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kiss-me-cill-me · 3 months

Text

Gravity Wins

Pairing: Robert Capa x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: The walls around here are too thin, and Capa can't seem to mind his own business.

Warnings: Smut, changes to several minor aspects of canon, alcohol/drinking (not related to the smut), mentions of vibrators, sexual frustration, masturbation (f), slight voyeurism, teasing, biting, quiet sex, and my obvious fixation on Capa's arms

A/N: In the words of Jayne Cobb... I'll be in my bunk. This was the winner of my "Bad Summary WIPs" poll. I had originally intended for "Gravity Wins" to be a working title that I would change later, but uh, it did win, so I'm keeping it lol. Happy Capa Month! 🥰

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Life aboard Icarus II had its charms. The views were unlike anything else; the oxygen garden was truly breathtaking; and the ship itself was pleasantly quaint, in a close-knit kind of way. Most of the time, at least. Sometimes, that same pleasant quaintness had a habit of dissolving into claustrophobia; the tight quarters and lack of privacy suddenly surrounding you on all sides.

That’s why it was important to find small moments of joy where you could, to pass the time. And that’s why you were currently in the canteen, with Cassie and Corazon squeezed in on either side of you, passing around a bottle of contraband vodka.

It was cheap stuff; strawberry flavored. Not necessarily what you would have picked to drink, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and Cassie - god love her - had always had terrible taste in booze. Still, it got the job done. And getting to spend a night gossiping and getting a little tipsy every once in a while was just enough to break up the daily routine and keep the three of you from going mad.

Only three months into the mission, and your one bottle was already two-thirds empty. It was going to be a long flight.

“Y’know what I miss?” Cassie sighed, shoulders loose as she passed the bottle over to you. “Pizza.”

You took a swig - the cheap, artificial taste of fruit mixing terribly with the burn of alcohol - and passed the bottle on. Corazon slouched forward on the table.

“Don’t talk about food, Cassie. Please,” she whined.

It wasn’t as if you were starving, but the bare-bones, monotonous rotation of meals you all ate while onboard the ship left a lot to be desired. You could feel your mouth watering just at the thought of something besides the same old efficient, nutritionally-dense meals you’d been eating for weeks now.

“I miss ice cream,” you jumped in.

Corazon groaned and took a sip of the vodka, rubbing her head.

“Enough already,” she begged.

“Fine then, Cora - what do you miss?” asked Cassie, reaching across your little circle to take the bottle back. She tipped it against her lips, taking a quick sip.

“My vibrator,” answered the biologist.

You and Cassie burst into laughter; high-pitched giggles bouncing off the walls of the cramped space.

“I’m serious,” laughed Cora, nudging your shoulder.

“Oh, I believe you - I miss mine, too,” Cassie admitted.

You hummed in agreement. It was a long journey, and until you’d stepped foot on the ship, you really hadn’t anticipated all the small comforts of home you would miss. If getting off could be considered a comfort.

“Here’s the real question though,” said Cassie, pointing the bottle at each of you in turn. “Would you fuck any of the guys?”

“On the ship?” you asked.

“You see any other guys around?” Cassie laughed.

You joined her, feeling the hot flush of alcohol rise on your cheeks.

“What about Mace?” Cora offered.

“Too angry.” Cassie scrunched her nose.

“Sure, he’s hot-headed - but with guys, sometimes that means he’s a good fuck.”

Another round of laughter echoed after Corazon’s remark.

“Harvey?” you suggested, narrowing your eyes. Watching to see if either of the other women’s faces betrayed a genuine reaction.

“Kind of stuck-up,” Cora commented.

The group agreed, and lapsed into silence. The bottle made another round, and you felt yourself starting to tip past the point of a slight buzz.

“How ‘bout Capa?” Cassie asked.

“Maybe if he wasn’t such a dick,” Cora scoffed.

You snorted, then scrambled to control your expression.

“I think he’s kinda hot,” Cassie ventured.

A chorus of oooohs made their way around the table; Cassie waving them off.

“But I wouldn’t sleep with him,” she insisted. “Seems like the kind of guy to make himself come and then roll over.”

Corazon laughed sharply and then turned to face you.

“What about you, huh?” she asked, voice lowering. “Would you let Capa teach you all about physics and where he can stick ‘em?”

Before you had a chance to tease Cora about being so buzzed that she couldn’t even come up with a half-sensical sex joke about physics, the party was broken up by the arrival of a fourth person. Speak of the devil himself.

Capa glanced over at the three of you as he walked in, pausing to quietly open a cupboard and pull something out. Cora ignored him. Cassie took a swig of the vodka. And you quickly averted your eyes, looking down at your lap as your face burned.

“What are you all giggling about?” Capa droned.

“Nothing,” Cora snapped, a little harsher than was necessary.

Capa’s eyes narrowed, landing on the vodka. There was a moment of rigid silence.

“You know there’d be trouble if the captain found out about that,” he commented.

It wasn’t exactly a threat, but it wasn’t exactly a harmless observation either. Cassie stood up and slouched over to him, pressing the bottle against his chest. You were watching out of the corner of your eye, still too embarrassed to meet anyone’s gaze.

“But you wouldn’t tell on us - right, Capa?” Cassie asked sweetly.

She was a little too drunk for her own good, and you felt a quick bolt of tension in your stomach. Capa gave each of you a questioning look, impossible to tell what he was thinking as he backed off and walked out the way he’d come in.

“Just keep it down in here,” he muttered.

Once he was out of earshot, Cassie sat down, and the three of you shared a shy laugh of relief. Corazon instantly broke the tension.

“See? What’d I say? He’s a dick.”

The next morning, you woke up groggier than you should have. After Capa’s interruption, the vodka bottle was quickly put away, hidden in Cassie’s bunk for another night. You hadn’t really had too much to drink, but the minor shame of getting caught mixed with the shitty vodka was enough to make you feel thrown off.

You shuffled out of bed, slipping into a pair of sandals after pulling on your pants. You shrugged into a shirt and ran a tired hand over your face.

On your way to the bathroom, Harvey stopped you. You only had the energy to listen to about half of what he was saying, still feeling grumpy and with a sour taste in your mouth. He was talking to you about some report; asking why it hadn’t been submitted in triplicate. You clenched your jaw, really not having the patience to deal with him right now.

You promised Harvey you’d re-file your report, and walked away before he could rope you into any more conversation. Cora’s assessment of him was accurate, you thought. Stuck-up.

As you walked, your thoughts wandered back to how the night had ended. Or, more accurately, to what had happened just before you’d been interrupted by the very topic of your conversation. Capa. You had been about to open your mouth to answer Cora’s question about him… or, not answer. You had actually been planning to make a joke and shift the attention away from yourself, specifically so that you wouldn’t have to give a straight yes or no. Because, of course, you didn’t want either of the other girls to know-

“Hey, wait up!”

A voice behind you caused you to jump. You turned to see Cassie, already catching up behind you, oddly chipper considering that she’d been the one drinking more of the vodka than anybody last night.

“Hey, Cas.”

She fell into step beside you, easily keeping up with your sluggish pace. You tried to straighten up and match her energy, but it was hard to when all you wanted to do was crawl back in bed.

“Harvey just stopped me in the hallway,” Cassie told you. “Said something about getting you to file a report? I just wanted to warn you; he seemed pissed.”

Great - now Harvey was sending your friends after you.

“Yeah, we already talked about it,” you muttered.

“You okay?” Cassie asked. “You look miserable.”

You felt miserable. And not just because of last night. For the past few weeks, you’d felt off. Moody. Unfocused. You'd been trying to push through it, but you felt yourself losing ground, and you were frustrated.

It was partly to be expected - at least according to Searle, the ship’s de facto therapist, who you had talked to about your problems a few days ago. Space travel was taxing on the body, and sometimes doubly so on the mind. You felt cooped up, and getting mildly drunk with Cassie and Corazon only provided a temporary distraction.

“Cabin fever?” Cassie guessed.

“Something like that,” you agreed.

Cassie sighed. “Cora was right. We all really need to get laid.”

“Cassie!”

You hissed her name, spinning around to check that no one was behind you eavesdropping. The last thing you needed was a repeat of last night.

“Relax - I’m not saying I’ll fuck you, so don’t get all excited,” Cassie joked. “But she is right. It gets to you, after a while.”

It certainly did, and you could attest to that fact. Last night it had seemed almost funny; giggling with your friends over missing your vibrators. But the truth was, three long months into your journey, you were already starting to go stir crazy from a life of near-celibacy.

“Maybe you just need to blow off some steam.” Cassie prodded, not letting up.

“Cas, no offense, but can we not discuss my sex life until I've been awake for at least twenty minutes?”

“What sex life?” Cassie laughed, a little too loudly, and you hurried to shush her again. “I'll shut up,” she promised, continuing on, “but all I'm saying is you look like you could use it.”

With one more conspiratorial giggle, she left, walking ahead of you down the bright hallway. You groaned inwardly, knowing she was right but also that there was nothing you could do about it.

You went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on your face.

The day seemed to drag on worse than it ever had. You tried to remind yourself to be grateful; that you were lucky enough to have been selected as a member of the small crew in the first place, and that your mission was important to the fate of mankind. But it all felt so trivial when you couldn't focus on anything other than the building feeling of dissatisfaction that ached between your legs.

Talking about Capa last night really hadn't helped things. He was all you could think about as you tried in vain to get your work done. Twice, you caught yourself making mistakes in your calculations as your mind started to drift elsewhere.

What gave him the right to walk around in those tank tops, showing off his perfect arms and chiseled shoulders - that's what you wanted to know. And why did he even have such sexy arms to begin with? He was a physicist, for god's sake. He sat in his lab all day doing nothing that should have given him such infuriatingly noticeable forearm definition.

Capa had a habit of putting his hands on his hips or in his pockets while he talked, and of running his fingers over his lips when he was thinking. Somehow, everything he did seemed to make a couple of thin veins poke just below his skin, as if to tease you into thinking what he'd look like holding you up against a wall. These were all little things you had noticed - found it impossible not to, actually - and they drove you crazy. Being cooped up was one thing, but being cooped up with Robert Capa was a whole other problem.

Cora was right, though. He was unapproachable at best and actively self-isolating at worst. Capa was the pariah of the crew, and whether or not he intended to be, acting that way made him come across as kind of rude. But to you, that only added to the appeal. The idea of getting with a guy who was so aloof made your fantasies run wild.

That night, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You slipped into your small room, dimmed the lights to thirty percent power, and shrugged out of your shirt and pants.

This was nothing you hadn't done before; it wasn't exactly groundbreaking stuff to masturbate when you were horny. For weeks now, though, it hadn’t really been enough to scratch the itch that seemed to grab hold of you whenever you were around Capa. But it dulled the ache, and for now that was the best you could hope for.

Your bed was more of a bunk, recessed partially into the wall. You laid down on the springy mattress and sighed as your fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear. You were still in your panties and bra, feeling self conscious about stripping all the way down even though you were alone in your room.

It felt like everybody was living right on top of each other, although luckily your dorm was at the very end of a row, so you only had a neighbor on one side. Unfortunately, that one neighbor just so happened to be Capa.

Knowing that he was so physically close only added to your frustration as your fingers swept over your clit. But still, it wasn’t like you had a choice about Capa being in the room next to you, and you certainly didn't have anywhere else to do this. Your fingers trailed lower, over your core, and you gasped.

You were already wet. Of course you were; after doing nothing but daydreaming about Capa for practically the entire day, how could you not be? You pictured his face from last night; how he had briefly looked at each one of you as you’d sat around the table with your two friends. The rush that it sent through your veins was electric. Your cheeks felt hot as you imagined him, his eyes holding slight disappointment while he looked at you.

You weren't sure why that turned you on, but it did. You wanted him to look at you with that soft little frown; his blue eyes piercing through you as if they could see every dirty fantasy that played out behind your own eyelids.

You sped up, using your fingers to collect some of the wetness that eagerly pooled between your legs, and then bringing them back up to rub at your clit. Slow circles at first, and then desperate with more pressure. Your mattress squeaked, and you hissed, bringing the hand that wasn't touching yourself down to grab at the cotton sheets.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, careful to stay as quiet as you could.

The only sound in the room aside from your moans was the wet noise that greeted you as you stuck two fingers into yourself, not bothering to warm up with just one. You needed this. You needed more, but this was the best you were getting. You curled your fingers, arching your back and daring to let a whisper of his name cross your lips.

A few seconds later, you were stopped by a knock at your door.

You barely had time to pull your fingers out, scrambling to sit up and cover yourself with a blanket as your door slid open. There were no locks, which usually wasn't a problem, except of course at times like this when it really reminded you that you had absolutely no privacy.

You were expecting Cassie - she had a habit of barging in, instead of waiting for you to answer her knock. But instead, you were greeted again by the very face you had been picturing only seconds ago.

“Capa?”

Your voice felt strangely small in the cramped space. Capa stepped through the door, letting it hiss closed behind him. His face was expressionless, except for the barest hint of that pout that drove you so crazy.

He didn’t answer right away, but took a step closer and leaned up against the wall that separated his room from yours. Then, his lips curled into a smile.

“You really don’t realize how thin these walls are, do you?”

The implication of his words crept up on you, until finally your face was frozen in a look of sheer horror.

“How much did you hear?” you asked, voice just barely above a whisper.

“Enough.” Capa shifted his weight, pushing himself off of the wall to stand up. “Enough to figure out the answer to that question Corazon asked you last night.”

“You heard that, too?” you groaned.

Capa walked over and sat down on the edge of your bed. Not touching you yet or getting too close, but hovering just out of reach in a way that made your skin tingle and your heart do flips. You had no clue if he was torturing you or inviting you to make the next move.

