#he's too worried his eye will pop out of his head instead so loses focus lmao

[fiddlezips]

According to League lore, Yordles can use Glamour to disguise themselves. This allows them to blend in with society outside of Bandle City, though tbh nobody cares much in Arcane lol - they had the fluffiest boy heading the Council, after all!

Silco's version (Glimmer) is more potent due to Shimmer, so his human form is actually physical, not just an illusion. It's less stable, though, and requires concentration to maintain it - and it can sometimes fail at the most inopportune time.

...which means we can have Glimmer malfunction cat-boy Silco, as a treat. 👀

The equivalent of walking around with his fly down. (Or, y'know, weird trouser flap unbuttoned.)

#art #zip's fanart #Arcane #League of Legends #Heimerdinger #Silco #Sevika #his fluffy ears probably pop out if he sneezes #he's too worried his eye will pop out of his head instead so loses focus lmao #Silcordle AU

[princesssmars]

season of the witch

a trephacard x witch reader

wc : 3.644

the saviors of wallachia are tasked with the removal of a dark entity plaguing a town, just to meet a new acquaintance instead.

contains: mentions of murder and violence, cursing, mentions of nsfw bc trevor belmont is a Bastard. fluff. me losing my sanity i need them so bad.

a/n : i miss them so badly god please.

the heart of the forest inside of wallachia was always dark, even before dracula unleashed demons from hell onto them that bloody night. some of the trees were thin, fragile, and tall; looking over you like a shadow looming behind your back. the others were thick and rotting, full of branches hanging off of them like a monster about to strike. staying in these woods long wasn't something meant for the faint of heart.

luckily, the three heroes of wallachia (or the entire world, depending on who you asked), were anything but that. unluckily, they didn't know how to be quiet.

"there's no shame in admitting we're lost really, it happens to the best of us-" "shut your mouth.” trevor quickly cuts off alucard’s jest, trying to focus on steering the group’s cart through the rough terrain. even the horses seemed on edge.

he was too, not like he would admit it out loud. he had heard stories from his older brothers about what was in here. monsters. witches. demons. but then again, he wasn't a stubborn little child who couldn't fight his battles anymore.

he was now a stubborn adult.

“boys, be civil just for this trip, please. we need to save our energy,” syphas’ head pops out from inside the cart, looking between them like a scolding mother. “i have a weird feeling about this job, I can't describe it. but, in case it's bad, we should probably hurry.”

the “job” sypha was talking about was of course investigating the woods and the small town close to them, to the northeast of gresit. there had been reports of strange things happening in the woods-most likely night creatures that had escaped somehow. they'd go in, kill the creatures, retrieve their reward (and maybe some information and ale), then be gone. easy peasy.

“worry not, sypha, it's most likely some pissed-off night creatures that frightened a few of the townspeople. nothing we haven't dealt with before.” alucard says, moving to take her hand in his to further soothe her nerves.

“mhmm…” she hums, still staring straight ahead at the road.

they eventually arrive at the town, stopping the cart little ways out and getting out to walk the rest of the way. the informant said to meet them at the tavern, and when they step inside all eyes turn to them. there are a few seconds of tense silence before the bartender speaks up, “you the three here for the job?”

“yes, we’re here to help.” alucard steps forward with a polite look on his face.

the bar then breaks out into the usual chatter and laughter as the bartender smiles and waves them closer. the three make their way over to him and sit at the stools near the bar, with alucard sitting normally, trevor with his legs open, and sypha with hers crossed.

“can I get yall anything to drink? it's on the house, the least we could do” the bartender voices, cleaning some glasses.

“some beer would be nice, actually,” trevor says almost immediately, earning playfully annoyed looks from his lovers. “what? it's the least they could do!”

they're given their drinks and the bartender gives them some more information about the job, giving insight into how some men in the village went to hunt in the woods last week and haven't returned.

“it’d be best to head out in the morning if you ask me,” the bartender’s eyes flit around, looking almost nervous. “not to be superstitious but now is around the prime time for whatever lives in there.”

the group all share a look before trevor rests his arms on the bar. “then I guess we better get started.”

“is it just me or is there nothing in here to be worried about?” sypha whispers, narrowly avoiding tripping over a large root sticking out of the ground. they'd been walking for what felt like an hour with no sighting of any night creatures, just rarely stumbling across the normal creatures.

trevor sighs, dragging his feet behind his companions. “i knew it, probably just some scared old woman who saw a weirdly shaped tree in the dark.”

“and the men who went missing?” alucard pipes in.

“skipped town or fell in a ditch.”

sypha lets out a long sigh before stopping and turning around. “alright, this clearly isn't working. we should try something else.”

adrian hums, just as annoyed as her at this point. “i could climb the trees, try to get a better view of everything.”

the redhead lights up with a bright smile, clasping her hands together. “that's a great idea, adrian! come down and tell us if you've seen anything.”

he nods, quickly jump-teleporting up the branches of one of the taller trees. below, sypha looks up at him dreamily.

“pshh, i could climb a tree too, y’know.” trevor mumbles, crossing his arms. his face slacks when sypha kisses his cheek and says, “i know you could my love. it'd take you quite a bit, though.”

alucard glances through and above the trees that he can, able to see a good few miles out thanks to the height and his vampiric abilities. he looks around, almost giving up before he sees it: smoke.

jumping down, nearly scaring the daylights out of his partners who lightly scold him, he informs them of what he saw. glad to finally have a bit of action (even if its probably a straggler camping).

as they make their way deeper into the northern section of the woods, they start to feel…weird. like an unwelcoming energy surrounds them, urging, even begging them to leave.

trevor grunts, deciding to call out the uneasy feeling. “does anyone else feel weird or is it just me?”

“yes, there is indeed something strange in the air,” alucard nods, slowing his steps, “it feels like a protective spell, probably guarding something.”

“or someone,” sypha butts in. she's cast this kind of spell before on the castle and the hold to assure alucard they'd be safe while they traveled. it was a bit complicated, but her abilities were growing every day. but the way this spell felt, it had to have been cast by someone extremely powerful. “but we've already made it this far, we might as well see it…through…”

her voice trails off as all of their steps slow. in front of the group stands a small black cottage, the walls made of cobblestone, and the roof made with a dark wood. a path leading to the house turns into a bridge halfway through, reaching over a creek that comes from a small waterfall coming from one of the walls of rock that act as an enclosure for the abode. it was eerie yet almost comforting.

“my goodness…” sypha exclaimed, walking closer to the bridge until she felt a rough hand pulling her back. she looks up at trevor with questioning eyes while he sighs. “were you just gonna walk in and say hello?”

she scoffs, knowing that yeah, she might have. she knew she could be a little naive because of her upbringing and personality, but despite the dark exterior, this place seemed rather peaceful. almost comforting. it'd be hard to explain the connection she felt to this place already.

“if anything i would assume youd be the one to run into danger, trevor,” alucard jokes, walking past the two to analyze the house, “but he is right. we should proceed with caution.”

trevor and sypha nod their heads in agreement, following the blonde over the bridge and up to the door. sypha suggested knocking but in the middle of her sentence, trevor twists the door knob to find it open.

“wait!” she whisper yells, making the man's foot stop before it can cross the threshold. "there's another protection spell starting at the doorway, let me just..."

"i think it's a special sage, lets head in and investigate."

the redhead holds her hand up to the door, her palm brimming with her magic as it gets closer to the boundary. to her surprise, the air in the doorway seems to shimmer with energy. it slightly tickles her hand, making a slight giggle leave her lips.

the companions slowly step through the doorway into what seems like a cozy and cluttered living area. there were numerous books on the far wall, being split apart by a lit cobblestone fireplace. connected to the room is a small kitchen, with various herbs, spices, and plants lining the counters. leading from where the rooms meet is a hallway leading deeper into the cottage, with many candles on the walls being lit.

