a couple beers feeling the alcohol beginning to flow effortlessly through your veins. The music was still booming through the house and you found yourself getting lost to the rhythm. You made your way to where everyone was also dancing and let the music guide your body sensually. 

You didn’t notice it yet but Bucky was staring completely in love with the way you were moving. He’d never seen you in this kind of environment and definitely not in the clothing you were wearing. You looked truly sexy even more so dancing the way you were dancing; like you had control over everything in the world.

You soon felt a pair of hands circle around to your waist instantly knowing who they belong to. Bucky moved his hips snug against your backside perfectly fitting with you. You let your head lean back feeling Bucky breathe against your neck.  

“You driving me crazy, doll,” Bucky whispered against your ear.

You shivered at his words. 

“Please, let me show you how fucking stunning you are,” he moved his hands towards the front of your hips.

“What?” you turned around. You hadn’t expected Bucky to want to do anything with you.

“I can make you feel so good. You deserve it.”

“Bucky-”

“Do you want me to make you feel good?”

“I do,” you whined as he rubbed his hands against your lower back, pulling you so close.

He kissed you too softly, barely touching your lips, as he grabbed your hands and led to his room upstairs.  

When you reached his room, the back of his knees hit the bed and he sat while your knees went to either side of his thighs. God his thighs. His hands went up your shirt grazing your bare skin with his fingertips as you continued to makeout sloppily. 

“Can I take this off?” he asked, tugging your shirt.

“Please, yes please.”

Your arms went over your head and Bucky slowly kissed the exposed skin as your shirt inched higher and higher up until he tossed it to the side. The straps of your bra left off shoulders and Bucky continued to kiss any exposed skin on your body. Your hands ran through his hair and you tugged his strands earning a moan in return.

You tugged at his shirt as well and he complied quickly getting rid of his shirt and throwing it to the side. Bucky hands ran over your bottom and you jumped off him nearly ripping your bottoms off your body. You heard bucky chuckled as he too took the opportunity to take his pants off leaving him in boxers and nothing else.

“I want to taste you baby girl,” Bucky bit at your ear.

Your body tensed a bit because although you were not a virgin, you were not that experienced, especially compared to Bucky. 

“Is that ok? I’m sorry, we don’t have to do anything. I don’t want you to regret anything, princess. We can stop.”

“No! I don’t want to stop. No one’s just ever wanted to do that, you know,” you whispered feeling a bit overwhelmed.

“Oh baby, what kinda shit boys were you with? Let me show how good a woman is supposed to feel, got it?”

You swallowed hard, but nodded of course. 

Bucky picked you up and gently laid you down onto the bed. His hands rubbed your thighs softly and he kissed your stomach ever so softly. He was trying his very hardest to make sure you were comfortable and relaxed as much as possible. Bucky traced the lining of your underwear and looked to you once again to make sure everything was ok by you. You nodded but that wasn’t enough for Bucky.

“Words, baby. I wanna hear you say it,” he whispered, lips against your inner thigh. 

“Bucky,” you whined.

“Come on, baby. Use your words like a big girl,” he snickered.

“Please, touch me, Bucky. I want you to use your mouth on me like you promised.”

“There ya go,” he said pulling your underwear down your legs.

He slowly opened your legs and kissed your inner thigh leaving a dark purple mark for him to see and him only. When he was satisfied with the marks he left on your inner thighs he licked a slow and wet line against your pussy. Your hips instantly bucked into his face and your hands flew to his hair.

You tugged at his hair again and released a grunt from Bucky, the vibrations from his mouth pleasuring you even more. Bucky brought his fingers to your hole and he continued circling his tongue around your clit making you moan and arch your back. 

He entered a finger into you and then another. You were already beginning to feel full from just his fingers alone, you couldn’t wait until he was able to fuck you balls deep. Your orgasm was approaching quicker than you anticipated, your toes curled and your back arched off the bed. Your heels dug into Bucky’s back but he simply continued to eat you out until you finally peaked.

“Bucky!” you shouted his name in pleasure.

“That’s it baby girl. You're my good girl, right?”

“Yes, I’m your good girl. Oh god, I’m cumming,” you moaned.

Bucky helped you ride out your first orgasm of the night completely enamored by your beauty. When you finally came down from you high you reached for Bucky pulling him into a heated kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue and moaned into his mouth. You pulled him closer and sat up moving him to sit his back against his headboard.

“I don’t know what I want to do more, return the favor or ride you until my legs shake.”

“You can return the favor another time. Let me see you ride my dick, doll,” Bucky growled. Another time?

You crawled onto Bucky’s lap after he discarded his boxers letting his dick spring up, the tip red from lack of attention. It shocked you if you were being honest, it was so… big. 

“Is that gonna fit?” you asked genuinely.

“Yeah, it will; but if it hurts too much you tell me to stop ok?” you nodded.

Bucky reached behind your back and unclasped your bra only to toss it to wherever the rest of your clothes were. His hands caressing your breasts; thumbs rubbing over your sensitive nipples, sending chills throughout your body. He kissed along your collarbone to your neck to your jaw before whispering in your ear.

“I have to grab a condom from the bathroom, baby girl. Sorry,” he began to move you.

“Why are you sorry?” you stopped him.

“I don’t wanna ruin the mood but safety is important before anything else.”

You weren’t gonna lie that actually kinda shocked you; and turned you on even more. You had completely forgotten about having a condom. You were on the pill but that doesn't mean you shouldn’t still use a condom. Bucky was back in no time and you took the condom from him wanting to put it on for him. Bucky moaned as you wrapped his dick and soon enough you were ready to go, arousal practically dripping down your inner thighs.

Bucky’s hand lid up to the back of your neck as you slid down his cock; both moaning at the feeling. You took a second to move but when you did things practically fell into pace. You quickly found a good rhythm for the both of you and soon enough you felt yourselves growing near climax.

Bucky’s hands gripped at your ass, grunting and moaning at the feeling of your walls gliding in and out of you. He smacked your ass leaving a slight red-ish mark for you to admire later. You pulled him closer, if that was even possible, burying your face in between Bucky’s neck and shoulder. 

“I can feel ya getting close, baby. Fucking squeezing me. Feels so good, princess.”

“I'm gonna come, I’m so close.”

“Don’t come until I say so. Hold it, I know you can. Be my good little girl and fucking hold it.”

You sucked and kissed and licked his neck leaving little marks not nearly as big as the ones he was leaving all over you. Soon enough you felt the coil building in the pit of your stomach snap and you moaned so loud into Bucky’s ear, he almost came from hearing your moans.

“Sorry I literally screamed in your ear.”

“I told you not to come until I say so.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hold it anymore. You felt too good,” you whispered, barely audible.

“That doesn’t matter. I told you to hold it,” Bucky got off the bed and reached for his pants. You got so scared that he was going to leave; terrified. But instead he took his belt he was wearing and stalked back towards you. Oh how the butterflies in your stomach fluttered right now.

“Arms up baby girl. You don’t get to touch me now.”

You complied, your stomach fluttering immensely at the mere thought of what Bucky was going to  do with you now. When he finished looping the belt around the headboard of the bed his hands ran along your entire body kissing here and there until back up to you. 

“Too tight?” you shook your head.

“Perfect. Winter; say the word and I stop,” he kissed passionately, sliding back in you, pussy sensitive from orgasming twice tonight. 

Bucky didn’t take as much time as you did before starting to slam into you over and over again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, toes curling in themselves, tears brimming your eyes. Bucky fingers dug into your waist surely leaving more marks for you in the morning. 

His hand came up to wrap around your neck and squeezed ever so slightly.

“Feel good? My little fucking slut, whining and wiggling under me,” Bucky said, more to himself than anything.

“Fuck-” you moaned. You wrists rubbing against the belt, trying to pull away so you could touch Bucky.

“What is it? You wanna touch me,” Bucky’s hand squeezed a bit more and you moaned even louder, legs wrapping around his waist pulling him closer that way.

“Oh good please Bucky, let me touch you!”

“Uh-uh, bad girls don’t get what they want. If you want to touch me you have to beg me like the good little whore you are,” Bucky growled.

“Fuck Bucky please, I’ll do anything for you just me let me touch you. Please, please, please!”

“Tell me your mine.”

“I’m yours, Buck. All fucking yours. No one else’s!”

“No one is ever gonna fuck as good as I do. Your mine.”

“Yes! I’m yours, oh god,” you moaned.

Bucky was extremely close to cumming and so were you so he undid the belt with one hand skillfully and your arms wrapped around his body pulling as close to you as humanly possible. Your hands ran through his hair and pulled hard as you both fell over the edge. Bucky settled between your legs for a minute kissing your breasts, your chest heaving trying to catch your breath. 

Bucky got up and discarded the condoms making sure there were no tears or rips considering how rough he’d been with you. He didn’t intend to be rough at first but his mind was so clouded with you he practically lost control; but you didn’t mind not one bit. 

Bucky came back with bottled water from a small refrigerator he kept in the corner of his room and held you back and head as you brought the water to your lips. After satisfying your dry and hoarse throat, Bucky picked you up and set down on his bathroom counter, the cold of the marble counter in extreme contrast to your hot skin. 

He cleaned you up and inspected your wrists making sure you weren’t hurt; although they were quite red and would probably hurt in the morning. Lastly, he grabbed a wipe and cleaned the remaining mess of makeup you had put on the night before speaking up again.

“Was I too rough? I didn’t mean to be,” Bucky caressing the sides of your waist. You shocked your head no; the face with a blissfully fucked out expression and a smile making Bucky chuckle. He rubbed your skin with lotion to ease any irritation anything may have caused and kissed the marks he made during sex. He admits that he really likes seeing you marked up by him knowing he’s the only one who gets to see them and make them. Makes him proud that he was able to fuck so good and you loved it too.

He picked you up and took you to bed; kissing you all over one last time before letting you fall asleep in his arms. The last thing you heard before you fell asleep was Bucky whispering about how good were to him, calling you his good little girl; rubbing your back ever so softly putting you to sleep.

+++

You woke the next morning arms and legs tangled with another. You turn your head to find Bucky Barnes’ face tucked into your neck soft breaths tickling your skin. You rubbed his arms and back, nails lightly scratching him causing him to stir a bit.

