#going to cas's room. saying something maybe. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

steddiehyperfixation · 1 year

Text

accidental eavesdropping (steddie ficlet)

based on this post by @imjust-that-shy. i hope i did this vision justice <3

The doors to the bathroom burst open, and - on some pure, inexplicable instinct and with nearly inhuman speed - Eddie darts back into the stall he'd just been about to come out of and leaps to perch on top of the toilet seat, crouched there like some sort of creature.

He hears the sound of retching and the stench of vomit fills the air. He holds his breath, wrinkling his nose and trying to imagine what possible context could be behind Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley bursting in here together to puke their guts out. Eddie knows the two of them work together, he’s seen them sharing shifts at Scoops Ahoy when he's walked by. (Not that he often intentionally passes by the ice cream parlor and slows down just to catch a glimpse of Steve or anything… Although who could really blame him if he did? Like, come on, Steve in that uniform? Hello, sailor.) His mind is busy spinning stories of possible explanations, ranging from spoiled ice cream to sneaking alcohol and getting too drunk during their break.

Eddie's leaning towards the 'drinking on the job' explanation, especially when the retching finally ceases and Robin says something about the room no longer spinning. Those little rebels, Eddie thinks approvingly.

“When’s the last time you, uh…peed your pants,” Steve is asking Robin now, in response to her telling him in a Russian accent to interrogate her.

Eddie curls over his knees, tilting his head to try to peer through the gap between the stalls and the floor to put an image to his eavesdropping. Might as well, he’s kind of stuck here and there’s really not much else he can do right now. He can see Steve’s legs, one bent and the other stretched out in front of him, and Robin in the stall past him laying on the floor with her legs up against the stall wall as she answers, “Today…”

“What?” Steve questions.

“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw!” Robin says.

Okay…what? Russian doctors and bone saws? Eddie’s now thoroughly intrigued, if a little (okay, a lot) confused. Maybe they’re talking about a movie they watched or something.

Steve’s legs shake with his laughter. “Oh my god.”

“It was just a little bit, though.” Robin pinches her fingers together as she twists her body in Steve’s direction while he laughs again and mutters that whatever it is they took is still in her system. She pushes her feet off the stall and slides to sit against the opposite wall. Eddie can only see her legs now. “Okay, my turn. Have you…ever been in love?”

Steve answers that he has, with Nancy, and makes a sound mimicking an explosion. Eddie remembers that, remembers seeing Steve and Nancy being all touchy and cute in the hallways at school while he was trying his damndest to convince himself that he absolutely definitely did not wish he was in Nancy’s place. It didn’t work very well. And it’s not working very well now either as Steve starts to go on about some new girl he likes now instead - some girl who’s funny and smart and can crack secret Russian codes (okay, seriously, what is it with these two and Russians?) and oh shit, he’s talking about Robin.

Eddie very suddenly feels like he should not be here listening to this, eavesdropping on Steve confessing his feelings for someone. Not only is that, like, a private and personal thing, but also what if Robin likes him back and they start kissing or something right here in this bathroom where Eddie has to sit here and listen to it and that would just be horrible for him for so many reasons and- Eddie’s getting ahead of himself. Robin hasn’t even said anything yet, and her knees are pulled up to her chest and her voice shakes when she confirms she’s still alive after Steve asks if she’s OD’d there in the silence and she uncurls with a deep sigh. All signs that she doesn’t actually like Steve back.

Eddie watches as Steve shifts and slides under the stall into Robin’s, and catches sight of the nasty bruise marring nearly half of Steve’s otherwise beautiful face as he does so. Now concern has been added to the list of emotions this eavesdropping experience has rollercoastered him through so far. The bruise looks fairly fresh and Eddie can’t help but wonder what the hell gave Steve a black eye like that and if he’s okay.

After a brief spiral of concern for Steve’s face, Eddie tunes back into reality to find himself staring at Steve’s ass as Steve now sits with his back against the stall wall opposite Robin. Eddie blinks, expands his tunnel vision to include Steve’s lower back and Robin’s legs which are also visible beneath the gap in the stalls.

“It’s not because I had a crush on you,” Robin is saying. “It’s because…she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

“Mrs. Click?” Steve sounds confused.

“Tammy Thompson,” Robin clarifies. “I wanted her to look at me.”

Oh. Eddie should really not be listening to this. Robin is trying to come out to Steve, trying to share something deeply personal and vulnerable with him and only him, not knowing that she’s outing herself to an eavesdropping near-stranger as well. Eddie feels violating and intruding. He can’t imagine how he would feel if he found out someone he barely knew had been secretly listening in on him coming out - probably not great, probably terrified. This is something he shouldn’t know, not like this.

“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl,” Steve says, his tone unreadable, and Eddie’s heart nearly stops, sure his own anticipatory anxiety is likely only just a fraction of what Robin must be feeling right now.

“Steve…”

“Yeah?” A pause. “Oh,” Steve’s voice goes soft. “Oh… Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Robin sighs. Eddie can see her hands nervously rubbing at her shins. “Holy shit.”

Steve is silent for a few painfully long moments. Eddie’s hands curl nervously around his own shins. Is Steve going to be homophobic? Should Eddie be worried for Robin now?

“Steve, did you OD over there?” Robin asks, trying to be light but Eddie can hear the anxiety in her voice.

“No, I just, uh- just thinking,” Steve responds.

“Okay…” Robin’s voice is barely audible. Eddie is holding his breath.

“I mean, yeah,” Steve says finally, “Tammy Thompson’s cute and all, but the only reason I never gave her the time of day was because I was too busy staring at Eddie Munson.”

The aforementioned Eddie Munson releases the breath he’d been holding with an involuntary squeak and claps a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, neither of them heard him over the sound of Robin shouting. “What?! Eddie Munson?! You liked Eddie Munson?” she squawks, voicing Eddie’s own stunned thoughts perfectly.

“Yeah,” Steve confirms casually, completely unaware that he's throwing an eavesdropping Eddie into an absolute crisis right now. There's a soft thudding sound like Steve's hitting the back of his head against the stall wall. His voice gets kind of wistful, almost dreamy, as he says, “His rings, man. Rings and tattoos…and that long hair and those chains he'd wear… Honestly just his whole punk aesthetic thing had me mesmerized.”

“Pretty sure he's metal, not punk,” Robin corrects him.

Thanks, Robin. Also, what the fuck is happening right now?

“Whatever. Still hot as hell,” Steve says.

Eddie squeaks again and practically shoves his whole fist in his mouth to keep himself from making any more noise, his teeth knocking against his rings. The rings Steve likes, apparently. He feels like he's going to pass out, his heart beating so erratically it's making him lightheaded. King Steve - the popular, preppy, stupid, gorgeous, dumb jock Eddie's been crushing on since forever - just called him hot????

“Did you hear that?” Robin asks suddenly, voice low and cautious.

Shit.

“Is anyone else in here?” Steve calls out.

Fuck.

Eddie bites down hard on his knuckles and holds his breath, going impossibly still. If they get up and search the bathroom, then he’s about to be caught red handed, crouched on top of a toilet seat with his fist in his mouth and his face flushed scarlet, eavesdropping on their private conversation about secret Russians and gay crushes. Eddie contemplates falling into the toilet and attempting to flush himself down it. Every god imaginable is receiving a silent prayer from him right now as he watches apprehensively through the gaps in the stall. One of those gods must've heard and taken pity on this poor gay disaster of a man crouched like a goblin in a bathroom stall, because after a few horrible seconds of silence, all Steve does is lean down to peer beneath the stalls for a moment before sitting back up and saying, “Looks empty. I think the drugs are making us hear things.”

“Yeah, probably,” Robin says. Then she giggles, knocking her leg against Steve’s. “I still can’t believe you were into Eddie.”

Steve flicks Robin’s knee. “I can’t believe you were into Tammy.”

“What’s wrong with Tammy?!” Robin protests.

“What’s wrong with Eddie?” Steve counters. “At least he’s actually got talent. Tammy’s a total dud - she wants to be a singer and shit but she can’t even hold a tune.”

Eddie is going to die. He is actually going to die right here, right now, because Steve Harrington thinks he’s hot and talented. And then Steve starts mimicking Tammy, singing Total Eclipse of the Heart in a ridiculously goofy voice, and now Eddie is going to die because he finds that so stupidly endearing and adorable. Maybe he should just flush himself down the toilet, save himself from this hopelessly pathetic crush of his. Instead, he’s saved by the bathroom doors bursting open again and a new voice shouting at them, “Okay. What the hell?!”

Steve and Robin collapse into a fit of giggles before being dragged to their feet by the newcomers and led out of the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone and reeling and struggling to process literally everything he’s just overheard. He finally hops down from his toilet perch and exits the stall like he’s in a daze. He’s not sure how long he had been camped out in there - probably only about ten minutes - but it felt like hours, so long that the world outside of that single bathroom stall almost feels foreign and unfamiliar now.

Eddie grips the bathroom sink and stares at his flustered reflection in the mirror and whispers to himself, “What the actual fuck?”

---

Later, years later, only after he and Steve are already dating, Eddie tells him all about this experience, and Steve laughs so hard he nearly cries.

5K notes · View notes

lost-and-ephemeral · 2 months

Note

hii can i request angst for love and deepspace, reader and mc are different ppl. our boys made plans with reader but forgot and left them hanging to hangout with the mc instead 😞

Series: In Her Shadow, pt.1 (ft. main trio)

Part 1 | Part 2

It feels like you've never been enough for him.

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)

Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, reader is not MC, reader and guys are dating

A/N: Thanks for your request, sweetheart! Hope it doesn't look too OOC.

Part 1 | Part 2

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´-

Xavier

Your relationship with Xavier could be called ideal, if not for one nuance.

His colleague, who takes up much of his attention.

There were times when he'd come home and talk about her with such excitement that you'd start to feel like a third wheel. But usually afterwards Xavier would apologize and say that no matter how strong his colleague was, you would still be the best for him.

And you'd like to believe that. Until he forgot about dinner with you because of her.

You've planned a perfect evening and cooked everything he loved so much, knowing how tired he might come back after a mission. Only for him to never show up this evening.

You've been waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Feeling how your heart was breaking even more with each passing minute. Maybe something bad had happened? Maybe he was hurt?

You texted him, only to get back, "Don't worry, I'm fine, my colleague just invited me to the cafe after our mission."

No apologies, no regrets. It seems that he just forgot about you and your plans together.

For a while you were silently sitting in your living room, staring at the phone screen. It was hard to describe all these feelings that were bubbling up inside you. Jealousy, anger. You didn't even bother to remind him about your dinner together and just put all the dishes away in the fridge.

Since when did she become more important than you?

Zayne

You always knew about Zayne's childhood friend. But you couldn't even imagine that she would make you feel so unwanted.

You had plans for today while your lover had the day off. As a cardiac surgeon, Zayne was busy most of the time and would come home late, completely exhausted. Of course, you wanted to spend every free day with him.

Except for one thing.

His childhood friend constantly overshadowed you. Well, you could understand why that was happening. After all, their friendship (or was it more than that already?) had been going on for years, and you couldn't stop Zayne from seeing her.

But…

Sitting alone in the restaurant, at the table you'd booked together, you barely held back tears as you stared at the message marked 'unread'.

When Zayne didn't appear in time, you were surprised. He was always so punctual, what was wrong this time?

But when you asked him where he was, he replied, "Sorry, she asked me to visit an old candy store with her, I'll be back in a few hours," and you realized he'd completely forgotten about you.

And your last message went unread.

"Zayne, but we made a reservation for today."

You sat alone for so long that people started to squint in your direction. The only option was to get up and leave the restaurant before your heart was completely shattered.

And so you did.

Rafayel

Usually Rafayel's studio was always open for you, so you could come to see him anytime.

But as it turned out, you weren't the only one he welcomed with open arms, day or night.

Today was your day off and you were planning to visit Rafayel so you could help him with something in his studio. He asked you to come in the first place. Usually that meant he just wanted to see you and was looking for any excuse, even the silliest one.

But instead you were met with a locked gate.

At first you thought it was just another joke, that Rafayel would come out and let you in, yet some time passed, and you continued to stand there alone. You tried to call him, but it was unsuccessful. No matter how long you waited, no one answered.

Finally you decided to call Thomas to ask him if something important had happened. Maybe Rafayel once again forgot about his own exhibition and had left in a hurry.

But it turned out you were the only one who had been forgotten.

"He said he was going to buy new paints with his bodyguard," Thomas explained. "Or something like that. Better not wait for him until evening, he's unlikely to be back before that time."

Devastated, you stood there for a while longer, thinking about his 'Ms. Bodyguard' who was spending more and more time with your beloved. It wasn't the first she took him away from you.

But this was the last straw.

You turned around, heading back home and desperately holding back tears.

It wasn't fair.

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

519 notes · View notes

zegrasdrysdale · 4 months

Text

[ game day ] n. hischier

day seven of malia’s christmas fic marathon

paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) flies into the states early to surprise and watch her boyfriend play a game before he goes on the short Christmas break

warning(s) : none

author’s note : sorry that this is on the shorter side but i am tryinggg to catch up on fics for the marathon (i timed this out really poorly bc i didn’t realize how exhausted i would be from work everyday)

༺═──────────────═༻

The plane lands 20 minutes before game time so she has to rush to get to the Prudential Center from Newark airport. It should only be a 10 minute drive but it’s a few days before Christmas so everyone is flying in to spend the holidays with their families.

Including (Y/N).

She's lucky that her Uber is waiting for her right outside the airport after she grabs her suitcase from baggage claim. There is already a ton of traffic leaving the airport and she groans as she checks the time. She's going to miss warmups but maybe she can get there in time for puck drop.

There's a text from Nico that comes through as she finally leaves the airport.

neeks ❦ - 6:59 pm can't wait to see you after the game. gonna score a goal or two for you tonight. text me when you land. i love you, mien liebling ♡

(Y/N) realizes that he's back in the locker room between warmups and puck drop. Traffic finally begins to clear up so the Uber speeds up going into Newark. Her knee bounces in the backseat as she keeps an eye on the time.

"Anxious for the Devils game tonight?" The Uber asks with a thick New York accent. "I see you're headed to the Rock."

"Just anxious I won't get there in time for puck drop," she replies. "My boyfriend is playing in the game and I wanted to surprise him before the puck dropped but I didn't realize how much traffic there would be two days before Christmas."

The Uber looks very surprised when she says that her boyfriend is playing. "Devils player, I hope?" he curiously asks as he looks in the rearview mirror at her.

"Yeah," she replies. "I'm not wearing 13 for no reason."

"Ah, the captain," he says as he pulls out front of the Prudential Center. "Good choice. Well, good luck to the boys tonight. Hopefully they can bring home this dub against Detroit."

Yeah, me too. She doesn't say it out loud as she gets out of the car. She grabs her suitcase and heads around the building where she knows Nico parks all the time.

(Y/N) puts her suitcase in the trunk of Nico's car with the extra key she has before she heads to the back entrance of the building. With a flash of the VIP badge and ticket that she bought to security, (Y/N) gets into the back entrance of the Prudential Center with no issues.

She can hear the starting lineups being announced as she rushes through the concourse so they haven't even gotten to the National Anthem yet as she practically sprints to the seat she bought.

The singer is being announced as she walks down the steps to her front row seat right next to the Devils' bench. Luckily, Nico is standing closest to the glass on the ice as the singer begins to sing.

She isn't being very subtle with the way she's walking in front of everyone. When she looks on the ice, she sees that her boyfriend is looking at her. Nico smiles and bites his bottom lip when she looks at him. She gives him a small wave then shows him the jersey she's wearing. He has to repress the smile that threatens to spill onto his lips.

Then applause breaks out throughout the arena, signaling that the anthem has ended. Nico puts his helmet back on and skates to his teammates. (Y/N) settles down in her seat and sends Nico a 'looking good out there' text she knows he will see at intermission.

Their eyes occasionally find each other throughout the game. Jack even notices Nico looking toward her at one point during a power play and says something to his captain. Nico's face turns visibly red when he looks at his alternate. Jack laughs at whatever Nico says to him. (Y/N) can't help but capture Nico's flustered face as he gets ready for the faceoff. She'll have to ask him about it later.

Timo scores one in the second period and one in the third. Tyler scores the game winner with eight minutes left in the third, and the Devils hang on for the win. Nico gets a couple shots on goal but no puck luck.

As first star of the game Timo gets interviewed on the ice, (Y/N) makes her way to Nico's car.

She doesn't know if she's shivering from how cold it is outside or if it's because she's excited to see her boyfriend for the first time in over a week. Either way, her entire body is shaking.

While she waits for Nico, she leans against his car and scrolls through social media. There are clips of her arriving to the game and Nico's reaction to seeing her all over Twitter. She can't help but share one of the videos of Nico's reaction with a little heart emoji. The replies and quotes start rolling in almost immediately. The Devils fans are loving the confirmation that Nico was looking at her during the anthem.

The door opens and (Y/N) watches Nico walk into the parking lot with Jack, Luke, Jonas, and Timo. She smiles and walks up to the group.

"Congratulations on your two goal night, Timo," she says to get the group's attention. "And first star." Timo smiles in response but doesn't have time to say anything before Nico finally makes a move.

He immediately envelopes her in a hug as soon as he processes that she's standing in front of him. She giggles when her boyfriend lifts her off her feet. She wraps her legs around his waist so she doesn't fall. "I think that's our cue to leave," Timo tells the Hughes boys as he walks in the direction of his car.

Jack laughs, "Have a good night, cap."

"Use protection," the youngest Hughes states as he, Jack, and Timo head to their cars. She smiles at Luke's comment.

