#anyways happy bday grandpa!

[mydearzero]

bday sex w/ spencer?

thanks for the request! ♡♡

Hunger | Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Penelope has decided enough is enough and throws Spencer a small birthday celebration. Your only duty was to pick up the cake. How could you have known the bakery would give you the wrong one? It's the first time you notice something off about Spencer. He has this look in his eyes you couldn't place, nor shake.

Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, friends to lovers, smut, oral sex (f rec), fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, fluffy really, If I missed any warnings please tell me!

3.7K words

take a shot every time I say 'look'. This is also the second fic in a row where I mention he keeps his socks on during sex. idk why. he just seems the type, I suppose. it wasn't a conscious choice I made, it just happened - nik

"And you're picking up the cake, right?" Penelope's voice flooded through the speakers of your car. You chuckled at her frantic behaviour. 

"Yes, Penelope. I'm on my way to Spencer's now. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it." 

After Spencer hadn't properly celebrated his birthday several years in a row, she insisted on throwing him a small party. She'd dragged you along in her shenanigans. 

Which is why there was currently a nondescript white box on the passenger seat of your car. You hadn't dared to open it, even to have a peek. Penelope would have your head if it spoiled in any way.

"Don't you dare drop it! I mean it!" She hung up after her empty threat. 

You drove into the parking garage and got out of the car. You walked around and picked up the cake with the utmost care, placing it on the roof and closing the door. You held the cake with both hands and took it to the apartment building. 

Penelope met you at the door, taking the box from your hands, putting it in the fridge and ushering you to 'Go sit somewhere and act normal!' 

"Calm down, Garcia. Derek's keeping him until at least 19:30. You'll be fine," JJ interjected. You turned to her, sharing a knowing look. If there was anything to love about Penelope, and believe me, there was a lot, then it was her complete devotion and commitment to make her friends happy. 

She got everything ready in the living room. Balloons, garlands, presents, the entire childhood dream. Derek gave Garcia a heads-up that they were bound to arrive any minute now. 

You walked into the kitchen and got the cake out of the fridge. You grabbed some plates, forks and knives and took everything to the living room. 

Spencer wasn't an idiot. He knew when Morgan was holding him hostage from his own apartment, his coworkers must've been planning something for his birthday. 

"Oh, I wonder what we'll find when we open the door," Spencer's joking voice could be heard through the door. The sound of keys entering the lock brought a large smile to your face. 

When he finally got to walk in the door, his suspicions were confirmed. 

The duo joined everybody eagerly awaiting the birthday boy. Penelope looked like she could implode from the excitement. You were sure that if you had enhanced vision, you'd be able to see her vibrate on the spot.

"Surprise!" 

Spencer was grinning from ear to ear. Derek clapped him on the back and guided him into the group. 

Penelope sat Spencer on the grandpa chair she'd situated in the middle of the room, placing a party hat on his head. She'd insisted on them. Even Hotch could not look stoic and rigid with the polka-dotted cone placed on his head. 

You walked from the commotion to go put the candles on the cake. You opened the candles, looked for the lighter and finally breached the seal on the white box holding the cake. The sight before you had you perplexed.

Happy Birthday Sexy!

Right. The hot pink cake with white frosting was most certainly not the one intended for Spencer. You let out an uneasy laugh and placed the candles anyway. Cake is cake, I guess. 

And it's not wrong. 

You lit the candles and walked over just as the others started belting their hearts out. Spencer cringed awkwardly like you're supposed to when people sing you Happy Birthday. You sought panicked eye contact with Penelope but to no avail. She was busy snapping pictures of the birthday boy from every angle. 

Spencer locked eyes with you as you set the cake down in front of him. Derek barked a laugh, obviously the first one to notice the mishap. "Way to be bold, mama!" 

Spencer gave him a confused glance before turning his eyes to the cake, mouth opening and closing a couple of times due to a loss of words. 

"Well, they do say "Aging like fine wine' for a reason," Emily snorted.

"What!? That's not the right cake!" Penelope exclaimed, turning to you. You gave her an apologetic expression, shrugging your shoulders. 

"They must've given me the wrong one at the bakery! I didn't want to mess it up, so I left the box closed. I'm sorry, Penelope. But hey, I'm sure it'll taste just fine." 

You cut into the cake and dealt out the slices. You contemplated giving the slice reading just the word 'Sexy' to Spencer and gave in. It couldn't do any harm. You brought it to him with a crude attempt at a wink. The man of the hour turned red, if only slightly. He took the cake, thanked you and tentatively tasted the frosting, eyes lighting up in delight. 

You swiped a finger through the frosting, putting it in your mouth and tasting it. You nearly had to stop yourself from wincing. My God, that's sweet. But Spencer seemed to love it, which was the crucial part. 

You caught his gaze, finger still resting between your lips. Your heart skipped a beat as an unreadable expression on his face before he ironed it out with a smile, raising his plate in a toast. You raised yours back, but your heart wasn't in it. 'What the hell was that?' You wondered as you took a proper bite of the overly sweet cake. 

Spencer's gaze had been on your face, his eyebrows furrowed in what seemed like worry. His mouth had been slightly agape. But it was his eyes that struck you. His pupils were dilated as they seemed to be filled with contemplation. 

The expression stuck with you. It wasn't one you'd seen before, not from Spencer. You tried to come up with the right words to describe it throughout the party. 

Emily handed you a drink, toasting to another year with Spencer. 

Intrigued? 

Penelope whispers in your ear, asking what you'd gotten Spencer as a present. 

Calculating, maybe? 

Rossi tells a life story, wishing Spencer a bright future with many similar experiences. 

It was almost ambitious. Or eager, perhaps. 

Whatever it was, it was burned into your brain. What made it so compelling was that Spencer clearly hadn't wanted you to see it, seeing how he schooled his expression the second he'd realized you were watching. 

You nursed your drink as your coworkers started trickling out of the apartment one by one. You shamelessly watched Spencer as he was engrossed in an animated conversation with Penelope. Emily took a seat next to you, following your gaze to the enthusiastic duo. 

She didn't have to speak a word. Years as colleagues and friends were bound to create an implicit form of communication. Add a bunch of profilers, and much went unspoken. You sighed and leaned against the cushions. 

"I don't want to hear it, Prentiss." 

She laughed fondly. "I'm just saying, I'm gonna be driving Penelope home soon. Just humour me and talk to him about it." 

"There's nothing to talk about," you dismissed. You looked down at your drink, refusing to meet her eye. 

"You really haven't been present at all tonight. What's got you in your head?" Emily put a hand on your shoulder. 

"It's nothing to be worried about, Em. I'm just overthinking. He gave me this look earlier, and it's frustrating me that I can't figure out what it meant," you shrugged. 

Emily looked contemplative. "He's been watching you, you know. Not just tonight. It's been a while since I've noticed, though he's really ramped it up." 

"What do you mean?" You wondered genuinely. 

"I don't know..." Emily started. "He just has this look on his face when he thinks nobody's watching. Believe me, you can ask JJ about it. She's seen it, too. We've talked about it." 

"What kind of look?" You asked, curious if it could've been the same thing you spotted earlier tonight. 

"I can't really describe it. I'd almost call it... Greed? Maybe? It's a bit off-putting if you ask me. It's only you, though." Emily shrugged, clearly holding back on her explanation. She seemingly weighed her options before continuing. 

"You want to know what I think, profiler to profiler?" Emily finally broke. You urged her to continue. 

"Objectively speaking, and only looking at the facts, I think it can only be described as hunger." The tone of her voice implied that it wasn't a silly implication she was making for the fun of it. 

"Hunger?" You asked, glancing at Spencer from the corner of your eye. 

"Yeah, hunger. And not the food kind." 

You choked on your drink at the implication. "Are you out of your mind? We're at his house, Emily!" You whisper-shouted. 

"Yeah, well, whether I tell you here or at the office, the jet, or any other place, the man looks at you like he's starved. You have desire, and then you have this. It's concerning, really."

Of all the things it could've been, hunger wouldn't have been your first guess. Emily sure picked a convoluted way of telling you he undressed you with his mind on the daily, according to her.  

You panicked a little when Emily got up from the couch, asking Penelope if she was ready to go home. You glared daggers at her. Don't leave me here with him! Not after what you said. 

You could make your exit now, but you'd seem too eager to 'have an out' if you went with them. 

Spencer thanked Penelope generously for the party. He was genuinely appreciative of all the thought and effort put into it. You bid your goodbyes to the girls, and with that, you were alone with Spencer. 

"Hi," he spoke softly, sitting opposite you on the couch. 

"Hey," you replied, laughing a little. You took a sip of your drink, which had gone flat. You put it on the table and turned back to Spencer. There it was again, the look. 

He observed every crevice of your face as you did his. Much like with Emily, your communication with Spencer often went unspoken. But you couldn't read him, and it bothered you. 

"What's with that look?" You finally dared to ask, ignoring Emily's implication. 

His eyebrows furrowed. "What look?" 

"The one you gave me just now. And earlier, after I gave you your cake. According to Emily, it's not the first time." 

"I don't know what you're talking about." He didn't meet your eye, opting to pick at the threads of the couch. It was a lame attempt at deflection.

"Don't bullshit me, Spencer. You look like you want to eat me alive." 

Spencer bit his lip and seemingly calculated every possible outcome of the conversation. He shook his head in defeat, toying with his fingers. You awaited his answer, tension rising in your stomach.

"I guess that's one way to put it," he finally sighed, meeting your gaze. His eyes were intense. After his admission, you finally found the correct adjective.

Lust. 

Without a thought, you threw your body forward, putting your hands on the side of his face and bringing your lips to his. He kissed you back with a sense of desperation. Your hands went up to his hair, tugging experimentally. A low groan met your ears as Spencer pulled away. 

"Are you 100% sure about this? I don't think I can go back to how things used to be if we continue," Spencer admitted, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. You leaned against it and closed your eyes, slowly nodding. 

"Yeah, Spencer. I want this, want you." He searched your expression for doubt or uncertainty, but only found conviction. 

He nodded. "Okay. Okay, lie back," he motioned to the armrest behind you. You furrowed your brows in confusion. Spencer noticed your questioning face and ran his fingers over your scalp, moving to speak into your ear. "So I can eat that pretty pussy of yours." 

Your breath hitched, scrambling to lie back as he'd instructed. Spencer's hands made quick work of your bottoms, leaving you exposed. You brought a hand to your face and closed your legs in embarrassment. 

"Hey, none of that. Let me see you," Spencer urged. You silently complied, opening your thighs and letting Spencer rest between them. He let out a soft moan at the sight of you already dripping. 

"Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous." Spencer complimented before running two fingers through your folds and collecting the fluid. He held them up, glistening in the dim light. He brought them up to your mouth. You didn't need any instructions, hesitantly opening up and sucking them in. 

Spencer groaned at the sensation of your tongue swirling around his fingers, feeling his cock quickly come to life after having been half-hard all night. You sighed in satisfaction at the tent forming in his slacks. 

"Couldn't think straight when I saw you try that icing. Looked so good sucking on your finger like that," Spencer revealed. So that's what the look had been for. 

He took his fingers from your mouth and brought them back down, pushing both inside without further preparation. He pumped them a couple times, trying to find the right angle. A low moan fell from your lips when he found it. Spencer grinned, adding his other hand to rub at your clit. 

"I think this is my new favourite look on you," he murmured. He moved his body back on the couch, bringing his face between your legs. He placed a string of small pecks on your inner thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. 

You couldn't help but exclaim when his tongue finally licked an exploratory stripe between your folds. "Shit, Spencer!" 

He ate you out like a man starved, gazing up through his lashes to watch your face contort in pleasure. Your hands searched for something to steady yourself, finally finding their resting place in his mop of gorgeous curls. 

When he sucked harshly on your clit, your fingers clenched instantly, tugging at his hair harshly. "Fuck, Spencer, oh my God, don't stop." 

You felt him moan against your clit, head tilting towards your grip. He continued licking and sucking every good spot while you realized he enjoyed having your fingers yanking at the messy strands.

"Hmm, just as sweet as that cake, if not more." The feeling of his moans against you was a foreign, albeit welcome, one. You quickly felt yourself get closer, tugging his hair and pulling him impossibly close. You needed more.   

"Fuck, Spencer. If you don't stop, I'm gonna come," you let him know. Spencer had a devilish smile, increasing his speed. He added a finger back inside and curled it just right. 