“D’you always think about me when you touch yourself?” Capa asked, bringing the volume of his voice down to match yours.

He sounded so sexy like that. He must have known what he was doing to you; his eyes were practically glowing with mirth and his lips were still curled into that smile. You shifted uncomfortably.

“I’d… rather not answer that,” you choked out.

Capa’s eyes darkened. No answer was as much of an affirmation as admitting it.

“You should have just asked for my help,” Capa teased. “You obviously need something. And it’s not like I’m twiddling my thumbs over there. Cumming into my own hand got old weeks ago.”

Your whole face burned hot with embarrassment at what he was admitting. And yet, at the same time, you shivered. The blanket you’d haphazardly thrown over yourself only covered your waist, and your bare shoulders were suddenly prickled with goosebumps.

Finally, Capa reached out and put a warm hand on your shoulder, then dragged it down the side of your arm, taking your bra strap with it.

“Want me to touch you?” he asked.

His voice was low, and you could feel yourself getting pulled down with it. You knew that it would be stupid to do this; sleeping with Capa could only open a Pandora’s box. If it was good, you wouldn’t be able to get off on your own fingers for the rest of your time on the ship. If it was bad, you still had years to spend cramped up together. Your room right next to his in the already-tight quarters. It wasn’t as if you’d be able to avoid him after an awkward hook-up.

Suddenly, though, you realized that you were thinking way too much.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Capa’s hand trailed farther down your arm; grabbed your wrist. You bit your cheek, wary of making any more noises after his earlier comment. All the crew’s quarters were laid out close together; if you were too loud, the whole ship would hear.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” Capa hummed, bringing you close as he leaned in, his lips practically brushing against yours. That seemed like a good enough place to start as any.

“K-kiss me - please,” you whimpered.

Capa’s lips found yours, and the rush that surged through you was almost overwhelming. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, and the press of his slightly chapped lips against yours was doing more to you than it should have.

Your mouth opened, and his tongue instantly pushed in. He was moving slow, but with a hunger that sent your mind racing with thoughts of what he could do to you if you asked. You felt Capa’s breath against your face; heard the low moan that vibrated through both of you as it came from the depths of his chest.

“What else?” Capa urged, pulling away. “We both know that’s not all you want.”

You could hardly think straight, much less put together a sentence. Instead, you guided his hand to your chest, and felt as his fingers squeezed. As he did, he leaned back in for another kiss.

You had put Capa’s hand over your bra, but he quickly slipped it under the fabric to rake over your bare skin. His fingers pressed into you, kneading at delicate flesh. You moaned, opening your mouth against his kiss again, and he bit hungrily at your lips.

“So soft,” he murmured, flicking a thumb over your nipple. “But that’s not where you really want me to touch…”

His voice was airy, even as he gripped at you with an intensity that almost hurt. He lowered his rough hand from your breast, and pushed past the blanket still draped over your legs. Teasing at the hem of your panties for only a second, he deepened the kiss as his fingers pushed lower and lower. Finally, he reached the wetness that was still pooling between your legs.

“You’re fucking soaked,” he groaned. You felt your cheeks heat up again. “You really want it that badly?”

“Fuck, Capa,” you whined.

“Want me to touch you like this?” he teased, voice still husky as he pressed one finger into you.

He had barely pushed in the pad of his fingertip, and you were already sinking into the mattress, unable to hold yourself up. Capa added a second finger, then repositioned himself, squeezing into the too-small bed with you to hover over your frame as his fingers roamed deeper.

“Yes - just like that,” you begged. “Don't stop.”

Capa curled his fingers inside you, and you opened your mouth in a silent gasp. Your eyes had squeezed shut, and when you opened them again, you saw him looking pleased with himself, gazing down at you as you lost your mind over his touch.

“Bet you've thought about me doing this,” he whispered. “Isn't that right?”

“Yes-” Your voice hitched. “Yes- ah- thought about- cumming on your fingers.”

Capa smirked and brought his lips to your ear.

“You're not gonna cum on my fingers.”

He pulled them out of you, and you groaned at the loss. You felt his stubble scrape your cheek as he got up off of you, and you watched, half in a trance, as he took off his boxers. You hadn't even noticed until now, but he was just in his underwear and a t-shirt. He pulled the shirt off, too, and then went about removing the last of your clothes.

You suddenly had the urge to cover yourself; like you now had too much on display even though Capa had already been watching your face twist in pleasure while he was knuckle-deep in you. You brought your arms up to cover your chest, but Capa gently brushed them away.

“Don't be shy; it's nothing I haven't already imagined,” he winked.

Again, the implications had you almost slack-jawed. You had no idea if it was true or if he was just teasing you, but you really didn't care.

“Let me show you what I've thought about,” Capa went on.

He took your hand and brought it to his hard cock, wrapping your fingers around it. He sighed a little as you touched him, softly, and the sound sent another shiver down your spine.

“C’mon - wanna feel you,” Capa said, his eyes half-hooded. “Use your hand. Squeeze me.”

Your heart fluttered as you followed his instructions; tightening your grip on his shaft until he was groaning above you. You gave him a few tentative pumps.

“So good,” Capa groaned.

The dull ache had returned between your legs; you were still missing the touch of his fingers. Even though you were happy to touch him as well, you needed the friction. You started to squirm, rubbing your legs together.

“Impatient,” Capa laughed. “Don't worry - m’not gonna tease you too much longer.”

His mouth dipped to your neck, pressing a kiss along your collarbone. Your hand flexed, and Capa groaned deeply again. The sound was enough to send you reeling; you thought you might come from his voice alone if he didn't hurry up.

“Stop teasing,” you begged. Breathless, and fully aware of just how desperate you sounded.

“I guess we've both waited long enough, huh?” Capa chuckled.

Your hand relaxed, and Capa’s came up to guide himself, hovering right at the space where you wanted him, but not pushing in just yet.

“Be quiet now,” Capa reminded you, and he kissed you as he started to press in. “Wouldn’t want anybody to hear you.”

You would have cried out, not caring who heard you or how loud you were, had Capa's lips not been pressed roughly against yours, swallowing your muffled moan as he bottomed out. He pulled back to watch you, panting like a dog beneath him, and smirked again.

“Fuck, this is so much better than my hand,” he said, breathing a little heavy himself. “M’not gonna last long.”

The idea sent your head spinning all over again, and your legs squeezed his hips a little tighter. The thought of Capa, coming too quick as he buried himself inside you, turned you on so much that you moaned out loud, and Capa quickly slapped a hand over your mouth. His palm was rougher than you'd imagined it.

“Told you to be quiet,” he warned.

When he started to move, you were grateful for the hand covering your lips, because without it you certainly would have woken the whole crew. As it was, Capa had to press his palm a little harder to muffle the moans that escaped. You were shameless; couldn't think about anything but the way his cock was stretching you out and spearing into you. It was more than enough to make you forget where you were.

“Not that I don't normally love hearing you get off,” Capa whispered, “but if you keep doing that, we're gonna get caught.”

Had he heard you the other times you'd touched yourself? You thought of him, silently palming his cock in the next room over, listening to your soft moans and breathy sighs as you tried - and failed - to stay quiet.

Capa, unlike you, still had control of his voice; never letting it rise above a whisper. You wished you could hear him - how you were really making him feel. You bet he would make the prettiest noises if he'd let himself.

“Gonna be good?” Capa asked as he sped up.

You nodded, and he removed his hand. Instantly, the way his cock hit a spot deep inside of you made you hiss with pleasure, teeth clenched as you fought to stay quiet.

“Fuck, Capa - driving me crazy,” you breathed.

“I know,” he agreed. “Feels good, doesn't it?”

“Mm-hmm…”

“If you can stay quiet, then you can cum on my cock.”

The way it felt like he was giving you permission sent another wave of heat through your whole body. You wanted to come for him. The feeling that had been steadily building now felt like it was nearly about to flow out of you; you could so easily let yourself fall over into oblivion.

“Can’t stay quiet,” you whined. “God, you feel so- ah!”

You gasped as Capa’s cock twitched inside of you, his hips continuing to swirl against yours. He was almost there, too; you could feel it. And the realization only pushed you closer.

“Shit,” Capa swore.

He was clearly at odds with himself, over whether to cover your mouth again so that the two of you wouldn’t get caught, or give in and let you scream for him. His hips faltered, and you moaned again. He was running out of time to make a decision.

“Bite down on my shoulder,” he said, finally. “Fuck - I’m gonna come.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You had thought very often about what it would be like to sink your teeth into his skin. Seeing even an inch of it peeking out from behind the collar of his shirt or on display in one of those fucking tank tops was enough to drive you crazy. You bit down, just in time as you finally let yourself give in to the building pressure.

As you bit him, Capa swore again, and scrambled to pull out of you, as best he could with your bodies still pressed together. He was coming, white ropes painting your stomach as you came down from your own high.

You wished you had gotten to squeeze him more. The idea of him emptying into you as you milked his cock was almost too good to imagine. As your senses returned, you realized that Capa was speaking to you.

“So… Did you enjoy me teaching you about physics?” He was panting, but there was still light in his voice as he teased you, echoing Cora’s words from last night.

“Stooop,” you protested.

“If you didn’t, we don’t have to do this again,” Capa teased.

“Noo,” you mewled, voice still weak from your orgasm. “Can’t go back to fucking my fingers now…”

“Yeah,” Capa agreed, bringing his lips down for another rough kiss. “Me neither.”

The next night, Cassie proposed taking out the vodka again, and the three of you met in the canteen, as usual. Prepared for another late night of gossiping.

“You seem brighter today,” Cassie noticed, facing you.

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m feeling a little better.”

You left it at that. You weren’t sure how long you and Capa could keep your new arrangement a secret, but you also weren’t rushing to tell the girls. The bottle of vodka made its first round, and the three of you started to speculate about which member of your small crew was most likely using up all the hot water. You’d all been taking freezing cold showers for weeks.

Only a few minutes passed before Capa came sauntering into the room again. Just like last time, he glanced at your group before reaching up to get something out of a cabinet.

“You three never learn, do you?” he commented.

You felt your cheeks start to heat up again. His eyes focused on you, briefly, and then moved on to something else. Cassie puffed up, straightening in her seat as she faced him.

“Go away, Capa,” she huffed. “This is a private conversation.”

Capa came over to lean on the table, glaring down at your small group.

“Oh yeah, I’m so interested in your riveting conversations about how I get off and roll over.”

Cassie’s face turned red. Corazon glared at him. And you felt your soul fully exit your body.

“You were eavesdropping on us?” Cassie shrieked.

“No - you just weren’t being quiet,” Capa corrected.

“The walls here are too damn thin,” Cora muttered.

Capa had a small smile as he straightened up and walked off, pausing just before he exited the room. He turned around, staring blankly at Cassie as he spoke.

“I’m not upset or anything,” he said. “And besides, your friend over there knows it’s not true, so…”

He left, taking with him all the air in the room. Cassie and Cora stared at each other, eyes wide in disbelief, and then pointed their gaze at you.

“You fucked Capa?!” Cassie shouted.

“Cassie, hush,” Cora snapped. She leaned in. “But seriously, we need all the details. Spill.”

You buried your face in your hands, trying in vain to hide your embarrassment. Your two friends badgered you relentlessly, begging for the whole story behind how it happened.

Somewhere else in the ship, Capa smirked.

#robert capa x reader #robert capa smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #robert capa #LemmyFics

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doumadono · 11 months

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Carrying his child - Dabi x Reader

Warnings: reader is pregnant, Dabi is rather rude at first, angst Synopsis: you set up a meeting with Dabi to reveal that you're carrying his child Requested by: anonymous

MASTERLIST

You stood nervously at the top of the hill, waiting for Dabi to arrive. The wind rustled through the tall grass, and the distant sounds of the city faded away, leaving behind a quiet serenity. This was the place you had chosen to break the news to him — a place where you could speak without interruptions or prying eyes.

After what felt like an eternity, you spotted a figure approaching in the distance. It was Dabi. As he drew nearer, you couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety. Dabi was known for his rough demeanor and cold attitude, and you knew that telling him you were pregnant would not be well received.

"About time you showed up," he grumbled, his voice laced with annoyance. "What's so important that you had to drag me out here, doll?"

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. "I need to talk to you, Dabi. It's something important."

He crossed his arms, a scowl forming on his face. "Well, spit it out then. I don't have all day, babe."

You hesitated, gathering your thoughts before finding the courage to speak. "I'm pregnant," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dabi's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing into a glare. "And what the hell does that have to do with me?" he snapped.

His harsh words hit you like a punch to the gut, tears welling up in your eyes. "Dabi, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling. "I thought you deserved to know. This... this is your child too."

He stared at you, his anger momentarily giving way to confusion. Slowly, the weight of your words seemed to sink in, and his expression hardened. "Mine?" he repeated, his voice cold and distant.

You nodded, wiping away the tears that streamed down your face. "Yes, Dabi. We're going to have a baby."

Dabi's scowl deepened, and he took a step back, distancing himself from you. "You think I wanted this? You think I wanted some brat tying me down?" he growled.

Your heart shattered at his callous words, and you fought back sobs that threatened to escape your throat. "I didn't plan for this either, Dabi," you managed to say through trembling lips. "But it's happening, and I thought you deserved to know."

He sneered at you, his anger seeping through every word. "Deserved to know? You think I care about your damn feelings? You think I care about some bastard child? We had some nice sex, yes, but that's it. I've never signed up for starting a goddamn family."

Unable to bear his cruelty any longer, the floodgates burst open, and tears streamed down your face. "How can you say that?" you sobbed, your chin trembling. "This is our child, Dabi. It's a part of you too. You won't change it. It already happened! How can you be so cruel... I've given upon everything for you!"