Nico has no reaction to what his teammates say. He's busy burying his face in (Y/N)'s neck and holding her in his arms. "

They stay like this for a few seconds before Nico finally sets her back down on the ground. His hands cup her jaw and she wraps her arms around his waist under his jacket. "I thought your flight was going to get in while I was playing," Nico finally says to her.

"And miss your last game before the short winter break?" she asks with a smile on her lips. "Absolutely not. I know you guys haven't been playing very well and I know how that's been making you feel so I wanted to be here tonight. Proud of you and the boys for bringing in a win going into the break."

A little frown forms on his lips. "You didn't have to leave your family early just to be here for me," he tells her. "Oh my God."

She fixes his beanie and lets out a light laugh. "They told me to come back," she admits to him. "I told them about our conversation after the last game and how I wished I could be there for you because of how frustrated you were so I switched to an earlier flight. Seemed to do the trick because you won tonight."

Nico smiles and shakes his head. His thumbs run over her cheekbones and he sighs. "I truly don't deserve you," he quietly says. "Best girlfriend ever."

"Best boyfriend ever," she retorts as she gets on her tiptoes. They share a quick, soft kiss that Nico tries to deepen but she doesn't let it get too far away from them. "Can we go home? I miss Nala and her cuddles."

He laughs at the mention of their kitten that they adopted a month ago. "Yes, we can go home," he says. "Pretty sure Nala misses you too. She cried right after you left and has slept on your side of the bed every night you've been away."

They get in the car and Nico takes off the beanie. Her jaw drops.

"You asshole," she gasps as Nico starts the car. "You cut your hair."

Nico smiles and she runs her fingers through his shortened locks. "It was too long, liebling," he laughs as he pulls out of the parking spot. "It was getting in the way more often than not." She pouts and Nico notices. "It'll grow back, baby. Promise."

"And you better not cut it again without my approval," she retorts. "You know how much I love the longer hair. Don't make me hide all of the scissors in New Jersey and New York, because I will."

"So dramatic."

"You love me anyway."

He glances over at her with a small smile on his face. "Yeah, I do."

༺═──────────────═༻

MAIN MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

wanna be added to the taglist ? fill out this form !

taglist : @dancerbailey3 @dasiysthings

#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nico hischier #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier fluff #malia’s christmas marathon

420 notes · View notes

marvelfanfn2187a113 · 3 months

Text

One Big Family

Team Free Will 2.0 & Winchester little sister!reader, John Winchester & daughter!reader

Requested by Anonymous

It was impossible, crazy, ridiculous.

But it was also happening. After over twelve years, the Winchesters finally got to see their father again.

It wasn’t what Dean had meant to wish for, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it, especially not now, with what was happening in front of him.

You, his twelve year old little sister, were basically meeting your father for the first time. You were mere months old when he died, so you knew him from pictures only.

After everything had been explained to John, his first request had been to re-meet you. Sam had gone to your room to explain what was going on, and when he returned Dean and John watched as you shuffled along behind Sam, his jacket gripped in your small fists as you hid behind him.

“That’s her?” John breathed, and Dean turned in surprise to see tears welling up in John’s eyes. “She…she’s so big.”

“It’s ok,” Sam whispered to you, trying to coax you out from behind him. You peeked around him to see John getting down on one knee to be less intimidating.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted with a wide smile, and between his soft eyes and the way he said “sweetheart”—just the way Dean said it—you felt your shyness ebbing slightly as you stepped out from behind Sam’s legs.

“Hi,” you mumbled shyly, shuffling your feet as you approached John.

John reached his arms up slowly, hesitantly, as if waiting for your approval. You, never one to turn down a hug, gave it readily and melted into your father’s arms.

Dean had never seen his father smile like he did as he held you in his arms.

“It’s good to see you,” John said quietly as he pulled away. You didn’t seem to know what to say, so Sam spoke up.

“Honey, how about you show him your room?”

You lit up with excitement, snatching up John’s giant hand in your small one and practically dragging him towards your room.

“Ok, ok,” John laughed. “I’m coming!”

“I guess she’s warming up to him,” Sam chuckled to Dean after you disappeared with John in tow.

“We should probably join them,” Dean said. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

…

“Wow.” John laughed. “You’ve gotta lot of toys in here.”

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Daddy bought me most of them, he’s really—“ you trailed off when you saw the look of shock on John’s face.

Sam and Dean entered your room before John could ask what you meant, and as soon as they came in you ran to Sam, suddenly shy again in John’s presence. You didn’t know how he would feel when he found out about the angel that was like a third dad to you.

“Hey, something wrong?” Sam glanced between you and John.

“Um, no,” John spoke up, recovering from his shock. “We were just catching up. Dean, can I talk to you?”

Dean nodded, and he and John stepped out of your room.

…

“Kid, did something happen?” Sam asked gently.

“I—um, I mentioned daddy,” you mumbled, staring at your shoes.

“Hey,” Sam coaxed, kneeling down to meet your gaze. “He’s not gonna be mad, ok? He’ll understand, you didn’t do anything.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” Sam said with more assurance than he felt.

…

“What happened?” Dean questioned.

“It’s nothing, just…” John cleared his throat, and Dean had never seen him so hesitant. “I just wanted to know…does she call you two her dads?”

The question threw Dean a little.

“I…”

“Look, I get it,” John cut in. “She hasn’t seen me since she was a baby, it makes sense. She just, she mentioned ‘daddy’ and I…I was curious.”

Dean nearly cringed, but he kept his face in check. ‘Daddy’ was your moniker for Cas, and Dean wasn’t too sure how his father would react to the knowledge of angels.

“That’s a really long story,” Dean sighed. “I think maybe we should all talk about it.”

…

“So…angels,” John said quietly about an hour later. “And…the apocalypse?”

“Yeah, more than one,” Dean scoffed.

“And an angel, and the son of Lucifer are living with you,” John added.

“Jack,” you corrected with a smile. “He’s my big brother,” you added proudly. With the less-than-welcome greeting Jack had gotten when he entered the world, you had taken it upon yourself to make him family, and even though you were technically eleven years older than him, he always felt like a big brother to you.

“I see,” John said, smiling softly at you. “You three have been busy.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Sam said.

…

The four of you spent all day together, and John did all he could to get to know you.

You hit it off well with him, rambling non-stop about everything he’d missed, and he listened with wrapt attention.

You got to experience a lot of firsts with John—he gave you a piggyback ride, you had a pillow fight, and to cap it all off, the whole family sat down for one last meal. But all too soon, it was time to say goodbye.

The moment the boys found out that John had to go, they decided that you shouldn’t be around when it happened. So, at the end of the night that had ended way too soon, John pulled you into his arms for a final goodbye.

“I’m so proud of you, kid,” he said with finality. “These three dads you got here are raising you right, so you listen to them, ok?”

“Ok,” you promised through your tears.

“Hey,” John pulled back, framing your face with his large hands and using the pads of his thumbs to brush away your tears. “It’s ok, sweetheart. We got this day to remember, yeah? That’ll have to be enough for us.”

You nodded, leaning forward for one last hug. John reciprocated, squeezing you tightly.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” John breathed. Just as he was about to pull away, you stopped him with a tug on his arm and a gentle whisper in his ear. At your words, he smiled and picked you up, and Sam and Dean trailed behind as John carried you into your room…

Where John Winchester got to tuck his little girl into bed for the first time, kissing her head and wishing her goodnight. He closed the door with great hesitation, giving you one final, longing glance before shutting off the light and closing your door.

“You’ve got a good kid in there,” John said to his sons, no longer able to hold back the tears.

“Thanks, dad,” Dean smiled.

“You tell that angel friend of yours thanks for me, ok?”

…

You awoke the next morning to a quiet bunker.

“Daddy?” You began. “Are you back yet?”

With a flutter of wings, Castiel stood in front of you.

“Hello little one,” he greeted with a smile. “Yes, I got back last night after you fell asleep.” Cas grinned when you launched yourself into his arms. “I’ve heard you had quite the eventful day.”

You recounted every moment of the previous day with your father, and Castiel watched with a patient smile, glad that you got to meet John, even if just for a day.

“Well, after such an exciting day I’d say you need a lot more sleep,” Castiel said with a frown when he noticed the early hour.

“Can you tuck me in?” You asked shyly.

He smiled, “Of course little one.”

“You’re awake.”

The two of you turned at the sound of Jack’s voice in the doorway.

“I’m putting her back to sleep,” Castiel informed him.

“I wanna say hi to Jack first!” You insisted, jumping out of bed and running to hug Jack. He laughed and hugged you back tightly, before lifting you in his arms and carrying you to bed.

“Castiel is right, it’s far too early for you to be up, little sister. Get some rest.” He set you down gently and pressed a kiss to your forehead, an action mirrored by Cas.

“Sleep tight, little one.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl

312 notes · View notes

chrisili · 5 months

Text

My apologies

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x fem!reader

Summary: You and Edmund have to explore the underground together, alone and you punch him in his face. Accidentally.

Warnings: Make out session

Genre: fluff, rom-com

Word count: 2,3k

A.N.: So extremely obsessed with Narnia currently sooo here you go. This is in the time of Prince Caspian just for the plot but I imagine Edmund a little older here.

ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR OVER 100 LIKES ON MY LAST FF? ALSO I HAVE MY FIRST 3 FOLLOWERS AND THAT IS BEYOND EXCITING. THANK YOU!!!

Masterlist

________________________________________________________

“Cas, wait! Woah,” while you were, almost casing, after your brother you tripped on a rock. You two were currently in the woods walking to your base where all the other humans, animals, dwarfs, centaurs and what not, were stationed. Caspian turns around to look at you almost tripping on a stone, let’s say he didn’t exactly try to be decent.

“Sister, if you keep this up the King is never gonna want you.” He said laughing while holding you to steady yourself. You look at him half blank, half annoyed. “Yes I am sure out of all the possible situations in the world, tripping in the woods would be THE reason for King Edmund to not be interested in me.” You slap his arm as he tries to help you and you resume your path. “Anyways, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You and the High King Peter assigned me and Edmund to go deeper into the base to explore, to see if we find something useful, right? So, naturally, my question is, why the hell would you do that to me?”

Caspian pulls an arm around your shoulder while he walks with you, “why dear sister, here I thought I was doing you a favor? You obviously like the King and he obviously likes you back so why not spend some time with each other, together eh?”

You nod your head and squint your eyebrows sarcastically. “You know, that is a great idea! How about you send me to uncles castle and we can die there, together eh?”

Caspian looks at you suprised. “I don’t understand?” You roll your eyes, “clearly.”

“Brother tell me, have you maybe noticed how I act around the King?” Y/N asked while they were now on the big meadow in front of their base. As narrator, I have to agree with Y/N. With the handsome dark haired King around her, her head gets all blurry and it is hard for her to think. Although she really likes him she starts being more sarcastic than she already is when she sees his big brown eyes. With Caspian not taking your nervousness seriously and High King Peter actually adoring the thought of his little brother and Y/N, there was nothing to be done.

So you and King Edmund were now in the underground, exploring, dying (Just kidding, only you were, out of nervousness). Edmund was holing up his flashlight to look around, while you were holding a regular torch. You guys didn’t actually talk a lot because your brother was right, the King liked you back so naturally he was pretty nervous too.

“King Ed-” congratulations, you started chocking on your own saliva not even having spoken two words! You cough a little so your voice would come back. “I apologize, King Edmund. I was just wondering why your thing is a lot brighter than mine.” Edmund looked at you and chuckles, which warmed your heart and made your cheeks slightly pink, not that it mattered because it was too dark anyways.

“It’s a flashlight. It has batteries in it, it’s actually hard to explain.” He said scratching his neck. You just nod and kick yourself mentally for even bringing it up. As you two walk further you come across a kind of door frame. There was the frame but no door and in the room behind it was heavy blue lighting, shining though the ceiling, which was of course the moon. You both walked in and not even a minute later a heavy metal door was falling in to the frame. Both your heads turn immediately and you run up to the door.

“No, no, no, no. No please open, please don’t noo…..” you whine while hitting and punching the door to get out. As you realize that the door doesn’t actually open you drop your head with closed eyes.

“I didn’t realize it is such a burden for you to be alone with me.” Edmund said in a sarcastic voice while he just continued walking into the room, which was by the way massive. Not really a room, more like a cave. You turn your head to Edmund and then you started walking after him. “Your Highness I apologize deeply, again. It is not a burden being with you. It is just…” He turns around to look at you, you both standing pretty close to each other while he looks you deep in the eyes. You look back into his and you start giggling covering your mouth. Edmund lifted an eyebrow at you but before he could respond you heard a loud sound coming from the cave.

Both of you slowly walk into the direction where you heard the sound coming from. “I think you should go and look.” You say standing on your tip toes to get a better look from afar.

“Me?” Edmund says also looking into the dark in front of him.

“Mhm.”

“I think it would be better if you went.” Edmund said.

“Funny, because I don’t agree with your opinion in the slightest.”

He turns to you with an imitating look. “Your Highness.” You add.

Edmund breathes out heavily and starts walking up ahead. The further he goes the more he disappeared until nothing was left but darkness again. You started to kind of freak out in your head, because what’s being worse than being alone with Edmund in a cave is being alone with dead Edmund in a cave.

“Your Highness? Your Majesty? King Edmund?” You yell into the dark not getting an answer back. It would be an understatement saying that you were shitting your pants at this point. But you completely lost it when something tabbed your shoulder, your screamed as loud as you could throwing a punch at Edmund. Yes your read that right, the thing tabbing your shoulder was Edmund who was actually excited to prank you a little bit but now he was just holding his eye while tumbling back. “OW!” He yelled painfully while kind of falling and sitting on the ground. You run up to him and kneel beside him.

“I am so sorry my lord! I didn't see you! I thought it was something that wants to murder me, I was looking out for you and you didn’t come back, I got so scared without you so, oh please my King forgive me. I didn’t mean to really!” You keep rambling about how you are sorry while pulling a beautiful lace handkerchief out of your small satchel. You put some water onto it, also from your satchel and you start to lightly tab it on to the kings, now blue, eye. He hisses at first and moved away because of his reflexes but lets it happen right after. His eyes are closed while sitting there with you, you try to cool his eyes while no one was talking. You were deeply ashamed having punched the love of your life, I mean the king. (obviously)

“First you can’t bare being in one room with me alone and now you punch me in the face, you must really hate me.” He laughs a little still eyes closed. You take his hand with both of your hands, your words desperate. “Oh no, no your Highness. Quite the opposite really! I, in fact like you so much that I am strongly ashamed of myself. I’ve never been so ashamed in my life my lord, I mean it. Around you my head gets dizzy and I don’t know what to do or how to speak, what to say or how to act. I didn’t want to be in a room with you because I was afraid I was going to mess this up, which I obviously did. I don’t expect you to forgive me for I have done such a terrible thing.”

Silence. Deafening silence. Edmund opened his left eye (the good one) and looks up to you. (You kneeling and him sitting you were above him)

“You always hit people in the face you ‘like so much’?” He asks mockingly and you look blankly at him with your eyes building up some tears. When he sees your tears his face changes, he sits up and cups your face with his warm hands. He removes your tears with his thumbs repeatedly because you just wouldn’t stop crying.

“Y/N now I have to apologize. I was insensitive, I shouldn’t have mocked you about your feelings. Please stop crying, I can hardly see your beautiful eyes.”

Your heart stopped beating and you died on the spot, at least that’s what it felt like. “My what?” You said almost whispering, having stopped crying immediately and just looking blankly into Edmunds face. He smiled a little while holding your face softly.

“Your beautiful eyes, I always love looking at them. Just like the rest of you actually… I really like looking at you. Does that sound awkward? It does, doesn’t it?” He says dropping his arms while staring at the very interesting stone floor.

“Your Highness, I like looking at you a lot too.” You say smiling and he looks up at you again. He really wanted to keep staring into your eyes but for some unknown reason his eyes started to look at your lips instead. He took your face into his hands again to pull you closer and just before your lips were touching, he looked at you again, asking permission. You smiled and closed the distance between you.

Both of your eyes were closed, I mean his anyways because you hit him but still. You put one of your hands on his shoulder while moving the other one to cup his hand that is still cupping your face. It was just a peck but when he was about to pull away, you pulled him back in. This time moving your lips against his. Edmund was smiling widely into the passionate kiss while moving one hand down your neck. Without realizing it you climb onto his lab and kiss him faster now, both of your breathing sped up and you could hardly keep your hands to yourself. He actually bit your lip and you moaned a little into his mouth, that’s when you pulled away.

You looked at each other breathing fast, hair messy and unable to speak. Edmund tho was the first to say something. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. I went too far.” You shook your head. “No that is not it. It’s just I mean, it’s not really romantic here.” You say laughing a little and he starts laughing with you. Both of you helped each other up, having hearts in all three of your eyes.

Edmund told you then that when he went into the dark he actually came back through the dark, meaning it was kind of a loop.

“Are you saying we are trapped in here forever?!” You exclaim looking shocked.

“I don’t know, it seems to be some sort of magic, we could climb the wall but I don’t know if we fit through the holes.” He says looking up at the ceiling.

“Your Highness, no offense but even if I wanted to I couldn’t climb these walls, any walls for that matter.”

“Edmund.” He says not looking away from the ceiling.

“Excuse me?” You ask back.

“It’s Edmund, not ‘your Highness’.”

“How about, my love?” You ask chuckling and he looks at you blankly.

“Or not, it was just a thou-” you couldn’t finish your sentence because Edmunds lips pecked yours smiling. “I would like that very much, my queen.” He says kissing your cheek.