"look there," alucard tilts his head to the fireplace, noting how a small cauldron is laced on a hook over the flames, with the contents inside nearly boiling over, "whoever resides here has been in here recently."

"at least theyre a nice interior decorator. but id like to know where they're hiding because im becoming uncomfortable." trevor grunts, folding his arms over his chest.

sypha slightly chuckles, poking him in the arm. "oh don't tell me you’re scared of a little recluse, trephie."

"i told you to please stop calling me that-"

"what are you doing in my house?"

the two immediately stop their teasing, all three of the hunters still, turning slowly to face the direction the mystery voice came from.

standing in the doorway connecting the kitchen to the back portion of the yard stands a woman, wearing a casual cloth shirt and simple but slightly muddy trousers. in your arms is a bundle of vegetables and plants picked from what they assume must be a small farm. the thorns of one of the flowers pricks into the skin of your arm from your grip.

the three strangers stare at you, waiting for you to make a move of attack. when you raise your leg to take a step you see the brunette raise his hand to his hip, getting ready to grip-

"my gods, is that the morning star?" you gently exclaim, pointing to the infamous weapon attached to his whip. you'd read about it in one of your books regarding renowned weaponry and the families they were tied to. which meant... "that means you're a belmont, correct?"

as you look at your other sudden.."guests", you recognize the blonde as a vampire, given his catching eyes and pale skin, and the woman with red hair is wearing what you're pretty sure are traditional speaker robes. she’s oddly pretty for a speaker you think. the ones you've seen all seemed like they would drop dead at a gust of wind.

the woman carefully steps forward, placing her hands in front of you as the men visibly tense at her movement. she smiles at you, a really damn pretty smile, and stands up straight. "we did not mean to intrude in your home miss. well, technically we did but only because we've been sent by the people of-"

"belros." the word leaves your mouth like bile, your brows scrunching in annoyance. you sigh, moving over to the counter in the kitchen and setting down your produce before making your way around them and to your fireplace, gently removing the bubbling cauldron from over the fire.

"you’re familiar with the people in the village i assume? though i imagine you don't see them often, you're more than self-sufficient out here." alucard inquires, looking at the number of items stuffed into containers and shelves on the walls.

"im familiar with how the townspeople are a bunch of babbling idiots who would cower in fear at an eclipse," you spit, moving to turn towards the three of them, "and how they banished me from the village when i was young and frequently send people out here to rid of me in fear of what i might do to them."

"you’re telling me those people in belros kicked you put when you were what, a child? what’d you do?" trevor asks, putting his hands up when sypha fixes him with a hard glare.

"no, its fine. it’s reasonable for you to question it. do you mind if i ask your names first?" you move forward to sit on the couch, the speaker sitting on the couch with you while the belmont and dhampir sit on the identical couch across from you.

"well, my name is sypha belnades. these are my partners, trevor belmont and alucard tepes." sypha answers, pointing to each person as she says their name.

"its nice to meet you all. now if you don't mind me asking, how did a speaker, a belmont, and a vampire come to travel together?"

"well it all started with this ones batshit crazy father-"

"trevor!"

"its a bit more complicated than the nitwit makes it seem, but yes, we did come together because of my father. im sure you noticed the amount of hell he unleashed." alucard is calm when speaking, seeming used to trevors rude comments.

'they seem really close', your mind thinks. you feel yourself at ease a bit more.

“yes, it was trevor who saved me from my death, actually. after that, we found alucard and went to kill dracula. once we finished we decided to stick together.” sypha tells, her face bright as she talks about meeting her companions.

“well, I'm glad your encounters with other people these past few months have gone better than mine,” you sigh, moving to sit on one of your couches while they crowd onto the other, eager to hear your story.

you explain to them how you are a witch born with magic, coming from a fairly long line of powerful ones who worked behind the scenes so as to not scare humans with your abilities, lest they call you a demon and ostracize you or worse.

sadly, thats exactly whats happened to you. when you were but a child you had seen one of the town's hunters wounded in the woods, clearly about to die if you didnt help

when you had you found this cottage, you quickly fixed it up and moved it, putting up the protection spells in fear of being found by anything or anyone. but it was inevitable that you head out into the woods and people break through. it didn't phase you any longer to admit what you had to do to protect yourself.

their facial reactions are mixed, a variation of shock, horror, and anger. you were grateful they didn’t seem too upset about you basically confessing to murder, but you suppose they had seen and caused their fair share of death.

to your surprise sypha reaches over, taking your hands in her cold ones, trevor smirking at your visible shiver. “we are so sorry to hear that, y/n. if we had any idea of what the townspeople were like…”

“its alright, sypha. thank you for listening, let alone believing me.” you thank her, smiling at the woman.

“well what do we do now?” trevor questions, “its not like we can just go back there and say we had a nice chat with you and decided to be friendly.”

“i have an idea.” alucard says. “i will need to see what potion materials you have, may i?”

you nod and rise with him, guiding him over to your multitude of stuffed shelves in the seating area and the kitchen. while he’s searching for what he needs you cant help but admire him. ou had always read about the beauty of vampires but figured it was a farce they put on to lure in unsuspecting humans to their doom. but the man in front of you is ethereal and now staring back at you.

“my apologies, i didn't mean to stare and make you uncomfortable.” you nervously chuckle, quickly turning back to look for the ingredients you were searching for.

“its alright. im often complimented for my beauty on our travels.” he laughs, playfully flicking a lock of air behind his shoulder.

“i didn't take you for the vain one, alucard.”

“you may call me adrien, if you'd like. and I'm not really. i get most of my attributes from my mother. its…comforting, to know i look like her.” his tone of voice brings your eyes back to him, seeing the mix of fondness and grief in his eyes at the mention of is mother. you remember faintly hearing that the demons you'd encountered were brought about by draculas rage at his loss, and you couldn't fathom how he managed to process the murder of his mother, the mental collapse of his father and then having to take his life.

not knowing how else to comfort him, you decide to relate to his struggles. “when I escaped here I managed to save a few things of my parents, like my mothers’ jewelry box. it hurts a bit to look at it but it's nice knowing I have something of hers to keep with me.”

alucard watches you as you speak, smiling when our eyes meet his, saying a little “thank you.” under his breath.

trevor laughs, biting into a snack you had offered to them earlier. “another addition to the club of mommy issues. god, help us all.”

the rest of the night is spent discussing and starting alucard’s plan and getting to know more about your new friends. despite the fear of what will happen the next day, you find yourself enjoying their company more than you thought you would.

.

.

.

“ah! our saviors have returned! with good news i hope?” the bartender addresses the returning trio, the other members of the bar turning to look at them in awe and hope.

“your little problem has been taken care of. you and the people of your town will no longer have to worry about what lurks in the woods.” sypha tells, projecting her voice to alert everyone inside the room.

the room quickly erupts into cheers and shouts, the patrons of the bar rejoicing with the news that they are a little bit safer. if they had still been in the dark the three would have found comfort knowing they had helped to bring safety to more people, but after becoming aware that they are happy at the death of a woman, it leaves a bitter taste in their mouths.

“thank you, thank you! we are forever in your debt.” an older man says, his attire leading them to recognize him as the leader of the village.

“trust us, it was no problem.” trevor assures. “although, how about a round of drinks? monster hunting leaves a man thirsty, after all.”

“why stop at a drink? we will throw you a feast! you have saved our people a great deal, you deserve nothing less.”

the three share a secret look.

“that sounds wonderful.”

.

.