Dabi's eyes widened as he watched your tears flow, and for a brief moment, a flicker of regret flashed in his gaze. His hardened facade crumbled, revealing a mixture of anger, confusion, and a hint of remorse. Dabi stared at the ground, his jaw clenched tightly. The weight of his harsh words hung heavily in the air, and he could feel the pain radiating from you. The memories of your intimate, passionate nights together flashed through his mind, reminding him of the connection you shared. He couldn't deny the truth. Deep down, he knew it was his child. A mix of emotions battled within him — fear, regret, and a twinge of guilt. He had always been guarded, keeping others at arm's length. Love was a foreign concept to him, and the thought of being responsible for another life terrified him. But as he glanced up at you, your tear-streaked face and trembling figure, something shifted inside him. You had always been there, standing by his side, unwavering in your loyalty and love. He knew that you were faithful, not out of fear, but because you genuinely cared for him. Dabi took a step closer, his voice softer this time, tinged with remorse. "I... I reacted poorly. I know I did," he admitted, his voice laced with vulnerability. "It's just... I'm not used to this. I'm not used to someone caring for me like you do. It's just... Fuck. It's too much to comprehend at once."

Your sobs began to subside, replaced by a glimmer of hope in your eyes. "Dabi," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and forgiveness. "I understand. It's a lot to take in."

He reached out tentatively, his fingers grazing against your cheek, wiping away the remnants of tears. "You deserve better than what I gave you just now," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "And... our child... they deserve better, too."

You sniffled, trying to compose yourself. "Dabi, I understand that you're scared and unsure," you said, your voice trembling but determined. "But this is happening, and our child deserves better than this. They deserve to know their father."

Dabi looked away, his jaw clenched, struggling to find the right words. The weight of his initial reaction seemed to sink deeper within him, battling against the emerging realization of the life growing inside you.

"I never thought... I never thought I could be a father," he finally admitted, his voice laced with vulnerability. "I've done terrible things, you know that, and I don't know if I can be what this child needs. I'm a fucking monster, certainly not a role model.."

You took a step closer, reaching out to gently touch his scared forearm. "Dabi, nobody is perfect," you said softly. "But that doesn't mean you can't change or be there for our child. It's not too late to start over, to become the father you never had."

His eyes met yours, a mix of pain and uncertainty reflecting in their depths. "You really think I can do it? Be a father?"

"I believe in you," you whispered, your voice filled with conviction. "I've seen glimpses of the man behind the mask, the person who cares beneath the rough exterior. And I know deep down, there's a part of you that wants to protect and love our child."

Dabi's defenses began to crumble further as he took in your words. He reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender. "I... I don't know if I deserve you," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "But if there's a chance... a chance to make things right, to give our child a better life, then maybe... maybe I can try."

A glimmer of relief and gratitude washed over you, and tears of a different kind welled up in your eyes. "Thank you, Dabi," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "Thank you for giving us a chance."

Dabi's grip tightened on your cheek, his eyes filled with a mixture of newfound tenderness. "I won't promise it'll be easy," he said, his voice steady. "But I'll try my damn hardest to be there for you and our child."

A bittersweet smile tugged at your lips, and you rested your hand on top of his. "That's all I can ask for, Touya," you replied within a whisper. "We'll face this together, and we'll create a better future for our family."

Dabi's eyes widened as he heard you call him by his true name. It sounded like music to his ears, hearing you whisper "Touya" with such love and tenderness.

Tears of relief streamed down your face as you leaned in, pressing a tender kiss against his lips. It was a silent promise, a symbol of the new path you were embarking on together.

As you stood there on the hillside, a sense of hope began to replace the initial fear and uncertainty. The road ahead would undoubtedly be challenging, but with each passing moment, you both felt a growing connection, a shared commitment to love and protect the life you had created together. And as the wind whispered through the grass and the city lights twinkled in the distance, you knew that despite the rough exterior, Dabi's heart held the potential to embrace the love and responsibility that awaited him.

#dabi #dabi angst #dabi my hero academia #touya todoroki #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #dabi x you #my hero academia #bnha dabi #bnha angst #pregnant!reader #toya todoroki #touya todoroki angst #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you

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genshin-impact-writings · 1 year

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Can i ask for headcanons for scaramouche, Tighnari and xiao? I was thinking what makes them feel loved and how they show their love in return... so, like, their love languages? No idea if that's the right term, lmao. Thank you so much! 😍🥰

Hey there! <3 I What a cute request, thank you for sharing that idea with me! I really had lots of fun working on this one, although I think Scaramouche might be a bit ooc. But I hope you'll enjoy the headcanons nevertheless. :)

Characters: Scaramouche / Wanderer, Tighnari, Xiao

What makes them feel loved & how they show their love in return (ft. gn!reader)

Scaramouche / Wanderer

Let’s keep it real, Scaramouche isn’t an overly affectionate person. For others, it’s probably hard to tell if you have a genuine relationship or if you just hate each other because Scaramouche never misses an opportunity to call you names and tease or even mock you – all in a playful manner, of course. Even he is not so cruel to hurt his lover’s feelings on purpose.

He rarely initiates any physical affection like kisses or cuddles but when he does he makes sure to put all the things he can’t put into words properly into these gestures. Every kiss from him is a silent declaration of love, and every time he hugs you he doesn’t let go until he can be sure that the hug lasted long enough to make it very clear how important you are to him. He’s also always willing to provide you some comfort whenever you’re not feeling well or had a bad day.

One thing he really hates is being away from you. Whenever your ways have to part for whatever reason, he always makes sure that you have something that reminds you of him – like a piece of clothing, a hastily scribbled note or a small gift. He doesn’t say anything about it though, so you oftentimes just find these things completely out of the blue.

What makes him feel incredibly loved is the fact that you’re so content around him and always treat him in such a kind and gentle manner. Scaramouche is used to others avoiding him for many different reasons, one of them being fear and distrust, but you obviously confide in him so much that you can even fall asleep with your head on his chest. You don’t judge him for anything he did in the past and just accept him the way he is which is truly a rare experience for him.

He would never ever admit it but Scaramouche really turns into putty in your hands when you give him loving pet names (when there’s no one else around to hear them, of course – after all, he has a reputation to lose). There’s just something to tender and intimate about this way of addressing him, and he’s absolutely sure he will never get tired of how soft your voice sounds when you call him ‘dear’ or ‘darling’.

Tighnari

Tighnari is incredibly busy with his duties as a Forest Watcher and often spends days away from Gandharva Ville to ensure that the ecosystem of Avidya Forest is balanced or to deal with the effects of the Withering. So, there are sometimes periods of time where you don’t see each other at all or just for a couple of moments before he has to leave again.

This is why he mainly shows his love by spending uninterrupted quality time with you. He loves to take you on long walks during the forest where you can either talk or dwell on your own thoughts while you wander around together, holding hands and enjoying each others’ company. He shows you all of his favorite spots around Avidya Forest and takes the time to explain things to you if you have questions about a specific plant or animal you encounter on your way.

From time to time, Tighnari also surprises you with a picnic. He’s not a particularly talented cook but there a few dishes he mastered (including your favorites), and sometimes, he just bursts into your house with a blanket and a basket filled with food and drinks in his hands to drag you out into the forest. He just feels so at home there, and he wants to share the peaceful atmosphere with you while you enjoy a nice meal together.

One thing that makes Tighnari feel really loved and appreciated is when you show interest in his work. Just asking him about his day and the things he encountered in the forest is enough to make him fall in love with you even more, and he will happily tell you everything that happened during his patrols.

Also, the fact that you never complain when he starts to ramble about a super specific topic, like a rare and special plant or something like this. He’s so grateful that you’re never annoyed by that and oftentimes encourage him to keep talking when he realizes he’s been rambling again and starts to go silent. He also has such a soft spot for compliments. Tell him he did a good job with something and he will be putty in your hands immediately.

Xiao

To be honest, Xiao really struggled with accepting your love at first because he felt like he doesn’t deserve it, although he really couldn’t find a good reason for that, even if he tried. It’s just something that was always in the back of his head when you started to get closer.

So, with that being said, he also doesn’t really know how to show his love for you. It’s not something he ever needed to worry about but now that you’re in his life, he can’t help but feel like he’s not doing enough. In his opinion, you deserve the entire world and he sometimes thinks that he can’t give you that, no matter how often you reassure him that he makes you the happiest person in all of Teyvat. Generally speaking, Xiao isn’t good with expressing his feelings with words, hence why he focuses on proving his feelings with actions instead. He’s the type of guy who fully believes that actions speak louder than words, so whenever you need him he’s there to support you.

He allows you to take care of him when he’s not feeling well or when he’s injured, even though he’s so used to tending to his wounds on his own. Around others, he usually hides his pain because he doesn’t want to be a burden but around you, he just feels safe enough to let his guard down. You’re one of the very few people who are allowed to see his more vulnerable, soft side.

What makes him feel loved is that you accept his boundaries without ever questioning him about them. He has dealt with so much pain in the past (and still is, for the record) and it absolutely means the world to him that you don’t pressure him to talk about it more or ask him dozens of questions about this time. But he’s also well aware that you’re always there for him, should he ever need someone to talk, and that’s another thing he really appreciates.

Xiao melts on the spot every time you let him rest in your arms. There’s just something so soothing and comforting about your presence that he drifts off to sleep almost every time you hold him close, playing with his hair or whispering sweet nothing into his ear.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, please consider liking, reblogging or leaving a comment. I’d really appreciate the support. <3

Taglist: @ajaxstar @genshinparty @kaeyas-beloved @the-gayest-sky-kid @caesars-bubbles @the-fifteen

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #tighnari x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff #xiao fluff #tighnari fluff #scaramouche x you #tighnari x you #xiao x you #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fluff #gn!reader #gender neutral reader

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punkeccentricenigma · 5 months

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Hey so can I get a scenario with rottmnt donnie who is genuinely excited over something and s/o stares at him for a moment and they snap out of it when they’re name is called and they’re like, no teasing, genuine love struck vibes from s/o, ”Oh. Sorry. I was admiring how cute you were being”?

DONATELLO X READER "How cute you look right now."

relationship status: Romantic

Reader prounouns: They/Them

Words: 1066

TW: some grammatical errors because english is not my first language.

Author's note: The first version of this request, in my opinion, was better, but due to my phone breaking, I lost all the finished work, so I had to rewrite it again. I hope you like it.

I also wanted to convey an important message. Due to the lost work, I lack the inspiration and energy to rewrite the rest. THEREFORE, IF SOMEONE HAS ALREADY REQUESTED ANYTHING AND HASN'T RECEIVED IT, PLEASE ORDER SOMETHING NEW BECAUSE I DON'T INTEND TO COMPLETE OLD ORDERS. I'M SORRY

The gentle scent of fuel irritated the nose of the [COLOR]-eyed teenager as they swayed lightly in the black chair. They were currently in Donatello's new workshop, which at the moment resembled a regular empty space with a few screens, half of them turned off. Their gaze shifted from their phone screen to a younger boy who had been sitting on the cold floor for hours, tinkering with one of the devices meant to refine the computers salvaged from the previous Lair.

"Get up," [Y.N] spoke, taking a soft pillow from her knees and standing up. Donatello looked at his _friend with a surprised look from beneath his two-colored goggles.

"What?" His voice slightly cracked, probably due to the dryness in his throat from neglecting such needs. The person rolled their eyes and lightly nudged his thigh with their foot, signaling him to move, and he did; he sat on the pillow.

"Better," a warm smile played on the teenager's lips as they gently stroked his head, causing a slight fondness within the turtle. He felt a bit embarrassed that someone else had to take care of him due to his neglect, but he desired to feel that tenderness, especially from his life partner. "How's the work going?" Their question snapped him out of his thoughts; his gaze returned to the colorful cables tangled in chaos.

Donnie sighed heavily, briefly taking off his half-mystical glasses. "There was progress at the beginning; I thought I'd finish it before lunch," he started, grabbing his phone on which he had drawn all the plans. "But something's not right! A little more, and I'll be asking for help on Reddit." The person immediately burst into quiet laughter, causing a lowering of the ninja's drawn eyebrows. Annoying, but he wouldn't trade this moment for anything.

"Well, unfortunately, I'm not savvy in electronics, especially as advanced as this," They declared, pointing their hand at the scene before them. "The only way I can help is by bringing you food and drink; you're going to collapse here, Cutie Patootie." The boy snorted when [Y.N] stood up.

"You really shouldn't call me that!" The [COLOR]eyed shrugged in a mocking way, leaving the room. If he could tease them at times, why couldn't they take advantage of such situations? Maybe that's why their relationship lasted so long? Who knows.

"Woah!" They had to squat immediately to avoid being hit by a rubber chicken. "What the heck, Angelo?"

"Oh, sorry [Y.N], work accident!" Mikey spoke from behind the counter, wearing a pinkish apron. The teenager's eyes expressed shock and disbelief as they approached the kitchen.

"What are you doing, Angelo?"

"Chicken soup!"

"Chicken soup from a rubber toy chicken?!" [COLOR]-eyed elbows touched the wood as they leaned against the counter. Michelangelo furrowed his eyebrows, apparently offended.

"Excuse me! I'm making soup from normal ingredients!" his lips formed a curve. "This toy was for entertainment."

"…"

"Your pot is burning."

"NO!"

The boy immediately turned around, wanting to fix the situation, but after a moment, resignation was visible in his shoulder movements. "Well…" his voice didn't sound like he was pleased. "No lunch today?"

"Don't worry, my younger brother, we've got this covered!" [Y.N]'s gaze fell on the older ninja brothers entering the room; Leo held a box full of pepperoni pizza.