You couldn’t say anything because another voice appeared. “Edmund? Y/N? Are you in there?” You hear King Peter yelling from the other side of the metal door. Edmund rushed over to the door and yelled back. “Yes Peter, we are in here! Do you think you can open the door from outside?” Not having even finished, the door went up and on the other side were Peter and Caspian smiling.

“You idiot! You planned all of this didn’t you!” You yelled at your brother, storming to him and hitting his arm. He tries to shield himself with his hands while he was laughing. “So what it worked, didn’t it?”

“How did you use magic?” Edmund asked his brother.

“What are you talking about?” Peter said confused.

“The cave, it brought me back when I tried to walk further.” Peter started to laugh, “no offense brother but I think you might have lost your orientation in there blaming it on some magic." Edmund just scoffed and turned to his left.

“Oh god, Edmund what happened to your eye!” Peter asked worried wanting to touch Edmunds eye softly but Edmund slapped Peters hand away. “Y/N punched me.” On command, Caspian hit your arm hard. “OW! What was that for!?” You exclaimed while holding your arm. “How dare you punch the king of Narnia! You should apologize!” Caspian answers with a joking angry face. “Oh I’ll apologize all right!” So you and your brother actually started hitting each other or something.

Edmund then took you by your shoulders, away from Caspian walking with your hand in his. He took you out so you both stood under the moonlight, kissing each other softly.

495 notes · View notes

kaleldobrev · 6 months

Text

What Are We?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean and you do a lot of couple things together but yet…you’re not a couple, and you often wonder why.

Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hey! How are ya? I don’t know if you write for chubby reader but if you’re comfortable with that then could you write something about dean and reader being in a situationship and the reader thinks he doesn’t wanna date her cause of how she looks and he confesses that he actually likes her? You can change it however you want. Thank you so much!

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Cursing (2x), Angst, Fluff, Talks of body "issues"

Authors Note: Thanks for the request anon friend! Of course I’ll write it. I don’t discriminate and neither would Dean 👌🏻 | As a girlie who has a slight muffin top myself, I loved this prompt <3 | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Situationship (noun): a romantic or sexual relationship that is not considered to be formal or established.

This was the type of relationship that you've had with Dean for the past several months. At first, it was something that you were okay with because you thought that maybe it would eventually turn into something more. As you felt that if he liked you enough to sleep with you, make out with you, and basically do everything a "normal" couple does, then why wouldn't he eventually want to make things official with you down the road? But it's been months, and there's been remotely no talks about making things exclusive, and you were really starting to wonder why.

Exclusivity was a word that you wouldn't use to describe Dean, but it was something that you wanted with him, wanted with him because he was the one person that you could genuinely see yourself being with. But at this point, based on the current situation that the two of you were in, you were afraid that he didn't actually want to be with you, that he was just using you until he had found someone better...found someone that was his usual toothpick thin type that he tended to go for, which wasn't your body type.

When it came to your body type, it was something that you had a love/hate relationship with. You weren't the thinnest girl in the world, but you still liked the way you looked, as you believed the muffin top you had was just something more to love. And at this point in your situationship, you didn't think Dean minded either, as he would always trail kisses along your stomach, telling you how beautiful you were, and how perfect you were. Complimenting how much he loved your thick thighs as he gripped them. But at the same time, that talk seemed to never leave the comforts of the Bunker; and if it did, it stayed strictly around your mutual friends. The hand holding and kisses would cease as soon as the two of you would leave the Bunker, and you couldn't help but think that he was embarrassed to be seen with you, be seen as someone that he was romantic with.

That's why you were confused, confused about what was actually going on between the two of you. He would constantly tell you how beautiful you were and hold your hand, and do those types of things in front of Sam, Jack, Cas, Jodi, Donna, but would never do these things in public. You were good enough to sleep with, but yet you weren't good enough to be considered his girlfriend?

You walked down the hall, a few books in hand as you made your way to the War Room. But you were stopped when you heard Dean call your name from his bedroom as you walked past. You turned around quickly, and went back to stand in his doorway. “What’s up Dean?” You asked.

“You didn’t say hi to me when you walked past,” he stated, flipping to the next page in his book.

To be honest, you did see him, and normally, you would have said hi to him, maybe chatted for a little bit until you eventually made your way into the War Room. But today, because of what was on your mind, you didn't really want to speak to him until you were sure about how you were going to handle this situationship between the two of you. “Oh, sorry,” you apologized.

“You okay Sweetheart? You seem distracted today,” he stated closing his book.

“I’m always like this,” you said. He got up from his bed and started making his way toward you.

“No, you’re not actually. Your voice is different, and your body language tells me other wise,” he said. “So, what’s up?”

“Very Sherlock of you,” you said. “I’m fine honestly.”

He looked at you with slight disbelief. “Y/N, we've been friends long enough for me to tell when you're lying." There it was. Friends. He used the word friends. You weren't sure if you should be relieved or disappointed.

“Yeah…friends,” you repeated the word.

“Are we not…friends?” He seemed hurt by your usage of the word, which caused you even more confusion.

“Honestly, I don’t know what we are,” you admitted, and you didn't expect those words of yours to come out like that.

He cocked a brow. “What do you mean? Did I do something?” As long as Dean could recall, he hadn't done anything to have hurt you as of late. He tried to recollect everything that he had done or said to you over the last couple of days, and he was honestly coming up with nothing; but there must of be something, as you would have never said something like that to him if there wasn't at least something wrong.

“No, no, you did nothing wrong I’m just…” you sighed. “I’m confused that’s all.”

“What are you confused about?” He asked.

“Do you mind if I came in and we closed the door?” You asked, and he nodded. He felt himself get nervous just as much as you were starting to feel the same. Holding your books in your hand you walked inside and Dean shut the door behind you. Setting your books on his table the two of you sat on the edge of his bed. You had no idea where to start, as you thought you'd have more time to figure out this conversation in your head. “I’m confused about what we are.”

“What do you mean?” He seemed genuinely concerned.

"What this is between us. You say that we're friends, but we have sex, make out, more often than not sleep in the same bed together, do everything normal couples do but yet...you say that we're friends."

"If you don't want us doing any of that anymore that's...fine," he said, but Dean wasn't remotely fine with stopping what was going on between the two of you, because he loved being able to just crawl into your bed at night and just kiss you and hold you in his arms.

You sighed in frustration, as he seemed to completely ignore the point you were trying to make. "That's not what I'm saying Dean. What I'm saying is, well, I'm more like asking really." You took a deep breath, and you felt your heart start to race, slightly afraid to ask what you were about to ask. "If I'm good enough to sleep with and do couple things with, why am I not good enough to be your girlfriend?"

Dean honestly didn't know what to say to you. Well, he did, but he knew that it was a poor excuse of an answer, an answer that he knew that you weren't going to believe even though it was true. All he wanted was to be with you, exclusively be with you (which he essentially already was). But he was afraid, afraid that the second the two of you mutually agreed to be together and only together, that you'd eventually realize pretty quickly how disappointing of a person that he was, that the novelty of him would somehow wear off. "It's cause I'm not thin right?" You asked.

Your question caught him off guard, honestly annoyed that you would say that was the reason he didn't want to be exclusive with you. He honestly didn't understand why you had thought that was the reason, as he thought that he had made it pretty clear how beautiful he thinks you are inside and out. But, apparently he hasn't been doing a good of job as he thought he had been. "What? Y/N, that's not the reason," he stated, his voice slightly annoyed.

"Then what is the reason Dean? I mean, that's honestly the only reason I can think of. Well, that or...you're embarrassed by me," you said, your voice getting lower.

“I’m not embarrassed by you Y/N, you know that,” he said.

"If you're not embarrassed by me, then why won't you hold my hand in public?" You asked. "Because, it's just weird to me you know? I mean, you have no issue telling me how beautiful I am in front of Donna, Sam, Jack. You have no problem kissing me in front of Claire or Cas. But the second we aren't around any of those people, the second we are outside of the Bunker, you want nothing to do with that with me anymore." Your voice was about to break, as all you wanted to do was just not have this conversation anymore; you just wanted to crawl into bed under the covers.

Dean knew you had a point, and he could fully admit to everything that you had just said. He did only hold your hand, or kiss you, or tell you how beautiful you were when they were in the presence of friends or family, but it was because he could be vulnerable in front of them; he wasn't afraid to be vulnerable in front of them, but he was afraid to be vulnerable in front of people he didn't know, afraid that they were somehow going to use the love he had for you against him, and it was something he didn't want to risk. "I'm sorry," he began finally, and you raised a brow at his response. "I'm not embarrassed by you Y/N, not at all. And the reason I'm not with you, with you isn't because I don't think you're skinny enough," he hated saying those words. "Honestly, it fucking breaks my heart that you think that's the reason because I think I do a pretty good job at telling you how beautiful you are," he said, taking your hand. "And it's not just bedroom talk. I honestly think you're so fucking beautiful."

"Even with my muffin top?" You asked, slight amusement in your voice, but you were still serious in your question.

"It's just more of you for me to love," he said.

"When you mean love..." you trailed off. "See, now I'm more confused."

He sighed. "I know what I'm about to say is something that you're not going to believe, but it's the truth," he took a deep breath before he continued. "Not only do I think you're too good for me, but I'm afraid that someone will use what we have together against me somehow, against us somehow. And...I can't...I can't risk that." I love you too much, he wanted to say.

"So, you're telling me the reason you don't hold my hand in public is because you're afraid some demon or something will see that and then use it against us?" You asked, clarifying. "Dean." You wanted to not believe him, but you did, and you hated that this was the reason. You hated that because he was so afraid of losing you, losing what the two of you have, that he didn't want to even hold your hand outside of the Bunker walls.

"I know you don't believe me Sweetheart," he said, his voice sounding slightly sad.

"I do Dean I just..." you sighed. "You know I can take care of myself right? How many times have you seen me take on two, three, four creatures at time and only had a single scratch?" You took his other hand. "Dean, I genuinely want to be with you if you want to be with me. I know you're afraid that you're going to lose me but, newsflash, I'm afraid of losing you too. That's...that's just what life is Dean. It's just more of a reason to go for it, because...we might not always be here."

Dean knew you were right, you were always right. And to your point, it was something that he hated, but he couldn't help but find himself agreeing with. He would rather have a little bit of time with you than nothing at all, because at least he would have some memories of the good times you had together, instead of the constant, "What if's?"

"Dean, I love you," you said. "You're the only person I want to be with okay?" You leaned in, and so did he, mere inches away from each other's lips.

"Love you too Sweetheart," he replied back. He leaned in fully now, meeting his lips to yours.

"Does this mean we're together? Like you'll actually hold my hand in public or is that still off the table?" You whispered.

Dean grinned. "I'll grab your ass in public if you want me to," he winked, and you felt yourself slightly blush at his comment.

The two of you knew that the newfound relationship wasn't going to be easy, but it was something that the two of you were willing to fight for.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #dean x reader #dean x you #reader insert #female reader

600 notes · View notes

hollybell51 · 1 year

Text

Last night on Earth

^don't mind me going absolutely feral over this gif

Navigation

Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s05e03 "free to be you and me"

Word count: 6.4K

Summary: following the hooker failure, you feel that sitting alone in a shitty abandoned house is not the best way to spend one's last night on Earth. Cas seems to agree with you.

Content: smut! Yay! First kisses, first time, making out, handjobs, hickeys, penetrative sex, safe sex (yay!), cowgirl, mutual masturbation, fingering, gags? if you squint? maybe? like a hand over the mouth. Discussions of sex work and sex workers (I'm not commenting on anything, it's just there as dialogue due to the nature of the episode, and all dialogue/internal monologue regarding the topic is purely for the furtherment of the plot). Talking during sex, Cas is loud. Sex on a couch, spooning, almost-love-confessions ("like-confessions"). Very light comment on body image, some very vague descriptions of scars (reader is a hunter). Cas is just Cas and I love him for it. He's also a virgin. Dean's probably a warning but I adore him.

Notes: Heyyyy how's it going? One day into my holidays and I churn out this bad boy. Couldn't get the idea out of my head, and hey, I'm a sucker for virgin angels. This show is rapidly taking over my whole life lmao.

It's also been a while so I just thought I'd remind people of the taglist form, and the existence of my AO3 (if you wanna read my stuff there for whatever reason). Anyways enjoy, stay safe out there xx

“That was quick,” you called as the door creaked open, Dean’s low chuckle echoing through the hallway. You closed the book you’d been reading – a shitty paperback you’d picked out of a bargain bin – and watched as the other hunter dropped his jacket onto a rusted dining chair. You’d expected them to be gone for a few hours, hence your foray into the realms of “downtime”, but it had barely been one since they’d left, Dean throwing an obscenely enthusiastic wink your way as he shoved an apprehensive looking Cas out to enjoy his last night on Earth.

“We had to wrap it up pretty fast.” Dean glanced over his shoulder at Cas, laughter still clinging to his face. You hadn’t seen him look that happy in ages, not for this long. Well, that was something at least.

You’d had your doubts about the whole idea from the moment Dean had mentioned it. Sure, sex was sex. It was something that could be pretty darn nice and that you were glad for in your life, but you weren’t sure if Dean fully grasped that it was never the same with a hooker. It would never feel as good, it would never be meaningful, it would be a service purchased from a provider. A business transaction. That wasn’t any way to experience it for the first time, in your opinion.

“Good time not a long time, then?” you asked mildly.

“Would you say that, Cas?”

The angel stiffened, hands shoved into the pockets of his trench coat.

You wrinkled your nose, suddenly wondering if you should feel bad. “Bad time?”

Dean snorted. “I’m turning in. You tell (Y/N) about it, she’ll give you a pat on the back and tell you it’s alright. And don’t look so… grief stricken.”

“G’night,” you waved to his retreating back, then turned back to Cas. “Really bad time?”

He really did look grief stricken, standing stock still in the dimness. Even his hair looked droopier than usual, and you almost got out of your seat just to push it off his face. You settled for putting your book down and leaning forward.

“She ran away,” he said after a moment. “I think I scared her.”

“Geez,” you frowned. “How’d you scare a hooker?”

He shrugged. “I told her it wasn’t her fault that her father Gene ran off.” Then, as if it explained everything; “He hated his job at the post office.”

You laughed, but stopped quickly. “Oh, Cas. You know the whole–”

“The whole industry is run on absent fathers, I know.” He sighed. “Dean found it hilarious.”

This time, you did get up, crossing the room to pat his shoulder. You knew Dean wouldn’t have meant anything by it, wouldn’t have been laughing at Cas. Still, a pang of what was almost pity shot through you. It wasn’t about the sex, not really, as much as Dean played that aspect up. It was more all the coulds that never would. Cas wasn’t human, as much as he could pass it off (mostly), but there were so many things that he wasn’t going to get to try now. You just didn’t understand how he could so casually volunteer to die at the drop of a hat. It was either incredibly selfless, or incredibly selfish. Or maybe just stupid.

But no, Cas wasn’t stupid. He was razor sharp, a soldier of God, even if you poked fun at him when he didn’t understand your and Dean’s pop-culture reference infused slang. It had only been the last time you’d seen him that you’d vowed to make him sit through all the Star Wars movies, something you hadn’t realised until afterwards had sounded a lot like a “movie and chill” proposal. Luckily, he wouldn’t have picked up on that. Just like he wouldn’t have picked up – like Dean had – the moments where you caught yourself watching him, or the smiles that were just too damned determined to break out on your face when he showed up – either in the real world or in your mind. And thank the heavens nobody but you noticed the tiny flurries of butterflies in your stomach you’d noticed increasingly often when he was around, the surges of warmth that would sneak up and rush over you unexpectedly when you thought of him, the tingles that flooded your skin when he stood that little bit too close to you.

Which, when you thought about it, was maybe contributing to the ounce of vindication you were feeling regarding the hooker failure. It wasn’t all the “I told you so” type of satisfaction, anyway, and you weren’t too proud to admit when you liked someone.

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him now, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You’re giving me a pat on the back and telling me it’s alright,” he sighed, almost mournfully. “Dean said–”

You reached up, pressing a finger to his lips and shaking your head. “You wanna know something?”

He nodded, brows furrowed. He hadn’t drawn back, you noticed.

“It doesn’t matter how much sex Dean has,” you whispered, hand still floating close by his face. “I wouldn’t take a damn letter of his advice in that department.”

“Why not?” His breath tickled your skin, and suddenly you realised just how close you were standing.

You shrugged, dispelling the shiver that had run up your spine. “I just know if a dude came onto me how he comes onto chicks, I’d kick him in the balls.”

“I’ll make a point to not come onto you like he does, in that case.”

It took a moment – past the words “like he does”, not that he wouldn’t come onto you full stop, but like Dean does – for the fact that it was a joke to sink in, then you smiled. Maybe there was, or had been, hope for him yet. You took a breath, turning the words over in your mind. It was now or never, you supposed.

“I want you to know,” you said carefully, “if you die–”

“When. Tomorrow, when I die.”

“Uh, yeah.” You swallowed. How could he be so matter of fact about it? How could he just say it like that? It didn’t matter, you supposed. Whether he said it or didn’t, it wasn’t going to change the fact that it was happening.

“When I die…” he prompted when you were silent.

“I want you to know that I liked you,” you said simply, then shrugged. “I think I was on the way to really liking you.”

He frowned, and for a moment you thought you’d made a massive mistake. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I don’t mind. I know I’m… a dick.”

“Jesus, Cas,” you snorted. “Guess we say that a bit too much, don’t we?”

“Maybe.”

“And we don’t say ‘thank you’ enough.”

He shook his head, still holding your hand. “You don’t have to do this,” he repeated.

“It’s not about that. Not all of it, anyway.” You smiled, glancing at your hand where it met his. It looked big, wrapped around your fingers, and it fitted painfully well. “But, you know, if it’s your last night on Earth…” You looked up, wiggling your eyebrows. You could play it off as a joke if you needed to, you weren’t too far in yet.

