road curves

Heathens - Smut - [dumbass-stilinski]

A Scruffy Hoes Production  ©

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Void/Reader
Words: 3,363

Warning: PLEASE READ THIS FIRST:
This fic contains some rough type shit. This is borderline Non Con and also there’s blood and death. This is meant to be fucked up, so beware.

AN: Happy Halloween from me and the rest of the Scruffy Hoes! Welcome to another group fic where a bunch of us wrote the same pairing with the same title and a similar theme! Enjoy my lovelies!! xoxox



He was evil, but he was beautiful, with the face of the boy you’d loved for as long as you could remember. You watched him through the rearview mirror as he drove, the tape holding your lips shut pulling at your skin. You were bound in the backseat of the jeep as Void drove you God knows where. Your skin was raw around your wrists and ankles, the rope he’d used to tie you up rubbing against it uncomfortably. He glanced into the mirror, his eyes red rimmed and bruised purple, lips chapped and curled into a smirk.

“You’re probably wondering where I’m taking you.”

You just stared back at him, unable to reply.

“You’ll see soon enough. I think you’ll like it.”

You grunted in response, huffing and sitting back. Struggling wasn’t going to get you anywhere.

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At 9 my life was a straight road
A highway with no turns
At 11 my life could have flowed
A people misguided me despite my yearns
At 16 I found a second road
A strange path but on the same terms
But then the road curved
It turned to a river
Eroding these walls
Allowing me to see clearer
— 

Just another queer poem

originally written about my sexuality and gender, if anyone has any other interpretations, just comment them :)  

El xx

Broken Leg, Broken Heart

Requested

______________________________________________________________

The rain had made the road slick.

The curve was known for being an accident magnet.

Your brothers had warned you to not get on the motorcycle again and again.

You saw the tree, rushing toward you faster than it should have. You felt your body collide and then… nothing.

You vaguely recognized the flash of red and blue as the EMTs loaded you onto the stretcher.

“Ma’am, can you hear me?”

Your eyelids fluttered, unconsciousness drawing you under again.

It wasn’t until there was a tickling, a prickling, and then an outright shot of pain radiating through your body that you woke up. The room was bright– too bright.

“Dean.”

You turned your head just in time to see two sets of eyes staring down at you—a green set and a hazel set. “Wh…what are you doing here?”

“Oh, thank god,” Dean said, diving down and wrapping his arms around your neck.

“Ow,” you moaned, a rush of pain washing over you as your body was jostled.

“I don’t care,” Dean said. “I thought we were gonna lose you. You’ll deal with this for a second.”

“Dean, she was in a terrible accident. Give her a break.”

Dean reluctantly let go, only to be pushed aside and have his position taken by Sam.

“Easy,” you groaned.

Sam pulled back, staring down at you. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a truck.”

“Almost.”

“What happened?”

“You didn’t listen to us, that’s what happened!” Dean said.

“I never listen to you.”

“And usually we can be there to clean up your mess. But this time–”

“Dean,” Sam warned. He turned back to you. “Y/N, what do you remember?”

Thinking hurt, but you tried to go back. “I remember… we had a hunt…”

“That was four days ago,” Dean muttered.

“And we got home…”

Sam nodded, waiting, hoping you’d remember something else.

“And then… Charlie…”

“That son of a bitch,” Dean growled.

“Where’s Charlie?” you asked, suddenly afraid. “Where is he?”

“He’s down the hall,” Sam assured you.

“We… we got in an accident… didn’t we?”

Sam nodded. “He lost control on the curve. You were thrown from the motorcycle and hit a tree.”

“That explains the pain.”

“You could have been killed!” Dean said, pushing his brother aside. “Dammit, Y/N, how many times have we told you not to go on that deathtrap?”

“Dean,”

“No, I’m serious. You know that guy is bad news. We ran his background check, for crying out loud.”

“And didn’t find anything!” Your burst of anger made your chest hurt; you sank back against the pillow in defeat.

“But he’s still a terrible person! And he drives too damn fast on that thing.”

You wanted to argue but you were overwhelmed by the realization that you could have died. The worry you saw on both of your brothers’ faces and the pain ebbing through your body…

Whatever guardian angel was on your side had certainly done their duty.

But would they next time?

______________________________________________________________

Your crutches clicked through the halls of the bunker.

“Y/N?” Sam said, poking his head out of his room. “You okay? You need something?”