"Thank goodness," the teenager muttered quietly, grabbing a cup to pour regular cola into it. No matter how much they liked Michelangelo, they absolutely didn't want to try anything he cooked. With another swift move, they took two slices of pizza and left the kitchen, avoiding another whimsical situation created by those idiots.

"I'm back," the person skillfully pushed aside the curtain serving as makeshift doors. Without further words, they sat next to their boyfriend, lightly poking him in the side to finally get him away from the cables and take a piece of round food from them.

"Pizza?" Donatello completely removed his two-colored goggles, looking at the slice of dough in his hand with a surprised gaze. "Wasn't it supposed to be some kind of soup?"

"There was a little accident," the person bit into the edge of pepperoni, feeling a slightly prickly taste on their tongue. "I don't know if you want to know."

"Nah, I'll survive," he mumbled.

"How's the progress on that? Any breakthroughs?"

His black eyes suddenly brightened, as if his mind had been refreshed. "Oh, you wouldn't believe it! I finally figured out what was wrong! Quite strange that it took me so long, considering my recent notes…" as Soft-shell chaotically scrolled through his phone screen, eating a piece of pizza in the meantime, his voice faded into the background of [Y.N]'s mind as they increasingly focused on his face and movements.

A light pink blush appeared on the teenager's cheeks, along with a warm smile. They felt a tingling sensation, not causing them pain or anything of the sort, but rather stimulating their adrenaline, accelerating their heartbeat. No matter what Donatello was saying, [Y.N] eagerly listened, especially when he showed that positive energy and excitement—there's nothing more beautiful than seeing your loved one in that state.

"Hey, everything okay?" the person blinked a few times, seeing a slight concern on the young genius's face. Oh, apparently, they interrupted his monologue. "You seem a bit absent." Oh no, [COLOR]-haired knew that this might look like a simple act of ignorance; they had to fix it!

"S-sorry, D, I just…" a slight bite on their lip, it might sound cheesy. "I was just admiring how cute you look right now."

Donatello's mouth opened for a moment, as if he wanted to fend off some verbal attack, but his brain, for the first time in many years, didn't know what to think. It was… frustrating! He didn't expect something like this; he wasn't yet so accustomed to such sweet words and statements; he felt helpless.

He felt butterflies in his stomach, and a similar blush appeared on the dark green skin as on the person in front of him. "Is everything okay?" his dark eyes rested on his partner's counterpart, who asked a very similar question earlier. After a moment of silence, he chuckled softly, smiling gently.

"Thanks, I-it's nice to hear that." He averted his gaze, unable to hold it, and exclaimed loudly, "So, as I was saying…!"

#rise donnie x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rottmnt x you #rottmnt x y/n #teenage mutant ninja turtles #Donatello #Donatello x reader #Punkeccentricenigma #fluff

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clangenrising · 5 months

Text

Month 10 - Leafbare

Sagetooth sat in her nest, curled tightly around herself to warm her freezing paws. The previous day had come with even more snow which had made searching for horsetail out of the question. Even the border patrols had been cut to a bare minimum to prevent anyone else from getting frostbitten. Today the snow had stopped falling but its remnants still laid thickly over the ground and her expedition had proved fruitless. Now, she waited for her body to warm up enough so that she could head back out again.

Yarrowshade had barely left the Healers’ den since he and Nightfrost had come in together. He helped Nightfrost plan patrols and delivered them to the rest of the Clan, he went hunting once or twice and did his assigned border shifts, but aside from that he spent every moment with Nightfrost. They slept next to each other, they shared tongues, they talked about Barleypaw’s training and the truce with EarthClan and other things.

Sagetooth had tried to tamp down her annoyance at their inane conversations. As much as she had no interest in love, she knew how important it was to other cats and she knew that Nightfrost’s situation was precarious. It was better that she focus on finding the proper medicine than on getting upset that a patient had someone who loved her. At least Branchbark had received a clean bill of health. If one more cat was stuck inside the den with her, she thought she might burst.

Outside the den, the world was a blinding white void under the noonday sun, all sound muffled by the snow blanketing the camp. Still, the sound of young voices chattering reached her ears and shortly enough, Oddstripe and his kits filtered into the den. Sagetooth sighed.

“Yarrowshade!” Barleypaw cried, rushing to her mentor’s side to snuggle up against him.

He laughed and lifted an arm to welcome her, opening one eye from his nap. “Hey, kiddo! I missed you!”

“Me too,” she nodded, burying her face in his fur contentedly.

Sparrowpaw and Floodpaw were bickering about something. “You’d be lost before you even found him,” Sparrowpaw frowned.

Floodpaw lifted his head and said, “Nuh-uh, I’d find him and choke him with his own collar.”

“You would not!” cried Sparrowpaw, seeming to get genuinely upset.

“Boys! Boys!” Oddstripe placated, “Nobody is going to the city to fight Razor. Can we please stop fighting?”

“I’m not fighting,” Floodpaw insisted, “he’s the one getting mad.”

“‘Cause you’re being a beebrain!” Sparrowpaw shouted through gritted teeth.

“Quiet!” Sagetooth snapped, “Both of you.” And the two apprentices fell silent, ducking their heads in shame.

Oddstripe offered her an apologetic wince. “Sorry, Sagetooth.”

“Did you find any horsetail?” she asked, dismissing the apology with a flick of her ear.

“No,” Oddstripe sighed. “I can go out again in a bit.” He stepped deeper into the den, then paused to cough.

“Dammit, Oddstripe,” Sagetooth growled, “are you sick?”

“What?” He looked up at her. “No, no, my throat is just dry.” He coughed again, trying to hide his muzzle in his shoulder.

“I’ll get you some water, Papa!” Sparrowpaw offered and bolted out of the den.

“It’s all gonna be frozen, you moron!” Floodpaw called as he followed after his brother.

“Sit down,” Sagetooth ordered. Oddstripe complied. Holding her breath, Sagetooth leaned in to press her ear against his chest. Oddstripe, who knew the procedure, waited for her to get into place and then took a deep slow breath, but it collapsed into coughs before he could finish filling his lungs.

“You are sick!” Sagetooth lashed her tail. “Get in your nest right now, young man. And make sure your fool kits give you a wide berth.” Oddstripe crept to his nest, ears hanging low.

“I’m sorry, Sagetooth,” he managed.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, “be better. I’m going to go looking for horsetail again. Treat yourself with catmint and stay away from Nightfrost. You don’t want her getting whitecough on top of frostbite.” Oddstripe nodded obediently.

“Is Papa gonna be okay?” Barleypaw asked, her voice timid.

“He’ll be fine if he stays in bed and gets his rest,” Sagetooth sighed, trying to be gentle. She did like Barleypaw.

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart,” Oddstripe reassured her and he was right. They had plenty of herbs to treat a cough and he had enough knowledge to treat himself and keep an eye on his symptoms. Nightfrost however… Sagetooth looked at the deputy and frowned. Her paws were wrapped with clean cobwebs and she was warm inside the den but… infection was just too likely, especially with their lack of useful stock. Nightfrost met her gaze and offered her a tight lipped smile in return. She understood exactly what Sagetooth had been thinking.