Bucky pressed soft kisses against your skin and rested his large warm hands on your ass and thighs. You felt the urge to use the restroom and haven’t going last night, you figured you should as soon as possible. Prying your mildly sweaty body from his was obviously unsuccessful with how much stronger he was compared to you. His legs moved further in between your thighs and he began kissing your chest making you giggle in return.

“Bucky, I have to use the restroom,” you grabbed his face.

“Oh, sorry,” he chuckled and released his hold on you, not without whining of course.

You ran into his bathroom and shut the door. When you turned around you gasped realizing how marked up you were. Dark purple spots littered all over your chest and neck. Your wrists were bright red from the belt he used last night; however they didn’t hurt, a bit sore but not painful. Your thighs were also decorated with love bites and hickeys from Bucky last night and you smiled to yourself.

After you used the bathroom you cleaned yourself as well as possible but admittedly needed a shower in the end. You opened the door only to find Bucky, grinning like a little boy. You folded your hands underneath your chin evidently hiding your body with your arms as much as you could. 

Bucky came up to you and placed his hands on your waist kissing the top of your head before turning you around to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror. His body was flush against your and you could feel his dick sitting against your ass and lower back. His face came up and rested on your shoulder then grabbed your hands to wrap them behind his head and yours. 

You played with his hair a bit feeling so confident and loved by the affection Bucky has been giving since you came into his room. His hands ran across your body everywhere they could reach before making eye contact with you in the mirror.

“Look at you, goddamn.”

“What?” you chuckled.

“Do you see what I’m seeing?”

You shook your head, feeling incredibly shy suddenly.

“Look how  fucking beautiful and gorgeous and perfect you are. Geez, I can’t even handle it.” 

You laughed out at how dramatic he was being.

“Goddamn, I could stare at your perfect body all fucking day,” he whispered, it wasn’t in a sensual tone however. It was almost like he was saying to himself, like he actually wanted to do as such.

“Please stay,” he asked you.

“Are you ok?” you sensed he was being incredibly serious, almost about to cry even.

His sad painted with sadness, eyes begging you to stay with him for the day. He wanted something with you.he wanted to be yours and hoped to God that you’d be his in return.

“Stay with me. Please?” you realized you didn’t think he was talking about staying for now, he meant stay with him, as a partner.

“What happened?” you caressed his face in your hands. He lifted you and placed you on the counter Like he did the night before, settling his hips in between your legs.

“They always leave,” he whispered.

“Who? ”

“I didn’t want to just sleep around with girls anymore so I started talking to them and taking them out but every time the night we had sex, they would always leave. I tried talking to them the next day but they always said they didn’t want anything out of it. So I stopped having sex altogether.” 

Your heart ached for him. You didn’t want to do that to him. Of course you thought about it, but that was clearly before you realized Bucky wanted to be with you.

“I won’t leave.”

“We can stay in my room all day. You don’t even have to get out of bed. I can grab a couple game consoles from downstairs and we play on the tv. We order breakfast. I’ll wash your clothes. We have a washing machine in the basement,” Bucky said excitedly, you smiled excited as well for your day with Bucky.

“Can we take a shower first?” you asked.

“Yes of course, let’s take a shower.”

“Let’s?” you wiggled your eyebrows.

“Of course. Maybe we can pop in a couple rounds while we’re at it,” Bucky winked.

“Bucky!”

______________________

Ok, all done. :) Hope you liked it and maybe give it a little like or reblog? You don’t have  to though lol

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ! 

@baddie-barnes

@calwitch

@red42985

[aster-aspera]

It’s just my skin

@badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: loss of hearing

Pairings: (platonic) jonmartim

Warnings: claustrophobia, hospitals, hearing loss

Masterlist

If you liked it please reblog <3

The aftermath isn’t as quiet as Tim thought it would be.

Maybe it’s the fact that he isn’t dead even though he should be, maybe it’s the dreadful ringing in his ear, maybe it’s the way his chest is heaving in gasping breaths he can’t hear.

There’s a thousand pounds of stone pressing down on his back and somewhere far above him he can feel the ground rumble and shift. He can’t even find it in himself to worry about the whole place coming down. He wasn't planning on making it out alive either way.

He thinks he floats in and out of consciousness for a bit. Time seems to wind and stretch and loop back, only the rubble on his back and the incessant ringing to keep him company.

Something shifts eventually, a change in the air at first, the darkness becoming just a bit softer, a bit less cloying.

And then there are hands and stretchers and needles and people pulling and prodding him and over it all is still that high pitched ringing, rising higher and higher into an impossible crescendo. He thinks they ask him things, he is sure he sees their lips moving and their expectant gazes. He thinks he tries to say something, but his lips feel awkward and unwieldy.

Everything goes dark after that. A cool blessed darkness where he just floats, no stone, no rubble, no dust, just peace.

He thinks about Danny for a while, and the ritual and the burning collapse of it all and the way Sasha smiled at him every morning when he came into the archives. Then he just sleeps.

He wakes up a bit more coherent the next time. The ringing isn’t gone yet, but at least his brain doesn’t feel like it’s through different planes of dimensions at a hundred kilometres per hour anymore. At least now he can breathe without the dust clogging his lungs.

He looks around the overbright hospital room, the disconnected monitor and the IV dripping a clear fluid into his veins. There’s a bouquet of orange flowers on the bedside table. Probably from Martin, he thinks bitterly. There’s no one else who would go through the trouble.

Martin walks into his room at some point and Tim wonders why he’s here and not hovering around Jon like some lost puppy. Maybe Jon didn’t make it out of the explosion.

Something sharp and painful shoots through Tim’s chest at the thought and he does his best not to examine it too closely.

He looks up at Martin, whose lips are moving as he fusses with the flowers on the little table. Tim stares up at him uncomprehendingly, waiting for sound to come through, waiting for that unbearable ringing to resolve itself into something he can understand.

It doesn’t.

“I can’t hear,” He says, his lips forming the words, his vocal cords vibrating, but no sound comes out, not to him at least. Martin looks up at him with concern, his mouth moving in shapes that should have been familiar, had they been accompanied by the right noises.

“I can’t hear,” Tim says again. And this time, it doesn’t come out half as controlled. He can feel something very close to panic crawling it’s way up his throat and he doesn’t quite manage to swallow it down.

Martin presumably says something else, before giving up and typing something on his phone, shoving it into Tim’s hands before stalking out of the room.

Getting a doctor, stay here

Well of course he’s going to stay here, does Martin really think he’s going to wander around London when he’s just survived an explosion? He isn’t Jon.

He waits impatiently in his bed, rubbing the uncomfortably thin hospital sheets between his fingers and trying to adjust the flat pillows so he can sit up.

Eventually the doctors come in and once again, it’s back to being poked and prodded. Doctors examining his ears and brain and all the million scans they take, with Martin occasionally coming in to hover over him, bringing along coffee from the cafeteria.

In the end, the verdict is predictable. Permanent damage from his proximity to the explosion. Figures he couldn’t just walk out of that unscathed.

And most people would probably consider being permanently deaf better than being dead. Tim wasn’t too sure he agreed with them  yet.

They let him go home eventually, with a whole laundry list of instructions on how to care for himself. Tim throws the papers into a corner as soon as he gets home. He’ll be fine, he’s survived Jane Prentiss, he can survive this. And it isn’t like it matters much.

His phone buzzes to life when he sticks it into the socket, all the messages he missed streaming in at once, a tidal wave of promotional mails and push notifications. He’s half tempted to just shut it off again when he notices one text notification between all the others.

Jon

Martin had told him he was alive, of course. But something about seeing his name displayed black on white on his phone screen drives the point home in a way Martin’s scribbled notes hadn’t done. Something sharp and hot shoots through his chest and he wants desperately for it to be that familiar anger that carried him through the last few months.

But as he lets his head fall back onto the couch, he can’t quite feel it burn the same, and without its familiar warmth, he feels hollow in a way he hasn’t since Danny died.

He swipes away the message without reading it and curls up on the couch, pulling an old, dusty blanket over himself and shutting his eyes. He tries not to think too much of the darkness after the explosion, of the plaster dust swirling through the air and settling in his lungs, of the stone crushing his limbs at awkward angles.

A dark apartment isn’t much like a collapsed building but his brain doesn’t care when it brings up vivid images of his time under the rubble. Despite it all, he does eventually drift into the comforting darkness of sleep, his slumber taking the pain and weariness out of his bones for just a moment.

It’s peaceful, till he wakes up gasping from a nightmare.

His desk rattles slightly when a heavy book is dropped on it and Tim looks up in annoyance, ignoring the painful squeezing in his chest when he meets Jon’s tired, regretful eyes.

‘Learning sign’ The book proclaims and Tim feels irritation bubbling up.

“Fuck off,” He says, focusing his attention once again on his desk.

‘I know sign, I can help, or at least recommend you some classes/books’ Jon informs him through the notes app on his phone.

“I don’t need your help.”

‘I know you don’t, but I’d like to'

“Why? So you can feel better about everything that happened? You think this is going to fix it?”

‘I’m sorry Tim’

“Sorry is too late,” he bites out, shoving out of his chair roughly. He tries to move past Jon, make it out of this stifling, dusty room, get somewhere it doesn’t feel like the walls are watching him.

A rough, calloused hand shoots out, wraps around his wrist like a vice. Jon’s eyes are dark with concern and Tim feels an odd anger at the expression. How can he show so much empathy after everything that happened?

He looks at the hand wrapped around his wrist and suddenly, it’s all just too much.

The deafening ringing in his ears, this wretched place that trapped him and choked him and took his best friend from him. And Jon, eyes still hopeful, still compassionate, after Tim had blamed him and hurt him for months on end.

“Go away,” He tries to say and he doesn’t even make it to the first syllable before his voice betrays him with a choked sob. A shudder runs through him and he looks down at the wooden floor, trying to compose himself.

The grief has never felt as all consuming as it does in this moment and it chokes and burns and pulls him under all at once.

And then, there are arms around him. A familiar touch, a familiar weight, from days so long ago Tim can barely remember them. The first touch that isn’t hostile, the first comfort he has felt in so long.

And it’s all from the man he’s tried to hate for months.

His hands curl themselves tightly into Jon’s cardigan and he buries his face in his shoulder, biting back tears with all his might. It doesn’t do much good against the tidal wave of emotions sweeping through him and soon he’s shaking all over with the sobs that wrack through his body.