That familiar almost-smile you’d come to look for danced over his lips. “You pity me, dying a virgin? Dying,” he added. “A virgin.”

You laughed. “I don’t… pity you. Not exactly. Not because you’re gonna die a virgin, and definitely not because you’re a virgin.”

“Because I scared away a prostitute?”

“Her loss,” you laughed. “And anyway, if it’s your first and last time, it’d be nice to… y’know… feel good.”

He frowned. “Surely a prostitute would know how to do that?”

“Maybe the technicalities,” you shrugged, “but there’s more to it than that. There’s feelings, y’know?”

“Feelings?”

Again, you shrugged, suddenly self conscious. What were you doing? “Two way street kind of thing,” you explained lamely. “Not just someone you want, but someone who wants you. Not just your money.” You were acutely aware of the unspoken words floating beneath the casual sentence. I want you. It could be me.

A pause, where his eyes seemed to bore into your soul. He had a knack for that, you’d noticed. Sometimes you felt like he could see right to the very core of your being. In the dimness, they looked even more startlingly blue than usual. He was so close, you could almost count his eyelashes, almost feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath the coat, jacket, shirt, tie…

“When it’s…” He paused, his tongue darting over his lips. God, his lips. “Someone you want.”

“Mhm.”

“Someone who wants you.”

“Mhm.”

“Not just your money.”

You hadn’t taken your eyes off his mouth through the whole exchange, and your voice, when you asked, sounded softer than you’d meant it to, breathy and faint to your own ears. “Do you want me, Cas? Last night on Earth, and all.”

The corner of his mouth curled up, brows twitching into a thoughtful frown. No, you thought, not quite a frown. Something else, more curious than confused. Almost quizzical. “I think…” He paused, drawing breath. “I think I do.”

“Ok,” you smiled, ignoring the butterfly rampage taking place in your stomach. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen in real life. Not your life, anyway, even if it was Cas’s last night on Earth. It didn’t exist outside the pages of those shitty paperbacks.

“Do you want me?” Cas asked.

“Mhm.” It was all you could manage, really. Then you were stretching up the last few inches between your face and his, pressing your lips gently against his own.

He was perfectly still for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, almost three. Then his hand tightened around yours and he pulled you closer, trench coat rustling where your chest met it. He kissed you the way you remembered the first boy who’d ever kissed you – a boy in your year level at school, at a party, playing spin the bottle no less – had kissed you. The want was all there, the enthusiasm and anticipation and the only half-conscious desire for more. His lips remained shut, but you could feel in it that he knew it wasn’t quite right.

You pulled away briefly, just enough to raise a hand to his mouth and run your thumb over his bottom lip. “Like this,” you murmured, pushing just enough to part his lips. Then your hands were in his hair and you were pulling him down to you, and this time it was perfect.

He made a little sound of pleasure as your tongue slipped beside his, stroking, caressing, gently as you could. Without any guidance, his hand had found the cloth-shielded contours of your breast, tracing the outline with a sort of awe. His fingers ran along the neckline of your top, dipping under the material, curving around your bare shoulder, exploratory and cautious.

You let him explore you, his hands mapping out every curve he could touch, tongue darting into every uncharted depth he could find, tasting and learning and discovering parts of you you hadn’t guessed could be felt like this through just a kiss. Your mind spiralled as his hand eased under your shirt, cool fingers tickling the skin of your hip. He squeezed gently, pulling you against him harder, and you gave in completely. You weren’t sure if it was what he had been going for, but when you pushed your pelvis against his he gasped; a quiet, shuddering little sound that went straight to your panties.

“Ok?” you breathed between kisses, then, at his nod, you did it again.

His voice was strangled when he said your name, the pads of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist. Oh Cas, you thought. A rush of affection washed over you at how eager he was, where just an hour before he’d been being literally pushed out the door by Dean, looking as terrified as you’d ever seen him at the prospect of sex. Now he was kissing you hungrily, kneading at your skin, inching your shirt up off your torso, his feet at risk of tangling with yours as he walked you backwards. Not to mention the increasingly noticeable bulge pressed against you.

“Clothes off,” you breathed, already undoing his tie. “On the couch.”

He paused, then he was shrugging off the trench coat, the blazer following suit – no pun intended – and landing with a soft rustling thump on the floor. You stepped back, just a little, as he deftly unfastened the buttons of his shirt, drinking in every inch of skin like a kid in a lolly shop. Fuck, maybe you had the hots for him even worse than you’d thought.

“Are you going to undress too?” The question was mild, matter of fact, but something in the way Cas had paused midway through relieving himself of his pants and was watching you, hands still on the belt buckle, made you stomach flip.

You cleared your throat, but your voice still came out too low, too husky. “Sure.”

His gaze didn’t leave you for an instant – apart from when he kicked his discarded trousers aside – as you pulled your shirt the rest of the way over your head, slid your jeans as gracefully as you could down your legs. You shivered slightly in the cool night air, acutely aware of your hunter’s body.

Cas’s eyes widened, scanning over you and taking in every inch of your skin. It wasn’t perfect, you were aware of that. It wasn’t like a hooker’s body, it carried you around as you fought monsters, and was littered with the proof of said monster fights. You wondered if Cas had seen other – normal – human bodies like this, if he’d find the painfully obvious reminders of your mortality somehow repellent. You suddenly felt very, very small and very, very human.

“Sorry about… y’know…” You shrugged, patting your thigh awkwardly. “The meatsack’s a little dinged up. Most people don’t look like this.”

“Don’t look like what?” he frowned, finally looking back at your face.

You shrugged again, poking a long white scar over your side. The first werewolf you’d ever come face to face with, and nearly the last. “Scarred. At least not as much as I am,” you added.

A shiver shot up your spine as Cas settled his hands on your bare waist, fingers running over the most noticeable marks. “Don’t apologise,” he said softly. “You’re human, and you spend your days killing monsters. It would be more disturbing if you were unblemished.”

You laughed at that, a small breathy sound. “You think I’m disturbing?”

He smiled faintly. “You’re not so bad.”

You felt your own mouth curve, matching his. “Neither are you.”

He leaned down, his lips meeting yours once more. This kiss was softer, more intimate, maybe a little too intimate. You were vaguely aware of the couch behind you. Before your knees knocked against its side, you broke away – a difficult task, given that Cas chased your lips like a lab rat after cheese – and spun, laying your hands firmly on his chest.

“Couch,” you muttered, giving a gentle push.

He pulled you with him as he sat down, his hands running down over your hips, your thighs, back up again to your waist. He watched you carefully as his touch slid up the centre of your torso, over your bra, lingering momentarily on the anti-possession sigil tattooed over your heart before he moved on, across the line of your ribs. Unbidden, the memory of the last time he’d touched you there sprang to mind; the sharp, burning pain and throbbing after-ache of the Enochian sigils being literally carved into your bones.

“I can see them,” he whispered, as if he’d read your mind. “The sigils.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How do they look?”

“Foreign,” he said after a moment. “They don’t belong.”

You shrugged, unsure how to respond to that. Sure, the sigils weren’t part of you, and you didn’t exactly know how you felt about angel writing being carved into your ribcage, but there was also something reassuring about knowing it was there, knowing you carried that kind of magic with you. In you.

Cas’s eyes lifted from your body, fixing on your own. “Can you feel them?” he inquired.

You shook your head. “Not really. Not physically. But I know they’re there.”

“Perhaps I should have asked,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s your body, after all.”

“No,” you smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I kinda like the idea of you scribbling on me. Bone graffiti.”

“Bone graffiti?”

You felt the smile grow, nodding. “Besides,” you added, “I’ll always have a little bit of you, even after you're gone. Like a… souvenir.”

“Oh,” was all he said. You supposed people were right about impending death making people sappier. But still, what you said was true. Your own ribs had become a kind of lucky charm, a talisman, a locket of sorts.

You dragged yourself out of that line of thinking before you went any further, turning your attention back to the angel currently underneath you on the couch. Underneath you and very shirtless. You’d placed your own hands on his chest in an attempt to not fall over on top of him, and now you let yourself touch him – really touch him. His chest heaved under your fingers as you swept over him, a tiny, strangled noise falling from his lips.

“Alright?” you asked, pausing for a moment.

He nodded, shifting slightly under you. “It’s good,” he said softly.

“Keep going?”

Again, a nod. Cautiously, gently, you spread your fingers over his chest. His heart beat fast, thudding frantically as you moved your other hand lower, down the centre of his torso, following the contours of his lithe muscles. You reached the waistband of his underpants, pausing.

“Can I?” you asked, your hand hovering over his barely concealed erection.

“Yes,” he whispered, tongue darting over his lips. His eyes flicked from your face to your hand, back to your face again.

You smiled as you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. His dick was hot to the touch, hard and already damp at the tip. “You ever touched yourself?” you asked as you withdrew your hand, spitting into your palm.

Cas’s breath hitched. “Once.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, licking his lips again. “Dean said I wasn’t supposed to talk about it.”

“Yeah, well…” You smiled again, wrapping your fingers around his cock and stroking languidly. “You can tell me.”

He gave a sort of half gasp, half moan, his grip tightening on your thigh. “I found Dean’s magazine,” he confessed. “The one with the women, not the cars.”

“Mhm?” You kept your voice mild, focussing on the steady motion of your arm and wrist, your fingers sliding effortlessly over him. You could almost see Cas flipping through the pages of one of those god-awful porn mags Dean insisted on carting around, picture his confused little head-tilt and his frown as he looked through the pictures, his hand creeping to where yours was now, his much larger fingers circling–

“It was uncomfortable,” he continued, jerking you back to the present. “Too hot. I really just wanted it to go away.”

“And did it?”

“Not until I– oh!” He broke off as your thumb slid over the leaking head of his cock, fingers digging into your thigh.

You fought off the surge of heat the sound sent shooting through you, watching his slightly parted lips, his wide eyes. “Did you cum?” you asked evenly.

“Yes,” he panted, hips twitching up slightly. “Oh, (Y/N), yes–”

“Yes, you did cum?”

“Yes, yes I did.”

“Was it good?”

Another soft moan, then he smiled. “Not as good as this.”

Maybe it was the praise, maybe the moan, maybe the smile. Either way, the words went straight to your panties. You ignored it, stopping yourself from grinding against him with willpower that would have impressed Jesus. Although, you weren’t sure how he would have felt about you fucking a literal angel.

You leant forward, kissing his lips gently, then his jaw, then his neck, then his chest. You kept going, tracing a path inexorably downwards, shuffling backwards to straddle his thigh as he shifted with you, now splayed along the couch lengthways.

“Help me out,” you muttered, your hand moving beside your face as you attempted to pull his underwear off. Obediently, he lifted his hips and kicked them aside, the muscles of his stomach twitching as you placed a kiss on the junction of his hip. And holy shit, you could have just watched his torso moving like that forever. You kissed his hip again, sucking gently at the spot, licking over the mark you conjured. Then you added another beside it, and another, and another. A little belt of hickeys across his pelvis.

“Do you, hm, touch yourself too?” he asked, breathless and raw.

“Fuck, Cas.” You paused where you’d been about to kiss the base of his cock, raising your eyes to his. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell again, the skin almost glowing in the dim light.

He frowned. “Am I not supposed to ask that?”

“You can ask me anything you want,” you assured him, kissing the little trail of hair below his belly button. “And yeah, I do.”

“Does it feel good?”

You smiled. “Yeah.”

“Do you…” He paused, searching for the words. “Do you want to do it now?”

“This is about you,” you said softly, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I want you to feel good too.”

You sat up, studying him. There was nothing by sincerity in his eyes, the genuine desire – and desire there was – for you to enjoy yourself. And why shouldn’t you indulge that? You were having a great time as it was, and there was no denying the throbbing ache that had grown exponentially between your legs.

“You want me to touch myself?” you asked, double checking.

He nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Ok.” You shed your own underpants, shivering as the cool air came in contact with your wetness. Slowly, you reached down and ran your finger over your clit, your breath hitching in your chest. You repeated the action, your hand moving further down to circle your entrance, slick gathering on your fingers. You’d done this countless times before, and you weren’t ashamed of it. Masturbation was natural, it was a perfectly normal perfectly human thing to do. This, however was different. You’d never had an audience before, never had anyone watch you with such rapt wonder and awe.

Cas’s eyes flicked down to your bra, then back to your face. A question, almost a request.

“Off?” you asked, already reaching behind your back. He nodded, watching carefully as you shed the garment and cast it aside to join the pile of clothes on the floor. Slowly, reverently, he stretched up and kissed your breast, his hand leaving its place on your hip to trace over the other one.

A shiver ran down your spine and you bit down on your lip, attempting futilely to stifle your moan. Absently, your hand resumed its place between your thighs as Cas’s hand left your chest and found its way to his cock. You’d never in a million years have thought you’d be where you were now; touching yourself on top of an angel touching himself while he did his best to turn your chest into one giant hickey. You were hardly complaining.

Something rustled in the next room over, and you both froze. Fuck, you thought. Dean was still (hopefully) asleep, only the wall and the hastily closed door to that room barring him from hearing you. Cas seemed to have had exactly the same thought, his head tilted slightly as he listened, his breath raising goosebumps on the spit-damp skin of your chest. There was another rustle, then a quiet snort, then nothing. He hadn’t woken, then.

“We gotta be quiet,” you whispered. You shifted, biting back another moan. “Ok?”

“Ok,” Cas nodded. He pressed his lips firmly together, eyes flicking down to where your hand disappeared between your legs. You hissed as you resumed your movement, acutely aware of every possible sound you or Cas made, ears pricked for any other disturbance from nextdoor.

Cas’s free hand was still resting on your thigh, firmly holding you in place on top of himself. His wrist brushed your own with every stroke of his cock, the skin over his stomach and chest twitching ever so slightly. His own thigh tensed as he thrust into his hand, something that you could only describe as a whimper falling from his lips. Heat surged over you, your mind awash with desire. If only that hooker knew what she was missing.

“Sorry,” he muttered almost immediately, eyes darting towards the door.

“‘Salright,” you replied, swallowing hard. Being quiet was a much more difficult task than you’d anticipated, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the possibility of being caught just a little bit. You grunted softly as your finger brushed over a particularly sensitive spot, the familiar rhythm and movements working just as well as ever, and even better when you had Cas to look at. Not to mention the warmth of his mouth where it occasionally found your breasts again.

But you wanted more, you needed more. The same part of you that was electrified by your own touch craved his, especially when his beautiful hands were right there and his eyes were still fixed on you like you were the centre of the universe, his own movements becoming faster and more frantic, chest heaving.

You paused, much as it pained you. “Do you wanna go further?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

Gently, you laid your hand over his and peeled it away from his cock. Wriggling forwards a little, you finally – finally – rocked your hips over his, revelling in the hot hardness of him against your slick. His mouth fell open, fingers tightening on your own.

“Here, Cas. I want you inside me, wanna fuck you properly.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” he sighed, his own hips matching your movement.

“Will you let me? Let me fuck you?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Yes, of course.”

You smiled. “Ok, one second.” You reached over the side of the couch, digging through the pockets of your jeans until you found your wallet – and the little foil package inside it.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked as you tore it open and set the latex atop his dick.

“It’s a condom,” you explained. “So I don’t get pregnant. No offence,” you grinned, “but I don’t really wanna have your babies any time soon.”

“Oh.” He swallowed, processing. “That’s… understandable.”

“All good?” At his nod, you slid the condom the rest of the way down, spitting into your hand once more and resuming your earlier ministrations. “It feels a little different, I know,” you whispered as you moved to grind against him once more.

“It’s still good,” he assured you, placing his hands gently on your hips.

You smiled. “Ready?”

“Yes.” The word was a breath, nothing more, but it was all you needed. Carefully, you lined him up and sank down, watching his face carefully. His eyes widened, his fingers digging into your flesh slightly as a deep groan reverberated through the space between you.

“Gotta be quiet,” you reminded him, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked. “Don’t wanna wake Dean up, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoed, “quiet.”

You leaned forwards and placed a soft kiss on his lips, rocking your hips over his. He was everything you’d imagined and so much more. It was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. You wanted to go back in time and kick your past self for having waited this long.

“God, Cas,” you sighed. “Oh God.”

His brows pinched together slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stretched up and captured your lips with his, moving down over your jaw to your neck, sucking gently just as you’d done to the skin of his hip. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close against you as you lifted and lowered your hips, a faint whine somehow slipping from your lips despite your best efforts.

“Is this, hm, ok?” he asked, his usually gravelly voice made even more so.

“Fuck,” you gasped as his hand came to rest on your ass, kneading at the soft flesh, moving up over the front of your hips where your leg met the rest of your body. “So good, Cas.”

“You’re so good,” he murmured, guiding your movements gently. He thrust into you, his hips meeting yours halfway, stomach muscles flexing.

“Let me,” you said, pushing him backwards into the couch cushions. “You relax, yeah? I’ve got it. I’ve got you.”

He nodded, head tipping back as you bounced on his dick, the rough fabric of the cushion beneath you scratching at your knees. Fumbling slightly, your hands found purchase on his chest and you locked your elbows in an odd sort of imitation of CPR. If CPR was done from the front rather than the side, you supposed, but you weren’t exactly doing any resuscitation.

His chest heaved under your touch, another low groan seeming to echo in the otherwise stillness of the night. The tiny part of your brain that wasn’t totally consumed with the wonderful pleasure-ache of his cock hitting deep inside you and the burn of your thighs was torn between telling him to be quiet and just listening to him, but then he was licking his lips again and his mouth was falling open and you were lost.

