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ddejavvu · 7 months

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Reader commenting on Spencer’s hands being cold, and he starts excitedly rambling about the best ways to heat them up, like putting them under armpits. Only to get completely thrown back when she stuffs his hands in her under boob to keep them nice and warm and strong :) <3

Your eyes are drawn to Spencer's hands when he starts curling them into fists, rapidly clenching and unclenching them in the chilly Chicago air. You're sitting cross-legged on the stoop of a witness's home, waiting for JJ to return from questioning her. She'd been uneasy with such a heavy government presence in her home, and you don't blame her for it, so you'd elected to stay outside with Reid.

"Cold, Spence?" You ask, and he nods sheepishly, his curls flying.

"I'm trying to get circulation back to my fingers," He explains, shaking his hands out for a brief second before curling them again, "Moving your fingers gets your blood flowing, but there's only so warm I can get in 30-degree weather."

You smile sympathetically at him, watching as his nails dig into his palms once more with a curl of his fingers, "Maybe we can bribe JJ to get us coffee on the way back to the precinct."

"They never give me the sugar I ask for," Spencer laments, shaking out his fingers once more, "I think they think I'm trying to steal their supply, but I really just like having eight packets in one cup."

The snort that you let out releases a puff of visible breath into the cold morning air. As it dissipates Spencer tries breathing into his hands, but his skin is still pale, nail beds dangerously close to turning purple, and you sigh resignedly.

"Come here, Spence," You hold your hands out, and he looks curiously up at you. His head tilts just barely to the side, and you're reminded of a confused puppy.

"Give me your hands," You urge, emphasizing the way that you're holding yours out. He does so without question, but you can tell that you've certainly improved circulation to his face, because his cheeks are blazing hot with a rosy blush when he obeys.

"Body heat really helps," You promise, unzipping the fabric of your FBI windbreaker. You hold both of Spencer's hands in your free hand now, but when your jacket is properly unzipped you lead his hands straight to your torso. They're posed on your ribcage, and Spencer stills, watching the way that they touch you with wide eyes.

"Under- there," You slip his hands up an inch, letting them slip into the space beneath your bra, your skin flushed with natural heat that soaks into Spencer's veins like sunlight to a wilting plant. Contrary to the body heat now flooding his limbs he's frozen, eyes wide and jaw slack as you stuff his hands beneath your chest.

"That better?" You ask, shimmying slightly in place and jostling his hands. Your bra slips further over the backs of his hands and only makes them warmer, enveloping him in even more of your body heat. He gulps, you actually see his throat bob, and nods silently, still leaned forwards to take in more of your warmth.

"Thanks," He breathes, trying very hard, and failing very miserably, to pretend like he's not about to combust.

You're almost certain that his hands are barely thawed at all when JJ steps abruptly out of the front doors of the building, and her boots skid to a stop in front of you and Spencer. You glance up at her with a warm smile, but Spencer yanks his hands away, wringing them out in his lap with wide eyes.

"Uh, she was- we were just... my hands-" Spencer babbles, and the more he struggles, the more her smirk grows over her face.

"His hands were cold," You explain, reaching out to grab them once more and squeezing the barely-tepid skin, "Let's hurry and get into the car, we can turn the heat on full blast."

You've seen Spencer exhibit a mild jog while chasing unsubs, his gun held at his side like it's a bag of bricks, but he skitters to the SUV faster than you've ever seen him move, leaving you and JJ behind on the steps of the apartment building.

"So, did he put his hands there, or did you?" JJ asks, and you don't need to see her face; you know from the mirth in her voice that she's still smirking as you stand up.

"I did," You grunt, trying very hard, and failing very miserably, to pretend like you're not about to combust, "He was shivering, JJ. What was I supposed to do, let him freeze to death?"

"No, no," She raises her hands in a gesture of surrender but her voice still contains that sadistic amusement, "You're right. A word of advice, though: next time, stick his hands between your thighs. It's a lot warmer down there."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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ohimsummer · 4 months

Text

IT'S TOO COLD ft. BULLY! SUGURU

— minors dni, anal, closet sex, bully! suguru x fem! reader, dubcon, fingering (anal), creampie, fem! reader, begging, pet names (puppy, darling), ending is a little rushed :'DD

An icy breeze creeps through the cracks of your clothes, any inch of fabric careless enough not to shield you from cool winds. Your body lay way more unprotected than you were comfortable with, considering you were dressed for a brisk 70 degrees and not 15 degrees colder.

It’s appalling how the forecast could possibly be this inaccurate, but you’ve braved the weather so far, having no time to stop by your room for a jacket. Sure, the wind sent your little sundress fluttering and raised goosebumps on any bare patch of skin, but at least you weren’t late for any classes?

“You’re gonna catch a cold like that.”

At the sound of his voice, your feet fix themselves to the ground. You hadn’t even spotted him, too caught up in rushing to your final lecture and the comforting thought of a nice, warm nap after a day of classes.

You turn to watch Geto approach, clad in a dark sweater beneath a darker hooded coat, one he unzips as he draws nearer. He holds the garment out for you to take, amused at the doubt clouded over your expression.

“Come on, darling, you want my arm to get tired?,” he rushes you.

You cross arms over your chest, partially for warmth, partially in defiance, and unintentionally smushing your breasts up perfectly for Geto to get an eyeful, mumbling. “I don’t need your jacket.”

He raises a brow, eyes lingering on your shivering legs for less than innocent reasons, before flashing you his signature, calming grin. “Sure you don’t. Put it on, anyway.”

The subsequent pout of your bottom lip reminds him of Gojo. “But I d-“

“Now.” And you recognize the menacing look in his eyes, a forewarning to obey or else.

Without a word, you snatch the oversized jacket from him, slotting your arms through the spacious sleeves, and zipping it up to your chin. The length of it brushes your knees, and admittedly, you’re grateful for the extra coverage.

“There.,” as the collar of the jacket engulfs the lower half of your face. “Happy now?”

Geto pads even closer, chilly hands grazing your cheeks and ears to send a shiver up your spine, and pulls the hood over your head. He tugs at the strings to tighten it a little, brushing off complaints about your hair to make sure it fits snug.

“Perfect.,” he hums and pats the top of your head. “Though…”

A curious look plasters itself on your face as Geto tilts his head, gaze traveling from your head to toe, stopping again on the rest of your barren legs, and settling on your eyes. ‘C’mon’ he mutters with a hand around your wrist, essentially dragging you in the opposite direction.

“G-Geto!,” you quiet your protests to avoid judgmental stares. “I was g-, let go of me, I was going to class!”

He doesn’t break his gait, pulling you behind him to who-knows-where, your objections flowing straight over his head with the accompanying frigid gusts. Sounds of feet scuffing the ground as you fight against Geto’s steady strides, though to no avail as he slips you both into the campus’s art building. The halls are vacant, slightly less cold than outside, no noise except the loudening sound of drums and instruments as he guides you down a hall destined for trumpet players and the like.

You two arrive at an ordinary, brown door, a storage closet. Geto manhandles the knob, heaving it open with his shoulder against the wood, and gestures you inside. Glancing left and right and seeing no witnesses, you tiptoe inside, nerves worsening as Geto shuts the door behind you.

You mutter, “It’s dark in here.” And as if on cue, a dim, yellowish light fills the small room. Geto’s hand wraps around a dingy string tailing from a single lightbulb, before he walks forward to corner you against a tiny sink stuffed in the room.

“Wh-what are you–?,” croaks out, interrupted by him spinning you around to bend over the porcelain fixture.

“ ‘M warming you up.,” he replies, hands ducking beneath the jacket and your dress to glide up and down your thighs. “You felt pretty cold earlier, can’t let you walk around like that. I’ll help you out before sending you on your way.”

You crane your neck to look at him. Geto looks so much bigger cramped in this tiny janitor’s closet amidst forgotten cleaning supplies and gloomy concrete walls.

“Geto–“

“Suguru.,” he corrects.

You huff, brows furrowing at him, though his eyes are locked on the sight of your exposed panties from where he’s bundled both the jacket and your dress around your waist. “Suguru, I got a lecture to get to, and I’m running late–“

“Mhm.”

You clench at the sensation of something hard against your ass, rambling, “A–nd it’s important, we’re doing group–, group assignments–“

A loud ripping sound and your panties are gone, then the sound of spitting followed by a warm something dripping down the seam of your ass. “Tell me all about it, darling.”

Something prods at your puckered hole, and your lungs shrivel inside your ribcage. You choke out, “Su-Suguru, I really, really–,” a whine as his slick finger breaches your hole, “need to be in cla–ss!” He sinks knuckle-deep into the tight orifice, wriggling around before pumping a few shallow thrusts. Wetness builds between your legs, that knowing ache forming in your core as Geto stills the writhing of your hips with his other hand.

“Geto-!,” a corrective ‘smack’ that leaves a hot sting on your ass, yelping ‘oh!’ before you continue pleading. “Suguru, cut it out, I really can’t fail this class!”

“Of course you can’t.,” Geto says automatically, clearly not listening, too busy stuffing another finger in to prep your hole. His dick twitches as another glob of spit drops from his lips, soaking between his fingers as they stretch your little opening. He scissors them apart, earning a gasp from you, before retrieving them as Geto’s now decided you’re ready.

“Look at that, you feel warmer already.”, he laughs softly, hands tracing the expanse of your skin, trailing up your lower back to feel the new heat radiating off you.

Of course Geto’s right, his playtime with your hole has blossomed a scorching heat over your body, coated in a sheen of sweat, a blazing throb between your thighs. The mass of his chest weighs on your back, Geto’s hand moving over one of yours to lace your fingers together on the edge of the sink; wet sounds of him thrusting into his hand fill the room, and your asshole clenches when you feel something much larger breaching your inside.

“S-Suguru!,” you whine, clutching the smooth porcelain as his tip forces it’s way into your entrance. “O-oh fuck, wait!”

Geto ignores your pleas, already halfway in. Your neck tingles under the vibration of his groan, hot breath on your neck, and Geto makes himself at home amongst the tightness of your walls, you squeezing around his dick as he buries himself deeper. “Fuck. So tight, loosen up, darling.”

His leaking tip drags along your walls, and you both synchronize an unbroken moan when he finally bottoms out in you, flush against your ass. The fullness of it feels funny, but you don’t have time to dwell on it as Geto draws out, before slamming back inside and sending you careening forward. Choked whines echo amidst the small room, mingling with Geto’s low, animalistic grunts, and the occasional curse entwined with rasps of ‘feels so fucking good ’ and ‘god, you’re gonna snap my dick off’. He nibbles on your neck, sucks a dark bruise on the skin, a hand trailing down to balance your leg on the edge of the sink. You embed teeth into your fist, suddenly fearful of passerby overhearing your activities, though it in turn prompts Geto to force a deeper arch in your back, your ass rippling as he ruts into your behind.

Your needy pussy clenches around nothing, clit aching for some kind of stimulation but both of your hands are busy. “Suguru–! O-oh god, please!”

Geto tightens his grip, further entangling your fingers, leaning to press you down some more. “Please what? You want me to touch you?”

You nod with a whine, earning a hard thrust before mewling out, “Yes, yes!”

Geto hums in thought, lips brushing behind your shoulder, and pants ,” Well?” and when he notices the knit of your brows. “Start begging then.”

“But–“

“Ah, ah, I’m waiting.” And he presses a rough kiss to your cheek. The hand on your hip creeps ever closer to your core, tracing over the crease of your thighs but not daring to go any further. A babble of pleas fall off your tongue, tears threatening to slip down your cheeks as your pussy yearns for some kind of stimulation.

“I’m being such a good g-girl for you, Sugu, your good pup–py.”

Aw, aren’t you cute, pulling out the little nickname you’d angrily sworn at them to never use. ‘Why would I ever use that, I don’t even like you.’ Suguru licks up your jawline, smothering your neck in another layer of sloppy kisses. You pull your drool-soaked fist from your mouth, lips quivering. Geto looks through lustful eyes to meet your needy, wide-eyed gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips at your subtle pout.

"Pretty please, Suguru, I really want it...", you whine.

You're such a sight for sore eyes, Geto thinks, tongue darting over his lips as he finally dips a finger between your folds. He's immediately met with your cry, watching your head fall as he massages the swollen nub under his middle finger, basking in the desperate mewls of his name that leave you.

"I wanna cum with you, Sugu, please, please, feels so, s-so good..”

Geto's smile widens. "Yeah?” You nod eagerly. “Ask politely, like a good puppy, and I’ll let you."

His fingers plunge deep into your spasming hole, leaking juices down to his wrist, the rough thrusts of his cock leaving words to catch in your throat. Your release is just around the corner, and it's a struggle to hold back the way Geto is pounding into you, with his thumb still pressing circles into your clit.

"May I please cum with you, Sugu, please, please, please?", you whimper into the back of your hand.

A short silence follows. Geto's way of toying with you further. The way you squeeze around his fingers and dick make it evident you're close, but he just wants to see. Is his puppy really gonna go ahead and cum without his say so?

"Please–!" It's taking all your strength, and you don't know how much longer you can hold out. "Suguru, fuck, I-I might–“

And his answer feels like a blessing in your ears. "Go ahead, darling. Cum with me."

You let out a broken, choked moan, trembling in Geto's hands as your orgasm sends you over the edge. He thinks you just might actually cut off his dick the way you contract around him, groaning against your neck as he releases thick strings of cum into your entrance. Geto spreads your ass cheeks wide as he pulls out. Globs of his cum dribble out your tight hole, trailing down to mix with the cum leaking from your cunt. If not for Suguru holding you up, surely you would have collapsed on the floor, legs weak and useless in keeping you upright. Geto gives your ass a little smack, before readjusting your dress and his jacket to make you look a little more decent.

"There, all done.," he says. "Want me to walk you to class, now?"

You roll your eyes, shivering and gulping in air. Of course he’s wants to be funny with his cum running down your legs. Between shaky breaths, you rasp, "It's too–, far too late for that."

tagz: @anthoosies today i offer u bully suguru, tomorrow….who knowz

#suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #bully!suguru #geto x reader smut #suguru x reader #suguru x reader smut

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leonw4nter · 4 months

Text

Hold Me, Hold Me, I'm Your Bunny

RE2R!Leon x F!Reader AU

“It’s cold, rookie. Go put on a jacket,” Marvin tells Leon.

His superior isn’t wrong; the night had turned out to be a bit more chilly than Leon had anticipated, which prompted him not to bring a jacket or coat– not that this bothered him; he didn’t get cold easily and acted as a walking heater to anyone who wanted to feel a little warm and fuzzy.

“I’m fine, sir. Thank you,” he responds with a tired smile.