Jon’s hand comes up in a familiar movement, brushing through Tim’s messed up curls. It’s hesitant at first, as if Tim will yell at him again, but when he makes no motion to do so, only melting deeper into the hold, the fingers carding through his hair become surer.

There’s a rumble against his cheek as Jon says something and Tim wishes desperately he could still hear it, hear Jon’s sure and steadying voice.

He remembers when, near the beginning of it all, he would stand in the corridor outside of Jon’s office and listen as his voice drifted through the halls, all the pain and fear and emotions painted so clearly on it. He’d always thought Jon a bit ridiculous for the way he read those statements. Now he just wished he could hear it one more time.

He closes his eyes as the loss of his family and his friend and even his hearing tear through his chest, leaving him shattered and shaking.

Jon’s chest rumbles again and Tim presses his cheek into it, pretending for just a moment he can hear a sound that isn’t the awful ringing.

Another pair of hands close around him, softer ones, broader ones. They pull him up gently and he’s not entirely sure how they both ended up on the floor, it probably has something to do with how broad he is and how skinny Jon is.

He’s pulled close against a soft, broad chest and relaxes into it almost immediately. Martin’s safe, he always has been.

He’s deposited gently on the cot, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a warm mug of tea pressed into his hands. He feels a bit like a child, being coddled and carted around. But right now, he can’t find it in himself to care.

He thinks Jon and Martin are saying stuff. Martin’s chest is rumbling against his back and he tilts his face so he can feel it better. Martin runs a comforting hand along his face, brushing away the tears that stick to it.

A hand settles on his knee, comforting and grounding and he’s sure it’s Jon’s. Both of Martin’s hands are occupied holding him together after all.

He closes his eyes. He can deal with the mess of it all tomorrow.

Right now, he just feels safe. His friends are here and that’s enough.

[etchedstars]

don’t show your weakness

would you believe me if i said i havent watched s4

byler songfic - don’t show your weakness by the head and the heart 

-

it's the feeling when you first know that you're older and the years show

okay, okay, okay. he knows. he’s not stupid. he knows he fucked up somewhere in the past few - months? years? - in between the here and the gone. at some point between the point that joyce and jonathan and el and will left, to now, when he’s stepping off the airplane, mike wheeler messed something up with his best friend. at some point, something changed, and he didn’t notice, god -  

maybe if he was a bit smarter, he could’ve pinpointed it. because he’s just dumb, too stupid to be able to tell the point when will had simply just given up. it happened. he knows it did, and he remembers enough about will to know that he’s lying to mike, and that’s a new thing completely. 

he knows, okay? more than he wants to. he knows that something’s fucked up.

he just doesn’t know what to do about it. what he can do about it. 

shit, this is all so fucked. 

i know everyone said to put it to bed

so where’d he go wrong, then? when did he lose the ability to talk to his best friend? it wasn’t ever this bad between them, because even when will was in another dimension and possessed and targeted, mike had known that will was trying. that he was trying, too. when did he give up? 

it wasn’t his fault, that’s for sure. and he tells will so. because it’s not his fucking fault. there are - there’s letters, they’re in an old shoebox, he wrote so many and just waited to send one when will sent one first, but he never did, he never - 

he doesn’t tell will that part. but it’s so unfair for it to be his fault. he tried. he tried. 

baby, just pack up and head home but it's too hard, and you don't wanna let go

but maybe - and he can’t stop himself from thinking - there’s still a chance. even though the first real conversation he had with his (ex?) best friend was about him lying to him. and it wasn’t really even about that. it was that will just didn’t bother, at all, and mike didn’t - couldn’t - deal with that.  

and just - how could he think that? that this silence, the lack of letters, whatever-it-was-in-wills-eyes-when-he-looks-at-mike defines anything? it doesn’t change the last decade of friendship. it doesn’t change anything at all in mike’s mind, because this awkwardness wasn’t their entire friendship. 

so no. he’s not going to stop starting petty fights with him. because will can read mike like a book, and the language hasn’t changed, so how hard would it have to be for him to tell that the you should’ve reached out more that he half-yelled meant i fucking missed you? 

and all the waiting are we failing still?

what’s the worst part about this is that he tried. he would call the house, and nobody would pick up, and then el had to send him a letter about joyce’s new job as a telemarketer when he remembered that - right. will wasn’t as easy to get in touch with anymore. he wasn’t one radio away. 

he was across the country. and it made it so much harder. 

we swore that we'd find gold in these damn hills

he’d thought this week was going to be good. 

his girlfriend, his best friend, everything was going to be normal. it was going to be like the older times, the however-long-ago, and they would just pick up where they had left off. 

but now he’s in a van, driven to who-knows-where in a car that stunk of weed, with his best friend who’s not entirely normal anymore, and he’s supposed to be thinking about el, his kidnapped girlfriend, but all he can do is think about the boy sitting feet away who refuses to look him in the eyes anymore.

don't show your weakness

on the first day, he sits there, looks out the window, looks at will, sleeps. buries a dead guy in the desert (because holy shit, is this what his life’s come to now?). sits on a car and talks to will about something he can’t entirely remember because he’s too busy trying to commit to memory this moment. 

i'm beginning to see it's time for the reset

he misses how it used to be. they used to be able to fill a silence this long with stories. 

don't you know that you need it?

and for the billionth time, he thinks - when did we get like this? 

and then - why?

it will hit you when you least expect it and your words will fail you

on the second day, he sits on a car with will and tries to ignore the way their hands stay clasped when will helps mike off the floor where he slept. and how he knows his eyes go to will’s lips when he laughs. and how they talk again, finally, and it’s not stilted or angry or bad, and he’s grinning to the window because holy shit i missed this i missed him so much.  

but our time here is just too fragile to touch

and then he has to go and ruin it again, mention el, see the flash of emotions will can’t hide quickly enough. he sees him freeze up, see him look away, and somehow the fact that he turns away hurts more. they’re siblings, he remembers. they’re siblings and will cares too. 

so do what you must to protect it but it's always the hardest lesson

he moves on quickly from that. or he tries to. it seems a new hell for will to reassure him about el, but in retrospect that was what he asked, so - 

and on the way down

the car’s quiet that night, will having finally convinced jonathan and argyle to take a break; jonathan from driving, argyle from navigating. mike lost all filtering abilities - the already (nearly) nonexistent ones around will - at some point in the evening. it’s late - early? - and the stars are out. 

everything is okay. 

he believes it. 

before you drift asleep

will’s still awake too, just barely like he is, and mike is laying down across the seat and looking up at him, and it’s probably because it’s one in the morning that will’s just - running his hand through his hair, and its good and comfortable and at some point it went silent but it’s a good silence, a normal one. he thinks he falls asleep like that, will’s hand in his hair, the stars winking at him through the window.

know that we both wanted the same thing 

he remembers the look in will’s eyes, looking down on it, because the feel of it chases him through his dreams that night. and he wants this in all its fucked up glory. he wants this with him. and, holy shit, that’s terrifying.

a problem for another day, though, and smiles through the haze of sleep tugging at him. 

don't show your weakness

it’s only that morning, when he wakes up in the same position he fell asleep in to will’s hand still tangled in his hair, asleep and leaning on the window, when he realizes oh shit. 

i'm beginning to see it's time for the reset

this is wrong, this is bad on so many levels. for one thing, he’s already dating someone, and it’s not him. for another thing, this is will, his literal best friend, a boy, and he already knows it’s not normal. at least his dad thinks it is. it’s not that he has a problem, it’s just god what is happening. 

shit shit shit shit, and he’s trying to figure out if it’s rude to try to sit back up, when will blinks a couple times. he watches will look at him, half-smile, brush his hand out of his hair, look out the window and back at him. 

don't you know that you need it?

don’t, he wants to say. he stays lying down. 

this was normal once, he remembers. this was normal. just touching will, holding his hand, putting his arm around him. that’s why he thought nothing of it last night. what had changed for him to be so different? 

long nights, sleepless

he remembers the years before like the back of his hand, remembers staying by his side in the days after when the nightmares were just nightmares and not visions. there were good nights and bad, nights where will would fall asleep on his shoulder while watching movies and still wake up crying. those had been the days lonnie had hurt him, had hit him, had left. 

i can tell that you feel it

and then the dreams became real. he hadn’t known what to do, neither of them had, because what else could he have done other than keep his arm around will the whole walk home? what could he have done other than stay? and even then, even then he couldn’t do that.

jump off the deep end

because he’d been there, forever and always, sleeping beside him in the white room so it could be a sleepover instead of a hospital stay. he’d seen the way will seemed so close when he spoke to him, and he’d only poured out his heart because there was such a chance that this could’ve been it. his words meant nothing, he knew, but it was the only weapon he knew how to wield.

and it’d worked, at least a little. 

love, i know you can beat it 

but what if it hadn’t? like last summer? what if will had been alone? he’d’ve been dead, he would’ve been part of the hive mind or attacked by a demogorgon or its fucked little spawn or shivering and sick and cold and gone and gone and gone -

but will is here still. next to him. will’s hand is on his elbow and he looks down at it, up again. what are you - ?

are you okay? 

it’s written all over his eyes. 

he nods, trying for a smile. will nods back and releases his grip on his elbow.

no. and because he’s a spontaneous piece of shit, mike catches his hand instead. 

well, the lights went black in the adirondacks we were thumbing our way up the road

jonathan and argyle are asleep again, again persuaded by will. and will’s out too. and he’s going to be quick, just going to take a breath of fresh air and go back in and try to sleep. he’s been stuck in here for way too long. it’s not healthy. 

he pulls what pathetic piece of clothing that counts as a sweater closer to him as he steps out of the van. the air hits him like a blast, and he almost turns around, despite the entire van stinking of weed. he kicks a rock, watches it disappear into the darkness, kicks another one. 

the door swings open behind him. will, hugging himself slightly as he steps closer to him. “what are you doing?” 

“just getting some air. no big deal. did i wake you up?” sleep’s a luxury to them both. this must not have been good sleep if he’d followed him outside.

there were lightning bugs in the graveyard

“is something wrong?”

“no, i - i’m just - i don’t know. worried.” it’s true. he is. 

“we’re gonna make it, mike. she’s going to be okay.” and she is, el is, because why would she need him to be ok? el’s better without him, doesn’t need this to be okay, and maybe that’s fine.

dancing on top of the old headstones

so yeah, maybe it’s logical to say “yeah. i know. i know she is.” he hadn’t believed, really, in any of it. but it - it’s true. she’s okay, or she’s going to be, with or without him. “but what if - after all of this - she doesn’t need me anymore?”