"Shit, just like that. Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged. 

"Come for me," Spencer spoke, intent on having you finish on his face. You felt your toes curl and legs tense. Spencer's head was the only thing keeping them open. 

"Spencer!" You moaned as you rode out your high on his tongue. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. Your legs felt numb as Spencer got up from between them. 

"You're wearing too many clothes," he decided, helping you tug your shirt over your head. 

"Well, what about you? You're fully dressed, Pretty Boy," you motioned towards his body. He shrugged and took off his vest before unhurriedly unbuttoning his shirt. You put your head on the armrest as you enjoyed the show. He smiled at your antics, humming Marvin Gaye's ' Let's Get It On' before carelessly throwing his shirt to the floor. 

He continued humming the song as he undid his belt. You bit your lip, raising an eyebrow at him to continue. He shook his head as he chuckled, tugging his pants down. You smirked at the sight of the tent in his black boxers. 

"You're not gonna take your socks off?" You looked towards his feet, clad in one hot pink and one neon green sock. 

"Shut up, my feet get cold easily." Spencer pleaded. You held up your hands in mock defence. 

You watched as his hands reached for the hem of his boxers. You stopped him, sitting up and hooking your fingers under the elastic. You looked up at him as you slowly tugged them down, freeing his cock. It was achingly hard, precum already collecting at the tip. He removed the boxers and softly pushed your back against the soft cushions. 

He leaned over you, putting his hands beside your head. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your lips. He grinned, and you felt love surge through your body at the admiration on his face. 

"Do you want to know what I wished for when I blew out my candles?" He asked, placing kisses down your jawline. 

"If you say you wished for me, I'm gonna have to get all the vegans out of your vicinity because that's so chees- Oh, fuck" Spencer cut your joke off by sucking on your neck, under your ear. 

"Hmm, I guess I won't tell you, then," Spencer threatened, reaching behind your back to undo your bra. He took the straps off your shoulders and down your arms, throwing the bra in the same direction he'd thrown his shirt. 

"No, tell me. What did you wish for," you urged. Spencer looked down, admiring your figure.

"This, you, under me, to be specific. Thought it would've made a very nice sight, and I was definitely right," he grinned, softly kneading your breast. He placed another kiss on your lips, and you were convinced you could get drunk on just that. 

Spencer bent further down, finally bringing your hips together. He ground down, and you winced, still sensitive from your orgasm. It felt too good, though. To finally have him where you wanted him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought his lips to your roughly, kissing him with desperation. 

Spencer reciprocated, grinding his hips and moaning into your mouth. You pulled away to speak. "Please, Spence. Need you inside." 

"Protection?" He questioned, moving his mouth back to your neck and sucking feverishly. You shook your head. "Don't care. Need you now." 

"Good, because I don't have any in the house." Spencer groaned, taking his cock in his hand and lining himself up with your entrance. He pushed the tip inside, and you had to take a deep breath before he continued. 

"Shit, Spence. So big. Fuck, you're really full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Hmm, there's more where that came from," Spencer joked, groaning when he bottomed out. He allowed you to readjust, not being used to having anything his size inside of you. You brought your hands to his shoulders, fingernails gradually digging into his skin when you nodded at him to move. 

"Feel so good around me, f-fuck," Spencer moaned, closing his eyes. He slowly started moving. His hips snapped forwards, sending his cock deep inside of you. 

"Oh, fuck, oh my God," you moaned deeply.

"Perfect fit," Spencer sighed. "Like you were made just for me." His pace picked up as desperation set in. 

"J-just for you, Spence," you agreed. You wrapped your legs around his waist. The new angle made you throw your head back against the couch. 

Spencer trailed a hand down to your clit, rubbing in tandem with his thrusts. You wrapped your arms back around his neck and tugged him close, desperate to feel his lips again. You could understand how people got addicted if this is what it felt like all the time. You wanted to spend the rest of eternity with his mouth on yours. 

"So pretty. Had to have you. You've been driving me crazy for months," Spencer's voice was strained with effort as he spoke. 

"What do you think about me, doc? When you kept looking at me like that, kept finding subtle ways to touch me. I was going insane." 

Spencer smiled as the movement of his hips sped up. Your moans got higher in pitch. His breathing became laboured, losing himself in the pleasure. 

Moans of "So good," and "Fuck," joined your name in falling off his lips repeatedly. If there was any sound you could be met with in heaven, it would be Spencer moaning your name in pure bliss. 

"O-Oh, Spencer, please," you begged, unsure what for. You just needed more of him. Needed him closer. 

"Fuck, oh my, fuck-" Spencer sighed. His pace was frenzied, cock feeling so fucking good. 

"I-I'm close- Spencer," you informed him, eyes squeezing shut. The hand on your clit increased it's speed. You couldn't believe you were so close to coming so soon after your first orgasm. 

"Wanna cum inside you. Can I please cum inside you?" Spencer asked, groaning at the idea of you dripping with his cum. 

"Yeah, yeah, fuck. Please, cum inside me. Wanna feel you, shit, Spencer!" You moaned. 

 "O-oh," Spencer's hips stuttered as he exclaimed your name in a loud moan. The sensation of his cock pulsing sent you over the edge yourself, joining him in his climax. 

He thrust inside lazily a few more times, riding out his high, before slowly pulling out. You felt empty without him, grimacing at the loss of contact. Spencer leaned down and pecked your lips before getting off the couch and walking to the bathroom.  

He returned with a warm washcloth and a towel. He helped you clean up, all while kissing you everywhere he deemed fit. He ushered you to go pee, laughing at your wobbly legs. You threw a pillow at him for that. 

When you were both clean, he offered you a big, loose shirt to sleep in. You grinned at the implication. He hadn't even hesitated. Needn't even ask if you wanted to stay over. 

You tucked yourself under his cold sheets. He soon joined you, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you close. Spencer Reid, notoriously weird with any physical affection, seemed like an entirely different person once you allowed him to love you. And God, were you going to allow him to love you. 

"You know, it's still my birthday in Alaska," Spencer spoke when you were almost asleep. You snorted. "Good night, Spencer." 

"Good night." You could hear the smile in his voice.

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic #Spencer reid fic #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #soft!Spencer reid #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #mgg x you #mgg x reader #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #mgg x y/n #spencer x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader

[koolades-world]

Can you do Obey Me headcanons of a Christian MC? MC isn't a toxic one though, they're actually super nice and supportive of everyone and such. They're also generally really trusting and try and see the best in people. They're more or less just extremely concerned and slightly uncomfortable with the entire being kidnapped and brought to hell thing(and also being forced to attend school again)

They also got really excited when they learned angels were gonna be attending RAD too, so there's that lol

Like when they saw Simeon and Luke for the first time they mentally went "THIS IS A MOMENT IN HISTORY!!!! TAKE A PICTURE!!!"

haha hi!!

when I first saw this I was really looking forward to doing it! been thinking about it a lot

one of my best friends is actually a christian who plays obey me, and she was the one to introduce me to the game. I think she would find this funny, so I'll def be thinking of her while I write this haha (if you're reading this, which you very much might be, heyyyy happy late bday girl)

Christian Mc

Lucifer

once you realize who he is, you're freaked out, both in a good and bad way

like, this is the lucifer! you ask to take a picture lol (and he's not amused)

you're a little sad and relieved when he pawns you off to mammon, since you're awed by his presence but also terrified since you knew the part he played in the bible by heart

once you get to know him, the both of you chuckle about human depictions of him and you finally get that picture! be sure to make him sign it and then frame it

Mammon

learns quickly just how many copies of the bible you own once he spends enough time in your room including but not limited to the version on your phone, the mini version in your RAD bag, and the one you keep on your side table

once you get to the stage of basically living together, he learns that you read the bible and say a prayer nightly

at first, he was nervous having to be the one to guide you but he learnt you were probably more scared of him, and you were actually just so sweet

he jokingly picks up all of the jesus merch he finds so now you have an entire shelf

Levi

the most normal out of the brothers besides the fact that he spends all his time in his room, but that kind of reminds you of a brother you only see like once a day

it's almost scary and a little jarring walking into his room, but after that, you guys get along so well

he admits that he thought the exchange program was weird, and it was all history after that

unlikely besties: a devout christan human and their gamer social outcast demon

Satan

highkey fuming about the fact that humans don't know that he and lucifer are different (he for sure smashed up an entire room of the house)

after he calms down from this though, although it takes a while for the two of you to get to know each other, he takes joy in making fun of the slanderous things said about lucifer

you both like to read but the only thing you reread and read nightly is the bible so

luckily he doesn't care about that since it wasn't his dad anyways (don't remind him that it's technically his grandpa's book)

Asmo

the first time you showed him biblical version of him, he was disgusted and refused to speak to you for the next two and half days

after that he feels a little bad since he knows you didn't mean it like that and since you basically tip toe around him

after that he comes on a little strong, but after a while you get along pretty well despite being so different

he’ll reminisce while you listen carefully and hold onto every work he says since he was a real angel and that’s so cool

Beel

while you were initially terrified of him, you quickly learnt how much like he actually was

at the core, you were both just a kind person (or demon) who wanted to help others and uplift them

always there for you to lend a listening ear and to help out out if others are giving you problems

the first in the devildom to make you feel truest welcome and let you know that you could call it home

Belphie

at first he thinks it’s a joke and kinda pokes fun at it

once he realizes you’re being serious, he feels a little bad but also still thinks is very funny how you hide your face behind a bible when you’re scare

has had holy water thrown at him, and has found a bible under his pillow before (gosh who could’ve done that…)

used to jump out at your from around corners in his demon form and it sent your running every time so you can prepared with a rosary blessed by the pope to shove in his face if he dare to try again

#obey me #obey me! #obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me levi #obey me lucifer #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date

[jiabeewrites]

happy bday! can i request a kurt wagner x batsis?

THANKS ANON! sorry it took so long to write 😓

Awkward first meetings

SUMMARY: When Bruce Wayne finds out his daughter is dating, he demands to meet them. What he doesn't expect is a mutant that looks like, well... a blue demon.

TW: slight mutant slander, body image issues (for kurt this is being blue and stuff), language, use of she/her/hers pronouns, use of Y/N, overprotective batfam.

A/N: batsis's vigilante name is nightingale

"So what's his name again?"

Y/N sighed. Her family would never let this go, would they?

"I told you a thousand times, Dick, it's Kurt."

Dick frowned.

"Kurt what?"

"You'll find out, I'm not having you do a background check on my boyfriend!" She said, annoyed.

"Why are you so against it?" Jason asked. "If he was a good, normal person, then it wouldn't do any harm. Unless there's something that you want to keep from us."

"I won't tell you, and besides, he'll let you know when he'd ready. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go change my clothes."

Y/N Wayne and Kurt Wagner met about four months ago. She'd finally gotten to meet with her friend, Jean, and was surprised to find that she would finally get to meet the group of people that Jean talked about so much. They consisted of Jean's boyfriend Scott, two girls named Ororo and Jubilee, and three boys: Peter, Warren, and Kurt. He'd asked her out on a date after that, and the rest was history.

Y/N sighed, and put on her sweater. Most likely her brothers would do nothing less than interrogate Kurt.

Suddenly her phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Y/N. Vat do I do? Do you just vant me to come and Bamf to your door?" Kurt asked.

She sighed.

"Listen, Blue, if you wanna then go for it. I mean... they'll find out tonight at dinner anyway."

"Alright." Y/N heard a familiar teleporting noise and then a voice.

"Here goes notzing."

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

She heard a bell ring throughout the house, then came downstairs.

Y/N sighed. Hopefully her family wouldn't be stunned.

"Hey, Kurt."

The blue mutant grinned, and then walked up to her.

"Za professor vas a vittle against me coming here, but Jean convinced him," Kurt said.

"Eh, if I needed to I could just bribe him," she said flippantly. Her boyfriend chuckled, then looked at her brothers, who seemed... unsurprised, to be honest.

Jason was the first to speak.

"Of course Y/N/N goes for the metas," he said, laughing.

"Tt, wouldn't he know? F-Batman has a rule against metahumans," Damian said, frowning at the mutant.

"I'm...not a metahuman," Kurt said, looking at them.

"What are you, then?" Steph asked.

"A mutant."

"Look, it doesn't matter, because now he's here, and we can do introductions. Kurt, this is Babs, Dick, Jason, Cass, Steph, Tim, Duke, and Damian. Idiots minus Cass, this is Kurt," Y/N said, motioning to each Bat as she spoke. "And the person you met at the door is Alfred, he's basically our grandpa."