“(Y/N),” he panted, his eyes fixed on your face. “Oh, (Y/N), oh my–”

“Alright?” you asked, biting back a moan as you found a particularly good angle.

“Yes, yes, of course. It’s, hm, so good.” He glanced momentarily down at where your body met his, another groan rumbling in his chest.

“Sh–” you whispered, half tempted to press your hand over his mouth. Or maybe your own, given the struggle you were facing to remain quiet yourself.

“Sorry, sorry I–”

You cut him off quickly. “It’s alright Cas, you’re fine. Just, fuck–”

“(Y/N),” he panted, the muscles of his arms and stomach flexing as his fingers gripped the couch cushion, luminescent in the dimness. Again, his eyes flicked downwards, this time to the soft mound of flesh currently on display.

You smiled, reaching down to take his hand, drawing it up to rest over your pelvis. His skin was warmer than you’d ever felt it, faintly clammy and God his hand was big under your own. You couldn’t count the number of times you’d caught yourself picturing his hands in this kind of context, and you didn’t want to try. His fingers splayed over your skin, moving with you, covering the whole space below your naval.

“That’s where you are,” you panted. “That’s where I can feel you, Cas, right there.”

A small, strained noise you could only describe as a whine. “Is it, ah, good? Do you like it? Do you like feeling… me?”

“Fuck,” you sighed. “Yeah, sure do, Cas. Do you like feeling me?”

He smiled, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Of course. I like it immensely.”

You felt yourself clench at his words, and this time you were unable to restrain the downright pornographic moan that tore from your throat. Any other time, you might have been embarrassed, but Cas seemed to like it. Pressing your lips firmly together, you glanced hastily towards the other room, but as far as you could tell there was no disturbance.

“(Y/N), oh, (Y/N), I don’t think—” He swallowed hard, eyes wide and back on your face.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t— I don’t think I can be quiet, (Y/N) I—”

Affection bloomed alongside the desire in your gut, and you had half a mind to tell him it was alright, he didn’t even have to worry about being quiet at all. It wasn’t like you didn’t love the noises he was making. But Dean was only one room over, and you didn’t want to wake him.

“You can, Cas,” you breathed, “you can. You’re doing so well already, we just gotta— fuck.”

He’d bucked his hips up into you, the movement jolting the steady knot of pleasure forming low in your stomach. He was close, you could see it as much as hear it, but the thought of the thin walls and your friend sleeping in the next room over had taken root more firmly in your mind now.

“It’s so much,” Cas gasped. “Oh, oh, (Y/N) it’s so much—”

You managed a smile, slowing down your movements a little. “I know,” you said softly. “You’re ok, yeah?”

He nodded frantically. “Hm, yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Keep going, please—”

Another soft moan slipped from your mouth, Cas’s answering groan enough to make your legs shake. It was too loud, and any other time you’d have soaked up his praises and curses and everything, but not now. After a moment’s hesitation, you clamped your hand firmly over his mouth, sh-ing him gently. If possible, his eyes widened even further and he groaned against your skin.

“Alright?” you breathed.

Another frantic nod, an almost-whimper as your grip firmed up. Well I’ll be damned, you thought vaguely. Who’d have guessed he was into that?

You felt him shiver all over as you continued to rock your hips over his, his hand where it rested on your hip tightening. You wondered if you’d have finger-shaped bruises later. It didn’t matter, you told yourself as he moaned again, his stomach muscles tensing, something that could have been your name squashed under your hand.

“Sh, shh!” you gasped. Between holy shit I’m so close and holy shit he’s so close, the thought that Dean was right there and would hear you was still rooted in your mind. “Cas, sh, Dean’s right– ah, fuck, Dean’s–”

You broke off as Cas’s chest heaved, his hips bucking up into you once more. His mouth had fallen open under your hand and he was gasping something, angel curse-words, maybe? It didn’t matter, not when his eyes were screwed shut and his head was tipped back, your name sprinkled into the litany of foreign words like a prayer.

The sight was enough to make the bomb that had been building in your stomach explode, sparks of pleasure shooting through your aching legs right to your toes and back up again. You might have said Cas’s name, you weren’t sure, but the sentiment was there. You clamped a hand over your own mouth, nothing but the need to be quiet reverberating through your pleasure-blanked mind.

After what felt like an age, your brain managed to find its way back into your skull and the aftershocks of your orgasm faded from your body. Gently, you removed your hand from Cas’s mouth and looked down at him, smiling.

“Alright?” you asked.

His hair was a mess, his brow lightly beaded with sweat, cheeks flushed. There was even a slight red mark where your hand had been, which you stroked gently.

“I’m more than alright,” he smiled, turning to place a tiny kiss on your fingers. “Are you?”

“Good,” you nodded as you slid off him, mourning the sudden emptiness momentarily as you peeled off the condom, tying it in a neat knot to be disposed of later. Then he was lifting his arm, wriggling with you as if he could read your mind, and you were being cocooned against his body.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, “if I was too loud.”

“You weren’t,” you assured him quickly. “Not at all. Sorry about… gagging you. I should’ve asked. That’s not what usually happens.”

He hesitated, turning to meet your eyes. “I… didn’t mind.”

“No?”

He shook his head, a small, nervous smile dancing across his lips. “No. In fact, I quite liked it.”

You felt your own smile widen as you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, taking his hand where it rested on his chest. “Good,” you said. “What about the rest? What do you think?”

He sighed, a beautifully satisfied noise that flooded you with warmth. “I think I should not have waited this long.”

You laughed, pressing closer. “Mhm?”

“Mhm. Thank you, (Y/N), truly.”

“Oh,” you said softly, turning away to hide the blood rushing to your face. “That’s ok, Cas. Thank you.”

He gave another little hum, shifting to drape his arm over your waist and pull you into him, fingers skimming your ribs. Getting spooned by a divine warrior of God, you thought with a thrill. Real life really was stranger than fiction.

“You’re tired,” he murmured, his voice seeming to rumble through you in the best way possible. “You should sleep.”

“Hold on,” you protested as you felt his arm withdrawing. You grabbed his hand, pulling it firmly back down to rest on your stomach, wiggling closer. “There was a blanket on the back, grab that. I’m staying here.”

You could almost feel him frowning when he replied. “You’d not rather a bed?”

You only hesitated a moment before bending to kiss his arm. “I’d rather you.”

He didn’t seem to know quite what to say to that, but after a beat something heavy and slightly scratchy was being draped over you, and Cas’s arm was tightening around your waist, and his lips were pressing against your shoulder.

“G’night,” you whispered.

“Good night, (Y/N).”

It was Dean who found his two friends curled together on the couch the next morning. He snorted, taking in the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders in tandem with Cas’s, his hand enveloping your smaller one where it rested just above the blanket, the assortment of what was very clearly Cas’s suit and your own clothes scattered over the floor. Well, he supposed, the night hadn’t been a complete failure. He had half a mind to throw something at you, the scene was so jarringly… sweet.

“Rise n’ shine lovebirds,” he called instead, “we’ve got shit to do.”

#supernatural #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel smut #castiel x you #supernatural fanfiction #shameless smut #supernatural smut #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #cas x reader #female reader #x reader #reader insert

1K notes · View notes

violette-hue · 8 months

Text

Fated | (01)

Summary: Azriel is forced to find some sort of release after being barred from pining for Elain. He finds a lovely distraction at Rita's.

Trigger Warning(s): minors do not interact, 18+, SPOILERS, smut, partying, one night stand, not proofread

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Making this, hopefully, into a series :)

Azriel should have been furious, or at least insulted. Instead he felt relieved to get a few days off. When Cassian had commented on his recent crankiness and Rhysand had agreed, he was more than ready to defend himself. But then Rhysand had suggested he take a much needed break. And then Cassian had made the comment about getting laid. He wasn’t wrong.

For weeks, Azriel and Elain had been teetering on the edge of teasing and flirting. For weeks Azriel had gotten so close to being with her, feeling skin against skin, cock buried deep within her. Yet, at every opportunity, something—or someone—had interrupted. Rhys. Cas. Feyre. Even Nyx, from time to time. Azriel new Rhys didn’t want him with Elain, but now it was starting to feel like everyone else was in on it. Conspiring against him.

But would they really be conspiring against him if they gave him a few days off to fuck?

Azriel took a deep breath as he entered Rita’s. He wasn’t really sure what to look for. A blonde, like Elain? A brunette? He wasn’t even entirely sure he’d be able to pull anyone. Elain was still plaguing his mind. It was her he wanted, after all. Maybe he should just go home and sneak into her room.

Just as he was about to turn to leave, someone caught his eye. His eyes trailed over the curves of her body, drinking her in. She was beautiful, one of the most beautiful females he’d ever seen. The lights caught on the sparkles of his dress, and for a brief moment, Elain was forgotten. It was just Azriel and the female. She was surrounded by a group of what he assumed was her friends. As he watched her hips sway to the beat, he convinced himself he could do this. If not for his satisfaction, then for some sort of release.

Azriel made his way to the bar and ordered a drink. His eyes never left the female, and he could have sworn her eyes crossed his. A shiver of static ran down his spine at the brief eye contact. He wouldn’t leave without trying.

Another moment of eye contact had him clutching his drink tightly. He watched as the female smiled knowingly. He stood, his drink discarded and walked toward her. At this point, the female had moved away from her friends, and was now looking at him boldly with sweet, sultry look.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” the female said, her voice carrying over the music. Her voice wrapped around his brain like a mist, a hot, heavy mist that filled his veins with desire.

“I haven’t been in a while,” Azriel responded. His eyes drank the female in front of him in. She was much more beautiful up close.

“I must be lucky.” Azriel carefully watched the female’s tongue dart across her lips, moistening the chapped flesh. “Do you want to dance?”

Azriel found himself smiling, nodding subtly. His hands found purchase on her hips as they swayed to the rhythm of the song playing. Their bodies grazed each other as they moved, electricity buzzing between them with each touch. The female turned, and her luscious ass found place against him. His cock twitched at the intimate contact. He internally groaned. It had been too long since he was able to do this. His hands roamed from the female’s waist to her abdomen against the silky fabric of her dress. His fingers traced the area just below her navel, where there should be an extra bump of fabric clothing her sex. He found none, and nearly had to bite his tongue to control the sudden impulse to take her in front of everyone.

“Let’s get out of here,” Azriel found himself saying, his lips brushing against the shell of the female’s ear. “To the alley.”

The female in his arms nodded her head and started for the alley. Azriel was close behind her, his hands never leaving her hips. His cocked twitched in his pants from anticipation. Just a few more steps, a rounded corner and he’d be buried to the hilt within this unnamed female. Should it have bothered him that he cared more about what her sex felt like than what her name was? It should, he concluded, but he needed this. He supposed he could find out the female’s name quickly. At least to not treat her entirely like walking release.

The brisk autumn air kissed Azriel’s face as they finally reached the alley. Within seconds, he had the female against the wall, lips against hers with a devouring fever. The female returned the kiss, her back arching off the wall of Rita’s. His blood bubbled under his skin, and kissing her wasn’t enough. Running his hands over her breasts wasn’t enough. He thought he’d be able to play with her a bit, feel out her sex. But he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to wait.

Azriel shoved a hand down his leathers and freed his cock. The autumn breeze felt soothing against the heated flesh, and he pumped himself once, then twice. He pushed the female’s dress up her thighs enough to reveal her dripping sex. He licked his lips and rest the tip of his cock against her entrance. He groaned softly with the contact.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his breath low and husky.

The female nodded, hips wiggling for more friction. “I didn’t get your name,” she breathed, her fingertips digging into his shoulders.

He pushed himself inside her, moaning as her puffy walls embraced his length. “Azriel,” he ground out. He snapped his hips against hers and relished at the lewd sound it made. His arms tensed, his fingers digging into the fleshy part of her hips. “Yours?”

“Y/N.” Her voice was breathy, broken up by moans. She felt so good around him, so – right.

His thrusts became rougher, deeper and his mind couldn’t form a coherent thought. She tightened around him like a vise as her moans became louder and higher. His name left her lips in an utterance, like a prayer. The sound of the way she moaned his name sounded like pure bliss. Azriel found himself too close to the edge too soon, but so did this beautiful female. Within a few more strokes, she was a moaning mess underneath him. Her fingernails grazed against the base of his wings, and Azriel came with a loud moan.

Azriel stood there for some time, forehead leaning against her shoulder and breathing heavily. His grip loosened against her hips, but still held her firm enough to keep her held up. A sudden shame filled Azriel. He didn’t intend to finish that quickly, but at least she finished, too.

He raised his head, eyes meeting hers and smiled softly. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “For the, uh, quick finish.”

He watched as a dazzling smile crossed Y/N’s features. “I think mine was a bit quicker than yours,” she responded. Her hands ran gently along his shoulders and biceps. “Maybe we can do this again? For a little longer?”

Azriel smiled, and nodded before he could logically think. Some release every now and then wouldn’t be too bad, especially if he were being micromanaged around Elain.

“Maybe we can go back to my place?” she suggested shyly. Her hips rolled against his gently as an indicator to what she meant. Azriel didn’t have to think logically to answer her question this time.

#a court of thorns and roses #a court of thorns and roses smut #a court of thorns and roses imagine #a court of thorns and roses drabble #azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel imagine #azriel drabble #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel x you #acotar #acotar fic #acotar azriel #violette-hue #fated

728 notes · View notes

luveline · 7 months

Note

jadey - HONEY - listenlistenlisten, so I feel like you said you'd write for hopper?? but if not (because he's not on the official list) please ignore this request! BUT would you be able to write something about hopper visiting reader in the hospital after she was almost posessed by vecna?? whether this is still early stages of relationship or already established, you pick, gorgeous!! (also ik this means no hopper/joyce but personally I prefer hopper/me??) xoxoxo BIG SMOOCHES

ty for your request, love u! ♡

Nobody would ever believe you, but you know it's Hopper from the smell. You've missed him for months, and though the scent of him wore away from his sweatshirt before you thought you had time to memorise it, you know without opening your eyes that it's him sitting beside you.

Your heart monitor beeps loud and erratic.

"Don't," he says quietly. "Don't freak out."

It won't listen to him, how could it? Not even the oily fog of painkillers can dull the reality of him being here, right here, this close.

"You're supposed to be dead," you croak, peeling your eyes open achingly slowly.

"Aren't you a little old for teen angst?" he asks.

He's real. He's real, you're exhausted, you almost died, but he's alive. Tears well in your eyes of their own accord, not a lick of choice in it as Hopper takes your arm into his hand.

"You look sick," you say tearily.

"Nice. You look worse."

"Where's your," —you gesture to his body— "everything?"

He's lost a dramatic amount of weight, hollows sunk under his eyes. He grins despite your insult and leans back in his chair, hand sliding down toward yours, fingers pushing between your knuckles to twine them together firmly. "Russian weight loss program. Like it?"

You're honestly not sure. Maybe when the shock has worn off you'll feel strongly either way, but right now it's his obvious alive-ness that takes centre focus.

"I missed you," you say. You've not even a syllable into 'missed' when your voice disappears, the agony of your admission knocking the air from your lungs in one callous blow. "I missed you so much."

He squeezes your hand. "I know. I'm sorry."

You start to sit. Hopper stands and slips his hands behind your shoulders, helping you up with a tenderness you've dreamt about every night since he disappeared. There was no time to define what you were to one another, all these months you've been grieving a maybe, but you know the connection you had was more than real when he reaches down the millisecond you reach up. His lips smashed to your forehead and his big hands spread and searching like he's trying to stop you from falling away from him, you splutter as the air is knocked from your chest again.

"Sorry I wasn't here to look after you," he says.

He hugs you for so long you figure you must be dreaming. There's a familiarity to his embrace even if the feel of him has changed, security with a little less padding. "What happened to you?" you ask hesitantly.

"What happened to me? You just had something– someone in your head. You almost broke your neck, you could've died."

"I'm lucky. I am. It could've been worse." It was worse for others. Your voice wobbles embarrassingly. It doesn't put Hopper off. You used to worry that being younger than him would make you too different; you aren't a kid but you haven't lived a life as agonisingly detailed as he has. You're scared there won't be room in his head for your weight, too, but there always is. "You're back," you say, relieved.

"I'm back."

You breathe out.

"Let me see you," he demands, drawing away to check you over.

Your skin is clammy and has been for days, you weren't sleeping —sleeping meant dreaming. Hearing the toll. You've chased sleep with coffee and caffeine pills and bad TV, each day going a little more insane with wanting Hopper back. There were moments when you knew for sure he was dead, and moments you hated yourself for entertaining the idea. Whatever you deserved, he's here, wiping your sleep crusted eyes with a careful thumb.

"Well, you're still a sight for sore eyes."

"Yeah?" you ask, laughing until you cough. "I look good in the gown, right?"

"Better out of it," he suggests, kissing the top of your head. He lingers there too long. You can read his mind for that single moment.

He's not happy with himself for letting you face it alone. Which begs the question. What kept him away?

"Hop, where have you been?" you ask gently.

"I'll tell you everything after you eat something."

"Me?"

"I almost forgot how rude you are," he says, rubbing your cheek fondly. "Shit. Like I could forget a thing about you."

You take his hand from your face to clear a path. "That's romantic. Hit your head while you were gone?" He nods, hangs his head, lets you cover the back of it with your hands. You pull him forward, searching for hair he doesn't have. "What did they do to you?" you murmur sadly.

"Don't say that. The neck up is as good as it gets."

"I don't believe that for a second," you say, though you worry about what he means. "You better go find me something to eat. I want to know everything that's happened."

"Got a waiting room full of people who aren't gonna like that," he says, lifting his head.