“I’ll be back soon with the horsetail,” the Healer said and then tromped into the snow before anyone could contradict her. She squinted harshly against the snow glare, mumbling curses under her breath. She would find the damned horsetail or, so help her StarClan, she would burn the entire forest down through sheer irritation.

~~~

When she returned, she was cursing herself. Finding a certain plant through thick snow was harder than she had thought and, even when searching the places that she knew horsetail grew, it was tedious and tricky to push through the snow and uncover any of it. She hadn’t been able to find any useful horsetail at all.

And what was worse, her paws were numb. She had tried to be careful and quick but her route had been a bit farther than she had anticipated and, by the time she had made it back to camp, she knew her paws were frostbitten. The damage was much less severe than Nightfrost had suffered but it was still a foolish mistake that was going to have serious consequences.

With Oddstripe on bed rest, this meant that no one would be able to treat wounds for a while. Especially if Nightfrost’s paws became infected, Sagetooth would not be able to touch them at all or else she might catch the infection. This was bad and she was furious with herself for making such a sloppy mistake.

As she entered the camp, she shouted, “Branchbark!” and the young warrior quickly scrambled out of the warriors’ den.

“Yes?” he asked dutifully. Sagetooth nearly sighed in relief. Nearly.

“I need you to go hunting for horsetail tomorrow. This is urgent, do you understand me?”

He nodded, a bit dumbstruck. “Yes, Sagetooth. I understand.”

“Good,” she huffed. “And don’t you dare come back with frostbite.” With that she turned and stomped into her den to warm her paws. Inside, Yarrowshade was asleep against Nightfrost’s side, but the deputy was awake and locked eyes with her. Sagetooth huffed again and looked away, unable to hold her patient’s gaze. She hoped that there would be time for Nightfrost to forgive her for her callousness.

UPDATES: - Branchbark recovers from whitecough - Oddstripe comes down with greencough - Sagetooth returns from herb gathering with frostbite. - RisingClan does not have enough healthy healers!

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Sagetooth #Yarrowshade #Nightfrost #Oddstripe #Barleypaw #Sparrowpaw #Floodpaw #Branchbark #clangenrising

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hungrywriter · 10 months

Text

10 days. (Pt. 1)

Jobe Bellingham x female!reader

A/n: @hummusxx @iissza

Jobe mechanically pushed his food around on his plate, his mind occupied by thoughts of dissatisfaction. Emma, his girlfriend of one year, rambled on about her day, oblivious to Jobe's disinterested state. Their relationship had been orchestrated by their parents, who had a long-standing friendship. While Jobe initially had feelings for Emma, he soon began to witness her true colours, and the once vibrant love and excitement between them had disintegrated into a monotonous routine, leaving Jobe feeling miserable.

As Emma continued to speak, Jobe half-heartedly smiled, attempting to convey his attention. But Emma saw through his facade, recognizing that something was amiss. She insisted that he share what was on his mind, sensing his disconnection. Jobe hesitated momentarily, contemplating whether to voice his concerns, but he gathered the courage to ask about their future.

"Have you ever considered having children?" Jobe posed the question, hoping for an open and honest discussion. Emma stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter, a response that crushed Jobe's spirits.

"Don't be ridiculous," Emma scoffed dismissively. "I have no desire for children. They're nothing but troublemakers, always getting in the way. Besides, Jobe, you have a promising career ahead of you. Do you really want kids to hinder your progress?"

Jobe felt a profound sadness wash over him as he absorbed Emma's words. He yearned to delve deeper into the topic, to understand her perspective and share his own dreams, but he feared the repercussions of causing a scene in the restaurant. Mustering what remained of his appetite, he quickly finished his meal and made a hasty exit with Emma in tow.

The next day at training, Jobe's performance was far from his usual standards—he was struggling, losing possession of the ball, and his shots were wildly off target. It was evident to everyone that something was amiss, but the frustration in Jobe's demeanour deterred anyone from speaking up. However, his coach, Rudy, recognized the signs of distraction and decided to intervene.

Calling Jobe over, Coach Rudy gestured for him to take a seat. Jobe's heart sank as he realised he was about to face the consequences of his poor performance. Coach Rudy's concerned expression softened the blow, giving Jobe a glimmer of hope that he might understand.

"Look, kid, it's clear that your head is not in the game today. Is something bothering you?" Coach Rudy inquired, his tone a mix of curiosity and genuine care. Jobe remained silent for a moment, contemplating whether to confide in his coach. Eventually, he found the courage to open up about Emma's behaviour the previous night.

As Jobe recounted his frustrations with Emma, Coach Rudy let out a hearty chuckle, surprising Jobe. It was not the response he had anticipated. Sensing Jobe's confusion, Coach Rudy leaned in, offering a fresh perspective.

"You're dealing with relationship problems at 18? Well, well, kid," Coach Rudy chuckled again. "You know what? I'm going to give you a two-week break. Take some time off to clear your head and sort things out."

Jobe was taken aback by the unexpected offer. He had been prepared for a reprimand, not a reprieve. He was about to protest, fearing the impact on his training and preparation for the upcoming crucial match in a month's time. But Coach Rudy cut him off, his tone firm yet empathetic.

"I want you to be focused and at your best for that important match. Sometimes, a break is necessary to gain clarity and regain your focus. Trust me on this, kid," Coach Rudy insisted.

Feeling a mix of gratitude and resignation, Jobe sighed and made his way to the locker room. As he checked his phone, he noticed missed calls and messages from Emma. Perhaps this break was what he truly needed.

#jobe bellingham #Jobe bellingham x reader #football #soccer #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader

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yooo-gehn · 2 months

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A late night rant about sex

A porn star once had an erectile dysfunction right in the middle of shooting porn, he just couldn't get it up, so you know what he did? The naked super sexy lady on top of him was just not arousing him, so he grapped his phone, and played his favorite porn clip, and shazam, he was back in the game. How crazy meta is that? A porn star needed porn to be sexually functional! Even when he knows exactly how unreal it is. I know it's easy to use this story to condemn porn, but actually screw that.

All I was thinking is damn, sex is never ever as simple as feeling aroused by mere naked bodies. It's a whole complicated very personal world we are taught to automatically feel ashamed of. It's a personal mood, taste, kink, type, fetish, and of course, it starts and ends in the mind. So much so that when it comes to turning yourself on, you can't do it because someone is naked and going down on you, you can only do it with seducing your specific mind with what it sexually craves.

But we are collectively and extremely sex starved that we become nations of hungry people eating the first thing they manage to put in their plate, for a starved person doesn't get to pick what they eat. They go for the bare minimum, or less. That porn star who couldn't get it up still have a better sex life than most people I know. We talk a lot about how bad porn is to the mind because it confirms our worldview, so nobody talks about how bad our actual sex life is, we are either masturbating alone as our little dirty secret, or we are denied our right to even admit we have personal nontraditional sexual cravings, cause you'd instantly be a filthy animal.

I read an article once in Psychology Today about how porn psychologically affects the sex life of married couples, bearing in mind we're Not talking about porn addicts who consume porn excessively, and you know what it basically said? The therapist didn't preach us about how porn automatically damages our sex life, but rather said what I always thought, that couples who had no problem with porn, found it arousing and helpful, and other couples who were uncomfortable with it, found it to be harmful, and consider it disloyalty if they found out their partner watches porn.

So your personal beliefs and preferences can make or break your sexual experience? And manifest itself physically? There's no "one ring that rules them all"? No ultimate manual or guideline that applies on everyone of us? Go figure.

You know, Napoleon once sent a letter to his wife saying "Home in three days, don't bathe", and it never grossed me out, in fact, it felt genuine, intimate sex as it should be, sex IS gross, we're fancy apes, who worry too much about looking our best, like it's a goddamn performance test. Like the brain doesn't fire bursts of electrical impulses from nowehere to nowehere during sex. Like it's not all about how ripe the moment is, how ripe your labia is, how ripe your cock is, how ripe your whole state of being is, and to be with a person who knows how to play the instrument of your body, cause they know, cause they made it safe for you to say, is sexier than every porn clip and every meaningless sex and every traditional soulless sex.

There's been a trend that looks down on passion cause it's a luxury for those who can afford it, missing the fact that just because something is out of reach, doesn't mean it's not important. We adapt to not having passionate lives by claiming it's silly to try to find our passions in life. But you know what eventually happens? We become a porn star doing his job and not be able to command his body to betray its nature. We become a porn star who sooner or later wouldn't be able to get it up.

#تأملات في الجنس

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year

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Y/n’s girlfriend coming home to her, Tangerine, and Lemon’s (humongous) house from work crying, Tan and Lem being like, “Who do I need to kill?!?!”

im a sucker for things like that. sorry it’s taken so long, hope you like it💌

crap day (tangerine x f reader)

wc || 443

warnings || none (?)

masterlist + rules

taglist

Today had been awful, it felt like everything that could go wrong, went wrong. Everything from being late to work, accidentally interrupting an important meeting, to then spilling coffee over your laptop, like today the world was against you. To make things worse, your boss called you into his office to talk about your work ethic, basically to reprimand you. All you wanted to do was go home, cry in the bath and snuggle up to your boyfriend on the sofa, that was all you wanted.

Parking your car on the driving way at home, taking a moment to yourself. You were so frustrated with today that it made you want to burst into tears. You wanted to wait until you got in the bath, but your eyes said otherwise. Allowing yourself a moment to cry, picking up your bag from the passenger seat and making your way to the front door.

Quickly blotting your teary eyes, not wanting Tan and Lemon to notice. Unlocking the grand door, entering and immediately kicking off your shoes. Dropping your bag onto the accent table as you made your way into the kitchen to get a drink, preferably something with alcohol.

Sadly groaning into your hands when you see an empty bottle, not realising you had already drank it. That was another push, it made you want to snap, but that anger and frustration just resulted in even more tears.

Footsteps join you in the kitchen, but you don’t turn around.

“Love?” Tangerine sweetly asks.

“You alright, sweet?” Lemon gently coos.

“Yeah- yeah.” Not meeting their gaze.

“Someone made you upset? Because if they have- I will fuckin kill ‘em.. I will rip their head right off.” Tan says bitterly, hating the thought of someone hurting you.

“Me too! I will snap their neck over my knee.” Lemon says seriously.

Wryly snickering at their extreme reactions, “no it’s okay. Just a shit day.” You say sounding defeated.

“Aw, love.” Tangerine coos as he wraps his arms around your waist, reaching his head around to kiss your temple. “Anything we can do?”

“Nah I’m fine, but thank you, guys.” You smile as your rub your thumb over his arm.

“Maybe Thomas will help?” Lemon asks genuinely.

“I swear to god if you mention Thomas the tank engine one more time-“

“Actually, I think that might help.” You say inquisitively.

“Seriously?” Tangerine's neck snaps to look at you.

“Yeah.”

“See?” Lemon triumphantly interjects.

“Can’t believe my girlfriend like that shit too.” Tan jokingly scoffs to himself.

Being home made it all better, instantly forgetting about the god-awful day. Maybe you just needed to surround yourself with loved ones.

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine and lemon #bullet train #bullet train fanfic #tangerine fanfiction

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laurel-finch · 2 months

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'I Don't Bite' S1.Ch12: Dear Dad

Summary: A new enemy makes herself known... Referenced Episodes: S1 E16 "Shadow" CW: Gore. John Winchester should be his own warning. Word Count: 5399 Recommended Song: Cold as Ice -- Foreigner Previous Chapter -- Masterlist -- Next Chapter

The boys were rejoicing over the return of their father. I watched with bated breath, worried that something would go wrong. I still had that unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach and something told me not to let my guard down. I brought the neck of my t-shirt to my split lip and dabbed at the slow trickle of blood.

"Dad, it was a trap," Dean said quietly as he separated himself from his father's warm embrace, almost sounding embarrassed. "I didn't know. I'm sorry." The way he talked made my skin prickle, as if this was the only person who could command Dean's respect. I had never seen him, or Sam for that matter, bow to anyone like this. It made my skin crawl that Dean fell into a kind of obedience that he had with no one else.

"It's alright. I figured it might have been," John replied. He sounded so sure of himself.

"Then why are you here?" I demanded. The words came out much more spiteful than I had intended, earning me a harsh glare from Dean. I shrugged it off and held John's cold gaze. Neither my wolf nor I liked the commanding presence he held. He stood as if he owned the room and dominated the space, an admiral trait amongst humans. But to me… it felt like a threat.

John's gaze was harsh and cold, like a bitter winter. It felt like he was analyzing every inch of me and judging me based on what he saw. I didn't like the calculating look he was giving me.

"I came to help my sons," he said icily, and his no-nonsense tone caused me to narrow my eyes at him. "Mind telling me who the hell you are?"

Dean jumped into action without a second thought. "She's a hunter. A friend of ours." John didn't even look his way and instead held my firm gaze. He didn’t buy it – the brothers knew better than to hunt with people that weren’t part of the family.

I uttered my name coldly and extended my hand to John. "I'm new to the business."

John's brown eyes narrowed in thought, pondering what I had said. "You got any family in the business?" My skin itched. He really put it together that quickly?

I nodded. "Yeah. My uncle. I saw his phone number in our journal, you know. He never told me about you." I crossed my arms and did my best to look intimidating. It was harder than I anticipated, knowing that I was inadvertently defying a well-known hunter, a man that his sons, my friends, looked up to with a great deal of respect.

Dean’s head snapped in my direction the moment I mentioned the phone number. My gaze slipped to his for just a second, shooting him a cold look. Now he understood. He looked sheepish, realizing he had blown off such an important conversation.

I nearly had a heart attack when John cracked a subtle grin. "Funny," he said slowly. "I remember him. Good man, better hunter. He never mentioned you either." He grasped my hand tightly and shook it. "Thank you for looking out for my boys. I know they can be a handful."

I flashed my own grin and nodded. "You wouldn't believe the shit they've gotten into while you were gone."

He chuckled and clapped Dean on the shoulder. Dean smiled a genuine smile, one of the few I had ever seen him show. "I bet I could tell you stories about these two you that would have your head spinning," John laughed again, a well-worn sound, as though he used to laugh a lot. "You boys remember that hunt outside of San Antonio? With the rugaru? You boys just about-"

"Dad," Sam interjected with an almost warning note. John looked towards his youngest son, a flash of pain dancing over his eyes. "When did you get here?"

John swallowed before speaking again. "About the same time as your friend, I assume. Burst in right before the girl took a swan dive," he paused and looked towards the now broken window. "She was the bad guy, right?"

"Yes, sir," the boys said in sync. John nodded slowly, pondering as he took a few long strides towards the window.

"Good. That doesn't surprise me," he sighed and locked his hands behind his back, surveying his limited view of the city block. "It's tried to stop me before."

"The demon has?" questioned Sam, walking up behind his father. John nodded solemnly.

"It knows I'm close. It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcize it or send it back to hell- actually kill it." My eyes widened. Demons can't be killed, at least not to my limited knowledge they can't. And how did John expect to kill a demon of this caliber? From the stories I had heard, this thing was no joke.

"How?" Dean asked, voicing the very question I was asking myself.

"I'm working on that," his father responded. I frowned at the vague answer. Was he really not going to involve his boys in this? They had just as much of a right to know as anyone. I opened my mouth to retort but was cut off by Sam.