"It's nice to veet you all," Kurt said, smiling nervously.

"Where are you from?" Dick asked.

"Germany."

"Cool, I'm from Romania," he said.

The awkward silence returned, and they were all grateful that Alfred came in before it got too...weird.

"Master Bruce is here, and dinner is finished cooking, so please make your way into the dining room soon."

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A/N: I literally butchered his accent smh ToT

thanks for the request! sorry it was so short!

#ryn's birthday celebration #kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #nightcrawler x reader #x men #im lazy #so im not gonna tag everyone ;-; #batfam #batsis!reader

[sie-rui]

❀ THE MOMENT I KNEW | TOKYO REVENGERS

;; mikey gets sick on his 18th bday, he misses you

🥛 — sano manjiro

🧾 — gender neutral reader, second pov ( you / your ), sick au, alternate timeline, everyone lives / nobody dies, birthday fic, mild angst,hurt / comfort, imagine

✉ — happy birthday to my love. i really want him to end up happy this time :((

Sano Manjiro had always been a healthy child. He wasn’t one to get sick, not fevers that end with him in bed that is. His immune system was always in shape, despite having to be forced to eat vegetables and anything aside from sweets. Perhaps all of the sleeping he had done had helped with his health rather than his height. 

Point is, he had never experienced what other people did: bedrest. He’s quite thankful for that.

Today, God was pissed at him, probably. 

The moment he woke up, it was noon and Mikey already concluded that he didn’t like being sick. It was shitty. He wants to die already.

The 20th of August has long been established as his birthday. Normally, he would be feasting on a huge breakfast with Emma, Grandpa, Shinichiro, and that idiot, Izana. Then, he would be opening gifts over gifts before going out for a ride with Toman. A day with you after that is a must, along with lots and lots of kisses and hugs.

His 18th birthday is spent in bed.

“Alright, stay in bed, Manjiro,” Shinichiro ends, showing the thermometer to him; it blinked a perfect 38.5 degree celsius. “We can celebrate tomorrow instead, alright?”

Mikey groans but it gets cut off midway with a harsh cough. He swore he tasted blood. (He’s being a dramatic ass bitch, like usual.)

Emma gives him a pointed look from behind their oldest brother. Their grandfather silently shakes his head, putting the blankets over Mikey and forcing him to lie back down. Izana lingers by the door, not that the birthday boy cares. (He does.)

Shinichiro says something about cooking this or that and Emma adds with contactings friends and hiding gifts. Mikey does not listen, he’s too busy sulking. He hates this. He feels as if there’s someone stuffing cotton in his head through his nose. He felt nauseous enough that seeing the cake made him want to puke. (Thank God Emma backed away and hid it from view before replacing it with soup for him to drink like water before being followed with medicine.)

“Mikey, we’re going now alright. Rest some more. I’ll come back again later with food you can actually swallow without gagging,” Emma tells him. Shinichiro pats his head, his sister gives him a hug, everyone greets him a happy birthday anyway. Then, the door is closed behind them and the lights are turned off.

Mikey dies in the dark.

The curtains are slightly open. Mikey turns away from it, gripping the sheets and pulling it up to his chin.

He felt empty.

He was actually looking forward to today. Emma’s cooking had always beaten restaurants and Shinichiro’s smile and greeting being the first thing he woke up to had always been appreciated. His grandfather’s pat in the back and small smile always made him fold and even Izana’s silent nod and gifts were touching. He can’t believe that he isn’t going to experience that this year, now that he’s bedridden with a common cold.

Keisuke was going to laugh at him, really. They all were going to, probably.

He felt so lonely.

Did they leave him? Why did they leave? Mikey didn’t like being sick. He felt so away from everyone, from you. 

Mikey’s whole body shakes from the sneeze.

Even worse was that he told you that you were going out on a date today and that he was going to take you to the movies to watch that film he wanted to watch then to dinner at his favorite restaurant.That was what he wanted from you for his birthday: a day just with you. It was enough. It always will be.

God, were you waiting for him? Where was his phone? He needed to call you. What if you were already a;; dressed up? What if you were sitting in the living room, waiting for him to pick you up?

Mikey wanted to force his body to get up and find his phone—or any phone, really, he just wanted to contact you. He just wanted to hear your voice. Maybe a happy birthday? God, he loves you. He misses you already.

He really wanted to get up.

When his eyes blinked open, the room was pure black and he knew that no matter how much he opened the curtain, the room would continue to remain in darkness. His head hurts. He wanted to sob but even thinking about it made his head throb in pain. He was hungry. Did Emma come back earlier and decide to not wake him up? He really wanted to eat something other than medicine and soup.

The door opens and Mikey hopes that it was Emma with something to eat, or at least something to drink. Who stood on the other side was even better.

Mikey pushes himself to sit up even if it makes him dizzy once he sees your face pop up from behind the door with a little smile. “Hey, Manjiro!” You greet, turning on the lights when he quickly shielded his eyes. “Happy birthday, love.”

Mikey pouts, blinking to get adjusted to the lights as you close the door and pad through the room. You sat next to him and he really loved the way your hand automatically found his head, combing through his locks and scratching. He leans back, closing his eyes, hand finding your thigh and resting there.

“I love you.”

Your hand left his head and Mikey whines at the loss of your touch. “‘Love you too…” He murmurs, voice raspy from sleep and sick, looking up at you. You lean forward, forehead on the side of his neck, feeling how warm he was as his hands now found themselves on your waist.

“Got you some food from your favorite restaurant, ‘Jiro. Though it’s probably not as good as Emma’s cooking,” you whisper. “Don’t worry about the movie, I managed to get a different ticket a few days from now, okay?”

“Want to watch it with you now,” he replies, almost whimpering as his nails dig into your skin when you try to pull away. “Don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving Manjiro. I’m right here. We’re all right here, in your heart and right beside you, even if you don’t think we are,” you hush him, hand drawing circles on his arm now that you’re practically on his lap. “We can’t watch the movie though. You need food, medicine, and rest.:

Mikey pulls you even closer from your words. It always did feel like you were reading his mind, like you knew him more than he knew himself.

“Stay?”

“Staying.”

“Kiss?”

You lean your head back to meet his heavy eyes. “Maybe just on the cheek.”

He pouts once more, acting pretty much like a child. You don’t have it in you to complain. If anything, it is quite adorable how needy he does get sometimes. “As long as you kiss me a hundred times more when I heal.”

“Deal.”

You press your lips to his cheek before he could change his mind and his grip finally loosens, his shoulder losing all the tension it had just a few moments prior. Mikey’s hair was a mess but it wasn’t enough to hide how his eyes slowly glazed over in tiredness and how his blinking got slower with each one.

“Go to sleep for a while, ‘Jiro. I’ll heat up your food for now.”

He frowns. “But-”

“I’ll be back, I swear.”

He remains hesitant, hand now on yours, but he slowly lies down again. You pull up the blanket, making sure that he’s comfortable. The reluctance in his eyes was clear but you smiled at him, combing through his hair once more. With that action, his eyes flutter, neck stretching to lean on your hand.

You chuckle and Mikey opens his eyes for a second to look at you, puckering his lips. Leaning down, you press another one on his cheek and this time, he does whine. “Tease.”

“I love you, Manjiro,” you say again with a silly upturn of your lips.

He huffs, feeling even more tired as he sinks further into the bed as it swallows him. 

Mikey blinks, slowly, carefully, and tiredly. The world blurs in his eyes but the image of your smile burns into his mind like some permanent scar from a cigarette butt. Reality and the world of fever dreams tangle, melting into each other slowly and sweetly. But the warmth of your hand grasping onto his never leaves like how the comfort of the way your hand massages his head does.

That was the moment Sano Manjiro, Mikey, 18 years old, knew that he was going to marry you.

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers mikey #sano manjiro #sano manjirou #manjiro #manjirou #mikey #sano mikey #mikey x reader #mikey x you #mikey x y/n #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro x y/n #sano manjiro x y/n #mikey imagines #comfort mikey #happy birthday mikey #sano shinichiro #shinichiro #izana #kurokawa izana #sano emma #emma

[nakachuchu]

Neighbors | Itadori Yuuji

SYNOPSIS: Modern AU - Your neighbor and boyfriend Yuuji always knew how to make you feel better on a bad day.

READER: gender neutral

WORDS: 1.1k

WRITTEN: 12/30/2022

NOTE: This was super indulgent and it reminded me why I love yuuji bc he would be the biggest lover ever. This piece is for @haithamuse 's The Lover's Journey collab event! Thank you for having me. I had a lot of fun! I wasn't sure if you wanted me to add a tag of your event, but if you do, text it to me so I make sure the font is right :) Happy super early bday <3

Sometimes, you just had off days. You couldn't explain why you felt the way you did, but you knew you weren't super depressed or feeling particularly homicide on those days. You just couldn't put your finger on it.

But you were thankful that Yuuji was your neighbor because sometimes, you just really needed a hug without questions asked.

Yuuji was great at big bear hugs, and he was strong too so he could carry you inside his place and just comfort you.

The two of you were neighbors before you were friends, but before friends, you were classmates first. The two of you left your houses at different times, so you never walked to school together, but you often shared the same classes.

It wasn't until the last day of middle school that the two of you had your first conversation. The cherry blossoms were scattered amongst the wind, blowing in every direction, and the two of you ended up walking home together because none of your other friends lived that way.

The two of you spent that summer together too, going to the park and the town while wearing as little clothing as possible because of how hot it was.

When you started high school, the two of you were inseparable. He joined the soccer team and you would be his personal cheerleader, going to all of his games. You joined the art club for fun and he would sit with you while you painted.

He wasn't the type to care much about anything. He liked soccer but never bothered to join the team until you told him to. He lived in the moment, and the only thing that he could count as a goal in life was to spend time with his loved ones. His grandpa and you were the only ones left in his life, and he was going to treasure it.

You waited at home patiently until Yuuji was done with practice. You didn't have the energy to wait for him at school, but he didn't expect you to always be at his practices. You just liked being there for him.

You sat at your desk, attempting to do homework, but in reality, you were looking out your window for when Yuuji would come home. You didn't get much homework done because you couldn't focus, but they weren't important anyway.

As soon as you saw Yuuji, you bolted out of your room and out the door, telling your parents you'd be back for dinner.

Yuuji barely had time to turn around before you tackled him. He easily caught you as you rammed into his body, greedy hands bunching around his clothes.

"Y/N?"

You rubbed your face in his shirt. "I missed you."

He smiled and hugged you. "Is something wrong?"

You didn't often say that you missed him because you were too embarrassed, so he immediately knew something was wrong when you told him you missed him.

You shook your head.

"Wanna go to my room?" he asked.

You nodded.

He made sure his duffel bag was secure before picking you up, letting you wrap your legs around his waist as he unlocked his door and carried you into his house.

You kicked out your shoes by the entrance, and he used the front of his feet to take off his shoes, not caring about the scruffs as he carried you up to his room.

His room was neat, except for a few socks on the floor. Before he started dating you, he had a few naughty posters in his room. Now, he only had one poster that you posed to give to him on his birthday. You were always a bit embarrassed that he treasured it so much and put it up on the first wall that someone would see when they walked in.

Aside from the one semi-indecent poster, you printed for him, he had a bunch of photos of the two of you taped to the wall by his desk. He liked to be able to look at you whenever he was doing homework.

He placed you on his bed before walking back to close his door and put his duffel bag around. You were quick to move, moving under his blankets and getting comfortable.

"You're so cute, Y/N," he said right before snapping a quick photo of you.

"Hey," you whined.

He laughed. "You're just too cute. Let me in too."

You opened the blankets and let him climb in. The two of you faced each other in his small bed. Your legs were inserted between his, finding warmth under the sheets.

He pressed his forehead to yours and the two of you looked at each other, buried under the blankets. Your smells mingled with each other, just the way you two liked it.

"Y/N, I promise to love you forever."

You smiled. "Yuuji, I promise to love you forever."

The two of you erupted into a fit of giggles, wiggling around in bed before eventually hitting each other with pillows.

Moments with Yuuji usually escalated into laughter and shenanigans that his grandpa would sigh and shake his head at.

Yuuji knew how to control his strength around you, but he still hit you hard enough to leave you annoyed and laughing as you used all of your strength to smack him in the head with one of his pillows.