Ever the gentleman that he is, a gloved hand flies up to cover his mouth as he yawns, a small puff of steam billowing out of his mouth. As much as he loves his job, there’s no place he’d rather be than at home with his girl, cuddling and joining the rest of the world in dreamland but alas here he is– duty calls. Calloused fingers threaded through strands the color of wheat, slightly causing his usually neat hair to appear slightly fluffy. He turns his head, summer sky blues trained in the vast darkness to look out for any threat that he could quell. He does this for about an hour or two– or four… or five. He lost count, distracted by the biting cold that slowly started to settle in his bones. Pink settled in Leon’s cheeks and the tips of his ears, adding color like watercolor to a blank canvas; goosebumps rose on his arms and on the back of his neck, jaw clenching to keep his teeth from chattering. He did his best to look as if the cold wasn’t causing him some discomfort, only rubbing his hands together for warmth every now and then. 2:45 AM, his black sports watch reads. “She’s probably asleep by now,” he fondly thinks as the corners of his lips curl skyward. “At least she’s warm and cozy,” he wistfully adds, the feeling of his body craving sleep growing even stronger with each passing moment.

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7:35 AM, he finally gets to head home after a long and cold night; he feels odd, a lot more susceptible to getting cold. The patrol car’s air conditioning felt several degrees colder, even if neither he nor Marvin changed the temperature and he felt a lot tired. After shifts like that, he always felt tired but this kind of exhaustion is different; it’s like his body weighed a lot more and he felt a headache slowly crawl up on him. He blamed these odd sensations on not drinking enough water, gaze falling on the thermos his girlfriend bought him as a reminder to hydrate often. He takes the bottle and drinks from it, dampening his dry throat only for his throat to feel a lot weirder and the water making him feel slightly nauseous. Marvin picks up on Leon’s sudden paleness, a frown placed on his chapped lips.

“Rookie, you alright? You don’t look like your usual self right now,” Marvin observes. Stopping at a red light he takes the opportunity to look at Leon, the rookie leaning against the corner near the door and shivering, rubbing his hands together to try and stay warm.

“Yeah. Just… a little cold… and tired,” Leon responds, flashing him a tiny smile, an attempt to downplay what he thinks is a fever going on. Regret on not bringing a coat or jacket sets in, knowing his error will cause his girl to worry for him on top of all the workload she already has.

“You sure, kid? You don’t look too good right now,” Marvin adds.

“Promise, L.T. It’s just been a long night,” Leon reassures.

They finally arrive at the station, Leon’s head spinning slightly since he got carsick from the overwhelming sensations in the car ride back to the precinct to gather his things before clocking out only to groan when he realizes he has to use a car to get back home as well. Grabbing his backpack, he waves the officers bye and heads out. Even with the sun’s rays not fully beaming down on the slowly waking world, he squints his eyes and closes them for a bit, finding it too bright. With a tired sigh and a silent prayer that he doesn’t collapse from exhaustion on the way home, he walks over to the side of the road and waits for a cab to come and pick him up whilst also fighting the urge to hunch over at the sidewalk and hurl.

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He finally reaches home, resisting the urge to doze off on the floor within minutes of unlocking the front door. With a groan, he hobbles over to the medicine cabinet and takes some Advil before heading up the stairs. He forces himself to take a quick shower to cool himself off before grabbing some plaid pajama bottoms and a worn out gray sweater from the police academy. He draws the curtains, slides into bed and huddles under the sheets before turning his body to face your side of the bed, inching his face nearer to your pillow and inhaling the scent of your coconut shampoo. Just before he decides to take a nap, he takes his phone and sends you a message saying that he’s home. Even with the curtains already drawn he still finds the day too bright for his delicate eyes so he pulls the duvet over his head, closing his eyes and eventually falling asleep.

You get home to a dark and silent apartment, the lack of Leon anywhere throwing you off. Closing the door, you drop your bag off at the couch before heading upstairs to the bedroom. “Honey?,” You call out. At first you don’t get a response but you do hear a low groan coming from the bedroom. You finally reach the door and push it open to be met with the faint warm glow of your bedside lamp and your boyfriend huddled nicely in the sheets. He shoots you a small grin but you know something is up with him with the way he doesn’t get up and practically lunge at you for a hug.

“Sick,” he quietly says, readjusting his position again and pats your spot beside him. You walk over to the side of the bed and place the back of your hand against his forehead to feel for his temperature. You leave his side for a few minutes, only to come back with a thermometer. After double checking his temperature, you finally confirm that he has a fever. “How’d you get sick?,” you ask him as you pat his fluffy hair. “Stood out in the cold from 10 PM to 7 AM, no jacket,” he sheepishly says. His response earns a small frown from you, going off into a lecture about how he should’ve brought something to keep him warm because the temperatures are a lot more extreme these days to which he nodded and mumbled an “mhm”. You place a small kiss on his forehead, telling him that you’ll make dinner for the both of you before getting in bed to cuddle with him. He nods and smiles, probably the brightest smile he could muster for today before turning over and dozing off again.

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“Dinner’s ready,” you softly say in a sing-song voice as you bring in rice porridge on a tray, along with a bowl of cut-up fruit, and a glass of water. You set the tray down before helping Leon sit up, propping the pillows up on his back so he’d be cozy. You drag a chair beside him, waiting for him to take the bowl and start eating but he doesn’t.

“Why aren’t you eating yet?,” you ask.

“Can you feed me? Please?,” he asks as he shoots you the most kicked puppy dog eyes ever. He takes his hands together in prayer position, mumbling please and saying something along the lines of letting the patient have complete rest.

“God, you’re so cringe,” you scoff but you still decide to grab the bowl and give him spoons full of the porridge. Your boyfriend can be a bit silly sometimes but it’s why you love him. He takes a large bite, a pleased hum coming from him as he swallows down the food. “Taste good?,” you ask which he responds to with a smile and a thumbs-up. While Leon’s still got some porridge in his mouth, you take the time to contact his superior about Leon’s sick leave for two to three days.

“Umm, hi. I’m Y/N, Leon’s girlfriend and I called because he’s going to be on sick leave for two to three days, he came down with a fever so I hope you’d understand,” you say to the phone.

Leon simply looks at you with a slight look of surprise in his eyes; he already mentally noted that he’d call up Marvin later on after his dinner but turns out his thoughtful girlfriend had beat him to it. Looking up from his bowl, he keeps his gaze on you as you converse with Marvin, his heart thumping in his chest whenever you smile. The call went on for a few minutes before it finally ended, walking back to Leon’s side only to see his bowl finished.

“Your boss sounded a little surprised to hear that you’ve got a girlfriend,” you shyly say with a giddy grin. Leon laughs softly, running his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, I don’t talk about you a lot at work– not- not because I don’t love you or a-anything, no– it’s, well, you know–,” he stammers which causes you to smile sweetly with your eyes squinting slightly and he swears he just fell in love all over again.

“I don’t have um– l-lots of y’know– friends at the station– there’s only Marvin,” he finally finishes. He realizes he sounds a lot like his pre-girlfriend self from when he first decided to ask you out on a date, back when eye contact with you and a simple graze of your fingers got his system undergoing a factory reset (not that things have changed: he’s still having factory resets from when you touch him).

“Well, I should stop by at work when you get back and I dunno– maybe get you lunch and kiss you in front of everyone,” you joke as you take his hand and place a kiss.

“God I need to get well soon,” he responds. He looks a lot less miserable now but still very much feverish.

“Hey I meant that as a joke–,” you say.

“Nuh-uh,” he says as he waves his pointer finger in front of you. “You need to keep your word or else I’ll be sad.”

“Fine, fine but only because I love you,”

“I love you more.”

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Soon, it’s time for bed and you get into the sheets with him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into the nook of his neck.

“Baby you’re going to get sick too if you’re too close to me,” he softly says as he pats your hair.

“That’s not so bad if you get to take care of me,” you softly respond with a smile before placing a tender kiss on his neck. He shifts his position so now he’s the smaller spoon and you get to hold him like a stuffed animal. A pleased sigh could be heard under his breath as one hand strokes his back and gives him a soft pat while the other strokes his hair. “It’s not so bad being sick,” he happily thinks to himself– not that you don’t take care of him, of course you do, but the experience of being taken care of when he’s unable to care for himself brings a comfortable feeling of assurance that you’ll be right by him when things get rough; you’ll be there for him as a ray of sunlight on a cloudy day, an umbrella underneath the pouring rain, and a warm drink on a chilly night.

With your care and constant reminder to take pills and drink water, he managed to get better after two days and is clear to get back to work (bringing along a coat with him, of course; you’d flip if he got sick due to being out in the cold again). The brightness of his eyes have returned and he’s back to being the golden retriever, greeting everyone a ‘good morning’ before settling his things down at his desk and working on papers that piled up while he was gone. Stretching his fingers and grabbing a pen from a cup in his desk he takes a sheet and starts signing and going through reports whilst sipping his coffee, very much in a good mood. Marvin decided to let him work on reports first and not start patrolling around since he just got back from a fever and deemed it best that he shouldn’t move around just yet. After working for several hours straight he finally finishes his workload, just needing to file these reports away– the only task left before Marvin hands him a new set. Stretching his lower back and rolling his shoulders, he grabs his coat and wallet to head out and grab lunch.

“Officer Kennedy please report to the front desk,” the intercom blares. With a slightly frustrated sigh, he mentally prepares himself that he might have to skip out on lunch as he heads to where he’s needed.

“Good noon, ma’am– Baby!” he happily exclaims. His entire face brightens up and he beams brightly, running over to you and pulling you in for a tight hug as he rocks you from side to side. After a bone-crushing hug, he pulls away but he keeps his hands on your waist.

“It’s so good to see you. What are you doing here?,” he asks. His blue eyes were like waters, his gaze pulling you under and deeper into the spell he cast on you.

“Lunch. Kept my promise from days ago just like you wanted.”

“So… I’ll finally get that kiss in front of others?”

“Maybe. If you want–”

“I do want it so… come here.” Leon says with a cocky smirk as he pulls you in for a tender kiss.

NOTE - If this is a little bad then I'm really sorry because this fic has been marinating in my docs for 2 weeks now and I kinda lost the idea mid-write so... yeah (I also finished this fic during math class because the question I got for an activity is so damn DIFFICULT-- KILLING MYSELF I HATE MATH I HATE THIS SHIT SO BAD FUCK MATH). Anyways, I'll try to write for RE4R!Leon soon-- I just love RE2R!Leon a lil tew much hihi ;) The title is taken from a lyric in a song called "Puppy Princess". I'll be busy in the next coming weeks so I won't be posting a lot. I'm going to try and make my fics look a lot more cute soon so ermm yeah that's it!! I hope you really liked it :) (also I ordered Leon photocards saur... the horrors are endless but I stay silly)

The dividers (lace and ribbon respectively) are from @plutism and @baefleurs , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy #resident evil #fluff #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil 2 #re2r #re2 remake

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visionarymode · 5 months

Text

Winter Whispers

✧ warnings: smut, language, 18+

✧ pairing: roman reigns x female reader

✧ word count: 2,832

“God, it’s fucking freezing out there,” he breathed out as he shut the door behind him.

“Baby I told you to just leave it for tomorrow,” you sighed, getting up from the couch to walk over to him. Your jaw dropped at his bright red nose as he rubbed his hands together. He looked so cute all bundled up with his black beanie and thick jacket.

“Oh my god,” you giggled, still baffled that he wanted to go outside in this negative degree weather to shovel the snow. Yet he insisted that it wouldn’t be a big deal and he’d be quick. You grabbed his big, cold hands to wrap your own tiny, warm ones around them as you got on your tip toes to kiss him. His lips were so cold yet still so soft.

“Mm,” he hummed as he went in for seconds. “I feel warmer already…” he deeply mumbled against your lips making you lazily grin with your low eyelids focused on his own pearly whites.

“Let me get daddy some hot chocolate first,” you giggled as he playfully grabbed a handful of your ass.

You walked over to the kitchen counter and added whipped cream to both mugs and topped it off with some mini marshmallows and chocolate drizzle. You couldn’t help but stare at his gorgeous self as he cleared his throat, took off his jacket, and slicked back a few strands of hair falling in his face from his messy bun. He caught you looking and quickly steered your attention at the drinks in front of you as he licked his lips and ran his hand over his thick beard. You felt your cheeks flush as you heard him chuckle at your embarrassment. He got himself comfortable on the big couch as you grabbed both mugs and headed over join him.

“Thanks baby,” he smiled as he took a sip of the mug, dramatically fluttering his eyes as he licked the remaining whipped cream from his lips.

“Good huh?” you giggled, plopping your self next to him as you swung your legs over his lap.

“Mhm,” he mumbled as be took another sip, his other hand gently rubbing on your bare leg. His subtly eyed your exposed skin as be lowered the mug from his lips that he licked, watching you as you teasingly bent your knee and rocked it side to side making his gaze slowly peer up your entire body. You were wearing an oversized ugly christmas sweater with nothing but panties underneath and some long fuzzy socks.

“What?” you chuckled, as he raised his brows, a smirk creeping up on his lips. He loved your subtle yet scandalous little outfits you always put together.

Your eyes focused on his as you took a sip from your mug, purposefully letting some slip on your bottom lip. You wiped it with your thumb and laughed at his sudden tight, frustrated grip on your lower leg.

“Quit your little games and come sit on daddy’s lap…” he deeply ordered as he snaked his hand up your thigh. You placed your mug on the coffee table and obliged as you hopped on his lap. You heard him wince as he turned his body to set his own mug on the table.

“Are you okay?” you asked worriedly, furrowing your brows at his sudden pain.

“Yeah…my shoulders just a little sore from the shoveling,” he grunted, looking back up at you as he scratched his beard.

“Just a little?” you asked again, your tone slightly above a whisper as you softly smoothed your hands up and down his upper arms. You knew he was undermining how painful it really was, he was always one to not make you worry.

“Yes…just a little,” he not so convincingly reassured, pulling you in by your sweater to place a kiss on your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck allowing your foreheads to press together as he ran his hands up and down your back. He cupped the side of your face, keeping you close as he sensually took his time exploring your mouth with his thick, warm tongue.

“You’re still cold,” you whispered with a frown, feeling him shiver a little beneath you as his face still felt chilly.

“But…you’re helping…a lot,” he whispered back in between kisses. Your lips stayed connected on the last one, both of you transferring some extra love and lust towards the other as your fingers brushed his beard. He sniffled a little, making you hide your laugh at his still bright red nose.

“What?” he asked, playfully furrowing his brows as you played with his sweater strings.

“Your nose is so red. You look like Rudolph,” you teased with a giggle.

“Oh I’m Rudolph now?” he sarcastically asked with a deep tone, brushing strands of your hair out of your eyes.

“It’s cute though,” you reassured, your hands resting on the sides of his neck as you leaned in to kiss his chilled nose. You pecked it again as your thumbs softly swiped across his freckles sprawled under his eyes.

“It makes your freckles pop,” you softly spoke, kissing each freckled side. He wrapped both arms around you, pulling you as close to his chest as possible with another little grunt, and you knew it was once again from his soreness.

“I know you’re in pain,” you pulled back to whisper, running your hands up and down his biceps again as he lovingly gazed at your concern, his eyes crinkling from his smile.

“Sweetheart…I’m fine,” he reassured once again against your lips with his big, plump soft ones. You both exchanged about five short and audible kisses before you came up with your own offer.