.

the feast is spectacular. there is a great amount of food, enough to share with everyone in the village to syphas insistence. before the drinks are served, alucard excuses himself. he returns when trevor and sypha are in a seemingly pleasant conversation with the village head. halfway through the dinner, they notice how the townspeople seem a bit lighter like a weight has been lifted off their shoulders.

once the feast is over trevor heads to the edge of the woods near the front of the town, where you wait patiently while fiddling your hands together. you have faith in alucard but if this works, if the people recognize you…

“dont worry. it anything goes wrong we’ll protect you.” trevor notices your worry and reassures you, placing a large hand on your shoulder while he guides you into the village center.

you both stop as a woman with her child does the same in front of you. you can feel the magic inside of you gearing up in the face of potential danger.

“why hell, dear. we haven't seen you in town before. are you a visitor as well?”

you let out a concealed long breath.

“yes. yes, i am.”

.

.

.

“it seems like the townspeople are rather welcoming to you. i hope this will help bring you a sense of security, y/n.” sypha hugs you close to her in front of her and her partner's wagon. after making sure the potion had been taken and the now forgetful townspeople had been alright with your presence, it was time for them to head on to their next journey.

“you have no idea what you three have done for me today, i have no idea how to repay you,” you tell them.

“well you could always come along with us and earn your keep, i suppose.” trevor jokes, shrugging his shoulders as adrien and sypha roll their eyes at him. “what? you two were thinking it as well!”

“i do agree it would be enjoyable to have you on our travels. you'd make a powerful ally to us as we continue to clean up wallachia of night creatures.” adrien agrees.

sypha nods. “and what if the potion wears off? or more people bother you because of your abilities? maybe it would be better for you to come with us. for extra protection, of course.”

you nod your head along, pretending to take in their arguments like you hadn't already made up your mind when they had risked so much to help you. you had a feeling your life was going to become a lot more exciting traveling with the heroes of wallachia.

.

.

.

#castlevania 2017 #castlevania #castlevania x reader #trevor belmont #trevor belmont x reader #sypha belnades #sypha belnades x reader #adrien tepes #alucard tepes x reader #alucard tepes

[pennedmusings]

Thumb Fight

Summary: You are in a bar waiting for Sirius and the boys to show up, but the chaos and the hubbub of the setting make it difficult for you to have a good time. Thankfully, Sirius shows up just in time.

Note: fluff, comfort, Muggle!AU, Sirius and the reader are friends but with mutual pining! because I'm a slut for that. Gender-neutral reader. Neurodivergent reader. Not very well edited

Relationship: Sirius Black x Reader (mutual pining)

Warnings: Sensory overstimulation, sensory icks, crying, self-depreciation, reader is not very fond of themselves, mentions of drinking! reader almost has a panic attack (?)

Word count: approx 2K words

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated, comments even more so!

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

The music was so loud you could barely hear your own thoughts.

It had been a pleasant hum before, a singer crooning softly from a corner, stuff that you could handle, stuff that you enjoyed actually. But as the night went on, the crowd got progressively drunker, and their tastes got progressively rambunctious. Right now, the speakers boomed with the heavy bass of some pop song. The crowd that had clamoured to put on “real” music instead of the Chris Isaak that you were so at ease with, now no longer cared for the song and wanted to focus on their chatter. People yelled at decibels far beyond the human capacity just to say hello to someone.

It was a Saturday night so the bar was packed to the brim, and you could feel several arms brushing past yours. You escaped the corner you had thought to seclude yourself in when a couple came in with each other’s tongues down their throats. You walked over to the bar and laid your hands flat against the marble when your skin came in contact with something wet. It was probably just condensed water from a cold drink, your brain tried to reason, but your instinct was to recoil in disgust and immediately wipe your hands off the cold, wet, annoying sensation on your hand.

It was a nightmare for you.

You flinched every time you so much as heard another glass hit the bar.

The glasses clinked.

The crowd roared.

Somebody said “hello” a little too loudly.

The bass pumped.

The door squeaks.

The bar top is wet.

Someone’s arm is brushing yours.

Too much, too much, too much, too much, too much, too much, too-

“Hey, hey, hey, puppy, what’s wrong?” warm hands lift your chin up and you almost flinch before realising who it is. Your eyes meet the concerned grey of Sirius’s. and as his eyes widen you realise how bad you must look in the moment. Surely, Sirius pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and starts dabbing around your eyes.

Oh, you didn’t know you’d started crying.

His thumbs smooth out the furrows of your eyebrows as he moves closer to you, as if he’s trying to shield you from the rest of the bar.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks softly, and you nod.

In no time he’s wading through the crowd, trying to create an opening for you to follow him out with. He holds your hands in his throughout the whole deal. Finally when you are both outside, the crisp, chilly autumn air hits you and you sit on the pavement in grateful silence. You don’t need to speak and Sirius doesn’t demand an answer as well.  

You lose track of time as you rub your hands over your body. Crack your joints, gnaw on your lip, braid a portion of your hair, and tap your feet to a rhythm stuck in your head. After a minute, or maybe 10, or  maybe 20, when you’re humming the same part of a Mitski song over and over again,  Sirius speaks up.

“You feeling better now?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” the relief is evident in his voice, “ I got really worried seeing you like that.” He admits.

An apology comes out of you instinctively.

Sirius scoffs and settles down beside you, “it’s not your fault lovely.” He offers you his hand and you take him up. He quickly moulds your hands into a position for a thumb-fight and you are grateful for the distraction. Because he is sitting next to you and you can smell his cologne, and you can feel the heat emanating from his body; you might go into a different kind of panic attack if you focus on just him for longer. 

“It kind of is though,” you soldier on with your self-criticism. “If I wasn’t so fucked in the head, you wouldn’t have to leave everything and sit with me outside a bar.”

The thumb fight has reached a strategic impasse, both of you hold your thumbs poised, ready to attack, but none making the first move.

“For the record, I didn’t leave anything.”

You look up to his eyes for the first time since coming outside the bar. But perhaps for the first time, he’s the one avoiding eye contact. You try to hold his gaze but he is adamant to not let you.

“What do you mean? I know for a fact that James and Remus are in there waiting for you to join them.” you point out. The boys were supposed to get to the bar together, being the roommates that they are. They had offered to pick you up from your apartment so that all of you could be there together but you knew they’d have to take a detour to accommodate that. Besides, your shift ended earlier today so you figured that going to the bar was less depressing than sitting by yourself at home waiting for someone to pick you up. Maybe you should have taken Remus up on his offer after all.

“They’re twats who have separation anxiety.” He deadpans but both of you know he’s only teasing. He’d take a bullet for them through his heart.  

His face looks peculiar, unfamiliar in this setting because you’ve never seen him like this- all shy and red in the cheeks, avoiding eye contact, for once you’re the pursuer.

“Twats they may be, they’re still your friends. You should go inside with them. I’m much better here, you don’t need to stay.” You brush your thumb against his in challenge.

“Oh but I do,” the response is prompt, “need to be here to look after you. All alone, looking so pretty in the night, someone might steal you away. And where will be after that?” his thumb bashes yours away.

“You’ll all be much better off.” You huff.

He tsks very loudly and soon your thumb is pressed underneath his. You try to wriggle it free but he is a rugby player and his strength is not to be messed with. “ Quit it.” He warns.

There’s a pregnant pause. You’ve had this conversation before. Maybe not with the others, but definitely more times with Sirius than you could count. None of you say anything. You have long given up on trying to retrieve the thumb that’s stored underneath his firm grip.

“It’s rotten work.” You finally huff out.

He sighs, “Not to me. Not if its you.”

The stupid bastard knows Euripides. Great.

Anger and self-loathing forgotten you now try to get to the bottom of this enigma. “Pray tell, how did you know what to say?”

“I’m a man of culture-!” you smack him upside down. “OW!” he rubs the back of his head tenderly.

“You binge-watched all of Dance Moms in a week.”

“It’s a cultural revolution.” 

“You have the attention span of a very small baby without any object permanence, you did not go through all of Euripides.” You say decidedly.