"I really, truly don't care," you say, still so softly. "I've been waiting to see you again for a long time. They can… they can walk a mile in my shoes."

"Whatever you want." Hopper clasps your elbow. "Anything you want."

#hopper x reader #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x fem!reader #dad!jim hopper #dad!jim hopper x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #jim hopper fanfiction #jim hopper fandom #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #jim hopper fluff

473 notes · View notes

queerstudiesnatural · 1 year

Text

i think it would be so funny if sam and cas started saying i love you before dean and cas did.

sam is on the phone with cas in the bunker and they're on speakerphone because dean is also there and they are talking about a case. when they hang up sam says alright thanks cas, love you. and cas says i love you too, sam, and they hang up and sam goes to get up and go do something else, but he catches dean staring at him and is like what. dean is like "so um." clears his throat. "so that's a thing you guys say now?" and sam is like "what thing." because he's been saying i love you to cas for months or years so he barely registers it anymore. and dean is looking at him like he just announced he was retiring to become a stand up comedian and says, "you just said i love you. to cas. you guys. you guys said. do you-- i mean. you said i love you to cas. i didn't imagine that, did i?" and sam is like "oh yeah well. i love him. he's my friend. i love you is a thing friends say to each other." and dean stares harder and says, "i've never heard you say i love you to anyone. you've barely said it to me." and sam is like "yeah well we're not exactly like that, are we. you've never said it to me, either. but cas-- well, cas is my best friend, you know? and i do love him. so why shouldn't i say it?" when dean still looks unconvinced, he adds, "hey, you said i love you to charlie, right? well, cas is my charlie". that seems to get dean's brain working. "okay. okay, so, you guys are like. best friends. but i thought i was his best friend." "well dean, i don't know what to tell you. if you wanna tell cas you lo-" but dean cuts him off to ask, suddenly, "wait, is cas gay?" and sam is like what. and dean is like "you said he was like charlie." and sam says, exasperated, "dean, that's not what i meant. charlie was more than that, and so is cas. i just meant that i love him like you loved charlie." dean doesn't seem to be listening though, and he deadpans again, "so, is cas gay?" sam is so confused by the direction the conversation has taken and he's like "i don't know, dean, maybe. i-- i don't know, it's none of my business." that seems to set something off in dean though, and he gets up abruptly with a see ya sam and strides off to his room.

once there he sits on his bed, closes his eyes and says, cas, get in here. i need to talk to you, it's urgent. he's not surprised when cas appears out of thin air to his left. he doesn't even flinch. instead he stands up to face cas.

"you said i love you to sam," dean says. no hello, no thanks for dropping by. "earlier, on the phone. you guys said i love you."

"i... yes? i do love your brother." cas seems appropriately confused, but dean doesn't care.

"ok. ok. is sam your best friend?"

"dean, you said this was urgent."

"it is urgent. is sam your best friend?"

"i-- i don't know. he is a good friend."

"because i thought i was your best friend."

"i don't know, dean," cas says, exasperated. "i like you both. you are both my best friends."

"but you love sam. you just said. oh and by the way, i just had a talk with sam, and he loves you as a friend."

"i know that, dean."

"so if we're both your best friends--which is bullshit by the way. sam isn't the one who watches movies with you and stays up talking with you and has that... bond, or whatever, with you. but, if we're both your best friends. then do you love me?"

cas opens and closes his mouth, furrows his eyes, then finally says, "yes, dean."

"okay, well that didn't sound very convincing. do you love me? cause i love you."

cas' eyes widen a bit at that, then he smiles a tiny smile in the corner of his mouth and says, "i love you too, dean."

"okay. good. glad we cleared that up."

there's a pause in which dean keeps picking at his fingernails and worrying at his lip, cas awkwardly waiting for a sign that the conversation is over. dean decides that it's not over.

"i love you more than sam does," he blurts out, searching cas' eyes for... something. "he said he loves you like i loved charlie. i don't love you like charlie."

"oh," is all cas says.

"i love you like. like. like ren and stimpy. like mulder and scully. like butter and bread.

"oh," is all cas says again.

they stare at each other for about half a minute, then dean says, "ok. good talk."

and cas says, "i have to go. i was doing research in a private library in marrakesh."

"right. you should get back to that."

there's a flutter of wings and cas is gone.

they haven't cleared anything up, not really, but when they hang up the phone now, dean says i love you, and cas says, like butter and bread.

#rain posts #ficlet #rain.writing #destiel #supernatural #spn

2K notes · View notes

tkaulitzlvr · 8 months

Note

Plz write about reader accidentally kissing someone else. Thanks in advance!

MISTAKE - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: a fan puts you in an awkward situation, tom getting the complete wrong idea, putting a divide between the two of you as you try to explain yourself, tom thinking of a different way to resolve this.

content: angst, angry sex, tom being rough, a little fluff at the end.

a/n: thank you for the request i hope u like it, i had sm fun writing this!! sorry it’s so long i got carried away…😭😭

“oh my god i love you so much!” another fan says, tears streaming down her face as i sign her autograph, sending her a warm smile and moving onto the next.

tom isn’t too far behind me, signing other fans autographs and taking pictures with the rest of the band, this being the standard before and after every event. we had just wrapped up the 2008 EMAs, getting ready to leave, not before acknowledging his fans. with me being his long term girlfriend, aside from the occasional fan who would hate on me purely out of spite, i had become quite popular amongst his fanbase, signing autographs and interacting with them turning into a regular occurrence, but i didn’t mind it. these people had given tom the success he has, and i couldnt thank them enough, taking pictures and speaking with them, even if it is only for a few seconds, being the least i could do.

and to say that tom likes how much his fans adore me is an understatement. he treats me like his prized possession, his face beaming with pride as i speak with every fan i can, occasionally turning around to see him smiling back at me, so much love in his eyes that my heart could melt at the sight. he wore two headbands, one black and the other grey, his long dreads tied up in a ponytail, losing his usual flat cap and opting for a dark brown t-shirt that read ‘tokio hotel’.

i however, wore a long black dress, the bottom split at one side, the material hugging my figure perfectly, paired with some black heels, my hair straightened and makeup caked on, excessive amounts of jewellery around my body. i was surprised tom hadn’t made any moves on me the whole night, the public eye never really stopping the PDA from him. he didn’t shy away from telling me how beautiful i looked before we arrived, promising that he would show me once we were back at the hotel room, and i knew exactly what that would entail, the details better left unsaid.

my body begins to feel slightly tired after being at the award show for hours, the amount of fans that i’m yet to speak to not going down. i approach the next one, already a little weirded out. he looks around my age, maybe a few years older, a strange smirk on his face as his eyes rake down my body, undressing me with his gaze. i already feel uncomfortable, unsure of what to say as his eyes stop at my cleavage, not even uttering a word.

“hey! how are you, is there anything that you want me to sign?” i eventually say, the guy quickly looking upwards, as if he hadn’t been checking out every inch of my body seconds before.

“can i get a picture?” he says simply, his tongue poking out as he slowly licks his lips, not breaking eye contact with me.

my insides are churning, the thought of him checking me out making me want to throw up, internally praying that tom could be beside me right now. i quickly look over, seeing him too immersed in signing fans autographs to glance in my direction, the high pitched sound of girls screaming his name leaving him a little distracted from me, understandably. i plaster a forced smile on my face, trying to be done with this guy as soon as possible so i can move away from him, already feeling super on edge.

“of course!” i say, moving closer to the barricade as he pulls out his phone.

he moves his hand, reaching it outwards as i assume he is going to put a friendly arm around my shoulder, not minding this as it’s something a lot of fans do. instead, his hand stretches towards my face, turning it so that it is facing him instead of the camera like it previously was, placing a kiss onto my lips before i can even register what is happening.

the second that i process another person’s lips are touching mine, a person that isn’t tom, i frantically pull away, my breathing fast and heavy as i quickly turn to face tom. he is already looking at me, having just witnessed the entire thing from a few metres away. he is pissed. his jaw clenched, eyes hooded, chest heaving up and down as he completely ignores the girls shoving paper and pens at him, begging for an autograph.

i ignore the guy, knowing that if i speak my mind to him in this moment, i’ll deal with a pretty big scandal. instead, i rush over to tom, tears clouding my vision, trying to push them back as i force a smile, walking over as he steps back from the fans, facing away from the crowd.

“we’re gonna talk about this once we get back. don’t think that you’re getting off the hook, what the actual fuck?” he whispers, his teeth gritted. “now you’re gonna act like everything is fine until this whole thing is over, yeah?”

“but tom i-” i begin, desperately trying to explain myself.

“i don’t wanna fucking hear it. you’ve done enough, don’t you think? now smile.” he mutters, quickly turning back around to the crowd, wrapping his arm around my waist and planting a kiss onto my cheek as if nothing has happened.

the fans go wild, screaming loudly, the paparazzi loving this, knowing that pictures of tom and i are something that the world goes literally crazy for. flashing lights blind my vision as i try to blink the tears away, doing so successfully, putting my emotions aside for the sake of tom’s career, desperate to get out of here so that i can explain myself, tom clearly getting the wrong idea.

“kiss her properly tom!” someone within the crowd of paparazzi shouts, tom flashing them all a smile, pecking my lips as the cameras go wild, taking advantage of the opportunity. i can tell that he is pissed from the way his lips touch mine, his hand around my waist, the other hanging loosely by his side, no love in the kiss. but he doesn’t let anyone else see that. to anybody else, it would look completely normal, like a couple with no problems, not as if tom had witnessed me kiss another guy with zero context. his hand grasps mine, interlocking our fingers, taking me over to an interviewer beckoning us over, this the part i am dreading most.

she smiles warmly at us, speaking into the microphone, tom still holding my hand, squeezing it slightly, this not to comfort me, but to remind me to act normal.

“so guys, how are you both? and, congratulations to you, tom, and the rest of tokio hotel for winning an award tonight!” she says, pointing the microphone to tom as he smiles before speaking into it.

“we’re doing great. it feels so crazy to win another award with the band, we couldn’t have done it without our fans, so thank you, all of you.” he says, smiling warmly at the camera as the interviewer takes the mic back.

“and, as tom’s girlfriend, how does it feel to be here with him tonight, and, i’m guessing there’s gonna be big celebrations later on!” she laughs, winking at me when saying the last part.

“yeah, it’s amazing. i feel so honoured to be here with him and the rest of the band tonight, i’m just so proud of how far he’s come, and i’m so thankful to be on this journey with him.” i nod, smiling and looking into his eyes as convincingly as i can, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

tom leans into the mic, the interviewer pointing it in his direction. “and to answer the second part of your question, i don’t think we’re gonna be doing much sleeping tonight.” he smirks, winking in my direction as i laugh lightly, smacking his arm and rolling my eyes playfully.

as angry at he is right now, he is good at not showing it as even i question if he is acting anymore, his affection so natural that it doesn’t seem forced.

the interview drags on for at least another ten minutes, asking questions about our relationship, to which we answer the best we can, appearing to convince the interviewer and crowd pretty well. she ends it by thanking us, wishing us a great night as we walk away, big smiles plastered on our faces as we head to take more pictures, paparazzi again demanding us to be as intimate as we can, tom and i obliging, followed by more interviews.

“tom can you please just listen to me-”

“i don’t want to hear it, just get in the car.” he says, opening the door for me and climbing in, sitting silently with his arms crossed as the car falls silent, the driver taking us to the hotel room.

the entire ride home is silent, tom completely ignoring me as he won’t touch or even look at me, his head resting on the window, jaw clenched and his entire expression angry. i try to hold his hand, moving my fingers and attempting to intertwine them with his, but he shrugs them off, refusing to say a word.

we stop outside the hotel, the driver opening the door for us as we both say our thanks, stepping out of the car. tom walks ahead, not waiting for me as i struggle to keep up, only catching up once he buzzes for the elevator, both of us stepping inside, tom standing on the other side, looking downwards at his feet and refusing to make eye contact with me.

“baby please just let me talk, i can explain.” i plead, my voice a little shaky, slightly scared of his ability to so naturally act like he is in love with me in front of the cameras, but once we are alone, he can turn from caring to cold in seconds.

“what, you can explain kissing another guy right in front of me? can you fucking hear yourself?” he scoffs, tutting as the elevator opens. his hands are in his pockets as he lifts his body up from where it was slouched against the wall of the elevator, walking ahead of me once again, using his key card and entering the hotel room, finding the rest of the band already there. they had left earlier than us, already finished with their interviews as the band had done their collective ones earlier on, tom and i only needing to stay to do our separate ones.

“hey guys.” tom says, saying nothing more as he walks into our shared bedroom.

bill furrows his eyebrows in confusion, and i send him a small smile, mouthing ‘i’ll explain later’, before following where tom had gone. the bedroom is dark, tom not in there, but the balcony doors are open. i can make out his figure through the darkness, smoke coming from his mouth as i look towards the lit cigarette in his hands, hesitantly joining him on the balcony which overlooks the city.

he takes a quick glance at me, looking forwards and ignoring me as he had since the incident had happened.

“you gonna keep ignoring me? or can i explain?” i ask, trying to stand a little closer to him, testing what my boundaries are.

“nothing for you to explain.” he mutters, bringing the cig to his lips, inhaling and watching the smoke exit his mouth.

the cold breeze of the night causes me to shiver a little, my strapless dress not helping me out as i rub my hands up and down my arms in an attempt to warm myself up.

“i didn’t fucking kiss him. jesus christ do you think i’m some slut who can’t contain myself? i haven’t cheated on you throughout our whole relationship, tom, and i definitely wouldn’t do it in public like that.” i sigh, the tears already beginning to form in my eyes as i can see that he isn’t in any position to hear me out, his mind already set on what he thinks he has witnessed.

“what so i was fucking hallucinating when i saw him kiss you?” he scoffs sarcastically, putting his cig out and looking into my eyes for the first time, his full of rage, a lit fuse ready to blow. he shakes his head when i stay silent, walking back into the bedroom.

i don’t give up yet, quickly following him into the room.

“he asked for a picture. i wasn’t even looking at him, i was looking into his camera. he grabbed my face and kissed me. he forced me onto him, and i pulled away. so can you stop being so fucking stubborn, ‘cause i’m tired of this shit. i shouldn’t feel bad when you’re too childish to hear me out! so fucking grow a pair and-”

my heated rambling is quickly cut off my tom firmly pressing his lips against mine, walking me backwards until my back harshly collides with the wall, a gasp leaving my mouth as i do so.

“fucking shut up.” he mumbles against my lips, his hand reaching behind me as he quickly pulls the zipper of my dress down, pushing his tongue into my mouth and kissing me with so much hunger that it is hard to remember why we were even arguing in the first place.

but the harshness of his kiss tells me that he is still irritated, taking out his anger on me in the best way possible, his hands reaching for the top of my dress, pulling it down my frame without removing his lips from mine, letting it hit the floor, leaving me in only my black lace panties.

he moves his hands to underneath my thighs, lifting them up in one smooth motion, wrapping them tightly around his waist as he walks us to the bed, his tongue still exploring my mouth, only fuelling the need to feel him inside me, the burning in between my thighs getting harder and harder to ignore.

he lays me on the bed, wasting no time in climbing on top of me, my hands scrambling to removing his t-shirt, lifting the material up and over his head. he moves his knee in between my thighs as he unbuckles his belt, the hunger mixed with pure lust causing me to grind on him, brushing perfectly against my clit as i sigh out in pleasure. tom has his tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth, almost mocking my desperation.

“getting off on my knee, you’re that needy? baby you need to use your words. i’ll give you what you want, you just need to say the word.” he teases, pulling his pants down and throwing them somewhere on the floor, leaving him in just his boxers, our underwear now the only thing separating us.

he climbs back on top of me, moving his knee as i whine slightly, a little frustrated at the loss of contact. he buries his head in the crook of my neck, biting at the skin harshly, soothing the slight pain with his tongue after, sending a chill down my body, my breathing becoming erratic as he begins to grind down on me, knowing exactly how to tease me.

“you know what you want.” he whispers against the skin of my neck, before carrying on placing slow and wet kisses there, knowing he will leave marks afterwards. “just say it. say what you want.”

i feel him smile against me, enjoying the way i wither beneath him, completely at his mercy, so desperate to feel his dick inside me.

“i need you…inside me.” i breathe out, my fingers moving to the inside of his boxers, fiddling with the waistband as i just want them off, tired of his teasing.

“was that so hard?” he asks, kissing me roughly as he moves my hands away, tugging his boxers down and moving to my panties, pulling his lips away from me and using his teeth to pull them down a little, loving the way my breath hitches in my throat when he does this. he replaces his mouth with his hands, swiftly taking my panties off, leaving us both naked.

“don’t think i’m going easy on you. i’m still pissed about earlier.” he begins, positioning his tip at my entrance. “i just knew i’d be able to get you all worked up doing this.”

he stops, looking into my eyes as our faces are inches apart, before moving into me, stretching my walls as he gives me no time to adjust, bottoming out inside me and almost completely pulling out, snapping his hips once again.

“fuck- too much.” i whine, the pain overtaking the pleasure as i squeeze his bicep, my eyes watering as my teeth sink into my bottom lip.

“i thought you wanted this.” he taunts, slowly moving out of me again, before thrusting into me again, a restrained groan escaping his mouth. “can you not take it, hm?”

all i can do is moan in response, trying to caress his chest as he begins a fast rhythm, showing no remorse as he moves in and out of me at a rapid pace.

“mm, no touching.” he says, taking both my arms and placing them above my head, using one hand to hold them in place, whilst the other begins to toy with my clit, the pain quickly subsiding as i am lost in pure ecstasy.

his tip brushes over my g-spot, a loud moan emitting from my parted lips, my eyes screwing shut, unable to take the pleasure as it hits me faster than ever.