“Whoa, oops!”

As soon as your body began to slip and tilt off the edge of his bed, he grabbed your wrist and shoved himself underneath you. He winced as his back hit the wooden floors, while all you felt was Yuuji’s body since you landed on him.

“Yuu, are you okay?” you questioned as you crawled off him.

“I'll be fine,” he reassured. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head.

He grinned. “Then that's all that matters.”

“Idiot,” you muttered with a light smack to his chest.

He pulled you back onto his lap, sitting up and holding you. You wondered why he suddenly did that but welcomed his touch and smell. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck and closed your eyes. You could feel yourself falling asleep, but you knew he'd wake you up in time for dinner so you felt yourself slipping away.

His fingers found your hair, brushing through it gently as he held you to sleep. He kissed the side of your head and smiled. He was so thankful to have someone like you in his life and he would treasure it for as long as he lived.

“Good night, Y/N.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuji x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori x reader

[berriesandjunnie]

dating jeon wonwoo [birthday special]

happy wonwoo day, carats! here’s a celebratory wonwoo headcanon<3

wonwoo x afab!reader headcanon no translations needed what a man to date huh

lets start with how this man is in general yall!!

absolute simp

i said it

wonwoo is an undercover simp

he will do absolutely everything at the request of his partner

you want one of your cravings?

hold on sweetie he'll be there in 10

he's always been a lot quieter than you

perhaps one of those opposites attract vibes that somehow moulded together perfectly

some people like to doubt that the two of you even get along

but you love him literally who wouldn't

okay so his bday!

i can picture this is an early relationship and you've not made the first move of living together

this makes you a little sad bc you can't wake him up with birthday streamers but whatever

you do however! heavily decorate your little apartment in birthday things

you know he wont give a shit and probably wont like the colour but

you don't read minds and you are incorrect

he turns up at your house after spending breakfast with svt and dealing with their bullshit

he thought he'd escape it at yours but LOL

pranked

but as much as he perhaps isn't the type to plaster happy birthday banners to the walls and bunty above door frames

he can't help but smile and show his cute ass teeth when you turn around for a moment

doesn't despise the colour but he does think its questionable

you absolutely litter him in attention

he's always so attentive to you and your needs that sometimes its easy to get caught up in what the other may want

so when he moves to get a drink, you're up on your feet quicker than him and hurrying to the kitchen

wonwoo has to state like ten times during present opening that you do not need to do it for him

"but i want to"

"today does not immobilise me i can get stuff myself"

"well you're another year older grandpa don't hold your breath"

that's another thing like????

you two tease each other SO much

perhaps not as much as jeonghan would to his partner

but still you're a very playful couple behind the scenes and thats what the public will never understand

bc svt literally overloaded him on food for breakfast bc they simply love him that much he didn't really want to eat for a while

that is absolutely frickin fine to you

you do however drag him for some time in the sun, wandering seoul's streets and admiring small shops the two of you had never noticed before

and of course a cat cafe is involved why the fuck wouldn't it be

i'm sorry but the pure joy you get from seeing wonwoo quietly cooing over cats while sipping iced coffee is !!!!!!

even tho it's his bday he does get you some small things you like out of the stores you venture into

but he can't resist a book store and he gets a good few books for himself there that he's always wanted to read

you'd already stated you'd be borrowing them when he's done

anyways so you head back to your place and wonwoo is just like can we order takeaway?

and you was going to cook dinner for him but the heat lowkey ended you and you just wanted to sit down

so you agree!

and of course, gamer woo has a console at your place, obviously

he ropes you into playing minecraft and being his little flower collector

ofc you'll do that??? its his bday you can bring him flowers and shii

and plenty of tamed kitties!!

he names all of them a variation of your name and nickname

sorry but i am BAWLING what a man

wonwoo is so head over heels for you he never needs or wants anything extravagant from you

he appreciates your time and the effort you already subject into dating an idol

he always thinks you're the better partner for dating someone in the industry and he thinks you're very strong for it and hypes you up

he's even mentioned it in an interview before!

maybe in public the two of you aren't keen on pda - being an idol is a reason on wonwoo's behalf, it sucks to have media track you - but in private?

all this man wants is you curled up against him, a blanket draping over his and your legs and controllers in both of your hands

it's his absolute favourite thing in the world, to have you so close to him even if you don't play the game sometimes and just watch

he loves you

a lot

and he knows people think he's a super awkward quiet guy who probably isn't too fun to date

but you know otherwise as the two of you cuddle up on your couch and you request more cobblestone from him for your house

and in response he not only gives you a few stacks of cobblestone but a kiss on your head

"happy birthday wonwoo"

"thank you my love"

#cafeshuaaa #seventeen #svt fanfic #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #happy wonwoo day!! #svt #svt x reader #svt imagines

[peanut-tyrug]

Rework Short Rambles

Chapter 18 - Interference

I feel like Wagstaff is Wilson’s long lost grandpa

Maybe Wilson never met or knew Wagstaff when he was younger?

MICHAEL

DON’T LEAVE ME HERE

MICHAEL!!

BITCH BE HAPPY WITH WHAT YOU HAVE

I don’t need to say a word

Heyyyyyy Woodrow how you doinnnnnn

I was wondering if Wagstaff would’ve actually put Woodrow’s skeleton in the floorboards of his home, but knowing Wagstaff, it may not be too far fetched to believe he put Woodrow’s skeleton there. Who’s skeleton could it be anyway?

DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW EXCITED I GOT WHEN WATCHING THIS FOR THE FIRST TIME?

Like I was just like “WHO IS THAT!?” and then I realized it was Wagstaff and I just SQUEALED. I IMMEDIATELY started coming up with a timeline to organize the events leading up to Wagstaff taking the shack back.

Also I really like the DST theme playing the bg it sounds really good :)

Also

HAPPY BIRTHDAY WILSON!!!

Happy Birthday to this absolute goober scientist :)

I didn’t plan to post this on Wilson’s bday when I had the idea of making this series. I just started it at the perfect time :)

The path was set in stone and I had no idea until last night when I found out Wilson’s bday was today :)

Another thing

When I saw Wilson’s short pop up on Klei’s YT I FUCKING SCREAMED

Thought this would be good thing to add :)

#don’t starve #dst wilson #dst wagstaff #rework short rambles

[sugarchains]

ok this is nothing major, but i was out with my family for most of the day yesterday. the extended family

my great aunts (so my grandmas sister) birthday is tuesday, and my grandmas bday was yesterday. but grandma is in florida and auntie is up here so we were with her side of the family

and im SO SAD but its a HAPPY SAD bc im looking at my cousins who i used to babysit??? babysit, and watched for so much of my childhood and theyre GROWN

one of them is like about to switch careers so she can work from home and help her grandma (which is my auntie) out more, her little brother is in COLLEGE upstate

and hes the last one i think? out of all the grandkids/cousins to be in college

and we were laughing bc everyone in mine/my sister generation now constantly get told about things we do like our elders. like i eat just like my uncle, my cousin looks just like his grandpa, his sister acts like our uncle, our cousin moves the same way as one of our other uncles

and we ALL. have a gap in our front teeth, lmaoooo. like the only way you are in this family and dont have it is if you married in, or had braces as a kid. and the braces part is like 3 people

anyway i had FUN yesterday, my aunt turned 80 yrs old and i love my family

#it was SO NICE #the food was AWESOME #why i saw people who knew me from when i was A BABY #Ive had the same face since iwas like. 5

[rosecoloredknight]

started off my birthday month by clipping my toe bad :/ blood everywhere, but that's okayyyy - I then went to visit my grandpa so I could wish him a happy birthday!!! The moon was still out there so of course I dropped everything to take pictures of it. t's a lovely morning btw!!

Also, I've been a lending hand for my uncle at his work and he messaged me before visiting grandpa something really frustrating but I'm not going to let him ruin this Friday. I can't wait to get a real stable job. SIGH.

Anyways, bday month ftw 👍🏼

#personal

[reedsaloser]

mmm when i do long ramble things, it’s usually about my younger cousin, and now it’s 9 days until her bday and i’m back on my bullshit.

in 2020 it was 13 days before my cousin’s birthday that our grandma had a seizure at work. then it was 9 days before her birthday that we had a name for the cause: stage 4, terminal brain cancer.

i remember being 16 and sitting with my family discussing what it all meant. the brief time we knew we’d have with a grandma that was as she always had been, but no longer would always be. i stepped away for a minute and peeked into the bathroom where Grandma and kenzi sat making slime potions. my aunt and uncle had just said they weren’t going to tell her about the finality of this cancer yet. there was no recovery, and grandma didn’t want to go through the pain of it all— the chemo, the radiation, the loss of hair, the sickness. she had experienced it all once 6 hears before and had no intention to suffer again.

yet she sat in the bathroom with her almost ten-year old granddaughter and was doing all she could to make memories that could carry her for the rest of her life.

i remember the first family dinner 7 days before my cousin’s birthday where we all sat and played cards at the table. even my grandpa, known to not want to play “those damn card games” sat at the table. grandma sat at the long edge between me and my cousin and taught us (finally) how to play her favorite card game. we had an unofficial rule you needed to be 17, and she threw it out and showed us how. kenzi had no clue why she was playing; if me and her played card games, it was only ever uno or phase ten.

on november 20, 2020, my cousin’s birthday was the last birthday my grandma was fully there for. she could still sign off on her cards with her typical, well practiced hand. she danced and sang and made possibly the worst cupcakes ever (she never could cook or bake, but she loved to try)

it’s not til the last day of march 2021 that i found my cousin had never been told grandma wouldn’t recover.

it’s on that same day that she became like a little sister to me.

i love that kid and now she’s turning 12 and suddenly i’m wondering where all the time went. you were 3 you were 5 you were a blur and now you’re in middle school and you play clarinet because I play clarinet and you want to grow up as passionate about something as i am. you sit next to me in a bingo hall (which grandma would have loved to do with us!) and you and i play grandma’s favorite card game on the couch. and god you love to read and make up songs and every time you do, my heart breaks a little because you’re growing older and when do these days end?

when will you skip out on time with me to be with your friends? when did you become so important? when did i suddenly know your interests and lamaged to find the perfect birthday gifts (i think) for you when your mom couldn’t think of any?

im not sure what the point is here… memory, family, realizing its been 3 years since my grandma sang happy birthday, but anyway

(i can say it spawned from her crying when i said i couldn’t get down to her parents for her bday since i work)

happy early birthday, kid. i hope you never read this

[floral-elixir]

i guess i should give a real update now that people follow me again haha.

idk. i love ryan so much. that boy really is just everything to me. i could not have asked for a better partner to be in love and do life with and i am so happy about the progress jacqi and i have made in our friendship too. polyamory is great and has made navigating my emotions and being able to self sooth so much easier. i’m able to communicate what’s going on with me and say what i need now instead of expecting my partner to pry and get the real answer. i can’t believe i went so long doing that and getting upset that the only ppl who fell for it were also (surprise) very manipulative lmao.

i know that for as much progress as i’ve made, i also still have a shit load of work to do.

i’m very much the child of narcissists and have an avoidant attachment, though i’m working on being mindful of this and doing my best to be more open and secure in my attachments. i’m trying to be more vulnerable with people i don’t know well and be secure in my reality enough to not let them sway me or make me regret it.

dating is so fucking hard, though. every time i find someone cool, there is just this glaring thing that makes me sad. it’s usually some kind of drug dependency and while i hold zero judgement on that in a friendship space, i have to prioritize myself and not let that be something i will accept in a partnership anymore. i’ve not smoked weed for over a year and only took a tiny bit of edible for geni’s bday, so i could relax and fall asleep. my drinking has gone from a few nights a week to maybe once or twice a month. my bottle of adderall has had well over half of the 90 day supply in it for months now. my muscle relaxers i got prescribed from my rib injury, i’ve only taken them to help me sleep when i move too much during the day and feel the muscle starting to cramp again. i haven’t even thought about doing any actual drug off the streets in years. actually, it’s very rare to drink more than one day a week anymore, and honestly, for the better because i was recently diagnosed with fatty liver. i will say that i still struggle with knowing my limit and like to get wasted, but i gotta pull back the reigns on that too or i risk dying like my grandpa did with liver disease.

oh. another thing. i’m so fucking overweight because i stopped drinking and smoking weed. you’d think i’d drop weight from that but nope. can’t cope with weed or drink or drug or pill? time to eat garbage and game for hours, i guess.

i’m trying to turn that into a gym and skating habit though. i miss being skinny. i want to lose the 110lbs i’ve gained the past 3 years.

anyway. if it’s not a drug/alcohol dependency, it’s an attachment style mismatch. i can’t do anxious attachment at all. i don’t have the spoons or bandwidth to text back every hour, especially when i’m working because i work with literal fucking acids and can’t put my focus anywhere else but on what i’m doing. it’s always so hard to put that boundary up too because i KNOW saying that we are incompatible in communication expectations leads to losing an otherwise cool friend but, ya know, it is what it is.

sometimes i want to leave houston. other times, i just could never leave it. it’s sweaty, it’s awful, i hate living here during the allergy seasons so bad, but i have everything i could ever ask for here. the little life i’ve built here means so much to me. i would probably do great in portland or seattle or chicago or new york. but would i like it as much? who knows.

in any case, i’ve decided that i’m going to start ivf treatments in two years with a sperm donor. i want to be a mom. i don’t have anyone in my life who i’d trust enough to be their dad and i am not letting that stop me. insane, prolly. but i make great money now and i know i could do it very easily, childcare costs in mind and all. i am starting to consider using a surrogate though. pregnancy is horrifying.