“of course she’ll still need you. she’ll always need you.” (and instead of thinking about her, this takes him back, a little further, the possession era - forever and always. he’d stay. he’s not leaving. he didn’t leave. but he left el.) 

“yeah, that’s what i keep telling myself, but i don’t think i... i don’t think i believe it.” and he looks at him, sitting pressed against the van, knowing that will can’t really see him, and it makes it all the easier. “she’s special. she was born special. and maybe i was the first to see that, but i don’t know, i just stumbled across her in the woods. it wasn’t fate, destiny, it was just dumb luck. and one day she’s going to see that.” 

do you understand? his voice becomes more, more insistent - “she’s already beginning to understand she doesn’t need me. i saw it in her eyes the last time we talked. i just - i don’t - i’m scared, i guess. like maybe i - i don’t know - want someone to need me like i - i thought she did -” 

and we lost ourselves in the magic there

“stay here for a second.” the crunch of his shoes on gravel, the opening of the van door, the feel of the cold metal on his head where he leans it against the van. when he comes back, he clicks something on - a flashlight - and unfolds something. under the weak glow of the flashlight, he can see it. 

a painting. he runs his fingers past the dragon, the trees, to the minuscule drawing of him. him and will. “this is amazing,” he says, and amazing doesn’t begin to cover it. “you painted this?” he painted this, and he painted this for him, and maybe, maybe - 

because whatever this - this is, whatever has shifted, maybe there’s a name for it, feelings like the ones he should’ve had for el - holy shit - he looks again, looking for something -

“yeah. i - i mean, el commissioned it. told me what to draw.” 

this is the first lie. when has el cared about dnd? - his brain latches on to something to keep his heart from plummeting completely as will continues. he might as well have had his head bitten off by the painted three-headed dragon. his finger pauses on the drawing of him, sword up, in front of all the others. leading the charge.

in the moment that we had alone

it falls silent again, and he looks up, the light from the flashlight illuminating his face. will’s near tears. he clicks the light off. 

“when you’re different,” he’s saying, his inhale ragged, “sometimes you feel like... like a mistake. but - but you make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all. like she’s better for being different. and it gives her the courage to continue on.”

this is the second lie, because he knows that he’s made el feel like a mistake. it was on accident. they both know that. but it still happened. 

“and if she was mean to you, or - or she seemed like she was pushing you away - it’s probably because she was scared of losing you. like you were scared of losing her. and if she was going to lose you, she’d want to get it over quick, like ripping off a band-aid. because losing you, it - it hurts. too much.” 

oh.

“so yeah, el needs you. and she always will.” 

and we knew it without saying nothing

he stops, turning over this information over in his head. this isn’t right. this el isn’t right. it’s not the version of her he knows - max would kill him if she could hear his inner monologue - but what will’s saying, and what el’s shown, they don’t add up. 

“but do you need me?” he asks instead. it’s stupid, it’s confirmation of what he already knows, and he seems to be in the part of the night where he couldn’t filter his thoughts if he tried. “because - are you lying?”

“what? i - el needs you. she always has.”

“yeah, but i’m not talking about el. and you’re not either.”

beside him, will huffs out a breath, frozen in the cold air. “i know. you’re - you’re right, in case you couldn’t tell. you’re right, i need you. and do - do you -”

he nods, an unspoken answer to a question unasked. it’s not enough, so he begins talking, and like the stories he wrote as a kid, there is no hidden meaning and no underlying lesson. just him and truths. 

“i still get nightmares. and they won’t compare to yours, ever. mostly they don’t change; i see bob getting eaten, i see el disappearing. and i see you. from when you were possessed. and do you remember the day in the shed with jonathan and ms. joyce? they talked first, and i watched you. you seemed so much closer to us than before. and then i talked. and your eyes were brown, and i can see the disbelief in your eyes, like it’s not real, like what i’m saying isn’t real. and no matter what i say, how much i tell you, how much of my heart i pour out, you just - never come back.”

we were just two lost souls trying to puzzle our way back home

he turns to look at will, insistent and bright. “but it’s true. what i said. asking if you wanted to be my friend is the best thing i’ve ever done. and losing you was the worst.”

will laughs, just once. “you didn’t lose me. not really.” 

this is when mike kisses him. 

don't show your weakness

the next few spots of time are a blur. one of el and red and screams and sobbing and hugs. he tries to be stable. he tries to be there like el needs him to be, solid and comfortable and there. open arms, tears that are real, feelings that are wrongly labeled. 

and they haven’t had time to talk in the van, minus whispered - inconsequential - conversations in the car when will and jonathan and argyle were asleep. and these aren’t about what they need to talk about. him and el have never been comforting or solid or there like they needed each other to be, so surely el sees past the front he puts up for her.  

she says nothing. so he speaks first.

i'm beginning to see it's time for the reset

the night they return to hawkins: jonathan drives in silence. el’s head on mike’s shoulder. 

“are you okay?” she asks..

“yeah.” lie.

“friends don’t lie,” and she says it with the affectionate eyeroll audible in her voice. 

“hey, is it - is it okay if we’re just friends? and i’m not your boyfriend?”

she goes quiet. 

“i love you - so much - but not in the way you need me to, and i’m sorry.”

then she lifts her head off his shoulder, looks at him with more understanding in her eyes than  in so, so long, and corrects him. “want.” and she places her head back down and says “it’s okay.” 

and that, he guesses, is that.

don't you know that you need it?

the cabin is rundown. el helps with the worst of it - shattered bookshelves that she fixes quickly, the fallen refrigerator, the couch that lost and regained half its stuffing. then she goes into her room, leaving mike and will to clean the rest. 

“is she-”

“yeah.”

will picks up a piece of glass, debris from a smashed window. “i should go talk to her. at least try to get her to help more.” his voice raises slightly at the end.

“no, will, you can sweep up glass by yourself,” calls eleven from her room. 

“whatever. i’m gonna find a dustpan or something.”

“by the sink,” el helpfully inputs from behind her closed door. 

long nights, sleepless

when it’s been several minutes, and the sound of will’s footsteps stops, he calls for will. when he doesn’t respond, he sees an open door illuminating a figure in the front that he recognizes well. 

“will?” he calls. he doesn’t turn around. “will!”

i can tell that you feel it

he’s not moving, he’s not turning around, he’s shaking, and all of a sudden they’re back on the middle school field and he’s not moving he’s not right and he shouts for el, who’s right behind him as he catches up to the will figure. “shit, shit shit, what’s happening to him, what’s happening,” and he’s rambling nearly incoherently, aware of a screeching car and the radio blasting something familiar and oh shit his eyes are rolled back shit shit shit shit shit - 

“mike, shut up!” nancy yells. “let the - let the music -”

his brain clocks the chorus of should i stay or should i go. he shakes his head slightly frantically. “it’s not gonna work, it’s an upside down song, it’s not his favorite, it won’t work like you think it’s gonna, nancy i know it worked for max but this isn’t a good song -”

jump off the deep end

and then he’s fucking levitating. “will!” he screams, grabbing at him to no avail.

“the song’s about to end anyways.” fucking nancy, always calm how can she be calm when will is floating away?

“will, come on, please, you can’t let this happen, you can’t leave again. come on, come on -”

love, I know you can beat it

will’s eyes open, he comes crashing down, and mike doesn’t exactly catch him, acting more like he’s a crash pad than anything else. “okay, okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” he whispers, his arms around him too tight, aware that neither will nor he himself believe his words. 

but he’s alive, he’s real, he’s here and despite the tears and the ragged breathing coming from them both, he continues. 

you’re okay. you’re okay. you’re real.

well, the lights went black

and he knows. finally. 

maybe mike wheeler is fucked up. but he knows, he knows, he knows that out of all the fucked up things in his fucked up little life, his best friend - boyfriend - is one of the better ones.

well, the lights went black 

[gummy-friend]

23, 45, and 50 with piglin hybrid Techno and tiny avian hybrid Phil? ‘v‘ you don’t gotta do all or any of these! ALSO I WANNA SAY THAT I LOVE YOUR WRING SM ❤️💕💖💕❤️

Thank you so much, I'm happy you like my writings!!!! :DD

So sorry for the late answer, but know that I appreciate your ask so much

———

• "You're going to be okay, I promise"

• "Shhh, just sleep, you're safe"

• "No one is going to hurt you again"

Piglin hybrid Techno and Tiny avian hybrid Phil

Content warning: Calling a person as "It" and language

——————

A gunfire shot echoed.

"There it is!" A shout echoed, a man pointing towards high trees. A dark green shadow— No, not leaves— floating limpingly amongst the brown of the branches and trunks.

"Is there a net?!" another shout. Another man. Panting as they chase the tiny flying figure.

"The last net has been fired two shots ago!" the first one called out

"Fuck— It's a hybrid tiny, too" A huff, a big one. Two people in arms finally stopping, holding their knees in exhaustion. "Damn it, that'll sell so well"

They stopped.

But not the tiny, though.

The occasional sharp small branch sticking out, the leaves that's positioned unfortunately fit for a papercut, and the eventual large branch finally hitting the golden haired avian hybrid tiny in his head. The injuries came together, the no-longer-shiny black wings finally gave up, and the flying figure of a tiny avian hybrid fell down. Now stopping after the hunters has stopped.

ｏｏｏ

Being a piglin hybrid has its perks, Techno thinks. The piglin on the nether wouldn't go exactly after you unprovoked, you can still live in the cold (not advised, by the way, it sucks in the cold), and you can adapt to the overworld just fine— well, excluding the townspeople avoiding you, at least.

Of course, the good also comes with the bad. The piglin back at home absolutely despises you(because you look 'too human' or whatever), the nether temperature eventually became absolutely unbearable, and..

"Oooh, gold" The lingering feeling of attraction to gold. Except this time, it's not gold.

But a golden-haired tiny.

Listen, Techno's not heartless, there's no way he'll abandon another living being in help, no matter how awkward it may be— imagine waking up to a giant piglin hybrid, if that isn't awkward Techno doesn't know what it is (No, it's absolutely not fear, what do you mean) — So Techno took the tiny in.