“oh my god, there…right there, please tom!” i cry out, biting my lip to try and contain my moans, remembering that the rest of the band are right down the hall, not wanting them to hear any of this.

“here?” he teases, angling himself so that he isn’t just brushing over the spot, his tip is directly hitting it over and over again, my release fast approaching.

“that guy…” he begins, pressing his hand on my lower stomach, the print of his dick moving in and out of me now visible. “he couldn’t fuck you like this. only i can, mhm? say it.”

i am so lost in pleasure that i don’t even register what he is saying, my eyes rolling to the back of my head, legs going numb as they instinctively wrap around his waist, bringing him closer into me, allowing him to drill into me even deeper with each thrust, hitting angles that i had never felt before. i don’t comprehend his words until i feel his thumb touch my bottom lip, dragging downwards until it releases with a pop.

“fucking say it.” he demands, grunting lowly and moving in and out of me even harder, my legs feeling a dull ache between them as the knot in my stomach only tightens, my release fast approaching.

“only- fuck! only you can do this.” i manage to breathe out, my words so incoherent that they can barely be made out, so lost in pleasure that i am beyond the point of caring.

“i’m close baby.” tom says, connecting his lips with mine once again, our mouths sloppily colliding as small moans are muffled within the kiss. i can’t even tell him that i am close too, but the way i clench around him gives him enough of an idea.

his dick twitches inside of me as he pulls away, his mouth hanging open whilst his head falls back, a choked moan escaping his mouth as i feel his cum coat my walls, this triggering my own release. my ability to speak is quickly lost, a high pitched moan leaving my mouth as i let my release take over, my vision clouding up as the pleasure becomes too much, tom clearly not looking to stop as he chases another release, my eyes squeezing shut as i quickly become overstimulated.

“too much…” i whine. “cant take it.”

“should’ve thought about that before you let me catch another guy kissing you. i’m not stopping till you fucking understand only i can do that.” he replies, flipping us over so that i am on top.

“ride.” he says, placing his hands on my hips as mine rest on his shoulders, his lips moving to my collarbone.

“i can’t.” i sigh, tears clouding my vision as i fall onto him, completely exhausted. my legs ache, my inner thighs sore from him not letting me adjust, my throat dry from the sounds he made leave my mouth.

he sighs, guilt taking over his expression as he begins to feel a little bad, his hands reaching to rub my back.

“you did so good schatz.” he says, pulling out of me as i whine from the loss of contact, my body hot, forehead glistening with sweat. “you okay? did i go too hard. sorry, i was just angry, if i took it too far you have to-”

i cut him off by gently pecking his lips, reassuring him. “it’s fine, tom, i’m okay. i’m really sorry about tonight.”

“it wasn’t your fault. sorry i was such an ass about it.” he apologises, tracing random shapes along my back. “i think it’s best i don’t leave your side in public from now on, yeah? i swear to god if i see that asshole again-”

“don’t worry about it, it’s okay now.” i laugh, taking his hand and playing with his fingers, my breathing slowing down. “i don’t think he’ll be coming to anymore events that we’re at, you should’ve seen how humiliated he was when i pulled away. fucking loser, i don’t understand what else he wanted me to do.”

he chuckles slightly, tightening his hold on me and planting a soft kiss on my forehead. “let’s get you cleaned up.”

he takes my hand, laughing at the way my legs shake as i struggle to walk, taking me towards the bathroom and running me a bath, showering me with kisses for the rest of the night.

requests are open! please keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz smut #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz angst #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #tomkaulitz #bill kaulitz

627 notes · View notes

shadowandlightt · 2 months

Text

Of Nightmares and Memories /six/ Azriel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

You toss and turn in your bed, unable to sleep. It seems like no matter how many tonics you tried taking, none of them are going to do their job. Not with Rhys back in the Court of Nightmares with your father, Cassian and Azriel with them as well.

It always made you anxious when they were away from Valaris, no matter where they were. You knew no one would dare touch them in the Court of Nightmares, but you also knew the roles they had to play. And how taxing it was on all three of your boys.

Rustling in the hall made you sit up. The house was quiet, no one else was here aside from your mother, who was most likely fast asleep and not pacing outside of your door. Carefully, you got out of bed and reached for the dagger on your nightstand, it had been a gift from Az for your last birthday.

You weren’t sure what you expected when you opened your door, but it wasn’t Az pacing back and forth like he did before he entered your father’s office.

“Az?” You question, causing him to pause, “What are you doing out here? Aren’t you meant to be-”

He rushes forward, grabbing your face in his hands before crashing his lips against yours. You’re taken back for a moment, because he’d never been so forceful with you before. All of his touches were always light and gentle as if he was afraid you might break. But never this…hunger.

“Az-”

“I flew straight here after we were dismissed,” He says against your lips, “I had to see you.”

You rub your hands down his arms, trying to calm him, “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere Az.”

“The things those vile men said-”

“They always say things,” You can feel your eyes rolling.

“I wanted to kill them. I should’ve.”

“Shh,” You whisper, pulling him into your room and shutting the door, “I’m perfectly fine. They can’t so much as put a finger on me. I’m untouchable, remember?”

His hands wander down your body, “You’re far from untouchable.”

“Maybe to you.”

He smirks and Cauldron it’s a beautiful sight. You would do anything to see him smirk or smile all of the time. And Mother when he laughs, it's your undoing. But when he sings, and he does for you, you lose all control.

“I love being able to touch you,” He said gruffly.

“I love that you love touching me,” You somehow challenge him with the simple sentence.

Your nightgown leaves little to the imagination as you back away from him towards the bed. You eye him for a moment before holding a hand out in a silent invitation. Maybe not for sex, because you’d never had sex with anyone before, let alone Azriel. But for something else, something far more intimate. Because he hardly slept, let alone with anyone else besides you.

He toes off his boots and undoes the straps to his various sheaths along his body. You know the look in his eyes. The adrenaline is wearing off and he’s starting to crash. You know he’ll likely be asleep before his head even really hits the pillow. And that’s okay, because you love that he feels so safe with you.

“I have to leave before the sun is up,” He warns you.

“I know,” You tug at his hand again, “Just for the night.”

He swallows hard. You aren’t sure how much restraint it takes for him to do this with you, because every time he seems to battle with himself. Yet, he does it anyway. He always seems to find his way back to your bed.

“I wish I could have the mornings too,” he whispers to you.

You nuzzle against him and pull him down onto the bed, tangling your legs with his before pulling the covers over both of you. You try to blink away the tears before they fall, because you wish you could have every night and every morning with him. Not just the stolen moments you’ve become so accustomed to. You’re tired of sneaking around Valaris just to have a moment with him. Sure your brother and Cas know, because they’re both nosy busy bodies, but if your father ever found out he would have Azriel killed on sight. Precious Shadowsinger or not.

“Hush now,” You tell him softly, “We have what we have. And I thank the Mother for it everyday.”

It’s his turn to nuzzle against you. He kisses your neck before snuggling down into your bed, pulling you on top of him. Your whole body relaxes against him. Because this feels like the most natural thing in the world to you. As if nothing else mattered but him and you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask him quietly.

“Not particularly,” he replies with equal softness, “I hate having to go to that place. I’m just thankful you were spared this time.”

“It’s all over now,” You assure him, “Get some sleep. I have no doubt there will be plenty for you to do within the coming days.”

“He’s sending us back to the camps,” He tells you, voice turning cold.

Your body goes rigid, because you know how much Azirel hates the camps. They all hate them, but Az and Cas especially. You know there’s nothing you can do to stop it, nothing you can do to change your fathers mind. So instead you hold Az even tighter, kissing along his jaw before reaching his lips.

You kiss him slowly, pouring every ounce of love you feel into it. You haven’t uttered those words to him, but you feel them. So deeply in your chest it nearly hurts. You’re alive with it. As if your love is a living breathing thing that somehow connects the two of you. You revel in it. Because you know that somehow he feels the same way.

You feel it in every touch. Every kiss. Every stolen moment with him.

“Sleep now,” You whisper to him.

Sleep now my love.

“I hate I won’t be here when you wake,” he kisses the top of your head.

“One day,” you promise him, “One day we’ll be free to do as we wish.”

Only that day never came. Because two weeks later you were taken by Tamlin and his brothers. You watched as they cleaved your mother’s wings from her body, and then, only once she was screaming and bleeding out, begging for your life instead of hers, did they remove her head and put her out of her misery. She never knew that you were spared. But not spared in every way.

They knew you possessed wings too, one of Tamlin’s brothers, the more brutish of them, probably the one next in line to be High Lord, decided to slice into your back for them. As if you had them hidden just behind your skin. You screamed for hours as they flayed your back open.

Tamlin crudely healed you before they brought you back to the manor house. The glamor Tamlin himself put on you and your rooms were too strong for Rhys to see through. Or maybe he was too preoccupied with killing Tamlin’s father to see through it. Either way, he left without you, which he never would have done had he known you were there.

Outside, people were gathered for the wedding. Feyre and Tamlin’s wedding. The thought made you want to get sick. You couldn’t imagine her, the wild human who went charging under the mountain, being stuck here to be nothing more than a broodmare. She was already withering away.

Her wrenching woke you up nightly, although you never heard Tamlin move a muscle. You could gut him for what he was doing to that poor girl. She was slowly suffocating here. You might die here in the Spring Court, but you’d be damned if you let Feyre die here too.

Ianthe, the bitch herself, reemerged for the wedding. You hoped you’d seen the last of her years ago, when Tamlin turned her down the last time. But it seemed she found a way to weave her way back into Spring. Anothing thing to make you sick.

You watch, eyes wide as Feyre appears, looking like the ridiculously frilly dolls you had as a small child. The aisle is laden with red rose petals, despite the fact you heard Feyre beg for no red anywhere near the day. You wondered if she looked at it and saw blood.

She takes one step, and then another, but never makes it to the dais where Tamlin is waiting with an open hand. Ianthe is trying to coax her towards them. Saying ridiculous things that make you grind your teeth together.

But Feyre is not moving. You can’t see her face, but you can feel her panic. The sheer panic that’s ripping through her as easily as that damned wyrm would have Under The Mountain. You wish you could leave the room and help her, take her anywhere but here, but you’re stuck. Bound to stay in the room thanks to warding Tamlin set upon it days ago. He claimed it was to keep you out of trouble, but really it was to save his own skin. There are too many people from too many courts, if one of them was to see you, and mention something to Rhys, Tamlin would be dead.

You can almost hear Feyre praying for someone to help her, before a thunderous crack shakes the very earth. Darkness pools just feet from Feyre and your brother steps out from it. You loosen a breath you weren’t even sure you were holding. He could take her away, even if just for a week, but the wedding wouldn’t go through. Feyre would be safe for a week. Well looked after under Rhys’ supervision, maybe she would even eat something while she was there.

He would take her to the Moonstone Palace, above the Court of Nightmares, it was the safest place for her. It wouldn’t reveal too much about the court, and wouldn't show her anything of importance. But most importantly, it would keep her above ground, where she could breathe.

Even with your fae hearing, you couldn’t hear what Rhys was saying. Your hands were pressed to the glass, begging for him to somehow see you and bring you with him. But he reached for Feyre in one quick moment and they were gone.

It took Tamlin all of five minutes to storm into your rooms. You opened your mouth to say something smart and snarky, but the back of his hand collided with your face, sending you flying backwards.

A metallic taste fills your mouth as you fight the urge to spit the blood out. You push yourself up onto your hands, and look up. Tamlin is seething, angrier than you’d ever seen from him. And you pride yourself on being able to make him extremely angry. You’d forced those claws to come out more than once, made him explode several times over the hundreds of years that you’d been here. You were very proud of it. But this was new.

“I’ll kill the both of you,” He hissed.

“I’d like to see you try,” You laugh, blood coating your teeth from where your lip had split, “Killing me might be easy, thanks to how weak you like to keep me, but killing him? No, not even you could manage that, oh High Lord.”

“Even a High Lord can be killed,” He seethes.

“Perhaps, but even with your full power, you couldn’t kill Rhys. He would mist you before you got the chance,” You tell him, still grinning wildly, “But by all means, go ahead and kill me. My life was over the moment you stole me.”

“I saved you,” He moves back to hit you once more, “And for what? You’re nothing. Your own brother doesn’t care that you live. You stood in front of him and he didn’t even notice.”

You feel that blow harder than any physical blow he could have dealt you. Because it’s true, Rhys never noticed. He had three months since Amerantha had been killed, and he hasn’t come for you. Your escape plan hadn’t worked, because he hadn’t even noticed that you were right there in front of him. Have you changed so much?

“I think letting you live with the knowledge that he doesn't care is better than killing you outright,” It was Tamlin’s turn to laugh now, “His precious sister, the one he killed for, right under his nose the entire time. How pathetic.”

You make a wounded sort of noise.

“Yes, letting you live with that truth is far greater,” Tamlin seemed to agree with himself, “Let’s see how you do locked away until he returns Feyre to me.”

“One day Tamlin, I will help rip you limb from limb,” You promise, “One day.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Little Star,” He spits the old nickname at you.

Tag List

@historygeekqueen @saltedscotchcoffee @queerqueenlynn @wallacewillow0773638 @sstrohma @hnyclover @thelov3lybookworm @maddybraps @minnieoo @witchymomfrien @mariahoedt @one-big-fangirl @amara-moonlight @st0rmyt @annamariereads16 @hunterksmith @sleepylunarwolf @sh4nn @emryb @mikatanazaki

#acomaf #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #acotar fic #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger

253 notes · View notes

iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 11 days

Note

For full headcanons: What do you think a lazy day with the M6 would look like? Say that somehow MC and their love interest have a free day all to themselves to just relax.

The Arcana HCs: Lazy Days with M6

Julian

He's been looking forward to this. Did he tell you that he would try to sleep in? Maybe. Does he succeed? Unfortunately not

However, not needing to head straight out the door to the clinic means that you get to sleep in and wake up to the sight of your relaxed doctor leisurely sipping some coffee in bed next to you

As much as Julian savors the delights of domestic life, he's quick to get a little stir crazy. How about an outing together?

For a dramatically roguish nerd like him, an "outing" could mean getting dragged to a leech convention, watching a play, doing something legally not-so-recommended, or visiting a library

Either way, since the point of the day is to be lazy, he's more likely to want to head home come evening rather than stay out

Does he enjoy social time? Sure, but even more than that, he cherishes you. He can meet you for dinner at the tavern any day, but he doesn't get every evening completely free like this

Dinner is peaceful, intimate, and slower than usual because he insists on eating by candlelight which means not being able to see your plate very well

The way his eyes feast on you instead of the meal makes up for it

Asra

Nobody can match this magician when it comes to lazy days

They. Are. Sleeping. In. They aren't even going to think about getting up until the sun is high enough to fill the room with golden light and the street outside your window is bustling with activity

Even then, the tranquility stays. There's no part of the day when the pace picks up. He'll move with you slowly from the bed to the kitchen with a sleepy smile, prioritizing snuggles over cooking

And that's how the day goes - lazing from the cushions to the kitchen for more tea and snacks, trading silly stories and engaging in the occasional tickle/pillow fight between books

Asra will start at least one experimental craft, only to put it down halfway finished because focusing on you is way more enjoyable

Right around sunset, they'll need a change of scenery. That will most likely take the form of taking you by the hand and pulling you into their oasis for some prolonged snuggles and whimsy time

However, being predictably unpredictable, there is the 25% chance that he'll decide he doesn't want to keep a lazy pace all day after all, and pull you out into the darkening streets for an adventure

Either way, it ends back in bed, gazing out the window at the stars

Nadia

Oh, she needs this and she's been planning for it for weeks

Everything is set up ahead of time. All pressing matters have been dealt with, and she's delegated responsibilities so that unless the world starts to end, someone else will have to handle it

She is going to indulge in every relaxing moment she's been putting off and she's going to do it without lifting a finger and you are going to join her for every blissful moment

She rarely has time to sleep in and hold you, so she is taking her fill

Breakfast appears at the door to her chambers when she rings her bell, and after sitting you in her lap and taking turns feeding each other, she's drawing you into her private bath all set up for spa day

With her mind carefully blocked off of work, she'll turn her attentions to you. How have you been doing? What's been on your mind? Tell her something about you she hasn't heard yet ~

Since you can't spend all day in the spa, she does take a couple hours in the afternoon to herself in her tower. Your company is delightful and refreshing, but even she needs a moment alone

Dinner happens on the veranda, just the two of you in a nook hidden from view, lounging on cushions and savoring a slow night

Muriel

Lazy days ... kind of happen whenever one of you needs them to happen. Living self-sustainably in the woods has its perks

At the same time, there's some daily duties that just can't be skipped - feeding the chickens, drawing water, etc

Lazy days are what happens when one of you looks at the other of you and you both know you need a break. A day without all the added routine tasks, a day to just breathe for a little bit

Lazy days start by spending the day before getting ready to rest

Waking up is one quick trip to throw a bucket of feed at the chickens before darting back inside to warm up next to the veritable furnace that Muriel becomes under a blanket

Breakfast happens late, sitting by the fire instead of at the table, slicing the loaf of bread between you as you want more and toasting it idly while Inanna steals the crumbs

If it's a chilly, rainy day, you spend it adding logs to the fire from the pile you built up yesterday and curling up with each other under the furs. On sunny days, you might lie down outside

Maybe you talk, maybe you sleep, maybe you work on a craft - but it passes in peace and quiet and grounded, steadfast love

Portia

Does Portia need a lazy day? YES. Is Portia good at lazy days? Not. At. All.