#that’s it i think #thanks ily #how are you? #gimme deets and updates #33

[huaino]

*gives grandpa a drawing so he keeps getting stronger*

#obey me #obey me lucifer #swd lucifer #happy birthday lucifer #obey me! #man luci is kinda hard for me to draw since i dont know how to do his face #anyways happy bday grandpa! #my art #fanart

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Happy Birthday Deuce! *Swings arm around Deuce’s shoulder’s to bring him in close for a selfie* Your beloved senpai, Cay-kun, has brought you the Light Music Club to play for your birthday! I also found this cute little pillow of a Spade that would brighten your room. And here’s a policeman’s cap I found in a costume shop. Be sure to strive to the heights I know you can! *Fits the cap on Deuce’s head before pulling him in for another selfie*

A flurry of actions sent Deuce into a daze.

First was the tug, followed by the bright light of Cater’s phone camera going off in his face. Next was the spade pillow being haphazardly shoved into his hands while he was still recovering from his upperclassman’s sneak attack. Then the policeman’s cap came down upon his head, set at an angle such that it obscured half of Deuce’s vision.

“Awww, you look so totally cute like that, Deuce-chan~” Cater gushed, wrangling the birthday boy close again. “C’mere, let’s take another pic together before the performance! Saaaaay ‘cheep’!”

“Huh? Don’t you mean ‘cheese’?”

CLICK!!

Again, Cater’s camera went off. A second blossom of light erupted in Deuce’s vision. He winced against it, burying his head in the spade-shaped pillow to grant himself solace in complete darkness.

“Nah! I mean ‘cheep’, cuz chicks are your thing~” Cater laughed, throwing his underclassman a wink—the tip of his tongue poking out teasingly from between his lips.

Already, his fingers were flying across his keyboard, typing up a storm.

Here today celebrating my qt underclassman’s bday! :DD He’s growing up so fast and Cay-kun’s becoming an old grandpa LOL 😂 Let’s all cheer Deuce-chan on, okay? The LMC will cheer him on, too~

#it’s party time #it’s show time too lmao #light music club performance #rae-chan’s attic

“Anyway! Thanks a lot for the photos! I’m going to post them on my Magicam now, so can you give me your account name? I wanna make sure I tag you 🎵”

Deuce pouted, peering out from behind his pillow. With a free hand, he adjusted the policeman’s cap to better fit him. “Next time, please warn me before you start taking pictures, senpai...”

“Aaaah, sorry, sorry! Deuce-chan was just soooo adorable, I couldn’t help it! This kind of cuteness deserves to be shared with the world, you know?”

Deuce heaved a sigh. “... It’s okay, I forgive you. You meant well, so I can’t be mad at you for that.”

“Really? Yaaay, that’s awesome!!” A mischievous glint shone in Cater’s eyes. “Now, about your Magicam account name~”

Fun fact, this is what showed up in the search bar when I was looking for spade-shaped pillows—

#Deuce Spade #Cater Diamond #twst #twisted wonderland #disney ​twisted wonderland #Deuce birthday takeover

[herstarburststories]

He didn’t make it to 42

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: it’s Dean’s birthday, you go to visit him with some news and things that need to be said.

A/N: Happy bday, De.

Warnings: so much angst, mentions of sex, hopeful/happy ending (?)

Dean’s dead. It’s Dean’s birthday and he’s dead. You can’t argue much.

Sam denied the demon blood inside him, and that didn’t stop its evil nature from growing and gasping for his fresh air to the point he was almost shocked alive. Dean denied his dad’s destructive methods’ results for the longest time, and that didn’t stop the cicatrixes in every emotion he had ever shown. You denied the absence of Dean and that didn’t stop the bricks cracking in your soul. There’s only so far you can go with your eyes closed.

So here you are. Standing in front of an empty grave. You are bigger than the dull tombstone, yet you can’t help but not to feel tall, at all. How can you even start to talk? Talking to Dean used to be easy even when it got hard and now you’re feeling like a lost kid in a supermarket. Your snide thinking spells out his name with venom, saying it isn’t easy for you to open your barmy mouth and spill out contrarian shit because this isn’t Dean, just another meaningless symbolism that Sam promises that will help. The real Dean died almost a year ago, he was burned in a hunter’s funeral, the flames dancing over his body as the smell of burnt meat invaded your nostrils. Whenever you try to remember his fragrance, that manly aroma which you loved to scent each morning, all your brain can come up with is the odor of his skin and guts burning. The smell lingers like bad perfume, it doesn’t matter how many times you wash yourself with his soap-- that only broke your heart worse.

But today is Dean’s birthday. He deserves a visit, even if it’s not him. Then you go and attempt to deal with the desolation, push it away just a little, and pick up something from the enormous pile of things you wish to tell Dean. You glance at the cold tombstone: Dean Winchester. 1979 - 2020. Beloved son, big brother, and husband. Hunter. A hero. Simple definitions that can never make it up for who he was and what he meant. You purse your lips and cough a little, a gentle wind touches your cheek so tenderly. If you were still a believer, you’d think this is some sort of sign, Dean’s presence or some other pious hoax. All you do now is to remain in quietude, a deep breath. Ultimately, your voice comes:

‘’You didn’t make it to forty two, huh?’’ You scoff humorless, reminiscing to the multiple days that Dean said he wouldn’t go past 35. He did live each year like it was the last--- you aren’t sure if it's such a good thing. If you carry on like your days are outnumbered, you are silently entertaining yourself until death's knock on your door. ‘’I always hated when you were right. Let’s be honest, you had the words of a pessimist and the wants of an optimist. Still, if you were to be right about something, it would be about a bad situation. A nest with too many vampires, how crappy the motel’s bedroom would be, or how that third glass of wine would make me tipsy. So yeah, I always hated when you were right. And look at you now! You aren’t right, you aren’t wrong. You are dead! And I’m the crazy girl screaming at an empty tombstone.’’

You let out a laugh empty of joy. That’s how a hunter’s life is: you die and people stop talking about you because it’s too sad or too long gone to hold any pity, meanwhile the ones who recall about you go loud with all the spirits in their heads. You put your hand in the pockets of the heavy leather jacket that once belonged to a green eyed man who would be turning 42 today, some strange force causing you to speak again.

‘’Wow.’’ You shake your head to the blue way you paint the scene until you notice that you never greeted him. ‘’Hey.’’ The simple word adds a comical insult to injury. ‘’Guess the dead don’t care about manners, huh?’’ You arch your eyebrows with a grin that demonstrates anything but happiness. ‘’Miracle died. Sam digged a hole next to the bunker and buried him there. He isn’t the same since you died, you know? Not the deceased dog-- Well, he wasn’t the same either. Always whining and scratching your door like a fucking cat, and sniffing your old boots. He made me company in your bed and I whined as much as he did when you didn’t come back home that day. He stood by the door most days, waiting for you to appear. I can’t judge him, I did the same.’’ You shrug, not caring about how risible that confession may look. It's true. You became as irrational as a loyal dog at some point in this sorrow. ‘’And Sam, your baby brother… I think he died with you right there, Dean. He didn’t try to bring you back as he promised, but I shouted and screamed so much. I said I would burn the bunker and throw Baby over a cliff if he didn’t-- if he didn’t let me try. I lived up to the mad woman title.’’

You are crestfallen, pacing on top of where the eldest Winchester - Sam’s brand new nomination -  supposedly was buried. You know your boots barely touch an infected land, there's no deceased man under your steps. The dead thing is in you.

‘’I spent days dragging your body everywhere and nowhere, anywhere I could catch a crumb of relief in hope to bring you back. But I couldn’t. Jack could, but that ungrateful idiot doesn’t wanna follow his grandpa steps and get too attached to mere humans, the creation or whatever. As if we are just some skin and bone to him, as if you are just another human.’’

You sit down on the tombstone, some tender solace in being close to a thing that's supposed to represent him, like sleeping hugged to a pillow or waking up to a photograph of his. Your nails sink against the gelid concrete at the thought of screaming into the sky for the new God that seemed as deaf as the last one. His calm answer to your burning pain. How he dared to tell you he knew what he was doing— as if he was the original lord and not a three years old. You can't make him do it, so you hold on the fury of some overthrown nation.

‘’Anyway, I couldn’t bring you back. Your body, well, you know how human anatomy works. Your body started to smell like death. We tried to stop with human and magic ways, and it wouldn’t work because you were dead. You should’ve seen the doctor’s face when we got you in that fancy hospital tha night. I think we traumatized the doctor with so much violence and trauma. She didn’t even give us a false hope or anything, you know? She just asked about organ donation of what was left. She just wanted to take every little thing out of you, as if you were just another accident on a Tuesday night.’’ Your shake your head as the memories and your points start to mix, it's hard to discern things and keep a straight line when you have an open wound in your insides. ‘’Well, they couldn’t bring you back to life, and neither could Rowena or whatever I looked for. Don’t be mad because I tried, Winchester. You know I’m too stubborn for my own good. I had to try.’’ you refuse to apologize, yet adds the playful words in his eulogy. ‘’But then your body started to stink and God, how could I continue to be so violent to your corpse? That was when I decided to listen to you for the first time and to Sam, so I let you go. I hate you for asking that.’’ What an ambiguous, contradictory truth to bare. You are glimpses of a person for months because of Dean Winchester, still have the energy to argue his selfless logic, just to love him even more. He's got your devotion, but man you can hate him sometimes. ‘’I hate you for going on that stupid hunt. I hate you for being dead, you giant idiot that I love so much.’’ You can't bring your mouth to say loved. "I was always telling you to let the past go and now I’m in love with a dead thing. What a comic way to end our history. I told you that Miracle died, right? I don’t know if dogs go to heaven, but I hope he’s in there with you. I wonder what your heaven is like. I bet it has Whiskey.''

Your dry chuckle makes your notice the tears in your eyes, glistening your orbs as they go like a waterfall to be absorbed by the thirsty land after leaving your cheeks.

"Sam and I-- We tried to make some sense out of this cruelty, but we can’t. You are dead and I can’t seem to put it past me. I still sleep in your bed, and I can still taste your body burning on the roof of my mouth in the quiet nights. I cried this morning because someone asked for a burger, can you believe that? It was so stupid since I used to shake my head and argue with you about cholesterol. Suddenly I was crying at lunch in a restaurant because some stupid kid asked for a burger with extra bacon. They sang Happy birthday to this dumbass child, and I interrupted with my awful crying, and wished that you were celebrating your birthday and not that kid. I guess you could say I wish death upon an innocent child with a problematic eating routine.’’ That was a whole new level of low, as if you are the one wrapped with the sentiment of laying six feet under.