“You sure? I could give daddy a little massage…” you bribed, trying to hide your taunting smile. You delicately and dedicatedly dug your fingers into his shoulders to show him a preview as he pleasingly inhaled from the temporary relief.

“Uh huh…” you mocked as he closed his eyes from the wonders of your fingers.

“That does feel good…” he pleasantly responded, his eyes still closed as he licked his lips.

“Mhm…a little massage…and a nice, hot shower will make daddy feel real good” you whispered as you snaked your hands down his chest and stomach, picking the hem black hoodie, reaching further underneath to pick at his long sleeve. Your little grind against his bulge got him to open those deep brown eyes of his as he bucked his hips in response.

“Oh yeah?” he deeply asked slightly above a whisper, his eyes fixated on your bare thighs as they slowly gazed up your body and eventually up your hungry, inviting eyes. He ran his big hands over your tiny body, cupping your breasts, a smirk creeping on his lips as his right hand found your cheek to cup it, pulling you down onto his laid body. You both moaned as your lips found each other, tongues enticingly swirling to savor each other’s sweet and cocoa taste.

“You’re so beautiful…” he groaned between kisses and head turns as he squeezed your ass cheeks, using them as leverage to rub against his hard on. You satisfyingly exhaled as his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head to grab a handful of your hair to pull on, exposing your neck. He left sloppy, wet kisses down your jaw making you bite your lip as you felt your panties get wetter…and wetter…

“Mmm…” he deeply moaned as he slid his thick, warm tongue along your neck. A hushed gasp escaped your lips as he sucked on your sweet spot, his large hand tightly squeezing your right ass cheek as you let yourself unapologetically ride his bulge.

“Roman…” you moaned his name as his lips audibly smacked against your sensitive skin.

“What sweetheart?” he asked as his hands smoothly ran up your lower back and around your hips to tightly grip them as he removed his lips from your neck to gaze up at your flushed face.

“Hm?” he pressured again, running his thumb across your glossy, wet bottom lip as your lost eyes never left his sinister ones.

“Wanna hit the shower with me?” he whisperingly asked as your lips naturally parted, allowing him to slowly slip his thumb inside and along your warm tongue, making you suck on it.

“Mhm,” you nodded with a not so innocent grin, his thumb fondling with your lip again as he flashed his own pearly whites. You yelped as he suddenly scooped you up into his arms. Your legs naturally wrapping around his torso, giggling as he spanked you while heading up the stairs.

“You can put me down I don’t wanna make your shoulders worse,” you expressed in worry again as he kissed his teeth in disagreement. He placed you on the counter, gently grabbing you by the throat as your lips brushed together.

“Stop…worrying…about my body…and let me fuck yours,” he growled. You practically moaned watching him slowly and torturously take off his shirt, exposing his tanned, tatted, and muscular body. You slipped off your own sweater, exposing your black laced bra and panties while he turned on the water on.

“You’re so perfect…you know that?” he softly asked once he turned back around, keeping his fascinated and loving eyes on you, tilting your chin up with his finger while the other one found your back to unclip your bra. It fell in your lap before he snatched it and threw it on the floor making you grin against his lips. Your legs clutched to his waist as he easily scooped you back up in his arms. You both exchanged a slow kiss, smiling against each others lips as he stepped inside the shower. You couldn’t help but feel guilty about him continuously carrying you with his sore muscles but he instantly made you forget as his tongue wrestled yours. You got lost in his juicy and wet lips and forgot you were even under the running shower by how quickly you both got wet. You gasped as he dropped you down and spun you around without warning, grabbing your hands to place on the wall as he pressed the tip of his dick between your ass cheeks. He held both of your hands up above your head with his left hand, the right one hooking right under your panties to feel your wet lace.

“Baby…” you moaned as he left sloppy kisses down your back, his hands roaming around your curves as he knelt on the floor. You felt his hands grope your ass cheeks, the sudden poke of his teeth on your skin as he held the hem of your laced panties with his teeth, sliding them off as you lifted each leg to help him.

“Good girl…” he muttered with the lace still between his teeth, smacking your ass again as you turned around at the sight. You bit your lip, lovingly gazing up at his tall figure, soaked in water as it dripped down his body…making you snatch the panties between his teeth and throwing it over the rod. His lips found your neck again, making your eyes flutter as your right hand reached below to stroke his slippery, hard, and tanned dick in your palm.

“You wet for daddy?” he moaned in your ear, his two middle fingers sliding up and down between your sticky, slick folds making you gasp from his touch.

“Yes…” you whined as he slowed down the pace of his slithering fingers between your folds, teasing his long middle one against your hole. His dick was rock hard against your belly as he grabbed your throat with his other free hand, keeping a tight grip on your neck while that thumb and forefinger toyed with your jaw.

“Please…” you begged with a gasp as he slowly slipped his middle finger inside of you.

“Hm?” he taunted, placing his wet lips on yours. You panted between the slippery kisses as you nodded, hoping he’d fulfill your begging needs.

He removed his finger to slide it against his tongue, enclosing his lips around it as he tasted your needy, sweet juices. He picked you up and pinned you against the dripping wall, his left arm wrapped around your lower back as his right grabbed his dick.

“I got you baby girl…” he cooed with a reassuring, sexy nod as he dragged his streaming tip along your soaked entrance making your mouth drop open. He dragged it in vertical strokes a couple times before slipping his entire length inside of you with ease, making you both moan at the familiar and pleasureful reunion. He started with nice, slow, easy thrusts as you both moaned against each others tongues. You jerked in his arms, struggling to stay still as your legs tightened around his waist.

“Feel good baby?” he groaned, the fast droplets of water falling between his lips as he spoke, pulling you right back in between them as you bit his soaked bottom lip.

“Yes…fuuuuuck,” you cried out with a gasp, his thrusts intensifying, the sound of his doused balls slapping against your wet skin growing louder, and the parting of his mouth widening from his gratifying bliss watching you in pleasure.

“Like that sweetheart? You like daddy’s dick?” he moaned as his hand slid over your drizzling thigh and around your ass to spank it.

“Y-Y-Yesyesyes…” you loudly moaned, your left arm sliding off his neck to cup the right side of his wet and glistening bearded face. Water dripping down his dampened strands of hair and parted lips as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your head fell back to the wall for a split second before a new wave of warm, shocking pleasure sparked your lower belly making your head fall forward onto his forehead. He slid his tongue into your mouth to get another whine out of you as he subtly slowed down his thrusts.

“You gon’ cum sweetheart? You gon’ cum for daddy?” he deeply whispered yet was so audible over the loud drops of water from the shower head and your wet bodies smacking against each other. He held you tight as he took a step back to get you both covered right underneath the water, slapping your right ass cheek.

“Yes daddy…” you gasped as he picked you further up against the wall, slowly sliding you back down the tiles at the same pace of his tongue as it licked you between your middle breast bone and back up to your neck as his dick slipped right back in you. You felt like you were seeing stars as your eyes fluttered uncontrollably, your breasts bouncing frantically against his soaked and tatted chest, and his moans filling your ear as he pumped his length in and out of your overstimulated pussy.

“I-I-I’m gonna cum,” you moaned with heavy pants as the his grip around your body and left thigh tightened. You felt your walls contract around his throbbing dick, his thrusts quickening by the millisecond. Your eyes struggled to stay open, the water hurriedly dripping down your fluttering eyelashes.

“Cum with me sweetheart…cum all over daddy’s dick,” he coached you as his heavy grunts heightened. Watching him soaked, in pure bliss, and hearing him call you your favorite name sent you right over the edge as you shut your eyes with one last loud and high pitched moan as your orgasm took complete control. He thrusted one last time inside of you, keeping his dick deep inside your gushing walls as his own warm and creamy cum filled you up. Your arms stayed wrapped around his neck and both of your heavy breathing slowed down to peaceful ones as he removed a couple wet strands of your bangs out of your face.

“I love you…” you whispered against his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, a smile spreading across those dripping lips.

“I love you more sweetheart,” he confessed with a passionate kiss, slowly dropping you back down to the floor, both of his thumbs still cradling the sides of your face.

“Real shower time?” you asked with a giggle. He nodded as he flashed his pearly whites, using his right hand to move his hair out of his face.

“Real shower time. C’mon now…” he teasingly ordered as he ran his fingers through your hair, grabbing your shampoo with his other hand.

“No…you first. Your body needs a break,” you tried grabbing the bottle out of his hand but he snatched it away.

“Break?” he asked with a chuckle. He poured some into his hands, lathering it up as he rubbed them together.

“Baby-”

“Baby…” he cooed back as he interrupted, spinning you around by the waist as he started massaging your scalp with the shampoo.

“We gonna get cleaned up….and then I’m gonna make this pretty pussy cum all over again once we done.”

✧✧✧✧✧

thank you so much for reading! <3 I hope y’all enjoyed it ✨ happy holidays ✨

if you want to be added to my tag list let me know :)

you can read more of my fics here ❤️‍🔥

tag list ♡ @harmshake @cyberdejos2 @hangermads-s @foreverlyjay @sassginaswanmills @theninthwonder @jeyusos-girl @bebesobrielo @2-muchsauce @southerngirl41 @allmyn1ghts @venusesworld @alyyaanna @gomussy @jstarr86 @nayys-world @mainthingdoja @empressdede @skyesthebomb @geekinstilettos @zzedah @justazzi @mzv11 @msbigredmachine @smile1318 @pixieduststyles94 @pinkpantheris

#roman reigns #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns imagine

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cranberryjuice-posts · 1 month

Note

hear me out please please

Clarisse La Rue with a bimbo girlfriend like her gf is gorgeous but a bit slow and she loves to show her affection to Clarisse and every one knows there together but people still throw themselves at fem reader

Clarisse La Rue x fem reader who is the daughter of Aphrodite and she had a nightmare and goes to clarisse for comfort

- Barbie world -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Bimbo! Reader

An - FUCK guys please im literally an athletic artistic fem lesbian why does no one love me 😭

“But im not Cold” You hummed tilting your head to the side. Standing in front of you Logan held out his letter man jacket trying to pass it over.

“But You Are It’s 67 degrees out, you’ve gotta be a little chilly” he grinned still trying to push the jacket to you.

You shook your head. “If I was i would ask clarisse for her jacket.

“Clarisse isnt here though, so I think you should just put my jacket on. We don’t want you getting cold”

Considering it for a moment you almost reached out. Your hand only stopping when you heard a voice you loved threaten behind you. “Fuck off Logan, stop harassing my girlfriend”

Clarisse wrapped a protective hand around your waist. Looking at you for a moment she smiled with a soft “hi”; kissing you quickly before turning her attention to the nervous demigod.

“It wasn’t like That Common” he chuckled trying to play it off. Clarisse obviously didn’t believe him, in fact she found it amusing he was trying to cover his ass.

“Baby you have anything you wanna say to him” she looked down at you. Happily wrapping your arms around clarisse you leaned into the hug, “I love my girlfriend”

“Yeah You do” she smiled flipping off Logan while walking away with you. Clarisse wasn’t going to threaten him, at least not in front of you she’d rather just wait until morning.

••

“Im sorry” You frowned sitting on the ares cabin porch with clarisse.

She sighed looking sweetly into your eyes. “Don’t worry about it ok, it was his fault for flirting with you anyways” her calloused hand ran up and down your thighs, occasionally bumping into the edge of your shorts.

“But I didn’t know he was flirting with me” with a heavy sigh you placed your hand over clarisses. “I don’t want anyone but you why can’t everyone just know that”

“I know Baby” clarisse chuckled leaning into you placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Wanna stay the night?”

“Yeah” You giggled slightly, with the help of clarisse you got up and walking into the cabin.

••

Sitting by the Aphrodite table you gossiped and laughed with some of the other girls. The occasional wave to clarisse here and there, you slid out from the stone table to get some more food.

Todays Outfit was simple, deciding on a denim miniskirt a white cardigan and a tight camp tanktop toy had cut up to show cleavage.

Only a few steps past the ares table you felt someone slap your ass. Turning around upset then first thing you saw was clarisse punching the culprit with a French toast bite in her mouth.

You stumbled back slightly, tripping over your shoes. It took three of clarisses bothers and Chiron to get her off the boy who was coming in and out of conciousness.

“Don’t fuck with me Logan!” She yelled with a busted lip from his hand hitting her. her curls were displaced and her body tense like she might fight the next person she sees.

Reaching out clarisse flinched slightly from your hands. Realizing you were only trying to hold her she quickly leaned into you, letting you cup her face.

Examining her swelling lip you led you hands down to hers. Instead of saying anything you just walked her away from the growing crowd and towards the infirmary

Silently dabbing the alcohol soaked cotton on her lip you tried to not get to emotional. “Thank you”

Clarisse Just hummed in Response, softly squeezing your thighs from the sharp pain of the alcohol. “I’m not gonna let someone assault you and get away with it”

Setting the cotton aside you ghosted your thumb over her healing cut. Leaning down you kissed her chapped lips. You didn’t know what you did to deserve her.

••

By the next morning Logan had bad luck suspiciously latched onto him, and his beloved talent in sports had suddenly faded away aswell. Maybe because you and clarisse coincidently asked your parents to curse him or maybe he was just having a bad day. It was really a question left up for the fates.

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you

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the-head-ancho-chilli · 1 year

Text

The Hashira and their Sense of Humor

Apologies for the hiatus! A lot has happened over the last couple of months and I'm finally getting some of them (somewhat) resolved through therapy and A LOT of patience with myself. So here's a post that I written back in October that brings me so much joy! Thank you all for your patience ^^

Word count: 2k~

Mitsuri Kanroji

You know those types of people who want to tell you a really funny story but they need to stop laughing first?

And they've been laughing for the past fifteen minutes?

Yeah that's Mitsuri

I'm not entirely sure what to categorize this either than comedic storytelling

She could probably be a standup comedian too, she has some good stories to tell

But Mitsuri is really in her element when when someone else is telling a mildly amusing story

She will just keep adding onto it to somehow make it even more funnier than it was originally intended

Misturi could make an inside joke between you guys too, she is the designated funny friend of the Hashira

I also feel like she sometimes makes self-deprecating jokes, but not on any serious topics

Like she enjoys poking fun at the fact that she's still single

For an example, Mitsuri and Shinobu could be making an order at a restaurant for lunch

By the time Mitsuri finishes her first round of food and hands the dishes to the waiter, she accidentally drops them causing all the plates and bowls to shatter all over the floor

She tries to help clean up but the staff insists that she shouldn't worry about it

Sitting back down with Shinobu, cheeks red from embarrassment, Mitsuri will crack an awkward smile and say "Yeah, this is why I'm still single!"

Obanai Iguro

Obanai is the most sarcastic motherfucker on this list

I feel like his number one policy is "Don't ask me stupid questions"

He's already annoyed like 70% of the time, just don't annoy him even more

But then again...