Sometimes existing in Portia's presence means idly wondering if she subconsciously found the secret to perpetual motion and she's very busy trying not to forget it. She just never stops going!

Lazy days happen when you and the Countess gang up and make sure she has 24 hours of a clear schedule when she's on the verge of burning out and is in desperate need of a reset

The day starts by dragging her back into bed and telling her she's not allowed to make breakfast until she's slept as long as possible

Breakfast itself consists of trying to help her snap out of "work work work must get the next task done" mode while you brew some tea. The most effective way to do so is to put Pepi in her lap

After that, the day is delightful. Spending the rest of the morning and early afternoon lying on a picnic blanket in the garden, reading books and eating snacks and watching Pepi chase butterflies

The evening always involves visiting Mazelinka for family time. (It's also the best way to make sure Portia doesn't have to cook)

And nighttime - nighttime is for fireflies and pillow forts and kisses

Lucio

Lucio likes suggesting lazy days every day

Which means that, when the time does come to have one, the first word out of his mouth is "FINALLY."

He's been ready to take a slow day for weeks!! He needs this!!

Sleeping in is essential. If you try to get him out of bed before noon when there isn't a reason to he will start a riot

Went out the night before and maxed out his budget buying all the pastries on sale at the end of the day. Breakfast consists of him wolfing down sugary flaky dough at 1 PM, without leaving bed

He got them for you too - which is how you're presented with the sight of him beaming, shirtless, sitting in a ray of afternoon light with the sheets rumpled around him as he holds out a bite for you

The sugar high is enough to make him antsy. Yes, this is a lazy day, but lazy days are supposed to be enjoyable, and is a day even enjoyable if you haven't gone out to enjoy yourself?

Luxuriates in taking twice as much time to do his eyeliner

Saunters around the square of wherever you're visiting with your hand in his, pointedly ignoring the board of job requests

Stays up super late to savor every last moment of the day off

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

150 notes · View notes

formulapai · 5 months

Text

HOSPITAL TRIP

part of the BROTHER IN LAW series

scenario: she wasn’t hurt that bad, they were just over-exaggerating..

warning: hospital, vomit, falling down the stairs, minor concussion

pai’s words: it sounds really bad but it’s NOT I promise. also, my brothers call me “ma puce” quite often, which is a REALLY known nickname in France, and it literally translates to “my flea” and it’s ?? weird ?? so I translated it as “sweetie” to match the vibe ! ALSO I had a concussion once when I was younger because one of them pushed me into a wall while riding a bike, fun times 👍🏻

based on a true story (I broke my pinky and my brothers acted like I was on deathbed, calling my UNCLES to tell them all about it 💀💀💀)

“Bon Océ, tu fais quoi là?” (Océ, what are you doing?)

She hears her twin brother’s exasperated grumble as she finishes getting ready, fastening her new heels’ strap around her ankle.

“Roh ca va Thuthur, je suis prête!” (Cmon it’s fine Thuthur, I’m ready)

She excitedly runs out of her room and down the stairs, ready to go to the restaurant with her brother. They’re joining their mum and older brothers there for their weekly dinner. Or well, they should have been, but the night’s plan are forgotten as Arthur sees her sister tripping in the stairs and miserably falling down. She’s at the bottom of them when he finally unfreezes and rushes to her, screaming her name. The woman stays unmoving but awake for a few seconds, too stunned to comprehend what has happened.

“Oh putain, ça va ma puce ?” (Oh fuck, you alright sweetie?)

Océane snorts and holds a thumbs up, trying to get up but quickly realizing her mistakes. She groans as pain shoots up her spine and bangs around her head. Damn, maybe her fall was a little worse than she thought. Her brother holds her as she sits up and grits her teeth as the banging in her head grows stronger. He sees right through her game and shakes his head.

“Va sur le canapé, je les préviens qu’on va être en retard.” (Go sit on the couch, I’m telling them we’re going to be late)

She tries to do as he said but isn’t able to get far as her vision goes black and she slumps back on the ground in a frankly humiliating position that she KNOWS her brother would have made fun of her for if it was any other situation. Once her vision is back, she finally manages to get up towards the couch and lets herself fall on it with a sigh. She slowly looks over at whatever she can see of her body, noticing that nothing seems broken or even bruised and she thanks her lucky star for it. In the back of her mind, she pictures Pierre nagging at her for choosing the very own shoes he told her to be careful with. Of course she didn’t listen, and of course she should have. It’s a known fact she’s the clumsiest person ever.

“Bon, j’ai prévenu Maman, tu te sens comment?” (Alright, I’ve told mom, how are you feeling?)

He sits next to her and does a quick visual checkup, coming to the same conclusion as hers.

“Ca va, ca va, juste un peu mal à la tête.” (I’m fine, I’m fine, just a headache)

Arthur frowns at that, concern written on his face.

“T’es sûre que ca ira ? ‘Fin tu sais, ils nous disent toujours de faire gaffe à ca justement, les cervicales, tout ca..” (You sure it’s going to be fine ? I mean, they always tell us to be careful about this, cervical impact and all)

Océane snorts, of course he’s going to compare her fall to the extreme risks of his job. As if she’s that hurt. She shakes her head but quickly regrets it when buzzing fills her ears and she’s hit with a wave of nausea. Quickly getting up despite her state, the sister rushes to the bathroom and kneels in front of the toilet. Her head is so loud, her vision doesn’t seem to be working as she’d like, and in the midst of it all, she can still hear her twin’s voice as he rushes after her. He stops at the door and waits for her to finish, ready to help her if needed. He knows something is definitely wrong, she probable hit her head during the fall.

“Bon, je previens Maman que je t’emmene aux urgences” (Well, I’m telling mom I’m taking you to the ER)

The other twin spits the water she was gurgling and turns around, eyes wide and arms crossed.

“Non mais tu vas pas m’emmener aux urgences pour une chute ?” (You are so not taking me to the ER because I fell?)

Arthur stands his ground and levels her with a glare, his mind already made up. She scoffs as she goes back to the living room, taking her phone and seeing messages from her brothers and his boyfriend. She’s about to answer to some of them when her phone lights up with a call from Lorenzo that she’s quick to accept.

“Va à l’hopital ma puce” (Go to the hospital, sweetie)

“Tu vas pas t’y mettre aussi Enzo, c’est n’importe quoi” (Not you too Enzo, it’s bullshit)

“Non mais il a raison, ca peut etre grave ! Vaut mieux prévenir que guérir.” (But he’s right, it can be serious. Better be safe than sorry)

In the corner of her eyes, she sees Arthur smiling triumphantly as he listens to the conversation and already has her bag in his hands, ready to go.

“Mais Enzo, je suis juste tombée, je suis meme pas blessée !” (Cmon Enzo, I just fell, I’m not even hurt)

Océane hears shuffling on the other side of the phone and rolls her eyes as Charles comes to the phone.

“Océ ! Va au moins voir si tout va bien, je t’emmène à ton café préféré demain si t’y vas !” (Océ, at least go there to check if everything’s fine, I’m taking you to your favorite cafe if you do)

“Bon ok, mais si je me fais disputer par les infirmieres parce que je gache leur temps, je dis que c’est de votre faute !” (Fine, but if the nurses tell me off for wasting their time I’m telling them it’s because of you guys)

She faintly hears her mother laughing as she hangs up and turns to her brother, vision becoming blurry once again. She doesn’t pay any mind to it and gets up, walking towards the front door and towards his brother’s Ferrari. Dumb boys and their dumb obsession with the Italian cars. As soon as they’re on their way, her phone’s connected to the radio, yet another person calls her. She shakes her head and answers, the car radio coming alive.

“Mon ange, j’ai eu Charlo au telephone, c’est quoi cette histoire encore ? Tu vas bien ?” (My angel, Charlo called me, what’s this all about ? Are you okay ?)

Arthur snorts and decides to expose her and her damn shoes, how she fell and pretty much every details there is to know about it. She’s very tempted to take the steering wheel and crash the car.

“Bref, on va pas en faire tout un plat, je suis tombée et ils exagerent, comme d’habitude.” (Anyway, no need to blabber about it, I fell and they’re overreacting, as usual)

Pierre chuckles and stays on the phone with them until they arrive at the ER’s parking lot, making his girlfriend promise to keep him updated. Arthur leads them towards the desk, her dizziness returning once she’s out of the car, and explains the story to the nurse there, turning towards his twin to see if she needs to add something. Océane tells her symptoms, how she feels as if her head is going to explode, how she felt sparks shoot up her spine when she fell and the pin just stayed in her head after that. They wait for a few moments, the waiting room surprisingly empty. Her brother distracts her and launches into a monologue about whatever game he discovered with his friends the night before during a livestream. It’s not long before she’s called over, having a nurse do a simple checkup on her, shining a light in her eyes, taking her temperature, the basics. Only later, when a doctor enters the room to tell her the diagnostic, she softly laughs. The professional assures her that it was a good thing they insisted on having her come to the hospital and sends her off with a few instructions.

“Un trauma cranien, TRES leger!” (A concussion, a very minor one)

Arthur shoots up his seat and joins you towards the exit, blabbering about how they were so right, how she absolutely needs to rest and drink and acting as if she’s a one year old. The nail in the coffin is when he insists on calling her boyfriend to tell her he needs to come ASAP to take care of her because “it’s his job as your boyfriend !”. They argue all the way back to the apartment and even after they arrive, the twin brother insisting on having her laying in bed for the rest of the evening.

“Arthur, t’es saoulant là, sincerement” (Arthur, you’re annoying, sincerely)

But he’s gone before she can finish the sentence, so she grumpily settles on the bed and waits. Of course he took her phone, claiming that the screen was going to worsen the situation. Again, for a minor concussion. A simple minor concussion. She’s soon lost in her thoughts, not hearing when voices are suddenly coming from the entryway, not even noticing the soft knock on her door. She does notice her boyfriend’s very amused face as he looks down on her.

“Non mais je reve, dis moi qu’il t’a pas dit de venir ?” (I hope I’m dreaming and he didn’t tell you to come)

Pierre’s facade breaks and he cackles loudly, slapping his thigh. He proceeds to tell her everyone is downstairs, her brothers absolutely serious in their worry, her mother enjoying the chaos and laughing silently. Océane decides the best to do is ignore it all and lets her lover climbs into the bed with her, enjoying the butterfly kisses he leaves on her head.

#pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fluff #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 fluff #f1 imagine

379 notes · View notes

jazzsonly · 30 days

Text

౨ৎ blurb. ౨ৎ

ᴇᴠᴇʀʟᴏɴɢ

pairing(s): chad meeks-martin, mindy meeks-martin x fem!sibling!reader (x tara carpenter.)

warning(s): angst(?) mentions of reader being in fight, mentions of reader having a black eye, arguing, obviously blk!reader, shitty writing, typos—not proofread, mentions of being stabbed—mentions of ghostface attacks, established romantic relationship between reader and tara, mentions of a panic attack, though not specified, reader is 19.

summary: chad and mindy’s, troubled little sister.

────────✯────────

“sit down.” mindy uttered through her gritted teeth as her hand firmly grasps your right shoulder, her nails digging into your skin through the fabric of your faded evil dead shirt as she harshly pushes you down into the couch that was placed in the living room of your girlfriend’s shared apartment.

“look at your face! a black eye?!” you squint at your older sister, giving her scornful eyes that she definitely didn’t miss.

“what?” she pauses. “you have something to say to me? say it.”

“i’m not a child, mindy—”

“then act like it!” her hands throw up exclaiming frustration before falling back down to her side in a, rightful, dramatic manner.

“you won’t even hear me out! why is it always my fault?”

this time her eyes squint at you, not in angry or frustration but in astonishment. “because it just is, y/n. every week it’s the same thing with you and i won’t deal with it anymore.”

she won’t deal with it anymore? what does that mean? was she sending you back to woodsboro?

letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood from the cut you had got from a previous fight earlier this week; you watched as the girl paced back and forth, her hands firmly on her hips and her breathing uneven. she was clearly stressed—or maybe even something more than stressed.

but chad wouldn’t let her do that, would he? he wouldn’t send you away?

“not only did we agree but we helped you convince mom and dad to let you come to new york with us, we convinced them that we’d look after you and make sure you finished high school.”

“all while we promised we’d go to college, but every week either me or chad has to leave class early because you got into trouble—and you don’t even care!”

“not once have yo—”

the apartment’s door’s locks clicked and it creaked open, revealing chad with sam and tara who appeared by his side.

“hey, i got here as—”

“what happened to your face?” chad was cut off by tara, who rushed over to you, crouching down in front of you and cupping your bruised face.

“‘s nothing tar.” you pull away from the girl’s touch is a resentful manner, still very high in emotion from mindy’s scolding.

“it’s nothing? dude, half of your face is bruised.” chad spoke up as he stepped by mindy’s side, arms crossed.

sam wallowed in the back, not sure if she had the right to say much in this situation. (which, according to mindy and chad she had the right to scold you whenever, maybe even more than them at times.)

“i had to defend myself, so what?” you shrug, a plastic nonchalant aura rolling off you with a very loud hint of anger.

“every week?” tara asks in dismay, hating to see this site get worse and worse.

you shrug again.

“i can’t with you right now.” tara threw her hands up, moving away from you, not wasting any time to make her way to the hallway that led to her room.

“then don’t! i don’t wanna deal with any of you right now! you don’t listen to me, you act like you’ve never had to defend yourself—you act like i haven’t gone through what you’ve gone through!”

you stand up in haste from the spot mindy had forced you into.

“fighting a literal serial killer and fighting some scrawny girl at school are two different things, y/n!” mindy broke down her words in a belittling manner.

sam now too had disappeared to her room, giving you three privacy though you could be heard through the walls. (thank god quinn wasn’t here, she would’ve got a kick from eavesdropping.)

“why can’t you channel this energy into something important? like soccer—oh, wait you got kicked off the team for what? fighting!”

chad eyes mindy, deciding to step into the conversation, knowing the nerve that could’ve hit for you as you had drunkenly expressed just how much it hurt you to get booted from the team you had worked so hard to be on, even planned to play in college when you had the chance.

“look, what mindy is trying to say is: we care about you, y/n—you’re our sister but you can’t keep doing this…you aren’t just hurting yourself but us too.”

“and tara,” chad points towards the girl’s whereabouts.

“even sam.”

“how does it hurt you all, if i fight someone?”

i had to skip class two days in a row for you. chad though but failed to vocalize, viewing it as pointless.

“…mindy and i have been talking, and thinking a lot.”

you heart beat began to pick up, a swirl of a holeless pit formed in your stomach at the long pause in chad’s words.

“we think you should go back to woodsboro.”

your illogical anger has flushed away in mere seconds after the words hit your ears, immediately you became their little sister again.

“no, i—look, i won’t fight anymore—i’ll—i’ll go to the stupid therapy with you guys!”

you watched as chad eyed mindy, him believing in your words while she held a faithless look, knowing, even if you were her little sister there was little to no truth to your words.

hell, even you knew there was little to no truth to your words. but you were just a kid, even if you were just a year younger than them—it scared you, it scared every single second that ghostface could be back.

you could be stabbed again, in the hospital room right beside your girlfriend, in physical pain on your own and in mental pain, not knowing if the people you love most in this world were even going to make it.

you weren’t even sure if you were going to make it.

these things, these emotions and thoughts formed a livid storm in you like no other.

you’re just a teenager, and like any other teenager you assume you’re strong—you don’t need any type of therapy, where you talk about your feelings and any of dumb shit, shit just to bring the memories back.

you beat it physically on your own, so you can beat it mentally on your own.

but you couldn’t be more wrong, your troubled day to day be proof of this.

this very moment, the fear that rang through your body being proof of it too.

“please. i can’t—” your knees bulk causing you to drop back down to the couch, a slight dizzy feeling taking over your head, an enclosure taking over your chest.

a panic attack forming that you were all too familiar with, battling them alone in your room—too prideful to talk to anyone, well, minus tara who had helped you through a few.

“y/n? what’s wrong? breathe.” your siblings instantly by your side.

they don’t miss the look in your eyes, almost as if they were foreign too and you couldn’t understand what was going on.

“i think she’s having a panic attack.” chad notes, his hand resting on your shoulder.

“uh, what do we do? what—”

you flutter your eyes, managing to utter out a name.

“tar—tara.”

“tara—tara? get tara!” mindy orders chad, who is quick on his feet.

“just breathe, y/n. it’s okay. i’m here. chad’s here, and tara’s here. it’s all alright.” mindy’s harsh tone had broken down to a soft one, the same one she would use when you were kids and chad would make you cry by breaking one of your toys, and the same one she used when you were in the hospital bed after being attacked by ghostface.

“baby? what’s wrong?” tara crouches down in front of you, like when she first came in the door, this time in a haste to comfort you instead of worrisome about your bruises.

“i—i’m sorry.” you grasp her wrist as her hands settle on either side of your face.

“it’s okay. you don’t need to be sorry, i’m not mad at you. neither are chad and mindy.”

the carpenter eyes them, getting them to shake their head in support.

“we’re all just a little stressed out, okay? that doesn’t mean we’re mad at you.”

“i love you, breathe for me.” you shake your head, following the breathing guidelines she were displaying for you.

“she’s calming down.” tara assures the twins.

“come on,” tara stands, holding out here hand for you to take.

“let’s get you cleaned up and then we can lay down, yeah?”

“but—”

“you can talk with chad and mindy later, come on, i know you want some cuddles.” tara teases in a joking manner, attempting to lighten the mood.

mindy taking note of the comment, being sure to tease you about ‘wanting cuddles’ later.

━━━ 👩🏽‍💻 i would love to write an actual story based off this but i have no real ideas, if you guys have any send em my way 👀

252 notes · View notes