‘’Everyone tells you about how grief is singular and particular with similar emotions that bring people who went through this together. They even have that crap stages thing and all that. You know what they don’t tell you?’’ Your mouth shuts for a moment, like you are waiting some response. You nod as if whatever you were expecting is handed to you. ‘’Grief can be fucking ridiculous. Who cries because of a burger full of oil and cardiac diseases? Who cries because they found a grocery store recipe under her dead boyfriend’s bed? Who falls on the ground screaming in the middle of the mall because they saw a flannel? Who? Those things are so stupid.’’ You smile like there's no tomorrow and the laugh leaving your lips is a treacherous tone. Perhaps you just aren't build up to express joy anymore. ‘’You see it in the movies and in the books and you think, you know, you think to yourself that grieving is being sad on special dates and randomly remembering the loved ones because of some screaming memory, like a flannel or their perfume. Thing is, it’s not just that. All your body seems so small, so tight for all the ache and agony inside it. Your senses go wild, you are not just one person in one place. You’re just the pain everywhere, like being pulled apart and you beg to jump in the fucking grave with them. At least you would be together, at least you would feel like one person and not suffering edges of a broken earthy thing. And--And you start remembering things you didn’t even know you had mesmerized. I look at the ceiling and remember you saying you’d paint it someday. I look at the kitchen and remember me screaming at you for giving Miracle the rest of the food. I smell Sam’s clothes and started crying because hey, they don’t smell like alcohol. You don’t iron them while drinking anymore, so of course they don’t smell like cheap beer.’’ You are chuckling through the tears and it only makes it more monstrous. ‘’Everything is you now that you are gone. Every man has something similar to you, every garden is green as your eyes, and each step sounds like you are coming home. They didn’t prepare me, not for this.’’ You said breathless. A soft single follows. The knife cuts both ways; the empty breeze and the words hurt. Where's the middle term? Where's the limbo? Where's the only safe place for you to rest your weary head?

Out of nowhere, you blurt out, ‘’I can’t masturbate,’’ I know it’s something stupid and even selfish to say, but I think you’d like to know. I can’t masturbate. That’s a part of the whole losing someone process that people are too ashamed to discuss, or maybe they don’t have the urge to be touched anymore because after someone you love dies, after someone-- the hands who touched are dead and cold, you become a haunted object. That’s how I feel most days, like I’m a haunted house because you touched me and now you’re dead and some days I believe I am too.’’ You look around the places. It's beautiful. It's lonely. It has trees and flowers and green. Not as green as Dean's eyes, but it doesn't matter anymore. He doesn't even have eyes at this point. ‘’Well, I can’t masturbate. I can’t touch myself. And I can’t ask someone else either. I tried and ended up punching the guy, Dean. I swear. I panicked when he was between my legs and just punched his nose. You’d have liked it, you were always the jealous kind. I won’t admit that, but I thought it was kinda hot. Especially when you got possessive in sex.’’ A dirty grin appeared on your lips, the echoes of luxury lasting in your eyes for a brief moment. ‘’I don’t think I can be cared for anymore, honestly. Sam tried to hug me when Miracle died and I… It was like I wasn't there. I got frozen in time, and I live in my sleep. In my nightmares you are alive. I  dream about the day you died every week and I used to wake up screaming, but now those nightmares are the only proof you were alive now that you’re as dead as the police report says this time. It was the most painful, calamitous moment for you and I swear it was a nightmare for me, but then I realized that at least I had you there, egoistical or not, I made my nightmare into a dream.’’ You aren't sure which opinion Dean would have on that. Would he understand? Would he shake his head? You wish you can ask him just this one more thing, just beg him to write it down for you on how to be without him here.

You raise on your feet, glaring at the name craved in the concrete. The tears go by still, although they're as usual as the blood in glir veins at this point. ‘’Death is so silly. What it takes, anyway?" Each word conquers more inches of pure wrath. ''People die because they stumbled on their own feet and hit their head somewhere, or they drove their car too close and too fast to the cliff, or because they were giving birth, or because they dated the wrong person, or because they were hunting a fucking vampire and got impaled. What are the chances? How stupid, and idiotic is death? Always creeping and waiting to bite and chew a piece of you-- Taking every scrap of you from me like that’s its right.’’ You are screaming, starting to kick and punch the tombstone with any piece of straight you have. Your limbs hurt and the blood is visible, but you keep going. ‘’YOUR STUPID DOG DIED, DEAN! AND YOU DIED! AND I DIED! SAMMY DIED! YEAH, IS SAID SAMMY! GO AHEAD, TELL ME ONLY YOU CAN CALL HIM THAT.’’ Another punch, your knuckles are ripped. Another kick, your boot as a hole. ‘’DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.’’ Kick. ‘’SAMMY, SAMMY, SAMMY!’’ A punch to each name. Anything to get a reaction, to get comfort. Anything. ‘’YOU CAN’T BECAUSE YOU ARE DEAD.’’ Gasping for something you don't need anymore, sweet oxygen, your eyes are on the tombstone again. And the definitions. And the trees. Your body is sore and aching. It is the kind and coercion no person wants which you needed; the freedom of feeling outside the exact pain that was inside. ‘’You can’t because you are dead. I’ve been playing some sick games in my mind, you know? Sam stopped hunting and had his closure. He was always better at letting go than you and I, but he’s still hurting. I never saw him hurting so much. I think he knows you won’t come back this time, how could you make us promise something like that?  Well, my twisted game is a bunch of misleading what ifs. What if you hadn’t gone after John? What if you hadn’t gone on that last hunt? What if you had stayed with Lisa? At first I didn’t like her much. Jealous, I admit that. But she grew on me. She gave you something I couldn’t back then and I’ll always be thankful for that. And even though it would rip me apart, I’d rather you to die at sixth after living your suburban dream with her. Have another kid besides Ben, maybe a girl this time, and just have that apple pie life. You and Sam would live close and your kids would always play. They’d be as close as brothers. Maybe I’d get a guy and bring my own kids and we could’ve a barbecue and everyone would be happy. But we don’t get soft epilogues here. It ends how it starts, right? Bloody and desperate. I thought maybe, maybe Lisa could understand what’s going through my head now. I drove to her new address and parked close to her house. I must have spent hours there, thinking if I should come in or not, If she somehow remembered after Castiel died or if I could make her brain work again if I told her the truth. But then I just drove back home and fell asleep wrapped in that stupid lumberjack flannel of yours. The one I always mocked, yeah? She may understand me, but I know you wouldn’t want that. You want her, you want me and Sam to be happy. I don’t know if I can do that, Dean. It’s like myt brittle soul shrewd and my body is just waiting to collapse.’’ You signed, overwhelmed by the battle without an anthem. The victory with no triumph. Is it still a win when you don't have someone to come home too? ‘’Your dog died, it’s the first birthday you didn’t live to see, and I bought all the things you told Mrs Butters you wanted for your birthday because it’s your birthday. I just don’t know how to celebrate it with you dead. People stop counting after they die, right? They just say he’d have been 42 or he died at 41. They give melancholy smiles when they wake up and check the day on their phones and a woe atmosphere swallows them for the rest of the day. Then they get better the next day. I think everyday is your birthday.’’ You attempt to wipe away your tears, which only causes your pulsating hand to stain your face red. ‘’Dean, for the first time, what died stayed dead! Congrats.’’ Once again, a hysterical laugh. ‘’I wish but no. What died didn’t stay dead, you are alive, so alive in my head. I swear you are there some days. I wake and watch the door, so sure you’ll come back. Sam says I’m living in delusion and I have to wake up and keep going since that's what you would want. That's enough to make him keep going, but it only makes me angry. Everyone we know and some strangers looks at me like I'm a house on fire and no longer a warm home, like I'm a car accident. They think I don't notice but I do.’’ You look at your boots, the whole is rolling out blood like your hands. You feel closer to Dean. How sick.

‘’Help, I’m still right where you left me." You plea, his love lingering like a bruise. ''I think gravity is overwhelming and it keeps me here. Sometimes it’s like I’m one of those dusted books Sam used to read. Or those Bukowski ones that you hid, so we wouldn’t see how smart you’re. You tried so hard to hide your intelligence because you didn’t think you were entitled to it. You saw yourself as the protector and never the valuable one for protection. You, the man who made an EMF out of an old radio, who rebuilt the Impala from the ground multiple times, and who knew patterns better than any detective. The man who showed me I could rely on someone other than myself. The dude with a lopsided grin, tough hands and a heart of gold. I miss you so much. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing all those classic rock songs and Taylor Swift pop hits, while I drove here. I would think you were home, smelling like guts because you wanted to eat before taking a shower after a hunt. I would think that you are in the Deancave, waiting for me to curl up on your lap to watch Scooby Doo or Doctor Sexy MD until we aren’t watching anymore. If I didn’t know better I would think no death could take you from me. There would be no tear us apart in our vows.’’ The only thing that keeps your organism working is that Dean died knowing how much you loved him. You never let this talk for later or never. No tomorrow is promised. That's a nice comfort, maybe that's what will help you to let go in the future. ‘’But yesterday your stupid, skink dog died and I lost the last living thing that I had from you. You know what’s more angerting? I cried and Sam cried and I noticed we were the living things you left behind and all we have is each other. All your closets of backlogged dreams were left for us-- so yeah. Sam is done hunting and he’s met a lovely girl, and they are moving in like in your domestic dreams. I’m taking care of the family business like your other contradictory dream and making sure Sam is safe enough to be normal. Because I have to, we have too. Stupidly enough, I still wait for the day you’ll burst out the door and tell us to hit the road again. I still watch every episode of your dumb tv shows to make sure I’ll know everything that happened when you ask. I still drive around in your car and close my eyes when the street is calm, only picturing you driving as Baby’s engineers go wild but those are my hands on the steering wheel. If I didn't know better, I’d think you are still around. But I know better. I still feel you all around. I love you.’’

Your monologuing ends as astutely as it stated. You get up, press a kiss to your ruined for the next weeks hands and place it on the rock with writings. You turn around and walk back to the car that you parked near, only in case of Dean wanting to see Baby. How knows? You and your clandestine faith. You lick your lip and get in the car.

You swear you the AC/DC cassette wasn't there before, but when you turn on the car and the radio it starts playing. It's the first true smile that comes to your mouth, it's bloodstained and you look like a shameless woman. With that you can deal.

It hurts a bearable hurt for now. You didn't think it was possible. Maybe someday.

The end.

(she takes a little longer to arive in heaven than sammy. his baby brother says that women are most likely to live around six years more than men. it doesn't ease him up, though. dean waited sam for too long, his platonic soulmate. and now he has to wait his romantic one too? the eldest Winchester considers it the best earthly present when the he sense you around, that smell of orange and apples. it's you, he knows before even turning around. he can't wait to love you again. your name rolls off your tongue so naturally, as if you had seen each other just yesterday: ‘’hey, y/n.’’)

But then again, nothing ever really ends, does it?

REBLOG AND COMMENT. Feedback is magic and helps me!

Starburst's footnote: It just didn't feel right to make an author's note on the top. I wanted it all only to be an arrow to the story. So, this is my side note: it's six am and I'm up writing this after inspiration kissed me with a bruise in the middle of the night. Or more like grabbed my throat. Anyway, I had to write and finish this one to post today, even pushing sleep aside. Hey, we are writers, that's what we do! I've been watching the show since I was eleven and I cried like a baby with the finale. This series was just so important and crucial to molde aspects of relationships for me. The song marjorie by Taylor Swift was used here, and so was the line "you got my devotion/ but man, I can hate you sometimes" by Harry Styles. I told you guys I would use it somewhere! A special thanks to @msmarvelouswinchester​ who helped me with her encouraging and opinon. You are the best! And with all of this I wanna say: Happy bday, Dean Winchester!

REBLOG AND COMMENT! Feedback is magic! Especially about this fic, I’d like to know your opinion. Tags in the reblog! Send an ask or dm to get in the taglist.

#dean winchester #dean's birthday #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester's birthday #dean winchester x you #supernatural #spn #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagines #spn reader insert #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester imagines

[okitagumi]

every single color for the ask box thingy 😽😼 (,if u wanna lol)

Invade my privacy. Do it.