"Let us come with you," the youngest Winchester said. It was more of a command than a question. "We'll help."

Dean flashed a warning glare toward Sam and turned away from his family, reaching for his bag of weapons. My eyes followed Dean's reserved and surprisingly defeated-looking form. It was like he already knew this was going to go nowhere.

"No, Sam, not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in a crossfire. I don't want you hurt," John stated with a note of finality in his voice.

Sam clenched his jaw and balled his fists. His teeth ground together, as though he was trying to hold himself back from arguing. "Dad, you don't need to worry about us-"

"Of course, I do," John argued. "I'm your father." He sighed and ran a hand through his mussed hair, a bit of it sticking up with dried blood from where I had hit him. I felt a mix of pride and shame; pride, for landing a blow like that to one of the most famous hunters in America, and shame, for having fought him at all. "Listen, we can talk about this more when we get back to your hotel room."

Dean perked up at this, eyes wide with relief as he spun to face John. "You're coming with us?"

"For now," he answered. "I'll meet you there." He paced towards his fallen weapons bag and slung it over his shoulder, then stopped to think for a moment. He turned to me, emotions masked under his heavy gaze. "How about you ride with me. You can help give me directions to the hotel."

My heart thumped in my chest with worry. Was he already on to me?

Dean spoke up before I could answer. "Dad, you can just follow us-"

"It's alright, Dean," I said, holding up a hand. His jaw snapped shut, eyes filled with worry. It struck me just how much he almost looked like a puppy when John was around. He lost his bruising confidence and command as soon as John and I fell through the door. "I can handle myself." Dean's gaze hardened at my words. He knew what I really meant.

If John was going to find out who I really was, it would be on my terms. He wasn't going to find out what I was that easy.

The eldest Winchester nodded and motioned for me to follow him down the many stairs I had climbed up not that long ago. I sidestepped over the fallen door on the ground floor and followed him out of the building.

I realized that the pickup I had seen park a few alleys down was in fact his. I couldn't help but beat myself up over not putting two and two together – I couldn't have known, but I should have known.

To my surprise, the cab of the pickup smelled a lot like the boys – or rather, the boys smelled a lot like their father. The seats were worn and stained, and the scent of cheap beer hung in the air. It was the same beer scent that hung off Dean. Apparently, he and his father had similar tastes. John had an interesting smell, one of motor oil and beer, like when he wasn't hunting he was under his vehicle doing something. I remember the brothers mentioning that he was a mechanic before all this happened. Old habits die hard, I guess.

"You know, I've heard of you before. I dropped by Missouri Moseley's place not long after you three visited her."

My brows rose and I cocked my head to look at him. He stopped by Missouri’s, but didn’t bother to find his sons? And now he was just conveniently close enough to Chicago to be here for this hunt. Was he… following us? "Yeah? That was my first case with your boys," I answered coolly, fighting to keep the suspicion out of my tone.

John hummed thoughtfully, his eyes fixated on the dark road ahead. His brows knit together for a moment and he turned his face away from me, shrouded in shadow. "Where'd you say they picked you up?"

"Alabama. Few months back."

"Right. Alabama."

We drove along for only a few minutes, the Impala steadily distancing itself from us. As the boys turned a corner and disappeared from sight, John jerked the wheel in the opposite direction and turned sharply. I extended my hands to hold onto the dash, for fear of being knocked over. He guided the raised truck to a parking spot and halted.

The moment was tense with the two of us sitting in complete silence. I picked at the hem of my coat, borrowed from Dean, and waited for him to speak.

John inhaled deeply and clenched his hands on the steering wheel, holding it with a white knuckle grip. "You know," he started, his voice rough, "I hunted with your… uncle a few times. Got to know him pretty well. He never once mentioned anything about having a niece." His brown eyes latched onto my own, surveying me with deep suspicion and distrust. "The only family he ever mentioned was his sister, and I was told she died on a werewolf hunt years ago."

I swallowed dryly, lifting my chin in defiance. "So what? You trying to say you don't think I am who I say I am?"

"I think something is off about you," he grumbled. "You're hiding something."

"I can assure you, I'm not," I growled. "He was my uncle, and his sister was my mother."

"That would make you as old as Dean, for that to be plausible." Yeah, just about. Only a couple years younger. He leaned back in his seat and placed one hand on his hip to where I was sure he concealed some sort of weapon. "Something about your story doesn't check out, and I'll be damned if I let someone I don't trust around my boys."

I bit back a warning growl. "With all due respect, John, while your boys have been gallivanting around the country searching for you, I was the one helping them." I scowled at him, grimacing with distaste at his words. "If I wanted to hurt them, I've already had ample opportunities."

His fist clenched over his hip and a worn scowl rested on his face. I maintained the heated stare-down for what felt like years before he finally dropped his and looked out the front window.

"So what's the story?" he inquired. "What happened to your mom?"

I huffed and leaned back in my seat with my arms crossed. "She, uh, died on a hunt not long after I was born. I lived with my father. He left when I was seventeen... I moved in with my uncle after that."

It wasn't completely a lie. No, my mother hadn't died, but John didn't need to know that. That would have just raised even more questions that I either couldn't or didn't want to answer. And yeah, I had lived with my dad after she 'died,' but I had also lived with my mom.

"Why'd your dad leave?" he pressed, pulling a toothpick from the glove compartment and sliding it between his teeth.

I shrugged. "Hell if I know. Guess he just finally got fed up with me." No, he got fed up with living without her, I thought to myself. Despite their volatile and frequent fights they loved each other. “I look like her. That’s what my uncle said,” I tacked on hurriedly, building the story. Again, only a half lie.

John hummed in response and rolled his tongue over his teeth. I lifted a brow at the motion. Sam had the same habit when he was lost in thought. "Where is your uncle? Haven't heard from him in a while."

I stiffened, eyes glazing over as I stared out the window in front of me. John really didn't know? "He's dead," I mumbled. "Almost two years ago. Wraith hunt." I rubbed my eye, fighting back the occasional tear that wanted to slip through. Thinking about his death was one thing, but telling someone else about it made it feel so much more real...

"Shit," John whispered. "He was a good hunter."

No 'I'm sorry'? Seriously?

"Yeah," I mumbled back. "Yeah, he was. The best, I think."

"Did he ever get the wolf that got your mom?" John asked. I scoffed. Right back to hunting, like I wasn't suppressing the urge to cry. "He'd mentioned wanting to a few times."

"No," I sighed. "And, uh… he didn’t think it was a werewolf that killed her."

That caught John's attention. His head slowly turned to face mine, eyebrow raised and eyes holding a question in them. "If it wasn't a werewolf, then what was it?" Fuck… I should’ve kept my damn mouth shut.

"Um… you know about skinwalkers, right? Dean mentioned you went on a hunt when the boys were little."

“Yeah, I know of ‘em. They're just myths. If they did exist, they're all dead now."

I felt my hackles rise and fought the urge to growl at him. "Then what about your hunt?"

He shrugged. "I got a tip-off that there was some activity in the mountains of New Mexico. Small city nearby, people disappearing and then their bodies turning up with almost no distinguishable marks – all of them had their hearts missing. Wasn’t a full moon, so couldn’t have been a werewolf." My skin prickled as I felt him turn his heated stare toward me with that cold, calculating feeling that made my skin crawl. “I’ve seen a few similar cases since then. Nothing fruitful, though.”

“Makes sense if they’re extinct,” I grumbled.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "There was a local legend, probably spread by the Navajo – they're native to that area, you know, and the deserts around it like Arizona. Anyway, a bunch of locals were talking about seeing wild wolves with red eyes. Massive wolves apparently, bigger than any dog. When I went out there and looked around, there was nothing. No wolves, no bodies, no trace of nothing. Even the witnesses had either moved away or refused to talk and acted like they hadn't seen anything. I tried to work the case, but there was nothing to go on."

I shifted in my seat and turned my upper body to face him. "The lack of a case doesn't negate their existence."

John chuckled again, an airy, disbelieving sound. "No, but it doesn't prove their existence either. I haven't heard about a fresh skinwalker case in years. Last person I met who actually saw one is probably in her late eighties now. Hell, even then she wasn't sure what she saw. Said it was just as likely to have been a Chupacabra," he hummed and turned his dark, almost black eyes on me. "What makes him so sure it was a skinwalker that did her in?"

I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times, searching for a feasible answer and finding none. "Dunno. He never… found any real facts. Just a feeling, I guess," I finally said, my voice lacking the confidence I felt.

John laughed once before putting the truck back into drive and pulling away from the curb. "On a hunt, the only thing that a feeling will get you is dead."

I narrowed my eyes at him and leaned forward slightly as he accelerated the heavy truck, the engine roaring to life. "I think feelings are important on a hunt. Without them, it becomes more about the thrill of the kill and less about saving a life."

He mulled this over for a few seconds before speaking. "Feelings save people, yeah. But the lack of it wipes out monsters. There's a reason why we don't have skinwalkers or vampires anymore - someone lacked those feelings. And now, those monsters can't hurt anyone again."

I straightened in my seat, utterly surprised by his coldness. I had never met anyone with such a dark philosophy. Even my uncle, an incredibly skilled and well-known hunter, valued compassion for the victims over the death of the monster. I sat back against my seat, staring out the window with wide eyes.

I blinked twice, realizing that I could never alert John to what I really was. If I did, he'd certainly kill me. God, to even bring skinwalkers up was so fucking stupid. What the hell was I thinking?

"You know," he started. I refused to turn my eyes toward him. "I'm glad someone like you is with the boys. You don't seem like the type to put up with their shit."

"No," I stated. "No, I try not to put up with anyone's shit."

"Good. The boys need that, for when I'm not around."

I bristled, my shoulders tensing. I’m nothing like you. The remainder of the trip back to the hotel was silent, aside from the occasional direction on how to get there. I was thankful when he parked and I was out the door before he had even unbuckled his seat belt.

I threw my backpack on, slinging it over my shoulders, and rushed to our hotel room. I tossed the door open and leaned against the wall, catching my breath. God, that was nerve-wracking.

The brothers poked their heads out from the kitchen where they were organizing weapons on the kitchen table. Dean's eyes widened and then quickly narrowed, a million thoughts rushing through his head.

"I told you not to come!" he shouted just as John pushed the door open. "I told you to stay put! What if you had gotten hurt!?"

"Lay off, Dean," John said, dropping his own pack on the bed nearest the door. "She was just looking out for you, just as you would have done for her."

Dean was fuming and he raked his fingers through his hair angrily, giving it a slight tug. "She defied a direct order, dad!" I scoffed and pushed past him, shoving him lightly on the shoulder. Sam gave me a pitying glance as I threw my bag on the second bed and flopped into the other unoccupied kitchen chair.

"Sounds familiar," John retorted. "She must’ve gotten it from you."

I suppressed a chuckle, catching Sam's hazel eyes as he fought the urge as well. Dean sputtered and from this angle, I could see his ears flush a deep red. John's eyes flitted around the shabby room, taking the place in before landing on Sam. His eyes warmed and then clouded over with deep sadness and longing. I recognized that look. It was a regret.

"Sammy," he sighed and crossed the room to his youngest son, who stood from his chair to meet him. "Last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

"Yes, sir," Sam said, his eyes tearing up a bit. It surprised me to see Sam on the verge of tears. I knew they fought before Sam left for college, but I never knew what about or how bad. I felt it wasn't really my business, nor did Sam want to discuss it.

"It's good to see you again," John said, his own eyes moist. "It's been a long time."

"Too long," Sam added, gripping his shorter father in a tight hug like this was their last chance at rekindling their relationship.

In all honesty, it might have been. Not even a beat after the two separated, John was suddenly thrown across the room, his back hitting the cabinets roughly.

"No!" Dean screamed, rushing towards him before being tossed in the opposite direction like a limp rag.

"Dean!" I screamed. Sam rushed towards his father, who screamed as something tore into his chest.

I felt an icy sensation as something sunk into my back and shoulder and slid down my back. My back burned and I screamed, spinning and ripping the flesh more as whatever it was unhooked its claws from me. I could see the red seeping into my vision once more, but I shoved it back when I heard Dean scream my name and point toward his bag.

I lunged towards it and dragged it off the table, pulling it onto the floor and rifled through its contents. There had to be something in here that would produce enough light to ward these shadow demon things off.

I screamed again as I felt icy talons dig into the back of my thigh and suddenly I was being dragged backward on my stomach, pulling the bag with me. The thing tore into my leg, shredding whatever muscles and tendons it could reach while I tossed contents out of the bag.

Finally, my hand clenched around the familiar shape of a flare and I held the object high above my head as the Daeva ripped through my leg like a piece of paper. I screamed through clenched teeth as I uncapped the flare and tossed it on the ground.

The room filled with blistering white heat and the icy feeling in my leg was replaced with burning pain. My eyes swam with unshed tears. I wasn't sure if the blinding light or the pain was making me cry. My head lolled forward and I vaguely heard the brothers screaming around me.

My eyes struggled to focus on a bulky shape as it slipped toward the door. I blinked and grimaced in pain as I lay backward. My mangled shoulder hit the floor and I hollered in pain, lifting a hand to my mouth to suppress it.

Suddenly I was rising, a weight gently pushing into the undamaged areas of my back and another hooking under my knees. I curled into a ball against the chest of whoever had lifted me. Blood dripped onto my face and I had half a mind to look at where it was coming from – or rather, who it belonged to.

My rescuer coughed from the smoke of the brilliantly white flare. I clenched my eyes shut from the pain and the searing light. Suddenly, the cold air hit my exposed back and I whimpered, clutching tighter onto the swath of fabric under my palm.

"Dean!" I heard Sam shout and pound toward us. "Is she alright?"

"Fuck no, I'm not alright!" I shouted into Dean's shirt. "My leg looks like fucking spaghetti!"

Dean chuckled morbidly and set me down on the hood of the Impala on my stomach, keeping my mangled back and leg clear of the still warm metal. I pressed my elbows to the hood and attempted to prop myself up. He brushed my hair out of my face to get a good look at my feverish eyes and red complexion.

"At least you're alive," he offered weakly and rid himself of his jacket, exposing the brown flannel underneath and pressing it to my leg. I howled and gripped his arm, digging my nails into the soft flesh. "Keep pressure on that," he said before limping towards his brother and father.

"Come on, we don't have much time!" Sam shouted, wrenching one of the back doors of the Impala open and ushering his father inside. John didn't move. "As soon as that flare goes out, they'll be back!"

"Wait, wait. wait! Sam, hold on a second!" Dean shouted, gripping his father's arm to keep him steady. He looked forlornly towards John, a look of regret on his handsome, but bloody, features. "Dad can't come with us..."

"What!?" I screeched from the hood of the car, doing my best to turn and face the boys without causing any more damage. "You've spent months looking for this motherfucker, and now you're telling him to leave!?"

"Dean, what are you talking about!?" Sam demanded, tossing his arms in the air in frustration.

John sighed and pulled his arms from Dean's grasp. He shuffled away from the side of the Impala and walked along its edge to where I sat. "You all are beat to hell," he mumbled out, exhaustion written on his leathery features. He ran a calloused hand through his hair, matted with blood.

"We'll be alright," Dean stated reassuringly.

"Like hell, we are, Dean!" Sam shouted, floundering and dripping blood onto the roof of the car. "We need to stick together! We'll go after those demons-"