“Okay, I did not. You just mentioned it one day and said that you liked it a lot. So I thought of reading it but I couldn’t get past the first page.” Here you crack a smile, “ so then I just went on the internet to find something popular from the book and this was the first thing that showed up. Of course, knowing you, I could bet that you would quote this at some point or the other at me, and I wanted to be prepared.”

The chilly London air feels so much hotter than before. Even though its late at night, you think you can see the sun trying to shine its way out from the darkness. Sirius Orion Black will kill you one day. You think he’s trying to kill you right now. With his stupid shy smile, his stupid grey eyes looking at the pavement like it’s the most interesting thing in the world, the stupid blush creeping over his cheeks.

“Oh so when I asked you to take the chicken out of the freezer that one day, it was too much work for you, but Y/N just mentions a book and you’re off cramming its Wikipedia page? Some roommate you are Pads!”

Both of you whip your head around at the sudden intrusion. James leans against the door with his arms crossed over his chest in a display of anger that you know is all fake. Remus is standing next to him with his hands in his pocket and a small smile on his face. They look like they’ve been here for a while now and the realisation makes you want to disintegrate into the asphalt.

Intrusion into your quiet time with Sirius it may be, but you are in a way grateful for it; the conversation was going into realms you aren’t prepared at all to face. You look towards Sirius and judging by his face, he’s relieved too.

“What are you lot doing outside?” Sirius demands nonetheless (your thumb is still firmly wrapped under his), “aren’t you supposed to be getting piss drunk today?”

“We were supposed to get piss drunk together” James explains with all the patience of a tired rugby player who’s been working without break for the whole day, “We ordered shots and everything but we couldn’t find you or Y/N, so we came outside looking for you.”

You feel heat rising to your cheeks. Oh, so your breakdowns were that predictable. Being perceived is a mortifying ordeal.

However when you look to James and Remus there is nothing but kindness, understanding, and concern in their eyes. That lessens some of the awkwardness.

(Sirius’s hand has now enveloped yours, and that’s doing wonders for the anxiety too)

“Anyway,” Remus begins with a long drawl in that usual ‘Let’s-get-to-the-point-shall-we’ way of his, “are we heading back inside? No offense darling Y/N but its fucking freezing out here.”

Despite his words, you know there isn’t any malice to his position. It’s his way of asking if you’re okay in front of everyone; if you’re okay to face the inside.  

Though the question is meant for you, you look to Sirius for some sort of inclination. You get nothing but a soft smile. You know what it means. You just have to say the word and they would camp outside and start a party by the pavement.

It’s overwhelming and heartwarming at the same time to think about how deep their friendship goes. To abandon everything simply because one person isn’t comfortable with it. You are beyond lucky to have this in your life. But however tempting the idea of leaving all this to go sleep in your bed might seem on other nights, tonight you find yourself looking forward to getting piss drunk with this group of men who crashed into your life like a storm.

Your hand is now being properly caressed and massaged by Sirius’s and you feel all the stress slipping away. The prospect of the daunting inside seems less and less like a bad idea knowing that you have him by your side. You need only make the smallest protest and he’ll escort you out immediately. No matter the amount of wet table tops, or too-loud people, you know that with him around none of your senses would have enough sense to make you feel anxious.

So you nod.

James lets out a whoop and Remus chuckles at his antics. Sirius- well, Sirius is smiling at you again before he’s hauling himself up to his feet. He takes a second to adjust before he’s pulling you up as well (by the hand he had never let go of).

The gates to the bar are swung open by one of the boys, and the inside is as you expected it to be: loud, with people clambering all over the place. But you don’t notice that not when Sirius pulls your thumb into another fight and the rest of the world blurs away.

#harry potter fanfic #sirius black #reader insert #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #muggle au #marauders #comforting #fluff #neurodivergent #reader has sensory issues #largely based off of the time when i get overstimulated in public settings #i wish i had a Sirius Black to comfort me #please let me know if i'm missing a warning

[flightlessangelwings]

Together

Tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: 3k

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY!), unprotected sex, established adult relationship, oral (f receiving), pinned against the wall, use of super strength, argument leading to sex, feelings, emotions, protectiveness 

Prompts: “It’s always my fault, isn’t it?” and “I really don’t care; you look hot and I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now.”

Notes: Written for @mattmurdocksscars follower celebration writing challenge! Congrats again on the followers, Amanda!! I saw these and immediately the idea popped into my head and I’m so happy with how this turned out! I’ve really missed writing for Peter too! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates​ is my update blog so feel free to turn on post notifs for that blog to stay up to date on when I post!

~

You paced the apartment nervously. 

He should have been back hours ago, yet Peter was nowhere to be found. And although you tried to do whatever you could to help him, mostly by being his home base in a sense and sitting with him on the other end of a communicator, Peter tended to push you away from his vigilante life. It frustrated you to no end, and you knew that his communicator didn’t always just break conveniently whenever he got himself into a more sticky situation. 

But now it was past three in the morning, and you hadn’t heard from Spiderman, Peter, since he got into an altercation and cut off communication. Again. You screamed into your end of the line, but all you got was silence on the other end. And that helplessness made you so angry. So, instead of being helpful, all you could do was circle the small space you shared with Peter while you hoped that he was ok.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you heard a soft thud at the window and you looked over to see the familiar figure slide in. Relief washed over you as you watched Peter take his mask off and unzip the back of his outfit. He exhaled deeply as he rolled the top half down until his chest was exposed, and the fresh bruises you saw instantly brought back those uneasy feelings once more.

“Dammit Pete!” you shouted, getting his attention, “What the hell happened?!”

Peter’s mouth dropped open as he stared at you dumbfounded; you had never reacted like this before in all the time you knew he was Spiderman and he wasn’t sure what to make of it, “Whaaat? What’s the matter?”

“‘What’s the matter?!’” you spat back, “Peter, you cut me out… Again,” you couldn’t help the tears of frustration that welled in your eyes, “Every time things get tough, you always push me away,” when he was about to retort back you interrupted, “And I don’t buy that you lose your earpiece or it gets broken every single time!”

Peter let out a deep sigh and decided not to lie to you, “I’m sorry,” his eyes dropped to the floor, “But you know how dangerous it is,” he looked back up at you, “I have these powers, I can take care of myself… But you… I can’t be out there saving New York and worrying about you too!” His own emotions bubbled over and he raised his voice at you without meaning to.

“Oh, so it’s my fault,” you felt the rage build within you but you didn’t care how irrational you were being, “It’s always my fault isn’t it? I make you lose focus? That’s an excuse Peter, and you know it!”

As he watched your outburst, it finally hit him: you weren’t angry, you were afraid. You were afraid that he wouldn’t come back to you one night. You were afraid he would get too hurt while fighting a bad guy. You were afraid he would disappear and you’d never know what happened to him. All the exact fears Peter held for you were reflected in your eyes and he realized what an idiot he was being. All the time he thought he was protecting you, he was actually inadvertently hurting you, and he didn’t even know it until that moment.

Peter’s face softened and his shoulders dropped as he whispered your name. His gaze bore into yours as he watched your own body slowly relax as well. You could tell from the look in his eyes that Peter was sorry, and suddenly you felt bad for yelling at him, even if your feelings were valid. You knew he only wanted to keep you safe, and you knew he could handle himself with whatever he got into. But you cared so much about him that you still couldn’t help but worry.

As the two of you stared at each other in silence, neither knowing what to say next, Peter’s gaze dropped down to study your figure. And that was when he noticed that your legs were completely bare. Being so late into the night, all you wore was an oversized t-shirt that barely tickled the tops of your thighs. A tinge of red highlighted his face as he swallowed hard and you suddenly became aware of just how much skin you showed.

The tension was thick in the room, and you cleared your throat nervously as you tugged at your shirt, “Listen, it’s late,” you started to turn for the bedroom, “I’m just glad you’re back. Let’s talk about this in the morning, ok?”