After leaving the nether dimension, Techno tried living in a tundra biome. But it didn't work for him— he's not used to the cold— So he tried to live in the forest. It's a decent place, he figured out he can grow crops for a living— trading is also a steady source of income in the overworld. But getting back on the topic— Techno lives in a cabin in the woods, and is currently carrying a tiny home. It's a questionable situation, but hey, it's the thought that counts right? (or however the overworld saying goes)

Techno inspected the unconscious tiny— He's still breathing, fortunately. Techno doesn't know how to feel if he picked up a tiny corpse— Several cuts are visible on the tiny's skin. It doesn't look that bad— excluding the large cut on his side and the practically broken right wing— M-hm, not that bad.

Step one, Washing your hands before cleaning the injury. It's a fairly-large wound for someone so small, and fortunately, the wound has stopped bleeding, so Techno shouldn't worry about that.

Next step, applying antibiotic. Techno's certain he has a bottle of antibiotics— yeah, he has one— an almost brand-new bottle of antibiotics, he's glad he bought one yesterday.

As soon as the antibiotic made contact with the tiny's wounds, though, the tiny shot up with a hiss of "Fuck—!"

。。。

Phil woke up when Techno was washing his hands.

He had heard a stream of water and several footsteps— he thought he fell unconscious near a river. It doesn't matter, he can get up later, he's too hurt for getting up.

Until the stinging pain emerged from his side.

"Fuck-!" Phil cried out, moving away from the supposed source of pain

That fumkign hurts. Phil doesn't know what happened, it may be a bee— but bees doesn't attack unprovoked, then, what?

With each second passing Phil's head pounded even more, forcing him to focus and unfocus on his surroundings. A Wooden floor— Polished wooden floor, not the usual tree bark footing he occasionally sees— Unfamiliar surroundings— No trees or the usual greens he sees everyday, no, it's a human furniture surroundings.

As if his mind is saving the worst for last, Phil's vision finally focuses on the giant figure in front of him. The figure of a giant piglin hybrid.

Instantly, Philza's mind clicked. Human— no— hybrid furniture surroundings, him being unconscious, the stinging pain on his sides— Fuck— The piglin was going to eat him.

"Fuck no—" Phil breathed out, scooting backwards. Unfortunately, it's futile, as he quickly reached the edge of the wooden table. Phil looked at the drop, and fumk, it's a fucking high drop— his- his wings are broken

"Uh—" The piglin hybrid called out. Phil's head turned to look at him— head still pounding too hard to focus on the piglin hybrid's expression. "You're... you're hurt." The piglin hybrid gave Phil a sad excuse of an explanation. No shit, sherlock.

"S-so?" Phil glared, trying so hard to not fall off the table— or should he? Is one wing enough to shield his fall..?

"I'm... I'm trying to treat your wounds..?" the piglin hybrid said. Another look from Phil and he saw a white bottle of whatever— it's suspicious "Look, I found you unconscious on the forest floor, I'm just trying to heal you"

Phil is not listening to the guy, still scanning the things on the giant piglin hybrid's hands. A white suspicious bottle, a clump of cotton possibly doused in the suspicious bottle's content, and a wide, white, suspicious rope(..?) On the other end of the table.

"I'm not going to hurt you." the sudden voice from the piglin hybrid startles Phil. Maybe it's because of the reassuring tone of the man, suddenly, Phil's mind starts to focus more "You're going to be okay, I promise"

With that, the giant lowered the things in his hands. First, the suspicious white bottle. "Antibiotics" it reads.

"It's for cleaning your wound— it stings, that's why you woke up— but it's not a bad thing" The piglin hybrid explained, noticing Phil's confused expression (Antibiotics sounds fuckinh suspicious) "And to apply the antibiotics, I used the cotton" He lowered the cotton near the 'Antibiotics' bottle— but not too close to Phil. "see, I'm not trying to hurt you"

"...and that rope?" Phil questions. He's convinced about the antibiotics, but not the weirdly-shaped rope

"...rope?" The piglin hybrid blinked, confused.

"That!" Phil pointed at the weirdly-shaped rope "That weirdly-shaped rope!"

"You've... never seen a bandage before..?"

"...what?"

"That's- that's a bandage— it's for keeping the wound clean and preventing it from opening up again" He explained, a hint of amusement behind his confusion. Okay. "Are you satisfied now?"

Maybe it's because of embarassment, maybe it's because of finally feeling convinced, but Phil nodded to the human's word.

The consequence of agreeing fucking hurts— Fuck, it hurts.

The antibiotics really does fucking sting.

"Fuck!" another shout, and Techno— Phil had learned his name in the middle of the stinging pain (Saying Piglin hybrid man is too long and well, rude)— Techno finally finished applying the antibiotic.

"Done." Techno said, tone light like he never stung Phil. "You can rest there, I think I still have spare cloths for you to sleep on"

"Wait, sleep?" Phil spoke up, bewildered. Sure, he's exhausted after all of the things happening today, but that doesn't mean he want to sleep in a human— wait, no, Hybrid— but still, a Giant's house. That's a death flag right there.

"Ya" Techno said, Another light answer. "your body need to rest to have the energy to heal. Also, the bandage will need to be changed"

"Sleep here?"

"Ya" Techno's response is light. So light, no care for Phil's bewildered tone as he stuffed the tools he used to treat Phil back to wherever it belongs.

"And you're not going to hurt me?" Phil asked. No way. He's a fucking giant.

"That just sounds abyssmal— I've just healed you" Techno said, his tone still light as he rummages around his furnitures, looking for something.

"So then.. what are you going to do?" Phil asked, staring at Techno as he stacked several cloths together (what the fuck is he doing..?)

"Sleep, probably— I was actually going to trade new seeds since new season is coming up, but then you happened sooo" Techno trailed off, concentrating. "Done. Here— you can sleep here" Techno's figure moved away to reveal what Phil assumed was a bed— It's actually just several cloths stacked together— but it's nice.

"You made a bed for me?" Phil asked, looking at the bed Techno just made

"Yeah— do you need help getting here?" Techno gestures towards Phil's stature— small and has a broken wing

Phil looked at where Techno is gesturing. "..yeah"

"Should— Should I just.. pick you up at the back of your clothes or...?" Techno asked. He was expecting Phil to elaborate on how to pick a tiny up without being rude— but Phil's lack of elaboration speaks volume.

It ended up with Phil asking for Techno to give him his hand for platforming— Which after Techno quickly replied with a "sure", Phil became very anxious about standing on a giant's hand— Fortunately, Techno didn't try to hurt him or anything (Maybe it's Phil who scratched him— Bird claws as feet and all) and Phil reached the bed.

It's a fairly-nice bed, In Phil's opinion. Because it is practically just a ton of cloths stacked together, it became a very comfy bed. So when Phil rested his body on it, his exhaustion and thought caught up to him.

It's a first time for Phil. Being inside a giant's house, and.. being this near a giant. He's restless— he can't fucking sleep— he shouldn't sleep. The possibility of the giant hurting him, the possibility of another giant barging into this house and catching Phil... He's scared.

"Shhh, just sleep, you're safe" a sudden voice from Techno startled him. Was Techno there the whole time? More than that, did Techno realized Phil's worry? "I'm not going to hurt you— Like I said. You're going to be okay," Techno said, taking a seat beside the cabinet Phil's bed is placed.

What is it? Maybe it's because Techno sounds so.. reassuring, but Phil's heart solidified at Techno's word.

"No one is going to hurt you again" was the last thing Phil heard from Techno before Phil falling asleep.

Maybe it's trust that made Phil believe in Techno.

———

The dialogue prompts are from here, send in some prompts! :D

Masterlist (If you're interested in my writings! :D)

[writingtoforgetreality]

You’re A Winchester? (Castiel x Winchester!Reader)

Request: You are so sweet, is a little sister Winchester reader good? Like in her late 20s that is their sister from another world/dimension, but they don't have a sister in their world? And she is just trying to fit into their family but she is a good hunter? It can be with Cas Meg or both, whatever you are inspired to do :) (by @sourpatchspinster), [Supernatural-Masterlist]

Part Two

Summary: You woke up in the middle of nowhere. How the hell did you get here? The last thing you remembered was being in a motel room & all of a sudden, you found yourself lost with the worst headache ever. Who would have thought your life was about to be changed forever?

Words: 5,270

Warnings: takes place in season 15 bc I want “everyone” to be alive & happy, language (do I still have to mention this?), mentions of our dear friend Chuck, angst?, innocent reader (I don’t know what happened to me during my writing break tbh), not my fav piece but I loved the request so there you go, fluff, (possible second part?), (Y/E/C) = your eye color

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Black. That was all you could see. Your head was killing you, it felt like someone tried to crush it with their bare hands. It took you a lot of strength but after a few attempts, you managed to open your eyes & were met with a blue sky. Huh…Did you fall asleep outside? No. WAIT?! Were you captured? No, you were just lying on the grass. Slowly, you got into a sitting position, looking around to figure out where in the hell you were. Unfortunately, your surroundings were unfamiliar. Taking deep breaths, you tried thinking logical for a second. The last thing you remembered was you sitting in a motel room, turning pages in an old diary your family left behind.

You had never met any of your family, growing up in a children’s home because…well, you had no idea if you were completely honest. Throughout the years, you had been to multiple foster families but in the end, you always ended up back at the children’s home. Not that you cared too much. It was not like you ever felt like you belonged with them anyway. On your 18th birthday, Sally, one of the employees, came into your room with a small package in her hand. That was the first time you had ever received a gift.

“It says I should give it to you today.” she handed you the small wrapped gift with a genuine smile on her face.

“What is it?” your curiosity got the best of you.

“Open up & see, I guess. I have no idea.” & with that she left you alone once again.

The day you got the diary was when you left the children’s home for good. You could not believe what you had read. Apparently, you did have a family. Or so it seemed. But why the hell had you never met them? And why the hell did it seem like your family suffered from psychological problems? Schizophrenia? To be honest, you did not care about that. The only thing that mattered to you was that it seemed like you had a father & two brothers out there somewhere. It looked like your mother had died a while ago…

~back to your confused ass self~

Being alone out in the middle of nowhere was not particularly comforting. What scared you even more was that you did not even have your stuff with you. Where was your diary? Your phone did not matter to you that much, neither did your clothes. It was not like you owned much to begin with. But that diary? That meant the world to you. Even after years of unsuccessful searching for your family, you never gave up. Because deep down, you knew you would come across them eventually.