"Hey Obanai, did you lose this?" "No I was just playing hide and seek with an inanimate object for fun, YES I fucking dropped it"

"You look really tired, are you doing okay?" "Hell yeah, nothing says healthy like eye bags as dark as my hair"

"Can I pet your snake?" "Yeah you just gotta let him nibble you first but don't worry, he's only venomous"

Usually he's kinda rude about it but he does have his nice moments

"Hey Obanai, can you pass me that?" Obanai will just say no but hand and just hand it to you anyways

Some people just don't understand sarcasm all the time and that's when he kinda runs into some trouble

Obanai and Kyojuro were walking to a meeting together, but Obanai had forgotten his jacket AND haori

It was quite chilly outside too, so poor Obanai was shivering while trying to keep Kaburamaru warm

Kyojuro asked Obanai "My friend, winter is coming! Aren't you cold?"

Obanai deadpanned and said "Of course not, I'm just practicing my acting. Glad to see that my shivering is that convincing"

"How interesting! Maybe you should audition for a play at the theatre!"

Obanai's annoyance kept him warm for the rest of the day

Tengen Uzui

Quite an obvious statement, but Tengen’s humor mainly comprises of sex jokes and innuendos

The man has three wives, of course he would find that shit funny

Like he will be in the middle of a meeting, and everyone will line up to receive some gifts from Kagaya

He will say "Come in a straight line, my students"

Tengen will chuckle and say "That's what she said"

Tengen is also the type to be "gay with the homies" and loves to embarrass Sanemi and Obanai by making jokes about being in love or hooking up with them

He chooses specifically those two because it felt awkward to make the jokes to Gyomei

Tengen once spent forty-five minutes explaining to Kyojuro that he didn't actually want to buy him dinner after Kyojuro gave him a genuinely offended look to the highest degree

"How deceitful of you, Tengen"

He pretty much wrote off saying jokes like that to Kyojuro following that incident, but he really can't help himself sometimes

I don't think that Tengen solely has generic innuendos he uses on everyone, he likes testing what SPECIFIC category of sex jokes makes people uncomfortable

Like if Giyu goes to the bathroom, Tengen will saunter up with a finger gun on his chin and ask "Pissing all by yourself, handsome?"

Everyone is throwing their shoes at him

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Of course this sadistic bastard likes slapstick, what we’re you thinking?

He may be good at holding in a laugh, but you can still see that stupid smirk on his face if anyone stumbles

One time Tengen's six foot ass fell face first while running late to a meeting

Sanemi actually struggled to keep his composure that day, he had to bite his lips together to hide the uncontrollable grin on his face

People getting smacked upside the head, tripping others, people getting violently angry, Sanemi loves it all

He refuses to admit that Zenitsu is funny

Now a regular civilian is one thing, but children getting roughed up is another

there was a particular incident where Sanemi had come across some kids swinging on a tree branch near a market he occasionally visited

This week ass branch definitely didn't have the strength to hold up any of those kids

So Sanemi did what any sane person would, and stuck around to watch this disaster happen

Well unfortunately for this one child, the branch snapped mid-swing and fell right on their face

And there was Sanemi, a hand over his stomach from laughing at these dumb kids

He didn't even stop to help them or anything, just calmed down from laughing so hard and walked away to continue shopping

Shinobu Kocho

An absolute queen of insult humor

Even Sanemi can’t beat Shinobu at her best

Do you even think she would stick with the basic ass jokes? Of course not

She can be an absolute menace if she really wants to

Shinobu is just tired of everyone's shit, and she can get even more exhausted from putting on that smile nearly as much as Kyojuro

She just can't keep up

Which brings me to my main point, which is that Shinobu's funny side usually comes out in rants or vents with the people closest to her

She and Mitsuri both express their humor by storytelling, Shinobu's just originates more from anger an annoyance rather than an effort to be entertaining

Regardless of who Shinobu's around, everyone can tell that when she walks through the door with steam coming out of her ears, everyone's gonna be laughing their asses off

As anyone can agree if they've worked in any form of customer service, there are some days where you are so damn close to breaking your cool

When Tengen got placed in the Butterfly Estate's infirmary, Shinobu was actually going to kill a patient instead of saving them for once

Like this man was just demanding shit and teasing his friend left and right, and Aoi had never been so afraid of her mentor in her entire life

Aoi tried to calm her down, "Sticks and stones Shinobu, don't let him get to you!"

Tengen only snickered

Ooooo, she lost her shit

"Sticks and stones may break my bones but PLEASE. FUCK. OFF"

Angy Shinobu is best Shinobu

Kyojuro Rengoku

Look me in the eyes and tell me Kyojuro doesn’t like puns

I know you can't do it

He will howl with laughter nearly every time you tell him a pun

"Hey Kyo, you're never gonna believe it! Remember my friend with a bakery? Well it just burned down!"

At first he'll show genuine concern, politely shouting "How unfortunate!"

"Don't worry about it, his business is toast"

Give him a minute...

"Ahahaha! Good one!"

Not only does he like being told puns, but if he has a good opportunity to tell a well timed pun he will not stop giggling until he tells it

One time you, Tengen, Mitsuri, and Kyojuro were all trying to decide where to eat after a long day of work

At one point Tengen suggested hotpot, even offering to take you all to one that Makio and Suma liked

Kyojuro tried muffling his laughing, but his attention was redirected when you asked him what he thought of the idea

Finally able to cease his giggles, Kyojuro proudly shouted "SOUPER"

It doesn't matter if you find the joke funny or not, Kyojuro's laughter is so contagious that you're dying at the silly pun

What a fucking dork <3

Giyu Tomioka

If there was a form of comedy that’s applicable at any given moment, Giyu would use it on a daily basis

Luckily for him, Giyu discovered it very quicky and refuses to let the tactic go

That's right, Giyu is physically incapable of stopping himself from making a "your mom" joke

Everyone can blame Obanai for that one

Quite literally at any opportunity, Giyu will mutter the phrase under his breath

Unfortunately, because it has become such an unconscious thing for Giyu, this bad habit of his ends up kicking his ass at the worst of times

with all due respect to Giyu's efforts, it just makes him unintentionally funny

in an awkward way

Giyu visited one of his favourite restaurants on his day off, the waiter asked "Is there anything else you would like, sir?" after giving his order

Now Giyu didn't mean it, he really didn't

It just slipped out of his mouth so easily

"Your mom"

Let me tell you, the silence was absolutely deafening

After the two stared at each other in mutual confusion, Giyu just wordlessly left due to the sheer embarrassment and awkwardness he had caused

He tried to go back, truly, Giyu made the effort and walked through the door

But he made uncomfortable eye contact with that same waiter and walked out

He hasn't gone back to that restaurant since ;,)

Gyomei Himijima

I have already established in my Gyomei Headcannons post that Gyomei is the dad friend of the Hashira (go check out that post if you haven’t btw ^^)

So of course he's going to make dad jokes, everyone saw this coming

God forbid you ever complain around him, he will see it as an opportunity (usually)

"Man, I'm really hungry" Gyomei will hand you a bento box and say "Hi hungry, I'm prepared

He is THAT GUY that makes "I haven't seen you since last year!" jokes

Every single year without fail

Shockingly, Gyomei and Kyojuro will bond over their mutual love for super corny jokes

One time while training Genya, Gyomei asked him "Child, what is long and sticky?"

Genya paused his routine to think for a moment, slightly disturbed by the question

"I don't know what you- fresh mochi?" Gyomei shook his head

Genya made a claw gesture with his hands, knowing Gyomei couldn't see it

"No idea, what's long and sticky?"

Gyomei gave a small, sly smile before responding

"A stick, little one"

To be honest, Gyomei's jokes do annoy some of the Hashira whenever he makes them (mainly Shinobu, Obanai and Tengen)

Normally because he's so calm about it

Tengen usually is one to lose his temper over it though

"You really got a joke for about everything, huh?" "Indeed I do, Tengen. I even have one about construction"

Tengen's eye will twitch as he taunts Gyomei "Oh yeah? Well let's hear it then!"

"I'm afraid I can't, my friend. I'm still working on it"

Kyojuro's laugh echoes throughout the meeting as Tengen realizes he most definitely walked into that one

Muichiro Tokito

His sense of humor is weird

That’s all I have, anything that Muichiro finds funny is actually kinda strange

He does this thing where he will go in with a fistbump, but change it to a high five last second

Muichiro can do it the other way around too, but regardless it results in this silly fist-five thing that makes him chuckle

He's a little bit of a devious child so his sense of humor kinda comes from whatever will annoy the other Hashira

Sometimes he will sit in the middle of a meeting and just blow raspberries while spacing out a little

It annoys the fuck out of Sanemi and Obanai because Muichiro's spit gets EVERYWHERE

Even Giyu thinks that kid comes with his own splash zone

He's not one for pranks per say, but he likes reaping a bit of terror amongst the other Hashira

One time Muichiro stole Tengen's red eyeliner one weekend purely for entertainment

the next day when everyone showed up to the meeting, people got to witness a very distressed Tengen

Holding up Sanemi and Obanai midair by the collar of their shirts, Tengen interrogated the both of them where they hid his shockingly expensive liner

Of course no one would suspect the slobbering kid, who was inconspicuously blowing raspberries

Had anyone asked Muichiro if he saw Tengen's liner, Muichiro would turn to the fuming man and giggle

Secretly, Aoi is Muichiro's unknowing accomplice in these scenarios

"Here Aoi, could you hold this for a while?" "Uhh, sure? What is it for?" "Hmm? Oh nothing..."

Don't underestimate this little shit

꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚ ꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚ ꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚

Hey y’all! Hope you liked this post, it was such a pleasure to write it ^^

I’m hoping that now I’ll be able to write more for this blog now that I have more time, and I have more posts lined up in the future :)

Ask box and requests are still open, just please read the rules before submitting anything!

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undiscovered-horizon · 11 months

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"Man of Faith" - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

SUMMARY: With the Sun Summoner on board, Stumhond's attention seems to be captivated by the living Saint. While you know how important she is to him in terms of politics, you can't help but start to feel jealous. Nikolai, however, stays true to his only faith.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.4k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

The night breeze feels cold when it brushes against your cheeks. Although you feel an uncomfortable shiver run down your spine, the chilly air is refreshing, revitalizing. Salty ocean water sprays your skin as the ship lazily cuts through the endless waters. Swooshing of the heavy waves hitting the vessel and the drawn-out creaking of boards interrupt the otherwise silent hours. The black, starry sky is reflecting in the equally black waters, making it hard to say where lies the horizon - firmament glistens both above your head and beneath your feet.

Leaning against the railing, you allow yourself a sigh of defeat. You shake your head at the bitter, lead-like weight in your abdomen. This phantom has refused to let you go ever since the Sun Summoner boarded the ship but it’s hardly her fault. Truly, it’s not His fault either, even if he’s part of your problem, following her around and eagerly asking every question that came to his mind. It’s like you’re not here at all, you think to yourself but quickly discard this awful idea with a shake of your head.

No matter how much you refuse to admit it, you’re jealous. In your mind, it’s very logical and rational to get neurotic - he’s an heir to the throne, she’s the Sun Summoner and you… are a pirate. Although your lovesick heart is defending Nikolai with all its might, your sensibility is feeding you a plethora of horrible scenarios that, to some degree, you’re aware are not very probable. Still, they’re not impossible.

You rub your face in a vain attempt to calm yourself down and gain control over your emotions. This is stupid. He’s just interested in an interesting person, nothing beyond that. All of the flustering, and frankly embarrassing, confessions of love he’s given you, can’t just be undone in two days… can they?

The sound of slow footsteps distracts you from your spiralling thoughts. You turn around only to see the man you’ve been agonizing over as though one of the Saints had heard you and, out of annoyance rather than goodwill, sent him your way to clear this perplexing misunderstanding. His blond locks float on the gusts of cold breeze. There’s an undeniable softness to his expression, even if his eyebrows raise slightly in worry. Despite the overwhelming darkness of the night on the open ocean, he looks nothing short of breathtaking.

And you, through unimaginable luck, are the only thing that steals his breath.

"I was looking for you,” he says in a gentle voice. Jealousy mixes with guilt and shame inside you - Nikolai probably thinks something serious happened but no, it’s you getting into your own head.

"Something's the matter?" you deflect his inquiry.

"Actually, I wanted to ask you that.” Nikolai leans on his elbow on the railing, his torso turned towards you. He’s standing close enough for his frock coat to brush against you - it’s smooth and velvety, as though water could be sawn into a garment. “You seemed upset earlier."

"Oh, it's nothing, really.” You dismiss him with a vague wave of your hand. “Don't worry."

Nikolai lets out a short sigh. He takes off his coat and puts it around your shoulders. "I always worry about you,” he says as he’s casually fixing the jacket to cover most of your body.

The familiar scent fills your nostrils immediately. Perhaps it’s the additional layer of clothing or his hand resting on your lower back that’s making you warm up significantly. In any event, his overwhelming presence, engulfing you in an embrace of comfort and security, momentarily shakes you sober from your grim thoughts. Like having a bucket of cold water thrown at your head, you’re wondering how you could ever question his devotion.

“A treasure?” Nikolai repeats after the old whaler. The stench of booze is surrounding the retired, one-eyed sailor like a hallucinogenic aura. “I’ve already found her, thank you.”

Doubt, however, is a relentless beast. Maybe you’ve been the recipient of his affection simply by a chance of convenience? You’ve always been there, waiting for Nikolai to pay you attention. But then you inhale again, the scent of resin and seaweed filling your nostrils, and the doubt vanishes once more as the fog does in the early morning hours.

"This is going to sound really stupid and selfish,” you confess.

"I want to hear it anyway."

Nikolai’s hand reaches for yours, fingers intertwining without either of you thinking about it. His thumb is gently rubbing circles into your skin. Some reflexes are scratched into bones, escaping human willingness.

“It’s just…” You cut yourself off before you can finish. Embarrassed at what you’re about to tell him, you look away, admiring the faraway stars reflecting off the black water. In an unconscious motion, Nikolai cranes his neck to try and see more of your face. “Ever since Alina boarded the ship, you’ve been quite preoccupied with her and I… I think I’ve grown used to having your undivided attention. For the most part, at least. And that made me wonder whether I’m underwhelming compared to the Sun Summoner herself.”

Finally, you dare look back towards him. As you could have expected, he looks just as lovestruck as he usually does - not a wrinkle suggests that he’s angry with you for making a show of your jealousy or doubting his devotion. In fact, that upturned corner of his mouth makes him look genuinely amused with this course of events. Somewhere during your circular way of expressing envy, he only heard you admit how much you yearn for his attention.

"You thought I'm more interested in Alina Starkov than you?" he asks, laughter hiding inside his voice. "Hey, look at me.” Nikolai lifts his hand to your cheek, first brushing his finger against your skin before his whole palm cups your face. "I would have to lose my damn mind and even then I'd fall in love with you again if you just glanced in my direction."

“I know how important she is to you, Коля," you whisper, nervous that someone might pick up on the secret only you've been privy to so far. It nearly escapes your attention that his smile grows a little hearing you say his name. “It’s not your fault I’m being a little selfish. I just need to get a grip. You really shouldn’t worry.”

