For Ash’s 2k writing challenge! As you can probably guess by the title, I chose the
bubble bath prompt. I hope you all enjoy reading it, and let me know what you
think! Also, I’m not sure why on some, the “keep reading” thing isn’t visible. So if you can’t see it, just go to my blog. The full post is there. 😉
Summary: Negan has been
stressed out lately, so you decide to give him a night of relaxation… ;)
Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Swearing,
Negan & You
Living at the sanctuary was usually great.
Most everyone here got along pretty well, with the exception of a few
ungrateful workers. As one of Negan’s wives, you had no right to complain. Life
was pretty much as great as it could be, given the circumstances. Negan and the
Saviors had found you in the woods one day, half out of your mind and very
sick. They brought you back, gave you a place to stay, food, medicine, and
well, exactly what it’s called. They gave you a sanctuary.
Summary: Dean Winchester doesn’t think he can fall in love. But every time he thinks of the way he’s around her, the way she makes him smile even in the darkest of days, he starts to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’s wrong.
Characters: Dean Winchester x reader
Word count: 2315
Warnings: Hmmm. Like the tiniest bit of angst. Drinking as a coping mechanism (not healthy, but this is Dean we’re talking about, so, you know…). And fluff, guys. So much fluff.
Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @supernatural-jackles Jen’s SPN Birthday Challenge. My sweetest friend, Jen, happy birthday (even if I’m a few days early) and thank you so much for letting me participate. I loved working on this one.
My prompt for this was a gif that’s inserted into the fic. The story is very much based on Chris Stapleton’s Tennessee Whiskey (which is the most amazing song ever and has Dean’s name all over it *cough* the glorious Jensen Ackles has covered that song and it’s a dream*cough*)
Special thank you to my twin @ravengirl94 because she is the best best-friend and writing guru in the world (and because she kept me sane these past few weeks). You’re the best, twin.
Thank y’all for bearing with me. Enjoy <3
had always liked bars.
He liked the way
they looked, deep mahogany booths and age-speckled lights making him feel at
home in places that had seen their fair share of stories, the way that distinct
scent of cigarette smoke and aged whiskey clung to his clothes afterwards, like
it was a piece of him.
He liked the inverted
bottles that were pressed along the walls, the beer and the whiskey and the
bourbon, and the way it burnt down his throat and made him feel something, anything, on those nights he was far
too numb and far too broken to believe he was alive in the first place.
used to be Dean’s poison and fuel anyway; it cleansed the impure parts of him and kept
him going when he felt like there wasn’t much to keep going for.
And then she came along.
Y/N waltzed into
his life years ago, when she’d shakily shot the werewolf that had kidnapped her
right in the heart, and, ever since that day, she’d somehow managed to wove
herself deep into the fabric of his existence.
The wonderful orenjimaru (I put a link because it refuses to tag) drew a fabulous piece with Jack and Gabriel on TumblrandTwitter!
Which inspired me to write this:
Gabriel visited the one Angela called ‘Jack’ every time he was at the watchpoint.
It had taken her weeks to relent and let him inside, she thought his intentions malicious, but that was to be expected. A cancer was growing inside of Overwatch and it was Gabriel’s job to snuff it out. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t at the top of the list in ‘persons of interest’.
The first time he visited, it was for a routine check-up and the large, bubbling tube of green liquid caught his eye from the exam room. He had migrated to it like a bug to a light, booted footsteps heavy against Angela’s tile floor.
Keith blinked incredulously at the boy in his arms before hearing the roar of multiple lions landing in the tall grass outside. Three pairs of feet pounded into the lab and stopped cold at the sight of their teammates huddled on the floor.
“Are you guys alright? What’s wrong?” Hunk fretted. Keith lifted Lance to his feet and couldn’t help but join in the chorus of gasps. Lance stood a solid foot shorter than normal, and his clothes hung off his prepubescent frame. “He’s… younger?” Hunk echoed what everyone was thinking. They all jumped when Lance began to speak.
“Ay dios! ¿Qué quieres?” He began spouting what sounded like gibberish, backing away from Keith.
It suddenly clicked in Pidge’s brain, and she turned to the other paladins excitedly. “It’s Spanish!” They all stared at her in confusion, and she explained with a hint of irritation. “Something here caused Lance to revert, body and mind, to a younger version of himself that obviously didn’t know English yet. He came from Cuba, right?” She adjusted her glasses, continuing, “The only question is, how old is he now?”
“I, uh, actually have another question,” Hunk interjected. “Where did he go?” The team looked at the now empty spot where the tween had been last, but a crash caused them to whirl around and see a terrified Lance dashing out another hole in the wall opposite the one Keith and him entered through, glass shimmering at his feet. Keith began to run, but Shiro stopped him with an arm.
“If we go after him, we might scare him,” he explained. “We need to figure out a way to approach him. Does anyone here know any Spanish?” He was met with blank looks. “Maybe not. Okay, let’s just take it slow; Pidge and Keith, stay here and figure out what changed Lance while Hunk and I go find him.”
Shiro and Hunk ran into the jungle, and Pidge looked at Keith with an accusatory expression. “What actually happened?” Keith avoided her glare guiltily. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Pidge narrowed her eyes, and he gave in, picking up the beaker that started it all. “He found this full of some weird juice, and I fell for his stupidity,” he mumbled.
The green paladin snorted, ruffling through a stack of nearby documents. “Pretty sure you did that a long time ago.” Keith was about to question what she meant when she held up a yellowed scroll triumphantly. “Is this what is was? The beaker shapes match.” He studied the paper before nodding, recognizing the blue liquid depicted in the drawing. “Do you know what it says?”
Pidge whipped out a small orange device and scanned the parchment. “It’s the language of a species that died out several decapheebs ago. Liorug, Ye Lior Piqn. Liorug, the Life Liquid.” Her eyes widened, and her gaze shifted to the red paladin. “Keith,” she whispered.
“We may have just discovered the secret to immortality.”