"Sam, listen to me!" Dean snapped, cutting his brother off. "We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop. They're gonna try again. They're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He- he's stronger without us around."

I flinched at the brutality of his words. My head swam with thoughts and profuse pain - wouldn't he be in just as much danger on his own?

I blinked and my head swam. When my eyes opened again, the edges of my vision were dark and out of focus. I blinked a few more times to refocus on the situation at hand. Focus on the pain after the job. My uncle used to say that a lot, especially when he came home from a rough hunt.

I remembered my first hunt with him – nothing special, just a wendigo that was rampaging through campsites in the Rockies. My hips had gotten cut up pretty bad – I had wanted to call it quits. I felt like I couldn't run, let alone shift and hunt the bastard down.

Focus on the pain later.

Do the job now.

Focus on the pain later.

When I opened my eyes, John was pressing a firm hand to my temple, stemming a flow of blood that I hadn't even realized was escaping. I blinked to clear my eyes and focus on his scruffy visage. His eyes held a certain earnesty and sadness in them. My ears were ringing as he spoke to me.

"Take care of my boys," he said, fear leaking into his voice. "They're all I've got left." I winced at the pounding in my skull and nodded. He smiled softly. "Your uncle would be proud of you."

And with that, he was gone, the only reminder of him being a warm feeling left on my cheek, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake.

—

"I can walk just fine on my own, asshat," I grumbled to a frustrated Sam. I gripped my crutches tightly as I made my way out the hospital door.

"Yeah right," Sam retorted, placing a large hand on my lower back to help guide me towards the car. "The doctors wanted you to stay overnight-"

"Yeah, and what are the doctors going to say when in two days they can't see their patient's bone anymore?" I glowered at Sam. The damage was bad, but not bad enough for me to stay around humans for this long. "I'll be going now, and I'm taking my exposed bone with me, thank you," I snapped as I did my best to shrug on Dean's now shredded coat. This had quickly become my favorite article of clothing, despite it being covered in blood and vomit, and now having deep slash marks down the back. I thought it gave it character.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, rumpling it. "Dean's not going to be happy when he sees what happened to his coat."

"Dean can suck my metaphorical dick," I hissed. "You said he doesn't wear it anymore anyway - why did he even have it?"

"He uses it for a pillow when we're driving."

"Guess he'll have to get a new pillow then," I said as I used my crutches to propel me forward and towards the Impala. "When is he getting out?"

"He said he'll be discharged in a few minutes," Sam replied as we stopped beside the car. He unlocked the Impala and opened the door for me. "He just has to pay the bill and then we're done."

"You mean some poor sap whose credit card you stole has to pay the bill?" I teased as I attempted to slide my crutches into the car and then sneak in beside them. I hissed as my ankle caught on the edge of the car and I fought to lift my leg without any more pain.

"You alright?" Sam asked from his place by the door.

"Yep, I'm fine," I hummed. "But are you OK? I mean... you didn't seem too happy about... everything..."

Sam laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, I'm fine. I get it, why dad had to leave again. I'm not happy about it, but I'm fine."

I opened my mouth to speak again but was interrupted by Dean limping towards us. "Oh, look who finally decided to show up!" I said, tossing my hands in the air. "And how come they didn't give you crutches!?"

"Because my leg doesn't look like it went through a blender," he sassed. "Listen, we need to get out of here before those Daevas come back. I want to be long gone before they show up here again."

Sam nodded and shut the door on me before sliding into the passenger's seat. I leaned forward and peaked over Sam's shoulder as Dean got into the car. "So where to?"

Dean spun in his seat and propped his elbow up on the back of his chair. He glared pointedly at me. "You are going home. Sam and I will probably rest up for a few days and then go back to hunting."

I frowned. "What, so I get shredded by shadow demons and you guys just toss me?"

Dean laughed. "I don't know what the hell they gave you for the pain, but I'm pretty sure it removed your filter."

"Shut it," I pouted, dropping back into my seat and crossing my arms over my chest. "In my defense, I feel like I just went through a blender. I think I'm allowed some sass, thank you."

"Save it for your family, Clifford," he said, earning a robust laugh from Sam. "You'll be home in..." he checked his watch, "I'd say thirteen or fourteen hours. You can gripe and complain all you want then."

"Or," I said, drawing out the word as I leaned forward, "I could harass you boys the whole way there. Maybe jump out of the car. After all, you guys put me in this situation."

"Woah, wait a minute!" said Dean, holding up a hand as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot. "Last I checked, I told you to stay put."

"Should have barricaded the door, Dean. You should know as well as anyone that I don't listen to anyone but myself."

Dean grumbled as Sam and I laughed, profusely teasing Dean until he finally hushed us by playing some music. Despite the pain in my leg and back, I couldn't help but be filled with joy. Again, I had succeeded in, to put it plainly, not dying while with the boys.

And better yet, I finally felt ready to see my pack again.

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xxmoonch1ldxx · 4 months

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UwU could you write an ianthony fic about them standing on that faithful balcony and Ian suggests buying Smosh? Then we hear Anthony's inner monologue bursting into actual speech, going on a long rant about how he's thought about it for months(years)(ever since or even before he quit lmao) and being SO excited? Ian being like, "chill, bruh". But loving it too. And they stay up talking way into the morning. Just being so excited and their friendship really clicking again. UWUUUUU that would be so wonderful UWUUUUUU

I am sorry as this is not my best work, but I tried to do this prompt justice 😌 Our boys deserve to be happy <3

_______________________

Ian felt a weird sense of déjà-vu as he gratefully accepted the beer that Anthony was handing him.

They were hanging out on Anthony's deck, the sun shining nicely on his skin and the wind slightly waving his curls left and right. Ian was hit with a wave of nostalgia about the young adult he had once lived with, them outside in their backyard and hanging out around a poorly-made campfire. Anthony always claimed that doing it old-style was better, trying to chaffe the rocks in vain until he would just bring paper and a lighter. It happened every time, and Ian never failed to laugh at his best friend.

He missed the young, stupid boy he had been best friends with. But then again, it was mostly nostalgia, because against all odds, he and Anthony were outside on his deck and laughing together just like they used to. This ‘new’ Anthony was different, sweeter but still as funny and hard-working. Ian didn’t hate this. He certainly didn’t hate going to dinner with him and talking with him until the sunrise, that same magic in the air that used to sweep them off their feet when they were younger.

Ian knew he had his best friend back and he couldn’t be more grateful for that. Still, there was something missing in his life.

A magic he hadn’t felt in over a decade when he stood inside the Smosh building. A magic he had bits of with his crew, but that could never quite compare.

Nobody truly did compare. And if Anthony had welcomed him inside yet again this month, was sharing a beer with him and laughing just as hard as he did when they were teenagers…

Maybe Ian could be brave. They did promise each other to be more open. The worst he could be told was no.

Or so, he hoped. But still.

“Hey, man…”

Anthony hummed. Ian's heart was in his throat.

“What if we…What if we bought back Smosh?”

Anthony's mouth fell agape for a second. His own heart was beating inside his chest so hard he wondered if he had hallucinated the words.

“Are you…Are you, like, for real?” He eventually asked after a moment of silence, his mind already overheating with thoughts.

For a long time, he had dreamed of buying back Smosh, owning their company back and being able to do what they truly wanted. In the last years, that was all he could think about, the only solution to not let their baby crash down. Yet, seeing as this was not possible, he had come to resent Smosh for a couple of years after he left. Telling himself that nostalgia was the only thing making him fond of those times, because truly, Smosh hadn't been what it was back when they started for a pretty long time. Anthony had this ache in his chest every time he saw the company he had created and especially the man with whom he had created it with.

Then, Anthony had stumbled upon a Smosh rabbit hole while scrolling on tiktok. Days where the only thing he did when he had free time was to look back at their old content, their sketches and the gaming videos. Days where he laughed genuinely at the antics he and his once-had-been best friend had imagined and done, days of intensely missing the man who had once been the most important person in his life.

Then, they had reconnected. Thanks to Diana, he had been able to sit next to Ian and freely talk to him, joke with him for what felt like a few mere seconds but had lasted hours. His chest had felt tight but light once had come back home, Ian's number in his phone and ideas spinning in his mind already.

They did not ease down the more time he and Ian spent together. All he could think about was the nights they spent writing and laughing until they couldn't breathe, the better and funnier stuff they could do together now that they were more mature. For the first time in what felt like forever, Anthony had this lightness in his chest at the mere idea of spending time with Ian, a permanent smile on his lips that reminded him so strongly of the magic they could create together back then. He had found his best friend again, and he wanted nothing more than to keep making him laugh and create with him until the wee hours of the morning.

“I mean, that was just an idea,” Ian answered quietly, fiddling with his fingers. There was a palpable anxiety in his tone, but it was earnest.

Ian wanted them to own Smosh again. Together.

They could do so many things. They could write sketches again! New, original sketches! And they could probably use a membership or something in order not to censor everything, and they could even reconstruct the old smosh house! The press-alike studio had tons of empty spaces Anthony knew he could use for that!

“Dude!” Anthony jumped up, his face lightening up with the biggest smile. “I was just thinking about this! I've thought about that for years, man, ever since we started losing control over our scripts. We could write new sketches! They'd be even funnier and better since we have more experience, and we could even use the rest of my studios for a new Smosh house, it'd be so cool! We could redo the CD wall, it looked so dope! And we could even launch new contents, I've got sooo many ideas, I've thought about it for months! And then we could use a membership or something to not get demonetized, you know, but I'm sure it'd work! Oh My God, imagine if we worked on a new Food Battle? It'd be so fun! We'd need to find a new food but I'm sure it could be dope, and we could even ask Ryan and Brian to participate! Oh! What if we made an announcement video and your mom was in it? That'd be so cool, dude!”

Ian's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he watched Anthony gesticulate and pace back and forth when he spoke. The train of his thoughts didn't seem to stop, and Ian wasn't even sure he understood everything he was saying, considering how fast Anthony was talking. Yet, the man looked overjoyed, excited in a way Ian hadn't seen in years. His eyes were shining with joy, something else delightful to watch come to life. Ian was having kind of a whiplash for a second; Anthony was in front of him, jumping with any idea that ran through his mind, his curls bouncing as he moved and his combat boots stomping on the ground echoing loudly.

He was like a little kid who had just been told he was going to Disney Land. A little kid with tattoos trailing up to his neck and heavy rings on his fingers.

Anthony might have changed, in the few years they were apart, but at his core, he was still the same. His smile still shined so bright the sun could be jealous, and his eyes still sparkled with an intensity Ian had never witnessed anybody else possess.

His chest felt heavy with feelings, with emotions.

“Holy shit, Anthony, chill,” Ian exclaimed. The expression painted on his face looked weirded out, but Anthony could see the little hopeful smile that stretched his lips.

“C'mon, dude, wouldn't that be soooo cool? We could do so many things! I even received an armory last week and I can't do anything with it, since I do interviews, but we could so use that in a sketch, it'd be so fucking dope!”

And there he was gone again, blabbering endlessly about ideas Ian was only half following. However, there was still that smile on his lips, one that could only grow as he felt Anthony's joy radiate in waves over him.

Anthony was right. All of that would be so cool. They could do so many cool things now that Ian was also excited about.

He had no idea how they would go on about this, or if their writing chemistry still really existed, but he believed in it. He was ready to try, ready to see what was possible and to fight to have his best friend back by his side. Ian was ready to try whatever he could do to make their vision come true, and even if he didn't know where he was going, he was fine with Anthony by his side. That was all he really needed.

“A new food battle would be pretty cool. But I'm not sure anything can beat my pink frosted donut, you should know that.”

Anthony gasped. “Excuse me? I've beat you like, three times. I could do it again.”

“Three times? Dude, you only won once. Don't be so delusional.”

Ian's laugh was cheerful, one that made Anthony's heart soar in that familiar way it did whenever they were together. God, he had missed that feeling.

“Okay, well, I could win this year. I'm sure. You don't know what I'm capable of!”

Ian thought that, indeed, there were still a few things he was unaware of when it came to this new version of his best friend. He was okay with that; they had all the time in the world to learn everything about each other again, to love and experiment. Ian was eager to know everything, already.

Eager enough to spend the entire night outside, throwing ideas left and right and laughing until they were rolling on the floor. And as the sun rose, Ian couldn't help but feel his heart fluttering in his chest. His best friend truly was back. They were going to own Smosh again, together against the world; or at least, that was what he hoped.

With Anthony by his side, nothing seemed impossible.

#smosh #anthony padilla #ian hecox #ianthony #🔎☀️#smosh fanfiction #ianthony fics

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i-did-not-mean-to · 11 months

Text

Happy Birthday, my dear

It's @cilil's birthday!!!! 🎂🎂🎂🎂

So, here is a little gift for you. Done by the incomparable @neldeathstar!!!

And, in the name of friendship, I've also written a very tiny thing! It's under the cut :)

Enjoy!

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔰: 1.1 k ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰: Mairon, Aiwendil, Eönwë 𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Sexual innuendo, Mairon is mean...

Mairon rolled his eyes—Eönwë and Aiwendil were not the audience he had expected or desired, but he needed to share his amazing experience with someone before he could burst with self-satisfied smugness, and he was too sated and content to ferret out Curumo or Ossë.

“Hello Mairon, how are you? You look…” Aiwendil faltered in his cheery greeting, his annoyingly huge, innocent eyes clouding over with something akin to dread and distrust. “You look different. Are you unwell?”

Look at that little fool, Mairon thought impatiently; he despised his fellow Maia for his sickening naïveté that was erroneously misconstrued and excused as genuine “sweetness” by most. Mairon knew the truth though, Aiwendil was nothing but a stupid dreamer who would never amount to much if he didn’t stop aimlessly horsing around with the most feeble and neglectable of Yavanna’s creations.

“Do we go to the library then?” Eönwë asked hopefully, his usually so placid face lighting up with anticipation.

Why that one wanted to go to the library didn’t make sense to Mairon either—Eönwë was a good fighter and a disgustingly faithful servant, but he’d never be the one to pen anything of importance. No, it was clear that he was destined to merely carry, defend, and deliver messages—not to write them.

“Ah, I am so sorry,” Mairon said softly, schooling his face into a convincing expression of contrition and prudish embarrassment that would be shattered only too soon by his carefully planned and rehearsed revelation.

Indeed, their vacant faces fell in disappointment and unveiled worry almost instantly.

Mairon drew himself up to his full height, ready to strike, and promptly informed them of his exciting and illicit meeting with Melkor in the forge in melting, sensual accents.

He had expected outrage, shock, envy, or even anger, but all he got were two blank stares of incomprehension. They even had the gall to cock their heads like puzzled birds—how Mairon wanted to wring their necks for having ruined his moment of breath-taking triumph by their profound and utterly maddening stupidity.

One, two, three—Mairon counted the moments in his wickedly sharp mind until any of the two would finally fully comprehend what he had just told them.

“Oh no,” Eönwë cried out in what seemed to be genuine alarm; he expressed his sincere commiseration and even gave special emphasis to the undeniable evil inherent to all of Melkor’s doings. Maybe, Mairon reflected, he only said so because of Aiwendil who kept staring at him with questioning cow eyes.