Nikolai’s hand drops from your face to hold your hand again. He brings your fingers to his lips, placing a soft kiss on them. It’s tender, like everything else he does towards you. Sometimes you wonder whether this gentleness is a conscious choice or if he’s physically incapable of directing any harshness at you.

"I could have an army of Sun Summoners and you’d still be the only Saint I’m praying to day and night.”

You scoff at his cheesy poetics. Laughing to yourself, you shake your head at him. "Oh, please, there is nothing holy about me."

With the hand he’s been resting on your lower back Nikolai pulls you even closer to him. He lets go of your fingers, placing his free hand on the side of your head, forcing you to look at him - not that you have anything against doing so.

"I beg to differ,” he begins in a low, surprisingly serious voice. “Ever since I saw you for the first time, I can't think about anything else. I don't want to. When you’re not with me I can’t focus until I find you and when I do, I feel like nothing can stand in my way. I could lose everything but if you’re by my side, I know I’m saved.” Nikolai rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. “You're the closest thing to godhood I've ever seen."

You inhale sharply suddenly feeling his warm lips against yours. His hands are pulling you closer to him, deepening the kiss. It’s both loving and desperate as though he’s expecting you to vanish into thin air at any moment; like he can’t quite believe he has the rest of his life to adore you.

To your disappointment, Nikolai pulls away from you after a long while but keeps a rather impressive lack of distance as your noses brush against each other. In a breathy voice, he whispers:

"You're the only prayer I need to make me feel blessed."

“Just kiss me again, милый мой.”

A quiet chuckle leaves his lips. “As you wish.”

Without wasting time, he’s kissing you again - hungrily, feverishly, reluctantly pulling away every now and then to catch his breath, only to resume this consuming pastime with insatiable desire.

_____

Коля [ko-lya] - short for Nikolai

Милый мой [me-lee moy] - my darling (masculine)

#shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x you #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai imagines #nikolai x reader #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #sturmhond #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov my beloved

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starrystevie · 1 year

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steve loves the warmer months. he loves the tail end of spring that bleeds into summer, the feeling of sun on his skin and sleeping with a window open. he's the person who puts all of his warm winter clothes away the second the weather starts turning and refuses to get them back out again even if it's chilly because he doesn't want to jinx the weather back into being cold.

their false spring came early with a day reaching up to 81 degrees in march that had steve sitting in a lounge chair in the backyard, his shirt sleeves rolled up and head tilted to the sun like a cat in a warm spot. he went back inside later that evening with his cheeks tinged baby pink and feeling warmed to the core only to shove his coats back into storage and get out his summer clothes.

but the warmth seeped away as soon as it came and they were back in a cold snap full of defrosting cars and sleeping with the windows fully shut.

steve's pouty, his arms halfway covered by an old baseball tee as he shivers against the brisk air outside of eddie's house to pick him up for their date. he rubs his hands over his arms trying to get some warmth back into them, bouncing on his toes slightly. the second eddie opens the door, steve pushes past him into the warmth with his arms wrapped around his center to keep whatever body heat he could in.

"cold?" eddie asks with a smug grin, nice and warm under his leather jacket as steve sends him back a playful sneer. see, eddie loves the cold weather, despises when he starts to sweat under all his layers and hides away in the shade to outrun the sun's heat.

"not cold, just a little chilly, that's all."

eddie rolls his eyes and grabs a sweatshirt off the counter like he knew to be prepared. it's folded and smells like him, woody and earthy, and when he hands it to steve, he gives him a little kiss to help warm him up before wrapping him into a hug.

"i swear, you come over here looking like a popsicle just so you can steal my clothes. i know your secrets, harrington."

steve leans back in eddie's grasp to pull the sweatshirt on quickly, smooths over his hair where he knows it must have puffed up, and brings his sweater-covered hands up to his mouth to blow hot air into the fabric to warm up his nose. he melts at the eddie smell that radiates off the sweatshirt and curls his hands around eddie's neck to drag him in for another kiss.

steve might hate the cold weather, but being wrapped up in everything eddie was an unexpected plus that makes the chill worth it.

#this is brought to you by me having to wear my winter coat and scrape ice off my windshield this morning!#steddie #steddie headcanon #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie fluff

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dilf-din · 10 months

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Emergency Contact

Poe Dameron x f!reader (college friends/modern au)

WC: 2700

Warnings: language, harassment mention (not Poe), alcohol mention, all the pining and fluff, only one bed 👀, reader has a nickname

A/N: inspired by the Pierce the Veil song of the same name. I’ve got Poe on the brain, fellas. Golden retriever guy that we all know and love. Let me know if you want a part two?? He’s so fun to write for. Enjoy, my buttered noodles 🫶🏼

PART 2

Your feet dragged through the door to your apartment like they did every Friday at 5:42. You kicked your boots off as the heavy door swung shut behind you, tossing your keys onto the counter, a skittering sound of metal against smooth stone filled your ears. The stagnant air of your apartment was a stark contrast to the biting wind you had navigated on your way off the train. Heat pricked at the back of your neck instantly, prompting you to shrug off your jacket and scarf and hang them on the rack by the door.

August, your orange tabby, jumped onto the counter nimbly, batting at your keys.

“Hey, bud,” you smiled wearily, leaning your forehead down for him to butt against.

You liked your job, but Fridays were your busiest day by far, leaving you too tired to go out with your friends for after work drinks or bar hopping. You usually settled for a documentary and some pizza, pulling up your favorite place on speed dial to put in an order for dinner. While you waited the 25 minutes you knew it would take, you got everything ready so that you could crawl in bed by 9:30, the same routine every weekend.

You stripped your work clothes into your nearly full hamper, knowing you’d have to make a trip to the bottom floor to wash it all tomorrow. You wiped your face clean of any makeup and pulled on your trusty sweatpants that you had stolen from a college fling. Just as you finished scrubbing out your coffee thermos and Tupperware from lunch and setting them up to dry, you heard the familiar buzzing indicating that your pizza was on its way up. Pulling your purse off of the back of one of your barstools, you fished two twenties out of your wallet, noting the frayed edges and thinking it was time to replace it.

You swapped the cash for the pizza, wishing the high school aged kid a good night to which he huffed in reply. With your veggie pizza next to a half empty bottle of wine and a glass, you settled on the couch and switched on your tv. The penguin documentary that made you cry was already pulled up on your home screen, so you selected it and snuggled back into your throw pillow pile. August sat perched on the top of the middle cushion, an indent from his weight already there to welcome his soft body.

The hours ticked by quickly and slowly all at once. As the clock crept closer to 9:00, you found yourself mindlessly scrolling through a dating app, turning up your lip at the unappealing offerings it brought while the local news droned on in the background. The weather girl warned of a some late night snow headed to blanket the city. You paid no mind, knowing you’d be in bed soon enough. It was at that point in the year that you needed to pull your extra quilt down to nestle under at night.

With a sigh, you folded your throw blanket and tossed it over the arm of the couch. You drained the last sip of your wine and gathered your dishes to wait in the sink to join tomorrow’s load. The pizza box fit easily in your near empty fridge. “Lunch for tomorrow,” you thought as your bare feet padded down the chilly wood floor to your room, stopping to crank your heat up by a few degrees.

After moisturizing your face and brushing your teeth, you climbed into bed, ready for another restful night’s sleep, but secretly longing for a break in your routine. You had no idea that interruption would come in the middle of the night.

12:37 A.M.

Your phone buzzing on your night stand pulled you from your sleep. You fumbled for it in the dark, pulling it to your ear without checking the number first.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Ace, it’s me,” an embarrassed voice came from the other end of the line.

“Poe? Is something wrong?”

You haven’t heard from Poe in months, one on one, that is. You two still ran in the same circle with some friends from college, but the two of you were by no means best friends any more. Still, you knew the exact expression on his face and the way his hand was behind his head ruffling through his hair the way it always did when he messed up. The years you spent in each other’s dorms quizzing each other and drinking cheap beer didn’t fade with time. Neither did the parade of girls he always had on his arm, so many you stopped asking for their names. He always said you were different, too good for any of the guys on campus. He didn’t know how much you relished his presence and the smell of his cologne on his collar. Everything started flooding back at once. His laugh cutting across a crowded room, the winks he would send you in a conversation to let you know he heard you, he was still with you even when your quiet comments got swept away.

The sound of his voice brought you back to the present even though you had one foot caught in the past.

“I need some help, Ace,” he hesitated, “I’m in jail. Can you come pick me up?”

“Jesus, Poe. Yeah. Yeah of course, I’ll be right there.”

“You’re too good to me, thank you,” relief flooded his voice.

You kicked off your covers, not even bothering to change into jeans. A quick look out your window revealed that snow had already begun to line the sidewalks below. You pulled your boots and scarf back on over your sweatshirt and pants, stuffing your keys and wallet into your pocket. The elevator was thankfully on your floor. The doors opened quickly to carry you to the bottom floor. You buttoned your coat and drew your scarf over your mouth before stepping out into the New York winter. Flurries and wind stung your eyes as you made your way down the steps to the subway that sat just outside your building.

The ride went quickly. There weren’t many other riders this time of night with this weather. The hum of the car gliding down the rails made a pleasant background noise. There were no hushed conversations or blaring music like during the day.

You arrived at the station, checking the time on your phone to see it was 1:13.

You approached the counter and smiled at the bored looking woman on the other side of the glass. She talked you through the process of picking up your friend, and within three minutes, he was making his way to you escorted by two officers.

He flashed you a toothy grin, his left eye swollen and bruised. One of the officers undid his cuffs and pushed him towards you.

“Thank you gentlemen,” he nodded, earning an eye roll from the pair of men who retreated back out the hallway.

“You don’t have a coat?” you frowned.

“Didn’t have time to grab it,” he shrugged.

You unwound your scarf and draped it over his neck. He smiled once more, softer this time.

“It’s good to see you, Ace.”

He followed you down the stoop into the cold November air. There were about two inches of snow on the ground by this point, nothing compared to the inevitable feet that would pile up in the coming weeks.

“So what happened?” you broke the silence, turning your head to meet his dark eyes.

“I know it looks bad, but it’s not that bad. I was out with some friends and a buddy of mine was way too drunk. Started getting handsy with this chick so I decked him. It turned into a whole thing. We all got kicked out. Me and him got taken in.”’

“Thank you,” you replied.

“What?”

“Thank you. For standing up for a girl. Not enough guys do something when they see shit like that going down.”

The look on his face told you that was unfathomable to him.

“Do you need a place to stay?”

“If you don’t mind. I’m not going back there until tension blows over,” his teeth started to chatter so you picked up the pace. Grabbing his hand, you pulled him towards the station with you.

“C’mon, Dameron, let’s get our hero warmed up.”

The two of you sat nestled on a bench together, personal space be damned, just like when you were teenagers. It wasn’t until you were in the dimmed fluorescent light of the train that you noticed his split knuckles. Deep purples bruises bleeding into raw spots on his right hand. Your fingers traced over the marks with a featherlight touch and he swallowed hard, leaning his head back against the icy window.

“Shit, did that hurt?”

“No, no, you’re good,” he cocked his head to the side to give you a genuine smile. “So how’ve you been? I’m sorry I keep meaning to check in.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Work’s been kicking my ass. I don’t do much besides work, sleep, and eat,” you admitted with a shrug.

“That’s no life,” he scoffed.

“It’s my life,” you responded, “I’m not like you, Poe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Fun doesn’t befall me at every turn, I don’t have a dazzling personality and tons of friends like you. I do my best to keep my head above water in every social situation. I’m always talked over or ignored. So it’s easier like this, just to bury myself in my work and fade into the background.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said that’s bullshit, Ace. That person you described doesn’t sound anything like you. You’re kind and smart and a crazy good karaoke partner,” this drew a laugh from you before he continued.

“You make people better, myself included. So don’t feed me those lines about you not being good enough to have a good life. You don’t want to look back at this time and have everything be a blur. You’ve gotta take risks, stay up late, do something spontaneous.”

“Like pick you up from jail?” you teased.

He sighed and put a hand to his face.

“You always see the best in people,” you murmured at the ground.

“No, I see what people show. You are the best of us, don’t get so down on yourself,” he squeezed your knee twice.

The walls started coming into focus as the train slowed to a stop at the platform under your street. Poe followed you up the steps and into the lobby of your building, thankful to be out of the wind.

“So what awaits me on the other side? You got a boyfriend up there who will be mad to see me?”

You laughed, “No boyfriend, just me.”

“No cute coworker with his eye on you?”

“No?”

“I’m just trying to make sure I won’t have to swing on anyone else tonight,” he smiled cockily, carrying himself with that signature swagger that he always made look effortless.

You stifled a laugh as he followed you off the elevator and to your door. August mewled loudly at your return, curious eyes following Poe’s movements. You pulled your boots off by the door once more, and he followed suit leaving his snow caked shoes next to yours.

“Coffee?” you asked from the other side of the kitchen island, already pulling a fresh filter from the cabinet.

“Yes please,” he called back. He was holding his hand out for August to sniff. “Who’s this handsome guy?”

“Are you looking in the mirror again?” you teased. “Oh, that’s August. We found each other at the beginning of the year.”

“I haven’t been to your place yet, it’s nice,” he remarked looking around.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. If you want to give your guys a few days.”

“I might take you up on that,” he said sheepishly, taking a seat on your couch.

“Here,” you tossed him a bag of frozen peas and he held them against his eye. You crossed the room to sit next to him while the coffee maker bubbled in the background.

“Are you wearing Tommy P’s sweatpants still?” Poe asked with a grin, taking in your outfit for the first time.

“They’re comfy! Nothing else! Besides, he’s married now. Do you think I should call and see if they want them back?”

Poe threw his head back and laughed.

“See, that’s the Ace I know,” he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“That looks bad,” you knelt forward to take a closer look at his eye, clutching his jaw lightly.

“I’ve had worse,” he murmured. His breath was hot on your cheek, and you realized just how close you were sitting. You pulled back hurriedly, straightening your coasters to keep your hands busy.

“Do you need anything for pain? Advil?”

“Nah, I’ll be alright. That coffee’ll warm me up enough to pass out.”

On cue, the pot beeped a little melody to let you know it was full. You grabbed two mugs and filled them.

“Black?” you called over your shoulder.

“Splash of cream?” he smiled, reciting back your preference.

“Some things never change,” you smiled, carefully handing him the dark blue mug and taking a sip from yours.

The two of you fell into conversation easily, as if no time had passed. You blinked and you were twenty again, tucked into his bottom bunk and laughing until tears fell while he did a dramatic retelling of his encounter with a history professor. You were nineteen and crying on his couch because your date stood you up and how could you be so stupid. His broad shoulders were always the perfect landing pad for your heavy head. You were eighteen and he was clinging to you like a life support on the anniversary of his mother’s death. And now you were twenty five, sharing your couch and a cup of coffee, talking about all the life that had happened since your last long talk. Neither of you could even place when it was. One day, things just got in the way.