Coming to a standing position, you dusted off the dirt that was on your clothes. A black car in the distance caught your attention. What was a car doing out here in the middle of nowhere? Maybe your kidnappers were driving it & brought you here? That thought let your heart race. Yet, you found yourself moving closer to the car. The closer you got, the more you could make out. Was that a ’67 Impala? Out here? And it looked like it was in great condition? If you had enough money you would buy a similar car & you sure would treat it the same way that the Impala’s owner did.

You risked a look inside the Impala, finding it relatively empty, but before you could spend much longer admiring it, you saw something silver in the corner of your eye. Was that a…door? Okay, yeah, you were definitely kidnapped. But not by professionals, that was for sure. Not the right time to joke? Okay, okay, right. Upon closer inspection, you noted that it was most likely a door to a bunker. Why you did not run right away, you were not sure. Something about this place felt like…home. Huh, weird. How could you be so anxious yet so at peace all at once? Only one way to find out. Oh boy, you would so regret this later.

Before you could think too much, your hand was moving towards the door, ready to push. Surprisingly, it was not locked. You had to push your entire weight against the door to keep it moving since it was so damn heavy. By now, your legs were moving on their own & all of a sudden you were standing inside a…bunker? There was not much to make out because your eyes had to adjust to the dark inside at first.

It sounded like footsteps were approaching fast but because of the echo in the bunker you could not quite tell where they were coming from. There was one thing you did notice, though, & it was the fact that there was more than one person coming your way. Fuck.

“HANDS IN THE AIR!” the click of a gun was followed after the loud voice. Obeying, you put your hands up even though you were sure nobody could see what you were doing anyway. It was still dark after all. Right this instance, light illuminated the room & you were stunned by how big the bunker was. Eyes wide, you looked around, only to find you were upstairs & the voice you heard was coming from beneath you. Gazing around, your eyes fell on two broad looking men, both of them pointing a gun at you. Fucking great. You should have run.

“DOWN. NOW.” the shorter one of the two yelled once again. Not wanting to mess with them, your legs moved towards the stairs & slowly you got down, not once letting your eyes move away from the man with the shorter hair. He seemed like the bigger threat. While the taller man looked scary as hell too, he held something behind his eyes that eased you a tiny bit more.

“Who are you & what are you doing here?” this time it was the taller man who spoke up & you had to take back your previous thought. He was scary as shit, especially with his voice sounding like he was up to no good.

“Um, I-I swear, I don’t know. I-“ but your attempts were cut short.

“Cut the bullshit right there. Did Chuck send you?”

“Chuck?” your eyebrows raised up, showing your genuine confusion.

“Dean, I don’t think she’s with Chuck.” the one with the longer hair mumbled. Dean? Huh. The name made you think of your lost diary again. You hoped you would find it eventually.

“Sit down & start talking.” he was not to be messed with so you followed both men further into the bunker until you reached a huge table. Choosing one of many chairs, you sat down but still eyed the guns that were no longer pointed at you but still very much a threat. The men each took a seat opposite of you, putting the guns on the table in front of them. At least they were not holding them anymore. You noticed you held your breath & again, started taking slower ones to calm yourself.

“I’m Sam & this is my brother Dean. We won’t hurt you, just…who are you?” what a coincidence. Brothers Sam & Dean. Were you dreaming? Of course, why did you not think of this sooner? It would make sense.

“My name’s (Y/N).” your voice was barely above a whisper & your eyes shot down to your lap, suddenly feeling small.

“(Y/N), okay. Well, (Y/N), um, why are you here?” Sam’s voice was a lot softer than at the beginning. Dean had not said anything else, he simply looked at you sternly, still thinking you were a threat. You did not even have weapons on you. Hell, you did not even know how to fight in the first place. But clearly they did not know that. Fuck it, if you were about to die then you could actually tell the truth, right? What did it matter? Your voice was quiet but loud enough so the boys could hear you.

“One moment I was reading through a dia- book & the next I wake up in the middle of nowhere with the worst headache ever. I saw the Impale parked outside & then found the door. I don’t know where I am, I don’t even know why I thought opening this damn door would be a good idea.” a slight chuckle was all you could muster right now. Hopefully they would believe you. When neither of them said anything for a few moments, you looked up & saw them eyeing each other, having a silent conversation.

“What book were you reading?” this time it was Dean but his voice was a lot kinder now. The boys knew you were not a supernatural being, the bunker was safe when it came to that & you would have not been able to enter otherwise. Yet, you were confused by his question? That was really all he cared about? Not the fact that you had no clue where you were or how you got here? Not wanting to anger him, you answered, looking him straight into the eyes.

“My dad’s diary. Nothing special, why?” a noise coming from the entrance made you look towards the door. There sure were quite a lot of people for being in the middle of nowhere. Your conversation was cut short when a voice spoke up.

“Sam! Dean! I salted & burned the bones! Case done! Well, Castiel helped me but he said he was proud of my work.” how could someone sound so excited about…burning bones? What the fuck?

“Jack did a good job today.” the other person spoke up. He was wearing a trench coat & his voice was deep, deeper than the others. Obviously, they had not noticed you yet but a look at Sam showed you how uncomfortable he was. At this point, you were more than confused. Salting & burning bones? Why did this sound familiar though? Shit. No way. Your dad’s diary was filled with salting & burning stuff. What was happening to you?

“Uh, guys…” Sam got up & approached the two men who were called Jack & Castiel. Somehow, your gaze fixed on the man in the trench coat. He looked good. Again, wrong timing, (Y/N). Get it together! Jack & Castiel saw you & their faces turned into confusion.

“Who’s that?” Jack asked, his voice did not scare you, he sounded sweet. He seemed like a kind person.

“Jack, Cas, this is (Y/N). She showed up in the bunker out of nowhere.” Dean eyed you once more before getting up himself. Frustration could be felt & you hated that you were the one causing it. Never was it your intention to cause trouble in their lives but it looked like you just did by opening that damn door.

“Could you all maybe sit down? It makes me nervous when you’re all pacing like that.” you were surprised by your own voice. Usually you were never one to intervene, especially not in a situation like this. But you were exhausted & all you wanted was just to get back to your motel & these were the only people who could help your right now. All eyes shot to you & to your surprise, they began walking towards the table. Sam & Dean, taking the seats opposite of you. Castiel sat down right next to you & you hated how your heart skipped a beat by this simple action. You did not even know this man, he could be a killer. Jack took the chair next to Castiel & Sam made it his job to explain your situation briefly. All you could do was listen, your hands fiddling in your lap, still somewhat anxious to be here.

“Cas? Isn’t there a way you could…I don’t know, check her memories?” Dean added right after Sam finished explaining. Your confused face shifted between the two men, not understanding a single word. How could a stranger help you with your memories?

“I could try. But I need your permission to do that.” while saying the last part, his eyes looked straight into your (Y/E/C) ones. Damn, his eyes. His head tilted slightly & it was only then when you registered that he had asked you a question & you simply stared at him.

“Um, permission for what?”

“To take a look at your memories & see what you remember. We could help you after that.” his voice was so casual, as if he had done this multiple times. To you, though, it sounded like he was crazy.

“Right. And you can do that because…?”

“Because I’m an angel of the Lord.” Castiel stated. A what of the what now? A short laugh escaped you. Not because you laughed at him but because you were shocked & confused.

“Cas…” Sam mumbled & put his head in his hands. That was something he had wanted to keep from you. He had a feeling you had no idea about the supernatural & he wanted to keep it like that.

“You can trust him, (Y/N).” Dean chimed in.

“Will it hurt?” not that you were scared of the pain, your pain tolerance was pretty high but on the other hand, he had just told you he was an angel.

“Only a little.” Cas gave you a reassuring smile & that was when you decided you would let him do it. Because, frankly, you did trust him. Even though he might have some sort of mental illness.

Sam, Dean & Jack left the room to give Castiel some time to prepare & to give you time to calm down. He could tell by the way your leg was bouncing that you were highly uncomfortable but he was not sure how to help. His idea was to get it done quickly & then to bring you back where you came from. Hopefully, you would not ask too many questions. He already gave too much away by saying he was an angel. Replaying your face when he had said it eased him a bit. You did not look convinced at all which was probably for the best.

“Try to breathe more evenly, it’ll help.” you could tell he was trying to make this easier for you but you just wanted to get it done.

“I’m ready, let’s do this, please.” the plea at the end was almost inaudible but Castiel could hear it anyway.

Your eyes closed as you saw Castiel approaching. His fingers touched your temples gently but the next thing you felt was a short but piercing pain shooting through your entire body. It only lasted a few seconds & the only words you could make out before you fell unconscious were “You’re a Winchester?”.

“What do you mean she’s a Winchester?” Dean asked with shock written all over his features.

“She’s related to us?” it was Sam, he took the information way better than his older brother.

“Your sister, to be exact.” Castiel paused briefly, waiting if one of the boys wanted to add anything. He took their silence as a sign of continuing. “Her father’s diary, the one she was reading before she got here, it was John’s.”

“Wait, wait, wait…WE have his diary. There’s no way she has it. Besides, we would know if we had a sister.” Dean gestured with his hands to get his point across. He had never seen you, you could not have stolen the book from them.

“You’re right. But in her world, she was the one owning it. In her world, you guys are her brothers.”

“In her world? What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam decided to join the conversation, now wanting answers himself.

“She’s from an alternate universe. I expect she was reading through a spell or something similar & somehow she got sucked into our reality. From what I’ve seen in her head, the portal closed itself behind her so if she has no idea how she opened it & got here…well, it could be hard to bring her back. Besides, I’m not so sure she wants to go back there…” Castiel’s voice got quieter at the end of his sentence.

“Why not?” Dean imagined himself in your situation & he would do anything to get back.

“It’s not really my place to tell, I believe.” & before Dean could argue any further, Jack came running into the room.

“(Y/N)’s awake.” to that everyone followed behind him to one of the many bedrooms the bunker had to offer.

You were tired but the pain had completely disappeared. No matter how hard you tried, you still could not remember how exactly you got here. The door creaked & you looked up to find Sam, Dean, Castiel & Jack entering the room. You were no longer scared. Probably because you were way too exhausted to care.

“So?” you spoke up after a few seconds of silence. Castiel stepped forward & took a seat at the end of the bed you were lying in. His ocean blue eyes looked you over, making sure you no longer were in any pain. You nodded at him to show you were fine & with that Castiel told you what he had seen. It was a lot to take in but your tired state simply made you nod at everything he explained.