Purple: 10 facts about my room

i used to share it with my sister, my wardrobe is about to fall apart any minute cuz it's old and sucks, i have 3 different fairy lights in there, the walls are white now but they used to be yellow and blue, there's a dent in a wall from the time i threw a chair, the message chair my mother bought my dad for his 40th bday is in my room but it's broken and i dont want it but there's nowhere else to put it, there are also exactly 4 posters of my favorite kpop girlgroup, the bookshelf in my room is actually way too small for all the books im planning to buy in the future but there's no space for another shelf, the lightbulb in my room take a while to fully light up so whenever i turn on the light it gradually .. slowly .... gets brighter, my brother's been trying to get me to switch rooms with him for ages cuz his is smaller but i wont

Blue: 9 facts about my family

albanians from kosovo, i still have relatives living in kosovo but most of my family's abroad (mainly germany, austria and switzerland) by now, i have two younger siblings, i grew up with my siblings and 5 of our cousins in one house until i was 10 so we were 8 kids in total (i was the oldest), i have about 50 cousins in total, my brother got engaged last year on dec 26th and then married just 2 days after, my grandpa was the first in our family to emigrate to germany in 1970 and he went all alone, my dad was born in kosovo two years after that and then came to germany in 1986 when he was 14, my parent's marriage was arranged and my mother had no problem with that but my dad really wasn't happy with it

Green: 8 facts about appearance

my hair's red currently, but naturally it's dark brown, my hair's pretty long like lower back length but also damaged as hell, i'm 5'5 / 165cm, i have dark eyes, also long finger nails and they're a pain sometimes BUT i keep them long because i used to be a huge nail-biter and im proud i could stop that habit, i had straight bangs for a few months but they look terrible now cuz im growing them out, u'll rarely see me without nail polish

Yellow: 7 facts about my childhood

i think i repressed the memory of most of it cuz i barely remember anything tbh lmao, in 3rd grade we had obligatory swimming lessons every 2 weeks and i almost drowned once (i couldnt swim back then and im still a terrible swimmer), i almost hung myself on accident while playing with one of my cousins, watching digimon after kindergarten/elementary school was my biggest happiness, like i said earlier we were eight kids but our parents didn't want to waste money on toys we'd eventually break anyways so we'd always have to come up with games ourselves (like jumping from a small wall onto the binbags in the backyard, throwing stones instead of balls .......), i once got so angry i whacked my brother over the head with a belt buckle and his head bled so hard he had to be driven to the hospital anyways i still cant stand the sight of blood, my cousin and i once played in our grandpa's car but one of us accidentally released the handbreak and the car rolled backwards with us still in it and the adults who were outside freaked OUT

Orange: 6 facts about my home town

it's not really a town it's just a village with a little over 3k ppl, i moved here when i was about 2 years old, then i moved a couple streets away when i was 10 bc my parents were tired of so many people in one house, my 9th/10th grade german teacher lives like 2 minutes away from me, my elemtary school building isn't used anymore cuz they build a new school building right next to it where the park was but the new one's kind ugly (and too small apparently), we have like 5 or 6 cemetries here

Red: 5 facts about my best friend

i dont have one best friend but rather a group of best friends so one fact for each of them: two of them are twins i met 5 years ago, another one has been my friend for like 11 years ? we've never actually met tho but we probably will this year, another one lives in indonesia but we've known each other for pretty much 6 years now, i've met this friend about 6 years ago on twitter too and we love remembering the beef between some of our shared mutuals and friends what a fun time, last one is also from indonesia and i havent known her for as long as the others (maybe 3 years or something) but we grew close so quickly so now instead of our names it's always beloved this beloved that .. everyone's sick of us probbly

Pink: 4 facts about my parents

im not close to my mother at all like she might as well be a stranger to me that's how terrible our relationship is, im kind of close to my dad but even with him it's more of a "i hate you one moment and love you the next" kind of thing, like i said earlier my dad initially didnt want to get married to my mother because no one even asked him lmao his dad was just like "son ... i found a wife for u" and that was that. he accepted it after a while but from what i've heard from my uncles he didn't even want to be in the same room as her at first, they've been married for almost 28 years now

White: 3 facts about my personality

im extremely introverted, doesn't mean i enjoy staying in all the time cuz i also get bored so quickly, it takes a lot to genuinely make me angry

Grey: 2 facts about my favorite things

right now my favorite thing is mahoyaku so i'll just drop 2 facts about that: one of the characters canonically fucked for sugar, another character canonically eats dirt and charcoal and plates (mistook plate for cookie)

Black: 1 fact about the person I like

i dont like anyone tbh

#asks #bussyenthusiast #long post

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: I Have Questions {2}***

Non-Bearded Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: Cursing, NSFW, SMUTTTTTT, DO NOT READ AT WORK

Words: 4.3

Summary: Steve is still acclimating to the twenty-first-century. It’s a simple fact that things in twenty-twenty are drastically different than things in the thirties. He’s been doing what he can to learn and thanks to you his go to source for answers his understanding of this time is setting in. Two and a half months have passed and it is Steve’s birthday. Again, he as a burning question for you.

Note: This was supposed to be for July 4th, Steve’s birthday, but because I don’t plan things and just fly by seat of my pants I started this super late and didn’t finish. With encouragement from @sonjashuterbugjohnson who says it didn’t matter if it was still is bday or not, here is a little Steve bday action.

Thank you guys for reading! 

***Loosely Edited/Proofread**

Previous Part: 1 |

????????????????????

   “You know he wouldn’t want a party to have all those eyes on him,” Wanda said.

 “Sometimes, it doesn’t matter what he wants. He needs this,” Tony added.

 “Him or you?”

 All eyes landed on Tony because everyone knew how Tony was. He scoffed and crossed his legs again. “Ha, you’d think everyone would appreciate the fact that I have enough money to make anyone’s dreams come true, including the great Captain America,” Tony huffed.

 “If you knew him you’d know he doesn’t give a damn about your money,” Sam slid in.

 “Fair enough. Still, none of this has amounted to anything. What exactly is the plan? What does he want?”

All eyes landed on you. Mid chew, you stopped and took all of them in. They thought you knew what Steve wanted. After you swallowed and took a sip of your ginger ale, you straightened.

 “Uh—how exactly am I supposed to know?”

 Nat, Bucky, and Sam smirked to themselves before they looked down. You wondered if they knew. You hadn’t uttered a word to anyone, and you and Steve had been very, very careful. You made sure not to act like you’d seen each other naked. You pretended like you didn’t know how to make his toes curl and he pretended like he didn’t know how you tasted. He did a shit job of it to you, but to others, it was believable. You snuck into each other’s rooms late and usually through the balconies because there were cameras everywhere. You made sure to keep as quiet as possible even though it was the hardest thing you’d ever done. Though Steve was a novice, he had an incredible ability to make your back arch.

 “Okay, you don't know, so how are we going to figure it out?”

 Tony’s impatience was shining through. It was evident once again he was used to getting what he wanted and getting it quickly. You knew what he would want, and a party wasn’t it. Steve liked his solitude, but as of late, he liked something even more than that.

 “A party is definitely not what he wants, though,” you said as you rose and walked out of the conference room, leaving them to deliberate while you found somewhere quiet to finish your food.

 After a quick walk, you found yourself on the room sitting at the ledge with your legs dangling over, just staring out at the most beautiful sunset. It was easy to get lost in it and get lost you did. You didn’t know how long you stared at it, but it was long enough for you to finish your crab salad and move on to your croutons.

 “I knew I’d find you here.” Looking back, you saw Steve walking to you.

 “If it isn’t the birthday boy—or man—or grandpa?”

 Steve rolled his eyes but smirked before he sat beside you. “You’re not funny.”

 Laughing, you popped another crouton into your mouth to loudly crunch on it. “I kinda am.”

 The two of you sat in silence for a few moments before you offered him a crouton. Steve took one and thanked you in his polite century-old way. You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder to finish watching the sun disappear.

 “Happy Birthday Steve.”

 You felt his lips brush your forehead for a tender kiss. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Your belly did backflips.

 “Everyone is looking for you wondering what you want to do for your birthday.”

 Steve sighed before he spoke, “They shouldn’t bother.”

 “A party was brought up,” you informed.

 “Not my style. I’d rather spend it with you quiet, relaxed, and cozy.”

 You smiled and looked at him. “Quiet, relaxed, and cozy, huh?”

 Steve smiled, and again, your belly did flips. “Yes, ma’am.” His lips met yours for a sweet kiss that remained that way. He didn’t try to intensify it at all. It was him saying he was content even if you didn’t have sex.

 The two of you hadn’t defined what it was that you were doing. You hadn’t sat down and talked about it or even come up with a title. You just went with the flow and enjoyed the time you had together. Two and a half months in, and you were still enjoying each other’s company and bodies.

 “I actually have a question,” Steve began.

 You slowly lifted your head. In the last two and a half months, he’d say this every time he was confused about something. Some times it was something easy and like why women showed so much skin now or why men seemed okay to disrespect women. Other times, they were about technology that seemed useless to him, like an electric bottle opener. It took him point two seconds to twist off any top. Then there were times when his questions were reminiscent to the ones that led the two of you down this path. His deep blue eyes met yours, and it only took seconds for you to know just what kind of question it was that he had.

 “I’m all ears, Mr. Rogers.”

 “So I was in Brooklyn passing by a gypsy shop,” Steve began.

 “Gypsy? You mean fortune teller?”

 “Right, that’s what they’re called now. Yes, a fortune teller. I went in and looked around.”

 “Why’d you go in? Did you want to get your future read?” Steve stared at you with a look you couldn’t read.

 “Curious,” he said as he looked away from you. “Anyway, I saw this book that I didn’t know what it meant.”

 “Do you have it?”

 “No, I was going to take it down, but the gyp—fortune-teller came out and recognized me. I had to make a hasty exit,” Steve explained.

 “Okay, what was the book called?”

 “Kama Sutra.”

 Again, your belly flipped, but it didn’t stop after a few seconds it persisted. You actually were having trouble catching your breath.

 “The—Kama Sutra. Wow,” you struggled out.

 “You’ve heard of it?”

 The only thing you could muster was a head nod.

 “What is it?” You just stared at him as everything you knew about the Kama Sutra rushed through your head. There was no way of knowing where to start. You must have been minutes because when you focused again, his mouth was moving.

 “Are you okay?”

 “Oh yeah, totally. Eh-em, the Kama Sutra is um, it’s uh—a oh boy.” You took a deep breath and slowly released it.

 “It’s an ancient Sanskrit text on sexuality, eroticism, and emotional fulfillment. It was translated and made into a book, several actually, and a lot of people use it as a way to enhance their intimate relationships.” You were shocked how professional you made it sound when everything in your head kept echoing “sex, sex, sex, sex.”

 “Sooo, it’s a dirty book,” Steve surmised.

 “No, not dirty. Okay, back in the early nineteenth century, and maybe in your time, it would have been considered scandalous it is not so frowned upon now. Now many people around the world use it as a reference. A lot of people even use it’s—teachings to enhance sex.”

 Steve’s eyebrow shot up, showing his burning curiosity. You smiled and made the decision.

 “Text everyone and tell them you’ve made other plans for your birthday,” you instructed.

 “Just what plans are these?” His smirk was utterly sexy, and you didn’t bother hiding his effect. When Steve saw you bite your bottom lip, he took out his phone and did as you asked. You held your hand out for it, then took yours out and dropped them onto the graveled ground.

 “I think this is also something that is best understood by doing.” You swung your legs over the ledge, planting them on the gravel then stood holding your hand out to him. Steve didn’t hesitate taking your hand and smoothly swooping his legs to plant them on the ground.

 “How will you--,” Steve began before you placed your finger on his lips.

 “Shh. Take off your clothes. I’ll show you.”

 Steve hesitated a moment as he looked around you.

 “Here?”

 “Right here,” you confirmed. Steve scoffed but reached for the buttons of yet another button-down shirt, but once there, he hesitated again.

 “Are you shy, Steve?”

 Your teasing had him unbuttoning his shirt. You watched as he undid button after button until he was peeling it off, showing you that beautifully toned flesh. Sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, you admired every inch of skin then dropped your eyes to his pants. You continued to watch as he removed those as well and kick off his boots. Soon he stood before you in all his glory. Your eyes slowly drank him in and appreciated every inch of him in the new darkness of dusk.

 You bent and used his discarded clothes to make a blanket to cover the gravel. When you stood again, you walked to him then around him. Slowly you trailed your finger along his skin, and slowly, you took in every muscle indentation and every smooth line. He was perfect. You wondered if anyone else would have had these results with the serum. You’d spent countless hours lying awake while he slept just touching him.

 “Are you trying to intimidate me?”

 “Not at all. The Kama Sutra is a lesson in sensuality and erotica. It is not all about racing to the finish line for instant gratification. It teaches patience and trust.” You stopped behind him and placed a kiss right under his shoulder blade and brought your hand down to squeeze his taut ass.

 “Y/N,” Steve warned. You smiled and hugged yourself to him when feeling his abs.

 “What, don’t trust me?”

 “I trust you with everything, including my life,” Steve corrected. Your eyes met, and again, the butterflies fluttered in your belly.