He noticed the heavy pull of your eyelids and cut himself off.

“I’m talking your ear off, Ace. Let’s get some sleep. Don’t worry about pulling the couch out, I’ll be fine like this,” he reassured, reaching for the blanket that was draped over the arm still.

“Don’t be silly, just come sleep with me,” you said groggily.

He hesitated.

“It wouldn’t be the first time we shared a bed,” you shrugged.

He switched off the lamp and followed you down the hall.

“I’ve got an extra toothbrush in the drawer, you can have it,” you said. You pulled a fresh pair of sweats and a tee shirt out of your bottom drawer and handed them to him. “Take your time,” you smiled.

“Thanks,” he said softly, excusing himself to the bathroom to the left of your bed.

You crawled under the covers and were out in a second. It was well after four at this point. Some time later, a few minutes you guessed, you heard Poe cross the room and pull the covers up on the other side.

“Do you need a phone charger?” you mumbled.

“Nah, my phone shattered at the bar. I’m gonna have to get a new one tomorrow,” he explained, fluffing your extra pillow and tucking his arm under it.

“Okay,” your eyes closed again.

You were both quiet as sleep blanketed you like the snow on the ground outside.

“Poe?”

“Yeah, Ace?”

“If your phone is broken, how did you find my number?”

“It’s the only one I know by heart,” he said simply.

“Oh.”

“I’ve known it since freshman year.”

You smiled into the dark.

“I’m glad you called me and not someone else.”

“There’s no one else but you, Ace,” he said, voice barely a whisper.

#poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fluff

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winchester-girl67 · 4 months

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Wild Hearts (Part 5) - Six Years After Dean Left

Summary: It's been nearly six years since Dean and the reader became friends. Now that they finally have a chance to reunite he's desperately hoping for a chance at the love they denied themselves in the past.

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader

Square: “All I wanted was a happy ending.”

Word Count: 3,137

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21-22, Dean is 26-27), time jump, mentions of physical abuse by a parent/violence/death, pining, a hint of jealousy, protective!Dean, kissing/cuddling, fluffy fluff fluff

A/N: These two are adorably irresistible together. Ultimately decided to post the rest of this series in the order I wrote it because I feel it reads better.

_____

Six years after Dean left.

The town you once thought would never feel like home had grown on you since Dean. That’s how you thought of him, as if Dean was a fixture in time, in your past; a turning point. And he was. So you hadn’t stayed in hopes of his return, it had been six years after all since he left. You stayed because it was home.

Your brother eventually moved to the city, with that blonde you thought it would never work out with, and now you saw him on weekends when they dropped by for dinner and a day at the beach. They didn't have any plans for getting married or having kids though, and that was fine, they were just young and in love, or lust depending on who you asked.

You still lived at home for the time being to save money while you commuted to finish off your final year of college. You liked life by the beach. It was simple and though it could get crowded with tourists in the summer months, you wouldn't trade it for the bustling city life.

Summers were spent working with Cas at his local art gallery. He needed help during the busy season and he lacked the people skills he needed to sell his creations. His family had helped him acquire the place since they were well off and you were pleasantly surprised at his handiwork. He turned out the most beautiful carvings and sculptures from driftwood and found objects he'd picked up from the beach.

You didn't regret taking a gap year to figure out what you wanted to study and you settled on a degree in Business. In your spare time, you volunteered at the youth group in town that you and Benny organized together. He had been all in when you proposed the idea to him and you both wanted to create a safe place for kids -both like and unlike Sam and Dean- to go to for support. Even if that just meant playing board games, making crafts, or taking them sand surfing for an afternoon so they'd have a place to go where they wouldn't get into trouble.

Dean was pretty proud of you when you told him about it and promised to visit back in February. But he never made it out and you lost contact for a bit after that. You guessed life got in the way, but it made you a little sad.

You still loved getting his postcards though and had been on the tips of your toes ever since the latest one arrived a couple months ago. He'd written that he was 'coming home' and 'soon' but he didn't say when. So when your mom handed you a postcard that afternoon, you nearly leapt out of your skin.

There was no stamp so you figured he had hand delivered it and he'd written, '...meet me under our streetlamp...' your heart beat so fast it felt as though it would fly away if it wasn't held in by your ribcage.

You had bought a new dress in the hopes of seeing him after his last postcard and rushed into your room to throw it on. Every time he'd seen you was in jeans and boxy t-shirts and even though you knew he didn't care, you wanted to look nice.

Sure it was a little chilly outside, but the length of the dress reached your ankles and you wore leggings underneath, a light jean jacket overtop and sneakers, because heels take balance. Which you didn't have. Then with a glance in the mirror, you dashed out the door towards your truck, still the same ridiculous burnt orange colour as the day you got it.

You pulled into the empty parking lot of the pier, instantly spotting the mint-condition, shiny black Impala. You parked beside Baby, but Dean wasn’t in the driver’s seat and the engine was cold when you hopped out of your truck and felt the hood with your palm. You peered inside, not a single takeout bag or ketchup packet in sight. Not that he didn't eat that type of food but he kept her tidy like she deserved.

Backing away from Baby you noted her brand new-old headlight and the lack of dents in the front bumper. Dean must've finally found those parts he was checking every salvage yard for.

You turned on your heel and glanced down the lot, spying Donna’s ice cream shop; it was around the same time of year you met Dean which meant the shops would be closing soon for the winter. You smiled and looked across to the bench that sat under the streetlamp. Your spot from that night six years ago.

A man sat on the bench staring out at the horizon as a sailboat headed towards the harbour in the distance. He turned his gaze as though he felt your eyes on him and squinted, then stood up.

You thought you'd recognize Dean anywhere, but you couldn't remember the last time you video chatted and when you had, the connection was too fuzzy to see anything other than frozen pixels. You stepped slowly towards the man, giving him a squint of your own eyes and tilting your head. Mirroring him when he smiled.

"Y/N?" He called over the distance and you'd recognize that deep voice anywhere. Dean.

You ran towards him with a beaming smile and jumped into his arms, knocking him back a step. His hands clutched your waist and he lifted you and spun you around as he laughed.

"I almost didn't recognize you. Are you wearing a dress?" Dean chuckled and set you on your feet.

Your cheeks burned, "Well, I remember you were a big fan of the skirt." You teased him about the time he saw you in your school uniform and his cheeks burned just as red. "What's this?" You brushed his jawline with your fingertips, feeling the stubble against your skin.

Dean's neck flushed under your touch, "Uh, yeah. I probably should've shaved again before I came here but I didn't want to take a chance at missing you."

"I dunno, I think it kinda suits you," you shrugged, unable to keep your smirk to yourself. "Your beard was practically nonexistent when we met."

"I don't think you wanna talk about things that were practically nonexistent when we met." His eyes dropped to your chest for half a second.

You gasped and shoved him in the shoulder and he burst out laughing. You couldn't help but notice the natural tone in his muscles and how much broader he'd gotten.

"You grew up." You squeezed Dean's shoulders, barely able to get your hands around them now.

"I should be saying that about you." He sucked his lip as he looked you over. "Seriously, though. Did you get taller?"

"Yeah, sure. Let's call it taller," but you knew what he really meant. You grew into your body and you owned it now even if you still dressed like you were a sixteen-year-old tomboy most days, but you weren't afraid to throw on a dress every now and again for special occasions, like today.

It was a bit of a gloomy day but there was enough warmth in the way he looked at you that you didn't care.

You grabbed his hand and tugged him to sit on the bench with you. "I missed you."

"We text almost everyday, Y/N." He smiled. "And talk as much as possible."

"Not for a while now. You kind of ghosted me after Valentine's day." You said, still holding his hand and playing with his fingers between yours. "I should be more mad at you, but I missed you too much, I couldn't not come meet you if I tried."

"It wasn't fair to you," he squeezed your fingers in his, "I’m sorry, Y/N. If it’s any consolation, I missed you every minute.” He bit his bottom lip like he did often. "But we both know we couldn’t be together back then-”

“All I wanted was a happy ending for you, Dean." You cut him off and waved your hand. "And Sam, and you guys have that now, in California. I'm so happy for you."

"Yeah," he breathed and brushed his hair back, not that he needed to, it was much shorter now. "About that. I'm not going back." You dropped your jaw and pushed your brows together. "With my father gone, there's really no reason to stay away anymore," he grabbed your hand and clutched it to his chest, "And every reason in the world to stay right here."

"But won't you miss Sam?"

"Of course, but he has Jess now and he doesn't need me anymore. I think for once in my life, I'm going to do something completely selfish and, despite some painful memories, I've always loved this town. It's where my mother grew up and had my brother and me. She taught me to ride my bike on this pier, I have the scar on my knee to prove it and I taught Sammy four years later. My friends are here, you're here. I don't think I need much more of a reason than that."

You stared at him and opened your mouth, then closed it, speechless, and he smiled.

"Y/N, when I picture myself happy, it's with you. In this town, with this ocean and that ice cream," he pointed to Donna's across from where you sat on the bench. "I wanna settle down, have a family with you; raise our kids in a house that's a home and have a happy little existence with my dream girl by my side."

"I'm your dream girl?" You blinked up at him.

"You've been starring in my dreams for longer than I care to admit. And now here we are. Same spot as the first night we met. Sam is safe and I don't have to deal with my prick of a father anymore. You're almost twenty-two, I'm twenty-six and the five years between us is just that."

"Um, Dean..." you bit the inside of your cheek and he deflated.

"You're with someone, aren't you?" He asked and you nodded twice, trying to hide a smirk. "That makes sense. You're beautiful and smart and strong and I never had a chance. The timing is always gonna be wrong for us and I shouldn't have expected-" He sighed and rubbed his knuckles like they were split, but this time they weren't. "He better treat you right."

"I love you."

"Huh?" His green eyes flicked up to meet yours and you let the smirk take over.

"I love you." You repeated.

"I don't think your boyfriend would appreciate that, Y/N." He shook his head, his breath heavy.

"Oh, I don't think he'll mind." You leaned into him and let your lips connect in a quick kiss. Dean was so stunned he didn't move and you whispered, "In case you didn't catch on, I'm talking about you."

He bit his lip and laughed silently. "I think you made that painfully obvious, sweetheart. But, way to give a guy a heart attack."

You didn't set out to wait for Dean, but you weren't about to settle for any less either. And keeping in touch over the years kept those feelings alive; like feeding fuel to a flame and you could feel the fire in your belly.

You kissed him again, "You made me wait."

"It wasn't easy for me either," he cupped your cheek and brushed your skin with the pad of his thumb. "And I love you, too, Y/N, more than you’ll ever know.”

He wet his lips and pressed them to yours. The heat from his mouth warming your skin and his hand tangling in your hair. It wasn't your first kiss with Dean but somehow, it felt like it was. It was the beginning of something real, with nothing to hold you back and keep you away from each other.

A butterfly sprung to life from the fires in your stomach and you drew back, "So, what now?"

"What do you mean?" He brushed your hair behind your ear.

"What happens now? Do you move into your father's old house?" You asked.

It had been sitting empty since him and Sam left and now that John was dead, everything was in their names. It wasn't something that Dean ever wanted to talk about but you'd found out that John finally picked a fight with someone big enough to fight back.

"I'll burn it to the ground before I move back there." He almost laughed though he was completely serious. You couldn't imagine the painful memories that place held for him; they overpowered anything nice their mother had been a part of creating there. You couldn't blame him for not wanting to go back. "Cas and Benny said I could stay with them, they have a spare room and it'll give me time to sell off the house and find a place of my own. And maybe if I'm lucky, by then I won't have to move in alone?" He cocked an eyebrow at you that held a thousand questions.

"That depends," you sighed and glanced away from him, then back.

"On?" He smiled, knowing you were teasing him again.

"Whether you snore when you sleep, duh." You rolled your eyes playfully.

"I'll buy you earplugs." He kissed your cheek, then your lips.

_____

Four months after Dean came back.

It was cold outside, freezing actually and snowing heavily. If this wasn’t the last of the boxes, you and Dean would’ve waited to bring in the rest. You plopped down onto the floor in the living room amongst the many other stacked boxes. You’d accumulated more than you thought over the past few years, but you didn’t think it was that much until now. Dean set his box on top of the others and ignored it when they started to lean, opting to lie next to you on the floor and risk getting crushed by cardboard and clothing instead.

He rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand. He gazed at you and reached out to brush the snow from your eyelashes.

You closed your eyes.

It was a cute little two story house that Dean had found with a wraparound porch, no walkway, and a big backyard. The house itself needed a lot of work, Dean saw nothing but potential and thought it was a steal. You had to agree and you weren't opposed to rolling your sleeves up and putting a little elbow grease into the place you would eventually call home.

When he first told you that your dad had helped him get a job in mechanics at Sandover Bridge and Iron, you were surprised to say the least. You always said you would never date a man whose job took precedence when it didn’t need to and you worried Dean would overwork himself to prove his worth to your father. But your father had figured out his work-life balance since you were a teenager and if he could do it then so could Dean; so you made an exception as if it was ever an option to walk away. Besides Dean always made it home for dinner and honestly without him, your new home together would just be a house.

What you had with him only came around once in a lifetime, you knew because you never felt the same about anyone else. Not even close.

You opened your eyes.

Dean looked at you like he could see your whole future together. Like nothing could tear you apart. And nothing would because you would never give up on each other.

"What are you thinking?" You asked even though you were pretty sure you already knew.

"That it's midnight and we'll very likely be snowed in by morning," he leaned over you and you felt his weight as he kissed you. "And we don't have a shovel."

"Benny could come dig us out," you breathed and he pressed his forehead to yours. "He owes you for fixing up his Jeep anyways."

"Mm," his lips brushed over yours, "I can't believe he still has that thing. Too bad we don't have a way of calling him, though."

"What are you talking about? I have my phone right here," you pulled your cell from your pocket but Dean took it and tossed it out of reach.

"Oops, guess we'll just have to stay stranded." He smirked and you laughed as he pecked kisses to your cheeks, squirming when his lips reached your neck, "Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart."

You opened your mouth to speak but he silenced you with a kiss until you were breathless, then he started working over your neck with his tongue. You giggled and laughed until you twisted out from under him with a red spot on your pulse point.

This moment was perfect with him, but incomplete. There was only one thing missing to make it feel like home.

"Which box is the hammer in?"

"I think that one," he pointed to the box near the doorway, "Why?"

You pushed on his chest when he tried to kiss you again and he rolled off you, watching you curiously. You jumped up and dug around in the box until you found it and a nail, then grabbed the framed photograph you'd set aside in a box of breakables. He sat up and smiled when he recognized the frame.

It was the gift he'd given you before he left six years ago. The selfie of the two of you during your day of sand surfing. It was the first thing you'd hung on your wall back home and you wanted it to be the first thing you hung up in this house, too. Your home with Dean.

Over the years, you went from loving that photograph to hating it and back to loving it. You knew it was contingent on the way you were feeling about Dean at those times, but you never took it down. Until he asked you to move in with him, then it was the first thing you packed.