Just as you tried to walk away, Peter suddenly flicked his wrist and a string of his webbing caught you by your wrist. You gasped in surprise as you turned back to face him and saw a newfound fire burn behind his eyes. Peter’s jaw was clenched tight and even from the other side of the room, you saw the flush in his face.

“Wait,” he sounded strained, as if he physically held himself back, “I really don’t care about anything else,” Peter panted as he gave his webbing a small tug, “You look so hot, and I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now.”

Your mouth dropped open as you felt a rush of arousal wash over your body. Whenever Peter looked at you like that, it made you weak in the knees, and you could never say no to him. Especially when his Spiderman suit was rolled halfway down his body to reveal his toned chest.

“Then get over here and fuck me senseless, Pete,” you tone was low as you fuddled with the webbing that was stuck to your skin.

As if a flip switched in his head, Peter groaned at the voice you used and gave the webbing a fierce tug. With a surprised shriek, you suddenly felt yourself pulled across the room, guided by the webbing and Peter’s super strength until you were securely in his arms. Without hesitation, he kissed you deeply as he spun your bodies around so that your back hit the wall.

You let out a gasp as you found yourself pinned, and Peter used your open mouth to his advantage. He dove his tongue onto your mouth, deepening the kiss, while he lifted your arm above your head and used the webbing on your wrist to pin you to the wall. You moaned into his mouth as you surrendered to him and used your free hand to claw at his shoulder.

“Pete…” you whispered between kisses as his hands roamed all over your body.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin as he kissed his way along your neck.

His hands dipped underneath your shirt and palmed at your breasts. You arched your back and let out a loud moan under his loving touches. Hot and heavy, both of you felt a sudden wave of desperation crash over you and you knew that tonight was not a night for teasing. You needed him and he needed you. And the way he bucked his half hard cock against your body told you all you needed to know.

Peter kissed his way back up your neck and took your lips with his once more as his hands dropped down to your hips. He gave them a squeeze before he ran the tips of his fingers along the hem of your panties and you felt him smile into your mouth when he realized you wore his favorite.

“My little minx,” Peter purred in a low tone.

“You like it,” you smirked back as you rocked your body against his. 

“Oh shit, honey,” he groaned as he teased your pussy through the fabric, “You know I can’t resist you when you look like this.” Just as you were weak for Peter, he was just as weak for you, if not more so. All it ever took was one look from you, one hint of want, and he was done for. “You’re so beautiful,” he showed you with kisses and praises at the same time, “I’m so lucky I get to come home to you every night.”

“Peter…” you mind swam in the bliss that was his touch. Your mouth dropped open and you let out a gasp when his fingers teased your clit. “Please… Don’t tease me tonight. I need you too bad.”

Peter groaned when he felt how wet you were through your panties, and between your pleas and the desperate look in your eyes, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He quickly hooked your panties with his fingers and pushed them aside to reveal your dripping cunt. He licked his lips and breathed your name as he guided your legs apart one with hand and hastily tugged his suit down with the other.

Once he stepped free from his suit, Peter wrapped his hand around his cock and gave it a few pumps, all under your piercing gaze. You watched him with bated breath, your one hand still locked above your head as you waited for his next move with gleeful anticipation. 

“Fuck me, Pete,” you moaned as you bucked your hips against him and grabbed onto his shoulder again.

Passion burned behind his eyes as he grabbed your hips and lifted you up with ease. You let out a soft yelp, but it quickly turned into a moan when you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance. A string of curses spilled from both your lips as Peter thrust himself into you.

You let out a scream when you finally felt filled by him, and you tug your nails into his back when he immediately thrust himself in and out of you in a steady rhythm. Peter’s grip stayed tight on your hips, leaving your legs to dangle on either side of his body while he rocked into you. He rested his forehead against yours and fought to keep his eyes open so he could watch your every little reaction.

Too filled with need to take it slow, Peter snapped his hips against yours as he fucked you desperately. Moans and groans filled the small space as he held you against the wall and thrust into you over and over again. Skin slapped against skin as you clung to him with your free hand and let him enter you over and over again. It was hot, heated and frantic, and it was everything you both needed at that moment. 

“Oh fuck… Peter… I’m…” The heat quickly built up in your body, and every time he was fully buried inside you, he hit that spot that drove you wild. At this angle, Peter’s cock was deeper than it had ever been before, and it made your climax build that much quicker.

“Me too…” he groaned as his sweaty forehead stayed plastered to yours, “You feel so good like this, baby.”

“So do you, Pete…” you whispered.

Your words made him pause for a moment when he was fully sheathed inside you. Both of you let out low moans at the motion and you both just looked into each other’s eyes for several moments. The heat that quickly built up between your bodies was palpable, and the tears in both of your eyes were apparent. Even in the heat of the moment, there were so many words you both wanted to say yet couldn’t quite find.

“Come on,” he snapped back into the present and thrust his hips against yours in a fast and desperate rhythm once more.

The scream you let out went right to his cock, and as he felt your inner muscles clench around him, Peter knew he wouldn’t last much longer. But, neither would you, and with just a few more thrusts of his cock, you came with a loud scream. Your nails dug into Peter’s skin so hard you were sure you felt blood, but neither of you cared. Peter kept up his frantic pace as you rode out your orgasm until his own took over.

With a low groan of your name, Peter’s eyes snapped shut as he spilled himself deep inside you. You whimpered as you felt him fill you up even more, and you swam in the ecstasy of pleasure as he continued to rock into you for as long as he could.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he stilled himself inside you and collapsed his upper body against yours. Peter’s hands still kept a strong hold of you, never once faltering or threatening to let you go. Both of you breathed heavily as you steadied your racing hearts while you stayed still against the other. 

It was late into the right, and you were sure Peter was spent, but he had other plans for you.

Slowly and carefully, Peter pulled out of you with a groan. He peppered soft, sweet kisses along your face when you whimpered and carefully set your legs down onto the floor. Your arm started to tingle from being held above your head for so long, but once you opened your eyes and met Peter’s, suddenly you didn’t notice that anymore.

You weren’t quite sure what to make of the look on his face. He was exhausted, you could tell, and the glow he always had after he fucked you was previlant. But there was something else there… something sadder.

“Peter?” you asked in a whisper as you cupped his face.

He said your name in a prayer as he suddenly dropped to his knees in front of you and wrapped his arms around your body, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he choked back a sob, “You were right. I shouldn’t have pushed you away,” he tightened his grip on you as he buried his face into you, “I was just so scared of losing you… I thought this was the best way to keep you safe,” he sighed as you rested your hand in his hair, “But all I can do is trust you,” he looked up at you, “And I do, I trust you more than anyone,” he paused as he took a breath, “So from now on, we do this together. Alright?”

A smile lit up your face, “Deal,” you tried to pull him up to stand, but he kept his place on his knees, “Pete…?”

He moaned your name, “I need,” Peter’s eyes trailed down your figure to your pussy. He licked his lips as he watched the glisten from both your releases highlight your beautiful cunt, and the panties still stayed to the side to frame you perfectly.

Without another word, Peter dove into your core and covered your clit with his mouth. You threw your head back and let out a loud scream, your pussy still sensitive from being so throughouly fucked. Your free hand clasped his hair as you tugged hard while he swirled his tongue along your folds. 

Peter hummed against you as he guided one of your legs to rest over his shoulder, giving him better access to your pussy. You were too lost in your blis to notice the shift in weight, but you were aware of Peter’s strong grip on you. You trusted him never to let you fall, and you allowed yourself to relinquish yourself completely to him.

“Fuck… Fuck… Oh Peter…” you cried out in pleasure as you felt him work you with his tongue. 