Ire—hot and punitive—flared within Mairon’s chest; he was named “the Admirable” but that alone wasn’t worth much when there was nobody around who was sensible and enlightened enough to actually admire him for his daring and cunning.

Indeed, he himself was rather proud of the way he had ventured into a passionate, mind-altering, and world-shattering relationship with the mightiest of the Valar—after all, their seduction had been mutual and all-encompassing. Mairon relished the lingering burning sensation rippling through his fána with every move, and he certainly would not accept pity when he had expected awe!

Letting his smile melt like warm honey, he turned his sweetest, most innocent face to the two woeful imbeciles who were still waiting for him to accept their well-wishes and expressions of foolish sympathy.

“Oh yeah…” Mairon sighed mellifluously. “His dick is evil…big.”

This time, Eönwë was quicker to catch on—he gasped audibly and sputtered his peer’s name in a forbidding, scolding tone that was but a cheap imitation and a pathetic echo of Manwë’s thundering eloquence.

“What?” Aiwendil looked back and forth between the other two, his vague gaze sharpening into an expression of bewildered distress.

Mairon made a rather crude gesture at the height of his own shapely behind that had Eönwë choking on his own tongue but only served to perplex Aiwendil even further.

“A dick? He has a tail?” Aiwendil asked, evidently just as eager to understand as he was incapable of grasping even the most essential mechanics of what they were so circuitously discussing—at least, Ossë would have challenged or even mocked him! Nothing was worse than the benign but utterly fatuous and vacant gleam of the insipidly handsome faces turned towards him like beacons of purity.

“Ugh, I wanted it. I welcomed his attentions!” Mairon groaned; he could hardly believe that he had to spell it out for them.

Silence fell like a stifling blanket over the bright meadow they had convened in.

“What exactly?” Aiwendil inquired shyly, his eyes darting nervously between Eönwë and Mairon—he could tell that he was a nuisance and was visibly afraid of being reprimanded or sent away.

“I am not going to draw you a graphic,” Mairon hissed, tossing back his hair and glowering at the young Maia with unadulterated loathing. “Suffice it to say that the forges were not the only thing that was burning bright. Oh, the things he does to me and I to him. We are so well matched—you can’t even imagine the pleasures we share.”

He held up his hand before Aiwendil could stutter some nonsense about walks in nature or tending to some foul-smelling beast; his body moved in suggestive undulation, mimicking the throes of lascivious passion he had engaged in before joining these two knuckleheads.

“They were dancing?” Aiwendil asked Eönwë in a muted voice.

“No, little one,” Eönwë sighed. “Mairon here has let himself be corrupted and tainted by the power of evil.”

“Ah, don’t be such a hypocrite!” Fire flared within Mairon’s eyes, and he wished that he had brought any of his tools to put Eönwë’s famed prowess in battle to the test. “He’s no better and no worse than his brother. Only because you have not had the guts or the charm to get anywhere with Manwë, you don’t need to take your envies and frustrations out on me.”

That accusation was so outrageous that it knocked the wind clean out of Eönwë’s mighty lungs—he merely stared, mouth agape, at the vision of flickering light and unbridled anger in front of him. More than ever, Mairon wanted to batter him senseless, but he held back and only bared his sharp teeth to give vent to his sombre, dangerous feelings.

“I would never…” Eönwë stammered, his cheeks colouring with the heat of embarrassment and something darker and much more shameful.

“Yes,” Mairon grinned sharply, “and that might just be your problem. Either way, I am too wrung out to go to the library and look at dusty tomes with the likes of you. See you later.”

“Why doesn’t he go to Estë if he’s in pain?” Aiwendil muttered, confused, as they saw Mairon limping away from them with as much dignity as he could muster.

“I am afraid,” Eönwë replied, settling a heavy but comforting hand on the slender shoulder of his companion, “that he has grown to like the burn.”

Once again, I wish you only the best for your birthday and good luck for tonight!!!

Lots of love from me, as always!!!

Hoch sollst du leben...an der Decke kleben and so on and so forth! Love you!!!

#og post #art #writing #Mairon #Aiwendil #Eönwë #Angbang #commission #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #tolkien writing #jrrt

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iaintlithuanian · 1 year

Text

You could draw anything, so why me?|| Xavier Thorpe x reader

Summary: you often catch Xavier looking at you when drawing in his sketch book, it confused you to say the least. So, when one day he left his sketch book in class, surprisingly, you decided that a small peek wouldn’t hurt. What you found intrigued you. That’s when Xavier walked in to retrieve his precious sketchbook.

Warnings: none :)

Master list

—————————————————————

Lately, you had been catching Xavier glancing at you and then scribbling in his sketchbook. You were curio use as to why but you weren’t going to investigate as it didn’t bother you and you hadn’t really spoke to him much, and being an introvert you didn’t really feel like starting up a conversation.

Today you had a couple lessons with Xavier but this was the last of the day, botanical science, ms. Thornhill’s class. You entered the class and sat in your seat, right behind Xavier Thorpe. Class was boring, you just doodled along the margine of your book and took a few important notes, you had planned to stay back and ask ms. Thornhill about helping out with the Rave’N. So when class ended everyone packed away their stuff and left, you stayed behind and walked up to the red headed woman. “Ms. Thornhill?” You asked, feeling as though you had been a little too quiet, but she had heard you anyways.

“Yes, y/n?” She asked, smiling sweetly. It looked sort of fake, but you just guessed that every teacher did that anyways and brushed it off.

“I was just wondering if you needed any extra help with planing and sorting out the Rave’N.” You smiled, and she returned the gesture. “I don’t have any plans at the moment and want to keep myself busy” you explained.

“ well, I can’t think of anything off the top of my head but I’ll get back to you on the offer!” She exclaimed, then she looked like she had just got an idea. “But if you’d like to keep yourself busy at the moment, why don’t you water the plants and give them some fertilizar, i dont have time and haven’t done it today.” She suggested, explaining what You should do aster you gave a small nod. She left the room afterwards leaving the key for you to lock the door afterwards. Of course you would have to give that back later though.

You had got through caring for all the plants when something fought your eye on a desk. Xavier’s sketchbook. ‘We’ll it wouldn’t hurt to look a little’ you thought, reaching for the book. You flipped through the pages, amazed at his artistic talent even though you knew he was good. Suddenly you spotted a drawing of you, holding a bow and arrow getting ready to shoot. Then another, you were sitting on a table in the library, earphones in your ears and reading a book. Another, another, another. There must have been at least 8 drawings, all with perfect details. They looked exactly like you.

Suddenly you heard someone clear their throat. Startled, you quickly closed the book, looking up and seeing the artist himself, awkwardly looking at you. “Um, could I have that back please?” He questioned, clearly nervous. He must have been hoping you hadn’t got to the drawing of you yet.

You nodded handing the book back to him. “Your drawings are amazing, you really do have a talent” you smiled, trying to be nice and hiding your embarrassment at the same time. “I do have a question tho” you continued, having a suden burst of courage to confront him about the drawings of you. He looked puzzled and nodded his head slowly, smiling back at me awkwardly. “You could draw anything you like with just a glance” you started, cocking your head to the side slightly. He nodded, chuckling at the compliment. “But why is your subject always me?” You asked, genuinely intrigued. But slowly you began to feel shy and regretted asking as he just looked at you, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

“Well-I-I- uhm.. you see-” he stuttered, trying to look for the right words. “Look, y/n…” he began, gulping and continuing. “I..I like you, okay? And I know it’s weird to just draw you but it’s just how I get my feelings out” he rambled on, confessing his feelings to you. Your cheeks flushed and you began to feel insecure. What if this was a prank? To embarrass you if you said yes? ‘I mean who would like me?’ You thought.

“Why would you like me?” You thought out loud, and he looked at you confused. “Seriously, why would you?” You repeated. “I’m way too quiet, I’m definitely not a attractive girl, and have no talents! And my special ability is just water bending, I’m no one special. I’m just..well, me” you rambled, explaining why you weren’t likeable. You was scared, really, you thought that maybe if you name the obvious he would see it and stop liking you.

“ what do you mean?” He questioned, he seemed a little agitated. He walked over to you and put his hands on your shoulders, looking you straight in the eye. “I love that your quiet, at least you dont go around bad mouthing people, being mean and gossiping like other girls, also, you are one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen!” He half yelled, trying to get all the information through t to you. “And ive heard you singing to yourself out in the quad, granted it is quiet, but I heard it, and you have an absolutely amazing voice! And your ability is awesome!. But your were right about one thing” he said, his voice getting softer. You raised an eyebrow.

“What?” You asked.

“You are just you”he said. “But I love that about you!you aren’t like everyone and you don’t try to be like them! I love you for you.” He confessed. And you just looked into his eyes. Butterfly’s fluttering around in your stomach.

“Thank you” you whispered before crashing your lips into his. He kissed back almost immediately. Your arms snaked around his neck. As his made their way to your waist. The kiss was passionate and loving. You pulled back and took a deep breath. “Thank you” you repeated.

He pulled you into his chest and swayed you back and forth slightly. “So, would you like to got the the rave’N with me?” He asked. You giggled at his question.

“Ofcourse” you said, and he kissed your fore head.

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #wednesday #the addams family #x reader #fluff #xavier fluff

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otaku-bell-livemotto · 1 year

Text

Steve drove for a while after ditching Tommy and Carol.

He should have realized saying that shit about Nancy and Jonathan wasn't okay. He shouldn't have let his anger get the best of him. He acted like his dad and the more Steve thought about it, the more obvious it was that Tommy and Carol had always encouraged him to behave like that. They constantly were egging him on, making him angrier and angrier until he lashed out.

He didn't want to lash out. He didn't want his so-called friends to encourage that shit. He used to be kinder, gentle. He used to be more like his mom.

It was that thought that made Steve pull over. He couldn't really see the road anymore, his vision completely blurred both by tears and the shiner Jonathan gave him. Steve couldn't remember the last time he cried like this; tears streaming down his cheeks, snot dripping from his nose, his breath growing quicker and more panicked. He felt like he was drowning.

Then someone knocked on his window and scared the shit out of him.

He turned his head to look at the intruder, hastily wiping the tears from his eyes only to wince when he accidentally touched his bruised face. It was some girl he vaguely recognized. They probably went to school together. He thought she might be in band, but he had no way of knowing unless he actually asked her. Then again, that might make the fact that she was an apparent witness to his emotional breakdown even worse. God, he did not need rumors of "Crybaby Steve" circulating the school, especially after his fallout with Tommy and Carol. Desperately trying to calm his breathing, with varying degrees of success, Steve rolled his window down.

"Can I-- Can I help you?"

His voice cracking nearly sent him spiraling again, tears welling up once more.

"Is there a reason you picked my front lawn to shatter to pieces or am I just that lucky?"

He couldn't tell if it was the bluntness of her words, the deadpan delivery, or just the fact that she had the audacity to joke about the whole thing. Whatever it was, Steve burst out laughing. He sounded hysterical to his own ears, but it was a hell of a lot better than crying. He tried to reign himself in when she started looking nervous, but he could only taper his cackling down into breathy giggles.

"S-sorry. I don't know why-y I'm l-laughing."

The girl snorted at him, shaking her head in exasperation that seemed both irritated and fond.

"That's fine. We'll start with something easy. Why are you on my lawn?"

Steve glanced away from her and out the window and, sure enough, his car was halfway on her lawn. He turned back to her, sheepish.

"I, uh, I couldn't see the road. Sorry."

She blinked for a few moments, her expression betraying nothing on how she was feeling. There were a few instances where she looked like she was going to say something and decided against it. To say the least, her silence made Steve increasingly nervous.

"Do you want to sit on the grass for a bit?"

She seemed hesitant to make such an offer, but he could tell it was genuine nonetheless.

"Yeah."

So they sat on her lawn.

They sat on her lawn for hours. Talking, tearing up bits of grass and throwing them at each other, just simply existing in the moment. It was the most calm Steve had felt since he started high school.

"I'm worried that I went too far. That it won't matter if I apologize to them or not."

"It doesn't matter if they forgive you or not. It's important that they know you are aware that you fucked up. Acknowledge that you were in the wrong and don't want to make that same mistake. It sucks, but it's what you have to do if you wanna make it right."

"Yeah. Thanks Robin. You're really cool."

"That's quite the complement coming from The Hair."

Steve groaned, knowing full well what that nickname indicated. He laid back on the grass, gaze fixed on the darkening sky.

"Hey Robin?"

"Yeah Steve?"

"Would you maybe want to be friends? I don't really have any real ones."

And what a depressing thought that was. It was true, though. Tommy and Carol have never been real friends, not in the way he needed them to be. The closest thing he had was Nancy and look at how that turned out so far.

"Are you for real?"

Robin sounded bewildered and it made Steve wonder how isolated he made himself out to be that anyone would question why he might want to befriend them. God, popularity ruined him.

"Yes?"

Now he was anxious that Robin was only humoring him. Of course she wouldn't want to be friends with him. He was a complete loser, just like his dad always said.

"Okay. Yeah. We can be friends, Steve."

The warmth that spread through Steve was lightning fast. It felt almost as good as when Nancy would sneak away with him to make-out at school. Maybe even better.

"Cool. Thanks, uh, for all of this. I didn't mean to just kind of dump my shit on your lap, but I'm glad we met. Yeah. Anyway, I've got apologies to make. I'll see you later?"

He glanced at her from the side, a shy grin taking over his face. She smiled back and gave him a playful shove.

"See you later, Harrington. Tell me how it goes!"

Steve rushed back to his car, determination settling in his gut. He'd apologize to Jonathan first. It was only right.

***

Robin wouldn't go as far as to say that she was worried, but she was definitely curious. A tad concerned maybe. It was just that Steve hadn't been to class for the last three days. Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers hadn't either and perhaps that was why Robin found herself anxious. After all, Barb Holland and Will Byers went missing recently. Who's to say the same thing couldn't have happened to those three?

Robin smacked her cheeks a few times. There was no sense in getting worked up by worst case scenarios. She'd get the facts, one way or another, even if it meant venturing all the way to Loch Nora to find Steve.

That plan turned out to be wholly unnecessary because Steve walked into class right as she had that thought. He looked a little twitchy, his eyes flicking across the classroom like they anticipated danger. It wasn't long before he clocked Robin. She waved and the smile that blossomed on his face was so bright she thought she was going to need sunglasses.

He went straight for his seat right in front of hers and immediately situated himself so that he was facing her.

"Hey Robin!"

"Hey yourself! Did everything go okay? I haven't seen you in class."

He studied his hands for a moment, a distant look passing through his eyes like he was remembering something, before he smiled ruefully at her.

"Yeah. Everything went okay. I would've come in yesterday, but my mom wanted me to rest at home. Wasn't feeling too good. I'm here now though! Ready to actually pay attention for once."

Robin snorted right as their English teacher entered the classroom. Steve spun around quickly to face the front, but every so often he turn his head halfway toward hers and make faces at her. She shoved him every time, a smile playing across her face.

Steve Harrington was a wild card, but Robin had a gut feeling that they'd be good for each other.

***

Happy Platonic Stobin Month! I have no idea how much I'm actually going to participate, but I did write this thing! So I hope y'all enjoy! (Prompts 1 & 20: Alternate Meeting/1983)

#stranger things #platonic with a capital p #platonic stobin #stobin month #my writing

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