“The thing is…We don’t know how to get you back.” Sam approached you slowly, took a seat in a chair next to your bed.

“Cas?” ignoring Sam’s statement, you only had one question on your mind. Back in your world, you had spent years looking for your family. For your brothers. The ones being in the same room with you right now. Also, when did you start calling Castiel by his nickname? When did that happen? His humming gave you enough confidence to continue.

“Are they alive back home?” you did not have to mention names for Castiel to know who you were referring to. His face turned into one of sadness & you knew the answer without him saying anything.

“I don’t wanna go back.” every ounce of uncertainty was gone, you knew it was fate that you were here with all of them now. The four men shared a look, having a silent conversation again. Dean nodded but left the room a second later.

“Don’t mind him, he just needs time to process.” Sam’s sympathetic smile relaxed you a bit. The bunker was nice, so was the fact that you practically met your brothers but you were not planning on staying with them. Dean’s reaction showed you why. They had lived their lives without knowing they had a sister. You, on the other hand, had known about your brothers for years & yet you did not feel the satisfaction you had so desperately hoped for after finally finding them.

“It’s fine, I’ll get going soon.” with that, you sat up straight & tried standing up. A wave of dizziness kept you from doing so. Castiel was at your side in an instant & guided you back down.

“You need to rest.” he told you.

“You’re not staying?” Jack’s voice erupted from the door. You had almost forgotten he was there too. Your eyes focused on him briefly before you looked back down again, a blush slowly making its way up  on your cheeks.

“It’s for the better. I’ll be fine.”

“(Y/N). You’re our sister. Doesn’t matter if you’re from here or from another world. You’re family. We just found each other, we won’t let you leave again.” Sam’s words made you tear up. He did not know you, yet he told you that you were family & he wanted you to stay. For the first time, you felt like you belonged somewhere & you were overthrown with emotions. Since Castiel was closest to you, he sat himself next to you, threw an arm over your shoulder & pulled you into his chest. Usually, you hated crying in front of people but right now you could not care less. Besides, being in Castiel’s embrace felt right. What was it about him? Neither of them left the room, all staying with you for as long as you needed. When you could not feel more tears flowing down your cheeks, you slowly removed yourself from Castiel, immediately missing the warmth of his body. If you were about to stay here, he would be trouble, you could feel it already. Sam, Castiel & Jack then left the room, telling you to get some more rest & to scream for one of them if you needed anything. Details could be discussed another time.

They were right, you needed sleep. Time to sort your thoughts. Maybe that was the reason why you entered the bunker in the first place. Why you were not concerned about them brutally killing you. After waking up, you were more comfortable with the idea of sticking around with the boys. Sam told you Dean would come around eventually & you just hoped he was right. Getting up, you paddled to the door, quietly opening it since you did not know how late it was. There was a long hallway that looked exactly the same, no matter what direction you were looking at. Distant voices could be heard so you followed them & prayed you would not get lost in that labyrinth of a bunker. You had to ask your brothers a question. Your brothers. It felt weird to call them that but they were, right? Back home, you had read through your dad’s diary about a thousand times. You were familiar with what he wrote about. He called himself a hunter. Sadly, you were not about to meet him. Castiel had told you that he had died a long time ago. Sam & Dean were the only family you had left.

“Um, hi.” you made yourself present & Dean turned around to meet your eyes. He looked a lot less tense, thank God.

“Slept well?” at least he was attempting to start a conversation with you. Nodding your head, you walked over to where Jack was sitting. Dean spoke up again.

“Hey, sorry for how I acted earlier. It was just a lot at once. I do want you to stay. We do.” he emphasized his words. This made you smile. At first you were not sure about how Dean would react but this showed you that he was trying & that was enough. Telling him it was fine, you sat down next to Jack & looked over at what he was reading. The book was old but the condition it was in was surprisingly well. A cup was placed in front of you by Dean & you thanked him. He brought you coffee.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Where is Sam? I wanna ask you guys something.” feeling silly with how you put it, way more dramatic than it actually was.

“Right here.” Sam entered the room, walked past Dean & straight to you. A pat to your shoulder eased the tension a little.

“What is it?” Dean seated himself on top of the table.

“Okay, so…I just want you guys to be honest with me, okay?” both men nodded, Jack was lost in his book, he did not even hear you conversation. You continued.

“Monsters are real & you hunt them?” their eyes widened at your question but deep down they expected something like that. The diary you owned was filled with the supernatural.

“Yeah, we do. It’s kinda the family business.” Dean chuckled at the end. You were family but clearly you had never hunted any monster before.

“Okay.” was all you answered.

“Okay? That’s it? You’re not running outta the door?” Sam could not believe you. He expected you to freak out. On the other hand...you were a Winchester.

“I don’t know about you, Sam, but I let an angel of the Lord look into my head. Monsters don’t sound too crazy after this.” all of you laughed out. “So, you guys hunt the supernatural. Castiel is an angel? And Jack? What is he? Your trainee?” the mention of his name made Jack look at you & before the boys could answer your question, Jack decided to take matter into his own hands.

“I’m a nephilim. The offspring of a human & an angel. Lucifer is my father but not really, you know. My mother died when I was born but I have Sam, Dean & Cas. They are my family.” his smile was too pure for this world but the way he so casually talked about the fact that he was Lucifer’s son had you stunned.

“Sure.” was all you could manage at that point. Jack’s smile grew wider & he got back to reading.

“Welcome to our world? I guess?” Sam’s smile was faked but if you were honest, you could imagine yourself being thrown into this mess. Nothing you could not handle.

~a few months later~

“Guys? Have you seen Cas?” you came running into the kitchen where Sam & Dean were having breakfast.

“What? You boyfriend ditched you?” Dean teased & earned a slap from Sam. You simply rolled your eyes at him. Your brothers realized very soon after coming to them that you had a big crush on Cas & Dean loved to mess with you.

“Shut up, asshole. We’re about to leave for the case in Wisconsin but he’s not here.”

“I haven’t heard from him but come on, sit down & have breakfast with us.” Sam offered. You walked over to the boys & sat down next to Dean who handed you a cup of coffee right away. Your smile was a thank you enough.

“Seriously, though. When will you tell him?” Dean munched on his food, not even looking at you but you knew the question was directed at you.

“That we’re leaving for the case? He knows that, Dean.”

“That you like him.” scoffing could be heard. Sam enjoyed your banter in silence. That was one indicator that you were a their sister. After warming up to them, they found out you were actually a lot like Dean. This made you guys argue more often, never too severe, mainly siblings teasing each other.

“Right, & then we’ll have that apple pie life. Is that what you want? Dean, he doesn’t like me like that.”

“Yeah, he does. Poor dude is a mess whenever he talks to you.” again, you simply rolled your eyes at him. Yes, Cas could be awkward when you guys talked but then again, this was Cas.

“(Y/N)?” Cas came into the kitchen where he could hear voices. Immediately your head snapped up & a smile started forming. An action that did not go unnoticed by both, Sam & Dean. Neither mentioned it though.

“There you are, I got worried for a second.” you got up & pulled Cas into a hug. That was nothing special. The two of you hugged each other all the time. Another thing that Dean commented on a lot of the time. Apparently, Cas had never been much of a hugger before you had come around. You simply shrugged it off even though, deep down, your heart skipped a beat at the idea of you being the reason for his change.

“Jack needed to talk to me, I’m sorry.”

“No problem, are you ready?”

“Yes, we should get going anyway.”

“Alright, bye boys.” whenever one of you got ready for a hunt, you made sure to say goodbye properly. You never knew. The last few months, your brothers had helped you with the basics of hunting. If they were honest, it felt like you were born to be a hunter. You picked up the skills quickly & learned a lot about the supernatural in a very short time. Cas told you that it probably was because you were always meant to be here. After a while, you started believing him. At first, Sam & Dean told you you were not allowed to come on a hunt with them but after realizing that you were good at what you did, you became an inherent part of the team which you were grateful for. Now, they even let you leave with Cas, a big step forward.

“Your bag’s already in the trunk.” Cas pointed at the back of the car.

“Thanks, Cas.” you lovingly smiled at him. Yeah, you were totally into him. Cas stopped briefly & got closer to you. Yet, he made sure to keep a little bit of distance between the two of you.

“Why don’t you tell me?” he whispered & you felt like you could not breathe for a second. Had he heard your conversation with Dean earlier?

“W-What?” you hated how weak & nervous your voice sounded. Why could you not play it cool? Why did you have to make a fool out of yourself? Before you could even process what was happening, Cas slowly leaned in & pressed his lips to yours softly. You were too shocked to kiss him back, not knowing if it was really happening right now. Cas pulled back & he looked rather uncomfortable. Your face was still full of shock.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done this. Just…Dean told me you liked me & then I heard your conversation & I thought you might-“ you cut his rambling off by pulling him close again. This time you kissed him & he lost no time in kissing you back. You let yourself get lost in the moment. You had dreamed about this particular moment for months & the fact that it was happening right now? Your body was on fire. When the both of you pulled apart for air, you could see Cas’ smile & you were sure your were blushing like crazy.

“So, Dean was right?” Cas’ hands settled on your waist & it felt natural. As if you had done it a thousand times.

“Remind me to kill him after this case.” you laughed & pulled Cas into a hug. He tightened his arms around you. Who would have thought, all those months ago, that you would end up with an actual family?

“Wasn’t he our…how do you call it? Wingman?” Cas chuckled after planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. He released you from the hug & you moved over to the passenger side. Your elbows were propped up on the hood & a smirk started forming at the corner of your mouth.

“Still. I told him to keep it to himself & he is my brother. I think I have permission to kill him for this.” of course you were joking & if you had to be honest, you were kind of glad that Dean could not keep his mouth shut. Cas walked over to the car, shaking his head at you but you could still see a small smile, opened the door & got in. You smiled to yourself. Finally, you knew that Cas did like you too. Where you were going from there? You were not sure yet. But there was a case you had to finish & it would take a few days to get it done. That would be enough time to figure out what you two were but you had a good feeling about this. It felt right & you had a home with people you loved & cared for. You were meant to be here from the start.