Still sensitive from having cum once, it took almost no time for another climax to build within you. Heat rose from your core, and with every flick of Peter’s tongue, you felt yourself inch closer and closer to orgasm. He moaned into you as he savored the taste of you, and his tight grip kept you safe and secure. It only took a few more swipes for you to cum again into his mouth, screaming his name as you did so. 

Peter kept going until your legs shook on either side of him. When he broke away from your pussy with a loud pop, he looked up at you with glazed over eyes and just soaked in the sight before him. Your eyes were closed, your arm still pinned above you, and your one leg was still draped over him. You were open and exposed and vulnerable, and you had never looked more beautiful to him.

He would have been happy to stay on his knees like that for the rest of the night, but he saw the fatigue in your face, so he knew it was time to take care of you, “Hang on, baby,” Peter gently set your one leg down before he rose to stand, “I’ve got you.”

“I know you do,” you whispered as you blinked your eyes open, “That was fucking amazing,” you giggled, “But my arm is numb. Could you cut me out?”

Peter exhaled with relief as he grinned at you, “Hang on,” he carefully broke you free and immediately caught you when you collapsed forward, “Hey, hey,” he whispered your name, “You ok?

“Great,” you replied back right away, “Just tired now.” Between the outburst of emotions, the argument, and the needy sex, you were wiped out, and all you wanted to to lay in bed with your Peter.

And in what felt like a flash, that was exactly where you ended up. Peter stripped you both so that you could lay skin to skin together, just like how you both liked it. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close as you rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. But, before sleep completely took you over, you extended your arm out and held him just as tightly as he held you.

“I’ve got you too,” you whispered as you dozed off, “I love you, Peter Parker.”

Peter couldn’t help the smile that lit up his face as he gave you an extra squeeze, “I know you do,” he murmured your name as he kissed the top of your head, “I love you too.” 

#tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker imagine #andrew garfield! peter parker #andrew garfield!peter parker x you #andrew garfield!spiderman x reader #andrew garflield!spiderman x you #andrew garfield #tasm!spiderman x you #tasm!spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker fic #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader

[starhvney]

um.... what if gene x fem reader that got stuck during the starlight ultima incident with his friends 🥹 what's he feelin... what if they reunited..

Sorry if this is cringe 🙏

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mystreet gene x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: gene and the rest of his trio made it to starlight, but as soon as they arrive, they’re told they’re trapped on the island. amid the chaos, gene finally finds you, only for you to be ripped away from him once again

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: angst, hurt/comfort, zenix being slow(in the head), lowkey wingwoman sasha, gene crying and whimpering >:), could be seen as slightly ooc but i traumatized him for the plot so :3 oopsi!

𝐂𝐖: mentions of character death and violence, getting shot

𝐀/𝐍: did someone order a gene fic, extra angst? i haven’t caught up on rewatching the later seasons of mystreet, so i’m sorry for any inaccuracies in the lore! anyways another gene banger had to do it to em

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

it had happened so quickly. one moment, his eyes had landed on yours, the corners of his lips raising as he started to walk towards you. it had been too long since he’d seen you, and he couldn’t help the almost childish excitement he felt in his stomach. his mouth had only barely opened as he was about to call your name, when he realized the panicked expression on your face, your head shaking at him to stop. it stopped him in his tracks, the way your eyebrows were pinched together and your eyes were wide in… what was it? shock? fear? 

it was then he realized people were shouting and pointing in your direction, drawing the attention of some nearby soldiers. the ones who trapped everyone in here in this big mess.

“isn’t she one of the ones with the ultima?”

“right here! guards!”

then it was chaos. the crowd around him screamed and pushed him further away from you as armed men swarmed the area. he had started to push back, confused and dazed as he finally caught a glimpse of you again, running in the opposite direction.

then there was a loud popping noise, one that echoed across the plaza, and he watched your body drop and disappear amongst the crowd. loud, panicked screams sounded muffled in his ears as he stumbled back, the blood in his face draining.

why was his vision blurry? where was he again? 

he couldn’t breathe. he can’t breathe.

familiar hands pull him out of the crushing pushes of the crowd, keeping him upright as he gasps for air. when did his ears start ringing?

“gene! gene! come on man, let’s go, we need to get back to the room.” he’s finally able to focus on a voice, his normally narrowed blue eyes blown wide in shock.

zenix felt disturbed, looking at the state of gene in that moment. he had never seen his friend like that, his mouth was agape in shock, chest hitching unevenly as gene’s glazed over eyes looked straight through him like he wasn’t even there.

“what happened…?” he trails, before shaking his head and dragging his paralyzed friend through the crowd. “come on, sasha is back towards the condo. she’ll be worried.”

it was a blur, the next week. the guardian forces sent out a curfew, only letting people out of their rented residences if they were getting food or necessities and arresting anyone they deemed “suspicious”. he couldn’t sleep, eye bags darker than usual and skin gaunt from exhaustion.

anytime he closed his eyes he saw your face, his heart twisting at how anxious you had looked in that moment. were you able to get away? or did you bleed out on the concrete, losing consciousness as the crowd kicked sand in your face? was it instant instead, sparing you the suffering and pain? what if he was able to make it to you before you were shot, could you be here with him right now?

regret ate him alive, every moment he had spent with you replaying like a movie. your smile when you’d lock eyes with him. your eyes when you were talking about the things you liked. how he had hesitated telling you how his heart sped up when he was around you, knowing you would be leaving on vacation. what if he told you, that day?

a faint but rapid knock interrupted his thoughts, his eyes darting up to meet the wary looks of sasha and zenix. After a moment of contemplation, he gets up slowly, approaching the door and grabbing a kitchen knife from the counter. it doesn’t matter if it was the soldier who fired the shot at you or not, his jaw clenched as he hardened his resolve to plunge the object right into the throat of…

just as you were anxiously questioning if you got the condo number right, the door in front of you slightly opened, revealing the man that you had been looking for. a second passes as he stares at you, dull blue eyes boring into yours with an unreadable emotion in them. you hear something metallic drop to the tiled floor behind him, tearing your attention away from him for a split moment.

before you can say anything his hand reaches out, grasping onto your hoodie and yanking you into the room with unexpected force. shaky arms wrap around you, tight enough to almost be near painful. you register the door shutting behind you, but your focus falls on gene’s hitched breaths hitting your ear, his body feeling slightly weaker and thinner than you remember.

“who…? oh shit, she’s alive.”

zenix’s voice disappears as soon as it had appeared as sasha dragged him into another room, her voice hushed and muffled.

“gene…” you cautiously call out, earning you another tight squeeze.

your feet drag as his back hits the wall, sliding to the floor and taking you down with him. his legs trap you against him, keeping you completely crumpled in his lap. just as you’re about to say something again, you feel his entire torso shake with a silent sob, an almost inaudible whimper meeting your ears. his quiet gasps for breath hit your hair, tears dampening your neck and hoodie as his whole body continued to shudder against yours.

for a moment you’re left frozen in shock. you can’t remember one time you had seen the man cry, let alone break down as he was right now. you move your arms as much as his unyielding hold would let you, trying your best to return his desperate embrace.

“...were dead.” his voice cracks out hoarsely, only letting you hear the end of his sentence.

“...what?”

“i thought you were dead.” he shudders out another whimpered breath. “i saw you get shot.”

one of his hands that was clutching onto your shoulder moves up, shifting his grip to the back of your head and tucking you closer to the crook of his neck. he presses his nose into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo before placing a teary kiss against your head.