 Stepping in front of him, you kissed him softly once, then twice. Steve immediately intensified the kiss wrapping his arms around you to rest on your ass. You stood there giving him a taste of the sensuality the teachings stressed. Slowly you swirled your tongue around his and sucked it. Steve’s moans awoke the need in you that you’d kept in check for the last two days. When he firmly squeezed your ass, pulling you closer to him, you could feel his need pressing against your belly.

 Steve pulled his lips from yours and unzipped the jacket of your tracksuit then pulled it off of your body. As soon as he let it go, his hands were raising your tank top over your head. In seconds he had your bra off and was peeling off your pants. You could tell you were going to have difficulty with the patience part. Once you were standing before him in nothing but your underwear, he made a move to take that off of you, but your hands on his stopped him.

 “Slow, Steve.”

 “How can I when you look like that?” His lips connected to your shoulder to suck the skin there. You quickly got lost in how good it felt.

 In the last two months, he’d found each and every one of your spots, and he ruthlessly used the knowledge against you. The day you felt his lips here on your neck in the middle of a mission, you knew you were in trouble. Stepping away from him, you took a few calming breaths.

 “Close your eyes,” you ordered. Steve obeyed without protest. You liked that. He was still eager to please.

 Standing there, you got lost in his beauty for a few moments before you stepped close to him and peppered kisses across his chest and down his sternum. When you reached his abs, you gave them the salute they deserved. As you licked and kissed your way down each eight well-defined muscle, Steve’s breathing quickened. His anticipation was increasing. He was anxious to feel your mouth.

 Knowing that you decided to tease him more. When you were close to where he wanted you, you pulled away and kissed your trail back up his body. Steve groaned, and you knew it wasn’t one of pleasure, but displeasure.

 “In the Kama Sutra, it taught on the proper art of seduction. It’s usually a multi-night process of touching, kissing, rubbing, licking, and holding each other with no finish. Each night the couple would do this until they’d reached the pinnacle of need for one another. Once there on that night, there would be a special space for the act of lovemaking to happen. It was supposed to be somewhere that exuded sensuality. We’re improvising just a bit.”

 As you spoke, you kissed each part of his torso leading down to his pulsating member, but you never settled before him; instead, you focused your attention elsewhere.

 “Once at this special place, there was no mad dash for the finish line.”

 You stood, took his hand, and placed it on your breast. He didn’t move, though, he waited. Pleased, you moved his hand for him directing him how to touch you—not that he needed it. Steve had become an expert in your body in such a short time. It was incredible. He gently kneaded your flesh in circular motions before he changed direction only to forcefully pinch your nipple. A moan escaped you.

 In this place, both parties would do everything to increase intimacy, connection.”

 As you spoke, you moved his hand lower across your body, until his fingers teased the waistband of your underwear. He dipped his hand inside and quickly found your soaking core. Fighting the urge to moan again, you bit your bottom lip and allowed him time to explore. Steve pointer and middle fingers spread you while his thumb strummed your aching bud.

 A moan was strangled in your throat, begging to be set free. You fought it to speak. “There are even mentions that if done properly in the sensual act at the highest point of pleasure, a couple can transcend to another plane of consciousness where they could see the stars together.”

 His fingers felt so good, you were close, and he knew it from the subtle way your body trembled. When he moaned, you gripped his biceps to steady yourself. Though you spoke of going slowly, everything in you wanted to go against that and take your pleasure. Steve’s thumb stopped only to have his two fingers delve into your well-coated heat. You gasped out and threw your head back while holding onto him for dear life.

 “Shit,” you whispered. As soon as you said the words, Steve slipped his fingers out and removed his hand. Your eyes and head flew back to him. His eyes were watching you, intently.

 “Teach me more.” He lifted his fingers to his lips and sucked them clean of your juices. He wasn’t playing fair.

 Pulling yourself together, you stepped from him doing your best to steady yourself. “In the Kama Sutra, there were drawn and described positions that were meant to help with a particular function. For instance, there were a few to help with intimacy, some to help with pleasure, and so forth. The best way to learn the Kama Sutra’s teachings on eroticism is to experience them. Come to me, Steve.”

 Slowly Steve walked to you but didn’t touch. “Your first objective is intimacy.”

 “What should I do?”

 “Whatever you like, but keep the objective in mind,” you cautioned.

 Steve’s fingers began a trail at your wrists and brought them up your arms to your shoulders and then down across your shoulder blades to your tailbone. He didn’t stop there. Steve brought his hand around, tracing your hip to your stomach and up to your breasts. Once there, he rolled them between his fingers, making your eyes droop lazily. That was when Steve came in for the surprise kiss that took your breath away. If he was a man that had no experience whatsoever, he was now a man who had all the experience in the world. He swirled his tongue around yours and sucked on it before he nibbled your bottom lip and sucked onto it.

 Fuck, you thought. The man was not fucking around. Steve wrapped his arm behind you and held you flush against him sharing the searing heat of his body and the steady thumping of his heart that matched your own. Steve then dipped you down to your shared clothes blanket and gazed at you as if you were the most precious thing to him.

 “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”

 That damn nickname was going to be the death of you. He kissed you once, then twice, and trailed kisses down your body. His lips wrapped around your nipple, and it felt like an out-of-body experience. He languidly pleased you, teasing your flesh, making you pant as if you’d run a marathon. Steve kissed lower across your belly to nip the skin at your hip. The action had your thighs spreading and dropping back, giving him full access.

 Steve groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me,” Steve huskily groaned out before he dropped his head between your legs and showcased everything he’d learned in the last two months. His movements didn’t speak of urgency; they were the opposite. He moved as if he had all night, and there was nothing more important than your pleasure. When he sucked your throbbing bud into his mouth, your back arched and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. As you felt your release, Steve pulled back.

 “Objective reached?”

 A slow smile spread across your lips as you nodded. “Although I’d say you skipped ahead to your second objective.”

 “Which is?”

 “Pleasure,” you filled in.

 “Question, do you have objectives?”

 “Besides your full comprehension of the topic? Yes. Lie down.”

 Steve changed positions with you giving you access to straddle his abdomen. You could feel his cock pressing against your ass. His hands cupped your breasts and squeezed. His smile was still so innocent and pure. It must have been part of his charm. You kissed him and bit onto his lip. his guttural groan was the response you wanted, as was the nudge against your ass.

 “Be careful how far you tease me, sweetheart.”

 “Can’t take it?”

“I just worry for you when I am finally able to bend you over that ledge,” Steve sexily cautioned. You’d never wanted anything as badly as you wanted him to fuck you into unconsciousness.

 “Long gone is Captain Steve “Language” Rogers of old who didn’t know how to use the power he possessed to make a woman quiver,” you teased.

 “Thank fucking Christ for that, Steve sat. Your gasp had him laughing under the night sky. It was a sound you loved.

 “Captain Rogers,” you feigned shock. You knew damn well how filthy his mouth was behind closed doors. He was not the language police anymore. Steve sat up, wrapped you in his arms, and kissed you like a man confident in his ability to steal the breath from a woman—his woman.

 Your moans were in competition, his wanted full dominance while yours contested for that power. In the end, the battle continued even as his mouth sucked your breast into his mouth yet again. You hugged his head to you and stared at the sky. Thanks to the bright lights of Manhattan, the stars were invisible, but the beauty of the night sky was still easy to see. Pushing Steve back down, you slinked down his body until you came face to face with every eye-bulging inch he possessed.

 The man grew over a foot in height once injected with the serum and packed on over ninety pounds of muscle. The serum hadn’t stopped there, though. Your mouth watered in anticipation, and you could tell he was holding his breath. Deciding not to torture him any longer, you lowered your mouth over his engorged head and moaned when you felt it pulsate inside your mouth. Steve grunted loudly as he nudged up, sending several more inches into your mouth. Nearly gagging, you surprised the reflex and began bobbing on his need.

 Steve didn’t hide how good you were making him feel. He released moan after moan and curse after curse. It was thrilling to hear thee captain America overcome by pleasure and letting it show. You’d never thought about if he were a moaner or not, but you were pleased he was. After a few minutes, Steve’s hands were on your head, directing you, showing you just how far gone he was. When the velvety smooth tip of his cock touched the back of your throat again, you suppressed your gag and took all he offered.

 “Aaaah, fuck—yes!”

 In seconds he’d pulled your head from his length and was sitting up to turn you to the ledge he’d probably been making plans for. He kissed you along your spine before he sucked your earlobe into his mouth.

 “What’s next?” Steve’s voice was rough, but you knew it was just him being less in control of his desires. You could feel his need bobbing at your opening as he smeared your wetness across himself.

 “Connection and pleasure,” you moaned out just as Steve thrust forward, connecting you just as the first crack of fireworks erupted in the sky before you. The thunderous clap engulfed your shout.

 Steve didn’t go slow, and you were glad for it. He hammered into you, clearly needing every inch of your heat. As he fucked you, the fireworks lit up the sky. It was like it was planned just for you. After a few minutes, Steve’s thrusts slowed and became more passionate and sensual.

 “Sit back,” you moaned out. Steve did as you asked and sank back onto his knees in a sitting position. Looking over your shoulder back at him, you couldn’t help but lick your lips seeing his thick need standing right up like a gift waiting for you to receive it.

 “In the Kama Sutra, they call this the cave. It is to enhance intimacy, connection, and ranks high on the pleasure meter,” you explained before you lowered onto his cock. Every inch you sank, Steve groaned deeply. Before he filled you completely, you rotated your hips. When you did, you felt him nudge into you, filling you to the hilt.

 “Oh, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, pressing his forehead to your back. You moved on him first slowly then gradually picking up the speed. You rocked back and forth on him to the rhythm of how the fireworks erupted.

 Steve held you firmly against him and whispered the sweetest things to you, things that had your heart racing for a different reason entirely. When the fireworks picked up, you leaned forward and held onto the ledge then rode him with every intention to have him get as loud as the fireworks. Like clockwork every time you dropped onto his need, he gripped you tightly and let out a loud “ghha.”

 After a few minutes of you in control, he whispered in your ear. “Teach me more.”

 Rising off of him, you laid down. He wasted no time assuming the position and connecting your bodies again. You showcased your acrobatic and raised your legs until they were bent beside your ears.

 “My God,” Steve whispered.

 “A beautiful view,” you said.

 “Damn right it is.” Steve thrust into you, giving you all of him, and it was way too much.

 “Fuck, Steve!”

 The way he plowed into you had you feeling every sensation in the book. Every time he connected your bodies, the thunderclap of the fireworks was the rhythm he moved to. It was seconds before your orgasm overtook everything in you. You gripped him with every muscle you had, forcing a loud shout from him.

 “I’m coming, Steve!”

 As if that was what he needed to hear, he sped his thrusts and never slowed again even when you clenched around him again from yet another orgasm. He changed his angle as he arched onto his knees and dipped down into you.

 You could see his control was completely gone, and you knew he was close. Each encounter he was lasting longer and longer, but no matter the length of the session, he’d leave you exhausted. He thrust once, twice, and third time and you felt his release. As he did, you screamed out together.

 It took a few minutes for both of you to come down from your shared release. Once you did, you laid cuddled together, just watching the rest of the fireworks. It was the perfect night.

 “Happy birthday, Steve.”

 You looked at him as he looked at you. He kissed your nose and then your lips.

 “Thank you, sweetheart.”

 Again you settled in, watching the conclusion of the fireworks and enjoying the intimacy and connection you between you. There was no need for words. You were sure he knew what he meant to you.

 “Did you transcend and see the stars?”

 Steve groaned as he stretched a little. “I always see stars with you.” Your belly fluttered again. He wasn’t the only one who saw stars.

 “How’d you learn all of this?”

 You smiled and looked up at him. “I read a lot.”

 “I bet you do,” Steve responded.

 “You should be happy I have book smarts; otherwise, these lessons wouldn’t be nearly as informational,” you teased.

 “I am happy, incredibly happy. You make me happy.”

 You looked at him again and smiled. The man was on a mission.

 “Same here, old man. What’re you a hundred and two?” You snickered, knowing he hated the poked at his age. Steve rolled onto you.

 “I may be a hundred and two, but I sure can keep up with you young thing.”

 You laughed as he connected your bodies again, but as soon as the pleasure hit you, your laughing ceased immediately.

 “Not laughing anymore, I see,” Steve teased as he rekindled the fire deep within you. It was going to be a long night.

*******************************

#i have questions fic #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x black reader #black fanfiction #steve rogers smut