“I’m fine, Sam.”

“Where are you going?”

“Kitchen.”

“I’ll come with.”

“No, Sam.” You tried to give him a smile. “Please. I’m fine.”

Sam looked like he wanted to argue, but he nodded and watched as you made your (slow but steady) way down the hall.

“Y/N?” Dean called as you passed by the library. “You good? What’s wrong?”

“Dammit, can’t a girl walk down the hall without everyone flipping shit?”

You made your way into the kitchen, standing before a cabinet. None of the snacks stood out to you as extremely delicious, but you pulled down a bag of chips. You sat at the table and nibbled on the snack, fighting back tears.

“What’s wrong?”

You looked up, startled. “Cas, what are you doing?”

“How are your injuries?” Cas said, squinting slightly. You felt self-conscious about the softening bruise around your eye.

“Fine, Cas.”

“You’re in pain.”

“Only a little.”

“You’re also… sad.”

Your eyes flicked up, finding Cas’ staring right into them. “It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not.”

You swallowed, throat and eyes burning.

“What’s wrong?” the angel asked again, gentler this time.

“It’s Charlie.”

“Your boyfriend. Have his injuries worsened?”

“No. And he’s not my boyfriend. At least, not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

You pulled your phone from your pocket, showing the messages to Cas. A number of them in a row were from you, asking if he was okay, asking him to answer, begging him to answer.

And then today, almost a week after the accident, there was a response.

We’re done.

“He… broke up with you?”

You nodded. “Apparently the accident knocked loose the screw in his head that made him think I was okay to be with.”

“That son of a bitch!”

You and Cas turned, finding your brothers peeking around the doorframe.

“Way to go, Dean,” Sam scoffed, stepping into the kitchen.

“How long have you two been out there?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” Dean said. “Now, are you seriously telling me that that jerkwad broke up with you after nearly killing you?”

Cas handed over your phone, the brothers examining the messages.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Dean said. “Nobody does that to my baby sister. Nobody!”

“Dean, calm down,” you said with a sniff. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah, it is.” You stood, your brothers reaching out to steady you. “Look… you were right. He’s a shitty guy. This proves it.”

Your brothers wrapped their arms around you, trying to give you some sense of comfort.

“Um, guys? My ribs are still killing me. I love you, but can we not with the squeezing?”

Hitched (5/11)

a Captain Swan AU fan fiction

Summary:  After a series of events leave her life in pieces, Emma Swan finds herself hitchhiking out of Maine, her wallet empty and her heart broken. The best she hopes for is a driver who isn’t a pervert and takes her far away from the painful memories of Storeybrooke. But when she finds a ride with a quiet truck driver named Jones, Emma discovers that maybe a trustworthy friend is all she needs.

Rating: M or MA; some profanity and sex scenes.

Cover art: created by the absolutely fabulous @thesschesthair!!

Links: ff.net // ao3 // ch. 1 //  ch. 2 // ch. 3 // ch. 4 // ch. 6 // ch. 7 // ch. 8 // ch. 9 // ch. 10 // epilogue

(also @teamhook, @like-waves-on-the-beach, @lenfaz and @followbatb, thank you thank you thank you for reading and requesting tags!)

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CHAPTER FIVE

The light faded from the southwestern sky with the setting of the sun, and the cab grew dark once more as they zipped into the western half of Pennsylvania. Emma finished her favorite old book just in time; the moon had begun to rise against a pale blue sunset when she closed the pages, smiling absurdly at the happy ending she had fully known was coming.

Jones, meanwhile, had quietly turned on a public radio station and was listening to the news. Emma reached down to tuck the book back into her bag and shifted to comfortably lean against the window. They had briefly passed through part of the Appalachian mountains, where snow-dotted hills soared above a freeway cradled in the valleys and folds of the range. She had been through the southern Rockies more than once, and had seen pictures of the Alps, but even knowing there were bigger mountains out there she still found herself comforted and slightly awed by the long, uninhabited stretches of trees marching up and down into the horizon.

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I’ve always been entranced by life’s winding roads: they way they curve upwards and downwards, sometimes simultaneously, and always unexpectedly. while it’s easy to fall into thoughts of confusion and bitterness about the transience of things, it’s liberating to hold a sense of gratitude about them instead. 

ultimately. there’s something meaningful about the way things don’t stay. maybe it’s because, paradoxically, those same things often linger, taking root within us and becoming part of us.