“i was grazed by a bullet, but i’m okay.”

his other hand finds your cheek, moving your head back enough for your eyes to meet. gingerly, you use your thumb to wipe the remaining tears from under his eyes, frowning at the swollen dark circles underneath them. his dark eyebrows are uncharacteristically upturned, and his eyelashes wet and stuck together.

midnight blue irises dart down to your lips before he meets them with his own. it’s desperate, the way he tilts your head back, one of his hands threading through your hair and the other rubbing and pinching the skin on your cheek–as if he were checking that you were really there. his lips taste salty, his tears only slightly hiding how chapped they were from a lack of hydration. he parts from you to rest his forehead against yours, his breaths finally steady and full. you stare up at him in a surprised daze, feeling the pieces of a large puzzle begin to click in your head.

slowly, the two of you rise to stand again, his hands still clinging to you as if you would disappear from them if he let go. you hear soft footsteps enter the room again, and turn to see sasha peeking through the doorway. she scans you with her eyes, before her downturned lips stretch into a rare smile.

“i’m glad you’re okay.”

zenix appears behind her, arms crossed and lips pressed together in thought. sasha kicks his shin with her foot, causing him to curse under his breath at the sharp pain.

“me too, obviously.” his eyes narrowed. “but… how did you find us, exactly?

“it’s a long story, but i came to get you guys to bring you back to where we’re all hiding out. if michael or the gf finds out you’re associated with us… you guys are safer if we’re all together.” their eyes stare blankly at you in confusion. “i can explain more later, but you should pack what you can and get ready to sneak across the island.”

“sneaking into places we’re not supposed to be is the one thing we’re good at.” sasha smirks before she and zenix retreat back into their rooms.

you glance back at gene, only to see he was still staring down at you. you raise on your tiptoes, pressing a short kiss to his lips. he leans down as his lips try to follow yours, eyes hesitating to open again 

“and when we get back, you can explain more about this later.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

#aphmau mystreet #mystreet x reader #aphmau #x reader #mystreet #aphmau gene #gene x reader #mystreet gene x reader #mystreet gene

[osamusbigtits]

suna is elated to finally have found the right antidepressants and dose for him. but there is one downside.

his performance in bed has, well, decreased. his libido hasn't. he still pops boners like a teenager seeing a girl's tits for the first time. and who can blame suna when his boyfriend is miya osamu.

but, fuck, he can't seem to come in a timely manner, if he even ends up coming at all. sometimes, he loses a boner despite feeling like he's in heaven.

it's either sex or suicide. well, that's a dramatic comparison, but it is nice feeling like he does have something to live for.

osamu swears he doesn't mind. he says he could suck suna's dick for hours. and suna believes that. he's more frustrated with himself. sex has always been something that he's been good at. with osamu, there's never been pressure. it was always about feeling good. and what other show is there that you feel good besides an orgasm.

suna lays in bed. he tries doing some research, to see if there's something he can do or different medications he can take. but it's just more people feeling the same way he does.

osamu slides into bed behind suna, wrapping an arm around suna's waist and placing a gentle kiss to suna's neck. "what you reading?"

suna just shows his phone to osamu, too embarrassed to say the words. osamu hums and kisses suna's neck. just as gentle. almost soft, and teasing.

suna's a little distracted, though.

before he can get anymore annoyed, suna switches to twitter instead.

he knows osamu's looking over his shoulder, so he scrolls a little slower than he usually would.

osamu continues with those light kisses. his fingers dance along suna's waist, barely grazing the skin.

suna lightly nudges osamu with his elbow to show him a silly post and it makes osamu laugh, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of suna's neck.

suna relaxes in osamu's arms. he gets lost in gentle kisses and soft touches. soon, osamu's fingers find their way to suna's tummy, dipping close to suna's waistband.

suna's cock twitches and he wonders when he even got hard. still, he keeps scrolling through twitter, not in the mood to embarrass himself.

osamu's fingers slowly crawl back up to suna's hips, drawing shapes there.

"that one's funny," osamu says with a soft laugh. he kisses the sensitive spot under suna's ear.

suna knows what osamu's doing. the touching, the kisses, that sultry voice of his.

when osamu tucks his fingers under the waistband of suna's boxers and whispers, "can i?" suna finds he can't say no.

he sets his phone down, sighing when osamu wraps his hand around suna's cock.

the pace osamu sets is too slow. suna groans and jerks his hips forward, trying to give osamu the hint.

osamu hums, low in his throat and right next to suna's ear. the sound makes him a little dizzy. "just relax, baby," osamu whispers. "just follow me, okay?"

suna breathes out and then nods. they do have their slower moments, but suna does like things to be quick, he likes it fast-paced and a little rough.

but now, all he can focus on is osamu's slow strokes, the simple twist of his wrist. suna's breath hitches when osamu thumbs his slit.

"good boy," osamu says softly. suna shudders. that's new.

osamu presses his bulge against suna's ass and suna grabs osamu's arm.

"need you," suna breathes out. his nails dig into osamu's arms. "samu-"

osamu gently shushes him. "don't worry. you're okay just like this."

it's not enough. he's not gonna come like this. he can't come when osamu's balls deep, railing suna like he's a rag doll. how could this possibly-

"stop thinking, rin," osamu says, like he can read suna's mind. "focus on how you feel."

suna breathes out and closes his eyes. osamu speeds up just a bit and suna throws his head back. osamu seems calm and in control but suna knows osamu's taking everything in his power to not fuck suna senseless. osamu's hips rut against suna's ass. and suna loves feeling that bulge grow.

"you're always so sexy, rin." osamu mumbles between wet kisses on suna's neck. "so gorgeous for me. I always need you. watching you move is like it's own porn. sometimes I jerk off to your games, just watching you the whole time." fuck, suna didn't know that. "that cocky smile you get when you successfully block someone. how sweaty you get." osamu hums, the vibrations coursing through suna's skin.

"sometimes, you'll be napping on the couch and it's hard not to take you then and there." osamu's voice grows rougher and suna doesn't know if he can last any longer. "when you walk around the house half naked, I swear it just to tease me." osamu nibbles suna's ear. "sometimes I just want to devour you."

"samu," suna moans, high-pitched as his nails dig in deeper. "samu, fuck-"

"fuck, and your pretty moans. I would give anything to be able to hear you moan, no matter what. fuck, that's my favorite part about fucking you. I don't need anything else, babyboy. those moans," osamu groans, his hips still rutting against suna's ass, his hand moving just a little quicker, but his rhythm is still solid, never wavering. "those moans are all I need from you."

and it's suna's moan that follows shortly after that statements. his dick jumps before spilling cum all over osamu's fingers.

it's the quickest suna's came since he was a teen.

osamu works suna through it until suna pushes him away. he kisses suna before suna can say anything, and suna can't think to push him away. his mind is hazy, but he's trying to work through the implications of osamu's words.

"I love you, rin," osamu says, serious but light. "and I love doing anything with you. even if the expected outcome never arrives."

suna's eyes sting but he kisses osamu deeply.

#hq #bex thoughts #sunaosa

[skullsnbruises]

Made a lil self indulgent thing teehee hope everyone enjoys :3

[Ao3 Link]

Taglist: @poprockpanda @brick-a-doodle-do @local-squishmallow @dingbatnix @da3dm

Prove Me Wrong

(1690 words) [suicidal ideation, BPD jack]

It wasn’t unusual Jack would find himself in a bundle of rage and self-loathing, cursing himself out for a simple mistake that snowballed into the final stake in a crumbling relationship. He was curled beside his bed, gripping his knees, phone laying beside his head as it blew up with notifications.

As it kept lighting up, he couldn’t get the texts out of his head. Everything that led up to this moment.

He was fighting with Niki. Or more so, she was begging him to talk to her, and he was melting down in his own misery, exploding with overwhelming emotion. He was terrified of losing her, so he was pushing her away to lessen the hurt. It’d happened before, he’d get too attached and be too clingy, and then everyone he cared about would abandon him for being too much.

It was such a stupid reason to have such a horrible episode over, all he’d done was slip up and say the wrong thing. Niki was so accepting and apologetic, trying to get him to open up, but it tore him apart to be wrong. He wasn’t meant to be wrong.