You curled your finger at him and he followed you into the master bedroom. You hung the photograph on the wall and dropped the hammer when Dean wrapped his arms around you from behind, swaying you back and forth; he smiled as brightly as he did the moment the photo was captured.

Dean looked at the photograph with you and dropped his chin to your shoulder.

"Love you," he kissed your cheek. "You make me stupidly happy, do you know that?" He kissed your neck, making you giggle.

"You make me stupidly happy, too."

_________________________

Part 6

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33 @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers @vicmc624 @ladysparkles78

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #au!dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #spn fanfic series #dean x #dean winchester x #au!dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural dean #dean winchester series #spn series #dean series #spn reader insert #wild hearts series

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joelswritingmistress · 5 months

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You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 5

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

Dr. Miller stood on the sidewalk in front of The Library and I felt like it was some kind of death march. With each step I tried to come up with some lame excuse as to why I had followed him from the school; why I had ended up on the same street as him. Nothing that was plausible came to mind.

I had a feeling he was one of those human lie detector types. Already I felt those dark, brown eyes studying me from afar. Up close, however, they appeared much softer.

“Care for a study session at The Library? You know.. since classes are cancelled this week.” He tipped his mouth up in a half smirk, “I mean, I'm assuming you had a question for me since you followed me all this way.”

I both admired and was intimidated by his bona fide candor. The man appeared completely see-through; honest. He wasn't about to spare me his sentiment on my Tuesday night blunder that left us both standing on the chilly street corner.

“I'm sorry. I..” I didn't have a proper response. Maybe I should have just been honest - to a degree. I had wanted to solve the mystery of the black Mercedes, though that hadn't been the root cause of my trip to Woodbridge on that cold, winter evening. Still, was it right to call him out for following me Thursday night?

You don't know that he was even following you, I reminded myself. Earlier I had convinced myself of the more rational idea that it was a coincidence.

Dr. Miller was entertained. That was another transparent element to his persona. Whether he knew it or not his expressions revealed a plethora of emotion. In this case, he was having fun with the way he had me on edge. It was my own fault. He could have been mad; weirded out. Maybe he was. Or maybe he was simply amused or even flattered.

He opened the door and motioned for me to enter ahead of him into the little bar. Immediately the ethereal scent of luxury washed over me. I was hard-pressed to define exactly what that meant, though it was eminently recognizable and potent - like leather, cigar smoke and a collection of unknowns I couldn't quite pinpoint.

“This way.” Dr. Miller nodded, only passing me when my body froze in place as I took in the surroundings. Leather couches. High top tables. Dim lights. Quiet conversations among small groups, all sipping on different bourbons, scotches or other drinks. An old Dean Martin song played as background music and a line of men dressed in fine suits sat at the bar.

I looked down at my navy blue sweater that was topped over jeans and removed my hat, attempting to straighten my hair out, or style it blindly in some way. When we sat at a small table in the back corner of the place, I stared across at him as he removed his jacket and sat down.

“I'm underdressed.” It was the least of my concerns.

Dr. Miller huffed a fleeting, quiet laugh and abruptly removed the tie he had on over a white, button down shirt, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket. He then proceeded to undo the top two buttons and fluffed the collar.

“Feel better?” He asked.

My bottom lip detached from my top one when his selfless act revealed a trim patch of chest hair that gave even Tim McGraw a run for his money. This man was far too suave and experienced not to know what he did to women.

“Yeah.” I was at a loss for words and I had no idea what his angle was. Not to mention I was still utterly embarrassed by the circumstances that led us to the back corner of the fancy lounge that night.

When a waitress wandered over it gave me a moment to process things - though not for long.

“What are we drinking tonight?” She asked, prompting Dr. Miller to motion to me first.

“Oh, umm..” I cleared my throat. Despite the fact that we were in a bar I hadn't thought of a drink to order. “A Manhattan on the rocks, please.”

“I'll do the same,” he said with a nod.

“Easy enough.” The woman disappeared and he folded his hands on top of the dark, wooden table as he stared across at me.

“How old are you?” The question was simple but it still took me off-guard enough to allow for a few seconds of hesitation.

“Twenty-seven.”

The next question wasn't so generic. “Are you afraid of me?”

My eyebrows raised. I had given up all control of my facial expressions. “What?” I breathed the word aloud.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“No.” I shook my head.

“Well, what is it then?”

That one was more vague. I had an idea of what he meant, though it was more of an assumption. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Yes you do,” he challenged. Just as hotness swelled through my cheeks he motioned to me with his first two fingers. “That.. right there. I've seen your grades, undergraduate and graduate studies. You're an intelligent woman, mostly A’s. I've looked at your social media accounts - you seem to have a relatively active social life. So, why is it that you can barely look me in the eye or even speak to me?”

Wow. He had a set of balls.

“I don't know.” I was trying to process what felt like a hundred different things at once. How did he know about my grades? Why had he looked into my social media?

“Yeah ya do,” the man repeated.

“Two Manhattans.” The waitress returned and placed our beverages down but this time Dr. Miller didn't look away as he thanked her. The moment she was more than an ear shot away he pried into my psyche even more. “Tell me why you followed me down here tonight.”

I couldn't lie to him. Not when his voice demanded the truth and his eyes pervaded my soul. I went with the most impervious truth in my laundry list of reasons as to why I had followed him.

“Thursday night,” I paused for a moment and then just blurted out what was just the tip of the virtuous iceberg. “I thought I was being followed by a black Mercedes when I left the school, so I wanted to find out-”

“You were right,” Dr. Miller casually cut me off and sipped his drink for the first time. I watched as he set it back down leaving watery fingerprints behind thanks to the perspiration on the glass.

“Excuse me?” I gave a laugh and held his gaze now.

“I followed you.”

Frightened or flattered? Frightened or flattered? What was wrong with me that I couldn't decipher how the revelation made me feel? Shouldn't I be frightened?

“You did what I hoped you would do,” he added. “Especially after the tragedy that occurred on campus.”

I was confused now. What had he hoped I would do? When I didn't ask he proceeded to elaborate on his own.

“You sensed someone was behind you and you didn't turn down the street where you live.”

“How do you know where I live?” That one I blurted out.

Yes, I was freaked out now. Still not as frightened as I should have been, but freaked out nonetheless. The drumming in my chest grew more prominent as the milliseconds passed. Yet, my eagerness to be there across the table from him still came out victorious.

“I looked you up on the campus portal.”

“Why?” I didn't know if I wanted to ask him ‘why’ or ‘how’; but ‘why’ came out first and I simply waited.

Dr. Miller noticed my shaking hand as I picked up the Manhattan. His eyes dropped and rose in less than a second, as to not acknowledge it, though it was plain as day that he observed my involuntary action.

“I'll answer that question if you answer the one I asked you. Why do you get so nervous around me?”

“You know where I live, you know all my grades and you found my social media accounts,” I said, exasperated, “And you want an answer as to why I get so nervous around you?”

“Yes.”

What the hell was wrong with him? There was definitely something wrong with him. There was something wrong with me for not getting up and leaving.

“You want the truth?” Dr. Miller went on. “I was attracted to you the second you spoke to me in that differential, submissive way that just radiates off you, I'm assuming, whenever you're in the presence of a man you perceive as dominant or powerful.”

I took another sip of my drink. My hand was beyond shaking now. It was trembling. Dr. Miller placed his hand over mine on the glass as I went to set it down so it wouldn't spill. I didn't attempt to pull away.

The warmth of his hand sent my hormones into overdrive. I discovered right then that the Molotov cocktail of lust and fear was blocking out any form of logic. I would have been a great mind for a psychology student to study being so equally frightened and aroused at the same time.

“I think you get nervous around me because you know what I could do to you.”

What did he mean by that? I swallowed hard. I couldn't giggle my way out of this the way I often did if I was nervous. My body was in a state of shock and my mind was locked down.

“Is that why you know all that stuff about me?” I needed to know. “Because you're..” I cleared my throat, not fully able to believe what he had just said. “..attracted to me.”

Even after his formal announcement on the matter I still wasn't convinced. There was that stereotypical submissive behavior he was speaking of.

“That's part of the reason,” Dr. Miller confessed, “But I also wanted to..” he pondered for a moment, the first flounder in our conversation. “I wanted to make sure you were.. okay.”

“What are you talking about?” I shook my head

“I looked up your grades and your Instagram account, which you should put on private by the way, because I wanted to know a little more about you. But I looked up your address when I learned about the murder on campus.”

My eyes squinted when he made a casual suggestion about my Instagram account. What was it to him? Why did he care whether my account was set to public or private? He wasn't my dad or my boss or my.. anything else.

“There are some seriously fucked up people out there.” He almost smirked when he said that despite all the tension but his small smile quickly faded. “And all I could think of when I found out about the girl on campus was that it could have been you.”

“You don't even know me.”

“And you don't know me, yet here we are. Two people who took turns following each other home.” He raised his glass to his lips and the amusement was back in those teddy bear eyes of his as they continued to study me.

I glanced down now at my hand that was still shaking and he reached for it again.

“Don't be afraid of me.” It was a plea and a demand rolled into one.

“I probably should be.” I closed my eyes and spoke the words because I was still too chicken shit to look him in the eye as I made my confession. “But you're right.. I get so nervous around you because..”

I fantasize about you pinning me against the wall and kissing me and...

I still couldn't get the words out. When my eyes fluttered open, Dr. Miller let me off the hook.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I could tell right away.”

“Am I that transparent?”

“To me you are.” His hand released mine and there was a wave of disappointment. “And then tonight-”

“You knew I was following you.” It was half-question, half-statement.

“I saw you in the parking lot.”

“Dr. Miller-”

“Joel,” he corrected.

“Joel.” That fit. Joel Miller. I was so smitten over this man that even his first name made me weak in the knees - after he had admitted to violating my privacy on so many levels that should have sent me running, or even reporting him to the university.

Apparently, he was confident enough to think that I wouldn't do that. And he was right. Even for knowing one another for such a short amount of time, it felt like we were on some unspoken level of understanding; some kind of eccentric, warped version of kindred spirits or something.

“Are we on the same page?” He asked now. For the first time there was just the faintest hint of concern in his voice. His hazel eyes shifted back and forth just enough to advertise his uncertainty.

“I think so.” I did think so; but I hardly knew what book we were in.

The series of events were borderline perverse. Dr. Miller had dug into my personal life when he decided I was a perfect match for his antithetical impulses. As a result he felt some kind of connection that led him to follow me home in order to make sure I was alright after the murder occurred on campus.

I hadn't been able to put a halt to my own impure thoughts about him since the moment he walked in the door of class on that first evening. Similarly, there was a dominance and a confidence in the man that was so appealing. It awakened parts of me that I hadn't even realized existed. I wanted him. In the most primal of ways I wanted him.

The fact that he had followed me on Thursday night, I decided, didn't bother me. I could tell that he wasn't bothered in the least by the fact that I had followed him.

And here I was naive enough to call myself the predator and him the prey. Dr. Miller had known all along that I was there. He just waited until the moment was right to let me know that he was, indeed, in control.

There was a silence that had drifted over us but I knew he was reading my body language; deciphering if his decision to be entirely straightforward with me was the right decision. It was - or so that was how I viewed it. The fantasy that had been the focal point of my inner monologue as of late had presented itself on the table right in front of me.

“How old are you?” I lifted my glass again, hoping this time the shake in my hand would subside. It didn't, though I took a quick sip anyway and set the glass back down.

“Forty-four,” he said right away and then added, “Maybe we should play a game of twenty questions.. get to know each other.” That little smirk highlighted his dimples and I knew I was in full swoon.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“My turn,” came his immediate reminder, “Do you like my class?”

I gave a laugh, thankful for the lighthearted question. This one was easy. “Yes. I was disappointed that classes were cancelled this week, actually.”

“So that must've been why you came down to the university.” Dr. Miller winked now without attempting to be subtle about it. “Your turn.”

“Are you married?” It was bold. My face was fifty shades of crimson; but I had to know.

After a brief swirl of the brown liquid in his glass, a smile crept on his face that reminded a bit of The Grinch combined with The Cheshire Cat. “No.”

“Have you ever been?”

“I believe it's my turn.” Dr. Miller smacked his lips after another longer sip from the Manhattan. He smiled wider now and looked me directly in my eyes. I was smiling back at him. “What's your biggest fear?”

My chest tightened just a bit at the question and I saw his fingertips clench the glass a little tighter as the sentence rolled off his tongue.

“Dying,” I answered honestly and knew it was a dark answer. He was probably expecting me to say spiders or the dark. “I'm afraid of.. being forgotten and missing out on whatever's out there for me in the future. And upsetting the people who love me.” I shrugged as if it wasn't genuinely deep thought. It was. Actually saying it aloud was intense.

Dr. Miller's smile had faded. He was staring at me with such a solemn expression that seemed to match what I was feeling inside.

I hardly wanted to change the mood and so I managed a little grin. “It's my turn, I think.” I piggybacked my former question with the one he threw back at me, “Were you ever married?”

“Yes.” He held his glass between his hands by his face like a poker player making a more thorough attempt to hide his cards. “I was about thirty. It lasted less than a year. I haven't been married since.” Dr. Miller's eyebrows rose and fell once, and I could tell he didn't care to elaborate.

I nodded, not knowing if I was crossing the line in our back-and-forth, sophomoric way to get to know each other. Again, I wasn't wholly sure but he didn't appear to mind as his turn rolled around again.

“When did your last relationship end?” He asked.

It had been a while if we were talking about formal relationships. “I've gone out on dates here and there but..” I thought for a moment, “A boyfriend.. it's been over two years.”

“Why didn't it work out?” Dr. Miller leaned forward just a bit with his elbows on the table now. I knew I could have pulled the, 'it's not your turn’ card but I answered the question honestly.

“I was bored.” It was the first time I acknowledged it aloud. “Yeah.. I.. I just got bored and rather than drag it on, I broke it off.”

“No one else has managed to cure that boredom spell huh?”

Not until now. I would have loved to have answered him in that way but I wasn't exactly about to show off my full hand of cards, either. I simply shook my head and saw the squint of his eyes as I assumed he was hoping for a more in-depth response.

I had something on the tip of my tongue that I wanted to ask. The alcohol aided in letting my guard down enough to get it out.

“What are you hiding?” I asked because I knew he was. It was more than a haunch. I could almost see the skeleton in his metaphorical closet.

Disarmed. That was the only word I could use to describe the uplift of his eyebrows, the side glance of his pupils toward the wall, the uncomfortable shift in his posture. It was the first time that night where he truly looked subdued.

There is something. I knew it.

“Hiding?” Dr. Miller tried the cool smile again but it didn't erupt on his face in that same smooth manner the way it had every single time before that. His jaw was a bit strained and he cleared his throat.

“Aren't we all hiding something?” I tried to make the question appear more playful and lighthearted.

“What are you hiding?”

“I asked you first.”

“Well, uh..” His smile was a combination of forced and genuine now. “We’ll revisit that question another time.”