~to be continued?~ (let me know)

Part Two

Published (03/18/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @teelagurl558, @babymango-writes, @hollymac79 (thanks for your support <3)

[dragonsareourfuture]

Death Note/GN!Reader — Pick Up Lines

A quick little scenario in which your Death Note sweetheart uses a terrible pick up line on you! I feel as though these all kinda suck since I write this a while ago but it’s fine. It’s fine.

Mello

Staying up late every night and watching security footage was not fairing well for Mello. Dark circles started to form underneath his eyes, and you pointed out that he was turning into L, all he needed was black hair and a haircut. He simply responded “The day I cut my hair short is the day the world ends.”

Usually when Mello got tired he would turn into a grumpy, adorable gremlin but, mixed with the excessive amount of chocolate he consumed due to boredom, he had turned loopy. Matt had relied on his headphones to keep him sane, whereas you were left with no escape from the babbling blond.

Mello rambled on and on about how he was going to beat Near with every fiber of his being, slowly getting sidetracked into a conversation about sheep.

“They’re so fucking fluffy. Standing around, eating grass, taunting me.” The blond mumbled, his head resting on your lap as you stroked his hair, listening with genuine interest.

“Mhmm, how do they taunt you?” you inquired, wanting to know more before your boyfriend fell asleep and you never got to find out why he felt so threatened by white, fluffy animals.

“They just...do  .”

“Well, I’ll always keep you safe from the mean, mean sheep.”

Mello shifted so that he was gazing up at you. He lifted his hand to your face and gently smacked your cheek with his palm, rubbing his tired eyes with the other hand.

“Aw, babe you’re so sweet when you talk like that... You make me melt like chocolate in the summer~ ”

“I do what?”

Before Mello could answer, unconsciousness grasped him and pulled him down into the dimension of sleep. You sighed, disappointed that you wouldn’t get to hear more, yet also relieved that Mello could finally get the sleep that he needed.

“G’night, Mels,” You whispered, brushing his bangs to the side and kissing his forehead, “You make me melt, too.”

Matt

Matt’s been acting strangely clingy all day. As soon as you noticed this fact, you immediately figured that it was an anniversary or either one of your birthdays and it had slipped your mind. However, upon further inspection of your phone calendar, today appeared to be nothing special.

You were seated on the couch, watching a bit of television while Matt washed the dishes. You had insisted that you could handle that task yourself, but the goggle-wearing sweetheart had insisted that you relax.

Suddenly you heard the sink turn off and footsteps lead up to the couch. You turned around to see the redhead wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind.

“Hey, I lost my phone number...can I have yours? ” He asked with a sly smile.

“Matt, you have my number. Is that a pickup line? You know we’re already dating, right? Is my number not working?” You interrogated, grabbing his phone from the coffee table and calling your cell from it to ensure that your phone number still worked.

“No- it’s... you’re supposed to go along with it!”

“Well, come up with a better one next time, dumb ass,” You tossed Matt’s phone back at him, the device landing in his lap. He pouted and shoved it into his jacket pocket, getting up to return to the kitchen.

“You’re no fun.”

L

The room grew dim and increasingly empty as the hours ran further into the day, eventually turning to night. Despite the signs that you should be on your way home, you stayed with the only detective who thought it appropriate to work into the ungodly hours of the night.

You glanced over at L, back turned to you with his nose practically pressed against the computer screen. You rolled your eyes and switched on the main light of the room, saying, “You’re gonna ruin your eyes reading in the dark like that.”

L did not respond but, at the looks of it, kept on reading the minuscule words on his screen with intent.

“Do you need anything? Water? Maybe some cake?” You asked, giggling at the end of your words for no other reason than the tiredness getting to your brain.

“No, thank you.  I already have you, and you’re sweeter than cake, anyway,” L droned matter of factly, not even tearing his eyes away from the luminescent screen.

“Awww! Oh my god, L!” You squealed, running up to L and enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug.

“Ah...(name), I c-can’t breathe...”

Near

You could practically hear the blood flow to your brain as you spun around in a desk chair at painful hours of the night. The screens that filled the SPK headquarters shone in your eyes, keeping you awake along with the unhealthy amounts of caffeine you had consumed.

Your white haired boyfriend sat crouched on the floor by your feet. The clicking of building blocks rang throughout the otherwise empty room as he stacked them on top of one another, paying no mind to anything else.

You sighed, placing your chin on the palm of your hand and deflating on the spot. No amount of caffeine could keep you here as late as Near always stayed, no matter how much you wanted it to. You hated that he was here alone all the time and, even though he always tried to convince you that he didn’t care, you knew it took a toll on his mental state.

You shifted in your chair, about to heave your body up when Near’s monotonous voice kept you still.

“(Name).”

You waited for him to continue, and spoke up when he stayed silent, “What’s up, babe?”

“Do you like LEGO ?” Near inquired. His eyes finally met yours as he twirled a LEGO piece in between his fingers.

“Uh, I guess—“

“Because I want to build a world with you... ”

You froze, wondering if the caffeine was getting to your head or if Near had actually used a pickup line on you — and a goddamn adorable one at that.

A weak smile tugged at your lips. You slid off the office chair and dropped to your knees on the cold tile beside Near, throwing your arms around the boy without another word.

Though he stiffened at first, Near melted under your embrace. He buried his face into your shoulder and wrapped his noodle arms around your torso. You stayed like this for either a minute, or an hour. It was so quiet that you could hear your hearts beating in sync. Everything was so perfect, so loving, so-

“ARE YOU GUYS STILL HERE!?”

Your heart nearly burst from your chest at the sound of a door banging against metal and the rough tone of Rester calling out to you.

Near grumbled and shoved his face into your neck, trying and failing to escape the booming echo of footsteps that approached your little heap on the floor.

“Yeah,” your voice came out ragged and small, but enough for Rester to hear and follow, “right here.”

“You both look exhausted! Come on, let’s get you to sleep.”

When Near barely moved a muscle, you took it upon yourself to pick up his limp body from the floor bridal style and carry him to bed. Though you almost dropped the poor boy more than once, you’d say you did a fairly good job. And, once you were both snuggled up in bed, you got a good nights rest of a solid three hours of sleep. It was the most Near’s gotten in weeks, so you were not complaining.

Light

Though you were already in a relationship with Light, the cheesy lines and swooning from him never ceased. You wouldn’t have to fend him off with a stick but he loved to be all over you even when he already won you over, and you loved that about him.

This was mainly exhibited when you two were alone together, him finding public displays of affection to be childish and overall unnecessary as everyone you hung around with at school respected your relationship quite nicely.

The two of you were strolling on the sidewalk after a headache inducing day of school. His arm was resting lazily over your neck as you walked while all attention was focused on you and you alone. You ranted about the difficulties of the day and, although they were mostly all minor inconveniences, they really got under your skin once all added up.

When you had finished, you huffed and rubbed at your temple.

Breaking the silence that followed, Light blurted,  “How would you like to be the goddess of the new world?  You wouldn’t have to deal with that crap anymore.”

You laughed, reaching up to lace your fingers with the hand that dangled by your shoulder. “Dude, I barely know what taxes are. I don’t think I can handle being a goddess.”

“Aw, that’s a shame,” Light pouted jokingly.

The two of you came to a stop in front of his house, him pulling you flush against him and just staring wistfully (up/down) at you. “Do you want to come in? I’m sure Sayu will be delighted to see you.”

“Oh, I’d love to but I don’t want to intrude—“

“Nonsense. Come on.”

And so, Light guided you into his home, his mother and Sayu cheerfully greeting you at the door and whisking you away into a night of wonderful conversation and a lovely dinner.

Matsuda

You took advantage of the daylight, working nonstop so that you wouldn’t have to stay after hours to get your unfinished work done.

Through your tireless efforts, you failed to notice a pair of familiar eyes glancing back at you every so often. You only noticed a change in your boyfriend’s behavior when he came rolling up to your desk in his wheely chair, resting his chin on his elbows and looking at you expectantly.

“Hey, what’s up, Teddy Bear?” You greeted, barely tearing your eyes from the papers splayed out all across your desk.

Matsuda grinned from ear to ear every time he heard that nickname. It made him feel wanted and loved whenever he was around you. Sometimes, this caused the filter between his brain and his mouth to thin, allowing whatever he’s thinking in that moment to slip out.

“Do you have a map? Because I’m getting lost in your eyes... ” he said dreamily.

Your head shot up in an instant, puzzled by the seemingly random affection, only to see Matsuda covering his lips as a dark blush began to rise on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Th-that’s not...I-“

“Honey...” you shook your head and sighed, placing your pen down flat on the desk, “That is the literal worst line ever but it sounds wonderful coming from you.”

“O-oh. Thanks?” He chuckled nervously, massaging the back of his neck as his skin became slick with sweat.

You leaned over the desk and pecked his lips before collecting your paperwork in a neat stack, placing it all carefully in your shoulder bag, careful not to bend any corners. “Why don’t I finish my work in that nice little coffee shop across the street. Join me?”

“Y-yes! I’d love to. It’s getting a little stuffy in here, anyway.”

Misa

“Ughhhhh I’m so tired! What a day!” Misa exclaimed, stretching out her arms above her head as she walked over to her folding chair. The white, feathery wings fastened to her back smacked people and equipment as she passed them, but you saw her as nothing but elegant.

Your girlfriend plopped her butt down into the fragile chair, giving Matsuda a scare when it nearly toppled over. With beads of sweat trickling down his forehead, he handed the girl her coffee.

“Aw, thanks, Matsu! And you too, (Name)! I wouldn’t be able to do any of my scenes without you guys cheering me on!”

You chuckled, cheeks turning a dusted shade of pink at Misa’s praise. “Dont give us all the credit, babe. You’re the one giving your all up there.”

Misa twisted in her chair to grab at your hand and intertwine her fingers with yours. “You’re too sweet, honey! Y’know, if it were up to me, you’d be the one wearing these wings!”

“Oh, I don’t know, I couldn’t take your place!” You said, gesturing to the fountain where Misa’s scene had just been filmed.

The blonde giggled and brought your fingers to her lips, giving them a couple kisses before shaking her head. “I meant I’d have you in these wings because you’re an absolute Angel , silly!”

Before you could even begin to respond, Matsuda beat you to it. “Aww my gosh, you guys! Could I be the best man at your wedding?”

“Hmm...” you pretended to ponder while tapping your chin with your index finger. “How do you feel about being the flower boy?”

“Done!”