“Fair enough.” Another time. Sounded good to me. I wanted there to be another time. No, I needed there to be another time.

“Are you attracted to me?” Dr. Miller asked, as if he didn't already know.

I didn't beat around the bush. We were here. The boundaries that I so naively assumed would separate us had been breached and he had already made such bold admissions. What did I have to lose by telling the truth?

“Yes.” I was leaning forward now, my hands folded in front of my glass on the table. That one elevated my heart rate and I knew I had forfeited any power when I continued to allow him to ask me questions in rapid succession.

“Did it bother you when I told you I followed you the other night?”

“No.”

“Does it excite you?” He asked.

My cheeks were scorching now. “Yes.”

“Are you going to feel weird when you see me in class from now on?”

“A little.”

Dr. Miller chuckled now and I laughed with him. Wow, how the mood had changed. I think it was possible that I had experienced every emotion there was to feel over the course of our time together. It was exhilarating.

When I saw him take the last swig of his drink I wondered what that meant. Was that a wrap for the evening? Would he order another? I hoped he would. I could have sat at that bar all night with him.

Dr. Miller lanced at my drink and I hurried to take a sip of it in case he wanted to leave.

“Don't,” he said right away, “Take your time.”

“Thanks.” I let out a sigh and he stared at me for so many consecutive seconds that I was starting to think I had something on my face.

“What do you do for a living?” He finally asked.

“For now, I'm a secretary at the board of ed in the next town.”

“So, I guess I'm not the only one getting up early tomorrow.”

“Quarter-to-six.”

“Mmm..” Dr. Miller glanced down and swirled the ice in his glass.

“Can I ask you one more question?” When he gave a little nod I asked, “Did you get in the elevator with me last week on purpose? I mean.. was it just to ride with me?”

His answer shocked me. Well, the detailed version of what I assumed, by now, would be a simple ‘yes' is what left me in a heated awe.

Dr. Miller's jaw tightened again and he spoke through partially gritted teeth. “When I saw you walking toward that elevator..” His eyes closed briefly and then opened again, finding my gaze immediately. “.. it took every ounce of restraint I had in me not to grab you by the throat, pin you up against the wall and shove my hand down the front of whatever pretty panties you happened to have on that night.”

And checkmate.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @michilandcof @morallyinept

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fryingpan1234567 · 1 year

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Ladies and gentlemen and everything in between, it is nine degrees Fahrenheit outside

as a result: how well different DC characters handle the cold (because we all know it gets freezing in Gotham, sometimes right in the middle of the summer. Metropolis, Star, and Central City aren’t much better.)

Damian Wayne: he’s been raised from a very young age to withstand conditions harsher than most adults- cold was included in that package. However, that doesn’t mean he likes it. He’s right there with his siblings when they get back from a particularly frigid patrol, stumbling to the nearest fireplaces and dialing every naturally warm-running Kryptonian they know for cuddles (of course Dami would only ever be cuddling with Jon, but sometimes it’s nice to be sandwiched between him and Kara as well)

(That in itself is a sight to behold- Cass and Steph snuggling up to their gf Kara who totally has work tomorrow, Jon forcing Dami into his lap with like six blankets so he doesn’t get sick, Tim is literally melted into Conner’s side and hasn’t woken up since he got here, Dick and a reluctant Jason are sharing a massive blanket with Kon, and Clark and Bruce take pictures before sneaking off to cuddle without the prying eyes of their kids while Alfred makes everyone hot cocoa)

There are several heroes including the Flash, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and ofc their respective people (speedsters, Kryptonians, Amazons, Atlantians) who don’t really… get cold. They tend to be used as heated blankets for other JL members and their kids lol

Wally West does not like the cold. Although he never has to worry about it actually damaging him because of his healing factor, it’s just unpleasant as a whole. So that means he comes home to Dick from patrol shivering, with a brand new cold, and pissed off. Dick will just hold him under multiple blankets in bed, watching Disney’s Frozen until they’re both asleep.

Jason Todd is used to it. He grew up on the streets and before that in poverty, so he’s no stranger to Gotham winter. He’ll often give his leather jacket and gloves to people he sees without, leaving him in just his suit and maybe he starts to get a bit chilly by then but it’s so worth it to know he made someone’s night a little more bearable. Plus he’s got a boyfriend and daughter to warm him up when he gets home.

Harley Quinn is an absolute psychopath and rarely wears a coat, even when it’s in the negatives. She’s out there in her pigtails (dyed green and red instead of blue and pink for the holidays!!) and skimpy skirts, not a sign of the winter in sight as far as her outfit goes (unless you count the hideous tree skirt she’s wrapped around her shoulders like a poncho). Something about her is just… immune. And it’s great, bc her gf Ivy definitely does not do quite as well as her in the cold and she’s happy to provide warmth whenever necessary.

Jon Kent is aware that it’s cold outside, but the funny thing is that it doesn’t bother him until he starts thinking about it. Like he’ll be on patrol with Dami or Conner, perfectly fine, and all of a sudden he’s aware of Damian’s chattering or Conner tugging his jacket closer at a gust of wind and then he’s so cold he wants to claw his own skin off. Luckily, whoever he’s with is willing to get him a hot cocoa at the nearest coffee shop, but still, he hates the cold. As a Kryptonian, it’s just unnatural.

Bruce Wayne has had hypothermia so many times in his Batman days that his temperature sensors are honestly dead. Obviously not great, but it means he can sit atop a gargoyle with 70mph frigid winds whipping past and hold whatever bird is tucked beneath his cape to hide from the weather without being affected whatsoever. There is a limit- Alfred has ordered that he come home when the frostbite kicks in, because he does need all his limbs to fight crime, but that’s the extent of his winter protection.

Tim Drake is the type of guy to forget it’s December and march out the house in a short sleeve, almost get blown off his feet by an aggressive breeze, declare “NOPE” and head right back inside. In the winter he does prefer mochas, but he adds so many extra shots of espresso you almost can’t even taste the chocolate anymore. Only Tim Drake could find Christmas horror movies, but he manages, and that’s how he spends 90% of his wintertime, Conner tucked into his side like a personal bf heater.

You know who really likes the cold? Diana Fucking Prince. She never got snow or even so much as a chilly breeze on the island- and you know what the snow does remind her of? That night. The one where she and Steve slow danced in the town square after saving the village, all the way back in WWII. It was the first time she’d ever experienced the cold, but it thankfully wasn’t the last (:

With that guys I gotta go to bed- I’m finally on winter break!! Have a good morning/ night/ 4am y’all 🥰

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writer-rosa · 1 year

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A random headcanon I thought of after beating the gyms again in sv

Grusha x Gn!Reader

Synopsis - you’re cold and Grusha does his best to warm you up

Warnings - None! Pure tooth rotting fluff, Grusha is kinda sassy tho

Song - Whale Call ~ Saib

You held your arms tightly around your body. Even with your fluffy jacket and scarf you still couldn’t help but shiver from the cold of the chilly mountaintops. You usually spend most of your time in the city where it mostly always felt like some sort of degree of summer. So this sudden new feeling of cold would take a lot to get used to.

And, before you could hide your soft sniffling, a curtain blue haired boy picked up on it.

“Are you getting too cold?”

He stopped and turned to you, crossing his arms and examining you. You merely chuckled.

“No, I’m fine, don’t worry. I can handle a little cold.”

“I wouldn’t call this a little cold, and to be honest, you really can’t, (y/n).”

You almost felt hurt by that statement, clutching you heart dramatically.

“Ahh, it hurts! How could you be so mean to me!”

Grusha scoffed at your sarcasm, lightly hitting you on the back of the head.

“Come on. Let’s go back to my house. It’s not too far from here.”

….

You let out a sign in relief and you finally shed off all your winter clothes, slipping into some comfy loungewear. Grusha did the same, walking off to the kitchen as you sat down on the couch.

“Even though it’s always so cold outside, I think it would be pretty cool to live here.”

“Yeah. You say that now until you have to deal with nights where the heating breaks during a snowstorm. Its awful, but you get used to it.”

Suddenly, you started to smell something strange. Almost…. Sweet?

“Wait… are you making….”

“Yeah…”

Your eyes twinkled as Grusha returned with two mugs of hot chocolate, sitting down next to you.

“I thought this would warm you up a little.”

“Awww, your so sweet!”

You gave him a bright smile before beginning to sip some of your warm drink. As you tried to think of the best way to eat all the marshmallows first, Grusha couldn’t help but smile softly back at you, but he looked away quickly as soon as he saw you look over at him.

…..

After you both finished your drinks and chatting for a while, you realized the sun had already set.

“Oh crap, I didn’t realize it was already so late. Uh, would it be okay with you if I spent the night?”

He chuckled, the light sound warming your heart.

“Of course, I… was kind of planning on it.”

Just as you both were about to get up, Grusha noticed the goose bumps that were still on your arms. You were still cold and you didn’t tell him? You gave him a puzzled look, but to your surprise, he cupped your cheek, feeling it to be chill to the touch.

“Just as I thought…”

You couldn’t help but blush a his thumb traced the side of your face lightly.

“You’re still so cold. Here, come with me.”

He took your hand in his and lead you to what seemed to be his room. It was decorated with all cool colors, a large bed with soft, wool blankets being it’s centerpiece. Your eyes managed to catch a glimpse of the countless Polaroid pictures hung to the wall, all of him during his glory days of snow bourding and with his Pokémon. He looked so happy in them.

He pushed the thick blankets out of the way and tucked you and him under, causing you to gasp. You felt you whole body break out into a blush as he pulled your body close to his. For someone who spends a lot of time in the snow, he was super warm. You couldn’t help but nuzzle against him, seeking out the warmth your body desperately craved.

“I hope this helps.”

You only hummed in response, to relaxed to find any words to say.

Grusha’s eyes looked away slightly, his own cheeks beginning to warm up as he placed a nervous hand on the back of your head. Your eyes widened. He always found ways to catch you off your guard, even outside of Pokémon battles. You felt yoruself slowly drift off to sleep, glad to be so close to someone you care so much about, someone who cares about you just as much as you care about them. (Maybe even more)

#pokémon #pokémon grusha #grusha #grusha x reader #pokémon scarlet and violet #scarlet and violet #idk what to even tag this as #love him tho <3 #such cozy vibes

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klausinamarink · 5 months

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his lips still blue

rating: T | cw: hypothermia, supposed character death | tags: established relationship, supernatural/horror vibes | wc: 948

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | Dec 2: Came Back Wrong

—

Three days.

Steve was missing for three days and everyone already thought about the worst case scenario. Eddie blamed Chief Hopper for quelshing their hopes for pointing out how the recent snowstorm delaying the search was covering Steve’s tracks. Even Robin had bit her lip in thought so hard that it bled.

But Eddie refused to think about it. He didn’t even dare to let any of those thoughts contaminate the hope he kept nurturing in his chest. Because Steve always survived the toughest shit, no matter how bizarre it may be. A brutal fist fight with three men? He apologized about getting his sweater ruined despite his concussion and bleeding face. A wild bear attack that nearly took Will Byers? Steve was more worried about the kid than himself. Freak mall fires? He worried that Eddie would be mad at him for missing their anniversary date while being treated for third degree burns on his sides.

Getting lost in the woods and three and half feet of falling snow? He had to come back with an embarrassed smile and frostbite in his fingers and toes.

Eddie clutched the blankets tighter around him. He stared out the window for so long that his eyes ached. But he worried that if he looked away, even for just a minute, then Steve would be lost for good and wander endlessly. It was a silly superstition, but Eddie was a beggar at this point.

He shivered, the blankets barely substituting his husband’s steady warmth. He should probably make some tea but what’s a cup of tea going to do in bringing Steve back?

Knock. Knock.

Eddie startled, his gaze breaking away towards the front door. He gave out a sigh, got up from the couch, and shuffled towards it. Already the small hearth of hope in his chest is sputtering out with the image of Hopper giving the dreaded news. He burned that away as soon as it popped into his head.

“What is-” The words died in his mouth just as Eddie opened the door.

Steve stared back at him. His hat and gloves were missing, his jacket was partially covered with snow, and his lips were a startling blue. Alive.

Eddie immediately threw his arms around his husband, weeping and kissing him in relief without a care of how cold Steve’s lips felt.

—

It took another few days for the hospital to allow Steve’s discharge. Despite the waning hypothermia and everyone’s prodding, Steve hadn’t explained the story of his absence. Only that he had been trekking through the woods as usual and… nothing.

Doctors presumed it might’ve been some traumatic amnesia from exposure. Honestly, Eddie couldn’t care less. He was just fucking glad Steve was back.

Steve was quiet on the way back. Eddie tried not to overwhelm him with his own questions, but kept him in a massive blanket pile. Steve was still horribly cold despite the heaters. It was a surprise that he wasn’t shivering either.

“I made you tea,” Eddie pushed a warm cup to his hands. He tried not to frown at how oddly chilly they felt. “Peppermint with honey and shredded cinnamon - your favourite.”

Steve just blinked down at the cup. His lips, once flushed back to color at the hospital, were paled into a bluish tint. He set the cup back down on the table. “I don’t want it.”

“You should really drink something warm, sweetheart. You’ve been outside for-”

“I like it cold.”

Eddie blinked. Waited for Steve to elaborate but instead his husband turned his eyes towards the same window Eddie had been looking out during the three days of hell.

Finally, Eddie sighed. Tugged Steve up by his hand, still cold against his own warm palms. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart.”

He tucked in Steve extra diligently with another blanket and laid right next to him. It felt strange - his husband back to his side yet his usual warmth was barely radiating off his body. It worried Eddie and he made a mental note to go to the hospital in the morning if Steve’s body heat stayed like this.

Eddie thumbed lightly over Steve’s lips, still in that bluish tint. That worried him too. He whispered, “What happened out there, sweetheart?”

Steve said, “I like it cold.”

Somehow, Eddie fell asleep.

—

Eddie woke up with a violent shiver. He blinked rapidly, vision adjusting to the dark. Once it did, he saw that the bedroom windows were wide open, letting in gusts of flurries.

He cursed, his hand reaching out automatically to Steve-

It patted on a cold, flat blanket instead.

Eddie was quick to jump out of bed, calling out Steve’s name. The entire cold was freezing and every window was open. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the front door was open, exposing the view to the woods where a trail of footprints led there.

He hurriedly put on his warmest jacket and boots as he rushed outside. The crunching of snow seemed to echo louder than calling out Steve’s name.

He kept his eyes on the footprints, sucking in frigid air into his lungs as he ran.

His hands felt numb already. He put the gloves on, had he?

Eddie licked his lips once, wincing at the chapness.

He stumbled over something and fell into the snow. It bit through his face, stung it to one expression as Eddie lifted his head up.

Steve was in front of him. His hands were already on Eddie’s cheeks, thumbing away the snow. Then he leaned his head in.

Eddie only caught a glimpse of his still-blue lips before his eyes shuttered shut at the much-needed warmth.

#klaus writes #steddie #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles

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