The exact details were messy, all Jack knew was he made a terrible mistake, and Niki hated him. She was gone forever.

The urge to check his phone, just in case, overpowered all instincts to ignore Niki forevermore.

Jack shook sobbing as he picked the phone up, anxiously typing in the password. Their messages popped up, and his heart ached at the sight of dozens of gray text bubbles showing, concerned outpourings of affection. It sickened Jack, nobody was meant to care about him. Niki was only lying to him, she didn’t love him. Not after everything he’s done, not after countless slip ups. She just couldn’t.

Jack was completely unlovable. That had always been true from day one. He knew it just as well as everyone else.

The last message, the only one Jack cared to read, said “That’s it, I’m coming over.”

Panic insued, boiling inside his steaming blood, striking straight into his already wet eyes. Entirely distressed, he started spamming to her, begging her to just leave him like he knew she wanted to. Sobbing to her to let him die alone. Pleading with her to tell him the truth, that he was a selfish monster incapable of being a good person or worthy.

She was on her way though, which meant she’d be here soon, and Jack would end up hurting her, like he always did.

Jack dropped his phone, and it probably broke from the impact, but he didn’t care. His limbs sprawled out around him on the cold wooden floor. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to focus on the bumps and scratches that littered the surface, instead of the dead feeling of depression stifled in his chest. He choked from the lack of proper oxygen getting into his body from the heavy panting, and he forfeit his body to whatever the world wanted to do to it.

Jack wished he was dead. Then he couldn’t ruin anything else. Everyone would be happy finally. Without him, there’d be no more hurt, no strong uncontrollable emotions, no lashing out, no Jack burdening every person he’d ever met. It would be a perfect world, if only he wasn’t in it.

He dissociated as the time passed, boiling in hatred as snot and tears stained his face wet, red, and salty.

There was a knock at the door, and Jack screamed in panic, instantly scrambling to his feet. His legs felt wobbly underneath him as Jack tried to steady, making his way over to the bedroom door. At least Niki let him have a chance to let her in. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to let her in.

Jack opened the door anyway, eyes glued to the floor to avoid her worried eyes as her figure came into sight with the door open.

“Jack,” she breathed out, instantly pulling him into an embrace, “I’m here.”

He felt numb. His mind ached and his eyes hurt. But Niki’s hug felt like the world, a soft blanket of kisses, a bandage to fix it all. She was a saint, perfect, angelic, and overwhelmingly caring. She always was. And Jack was a bad person, he was nothing in comparison. She deserved more.

“I didn’t want you here,” he lied. Jack partially wished she’d take that and go, but at the same time, if she left right now, there might not be a Jack tomorrow. He hated that he was doing this to her. Niki shouldn’t be held hostage by his heart like this, he shouldn’t value her more than his life, but he did.

She was crying, which hurt more, “Jack, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” why was she upset? Jack was in the wrong, not her.

Niki hugged him for what might as well have been hours. Eventually, Jack had returned the gesture, shaky hands coming around her back, and gently placed them there. It felt okay, and so he tightened his grip, and held her like she would disappear if they parted.

But eventually they did part, but Niki’s hands stayed holding Jack’s.

“Jack,” she had the most gorgeous image of sympathy shining in her eyes, flicker of light glinting her passionate gaze, “I love you. It’s okay.”

Tears fell down his cheek unwillingly, and he could only stare back, throat unable to muster a response. He didn’t deserve an ounce of this; Niki was too good to a monster like him.

“You’re wasting your time,” his voice croaked.

She sighed, “I’m not. You’re important to me.”

Jack’s eyes squeezed shut, “Stop.”

“How can I prove it to you?” Niki whispered softly. And honestly, Jack had no clue. He was fully convinced he was unworthy. That he was disgusting, and horrible, and dramatic . Nothing she could say could change that.

Moments of silence brought Niki suddenly to a lit face, “Here, can you sit on the edge of the bed?”

He shrugged, too tired to argue or question. Jack did as she said, sitting upright on the pillows and messy sheets, waiting for her next move.

Niki stood in front of him, gave a soft smile, then rested her hands on his shoulders and lifted herself up to straddle Jack’s lap. She laid against his chest, humming softly. Jack felt his breath hitch uncomfortably in his lungs.

Before he could open his mouth, Niki was shrinking down, down, down. Her entire figure shifted until she was around an inch, give or take, tall, sitting on Jack’s lap and looking up smiling. He couldn’t help but return the expression, before biting down on his lip.

She lifted her arms, singling for him to pick her up. Jack obliged, bringing her to eye level. Niki’s miniature figure beamed at him, outstretched arms wishing for a hug. Jack obliged, bringing his palm now to his nose.

Her teeny voice squeaked out, “I’m going to prove I care. Okay?”

Jack’s eyelids lowered. That numbness really bit at him, hurting his brain with racing self-loathing thoughts. He watched cross-eyed to see Niki wrap her hands around his pointed nose. She nuzzled against the skin, humming softly.

“I love you,” she squeaked, then her grip slipped and she slid down. Jack panicked, reaching to catch her, but Niki caught herself on his lower lip.

He realized then she had intentionally dropped down, as her tiny hands pried open his lips, them letting out a pop as they pursed. Niki knocked on Jack’s teeth like a door, asking permission inside. Jack cringed up at the implication, she wasn’t meant to want to get close to him. She wasn’t meant to care or want to show affection.

“I-“ Jack started before Niki stole the opportunity, hopping inside his mouth the instant his teeth had opened. She snuck inside, flopping against Jack’s tongue.

He was suddenly hyperaware of his mouth, Niki’s little form sat on top of the muscle, shifting slightly inside him. The walls of his mouth couldn’t stop salivating, her tasting like sugar on his tongue. Saliva pooled around the appendage, and his teeth hovered awkwardly open.

Niki rubbed his tongue comfortingly, then scooted forward, using it as a slide as she slipped down, the saliva no doubt helping in the decent. She met the back of his throat, and her body paused, shimmying around. Jack wanted to spit her out, it was already terrifying enough to let people into his heart, much less his stomach. Especially Niki. He loved her so much, if he got so attached, he’d lose her. Like everyone else.

But Niki was determined, and she wouldn’t let him give up their friendship. That was plain and obvious. So, reluctantly, Jack swallowed.

It was terrifying. Letting her in, letting himself trust her. Letting the relationship form and stay between them. Niki went above and beyond every time to prove she wouldn’t just abandon Jack, and in a way, he hated it. It wasn’t normal to him, being cared about, so it made it unpredictable and confusing. He knew how to act when someone despised him, not the opposite. Processing it took so much effort.

But Niki did love him, and as she glided down the squishy wet walls of his esophagus, Jack cried.

Niki wanted to make it work, so she was going to make it work.

Soon enough, she met the open area of Jack’s stomach. Jack instinctively grabbed his stomach when her weight entered the organ. His palm rested against his shirt, eyes closed as wet eyelashes dripped.

She laid against the stomach walls, rubbing circles into the organ. Wordless affections were shared through slow movements between them, their hands placed on the same area, wall of flesh between as they pressed against one another.

Jack accepted it at last. Niki was here. She cared.

While before he was petrified of her being anywhere near him, now he wanted to keep her this close forever, never letting go of this. She was the healthiest thing to ever happen to him, and Jack was grateful.

#posts by sunny #mcyt g/t #dsmp g/t #mcyt vore #dsmp vore #sunnys fics #g!jack #t!niki

[golatcxr]

Focus [Mike Morton x ADHD!Reader]

Genre: Fluff

"Focus, unfocused, but on you I'm ever focused."

TW: none

<3

It had been several months since you first stepped into the manor. When rumors said it was a dead-alive game, you found it quite relaxing and even friendly outside the battlefields.

Every day you would wake up and participate in matches, you often visited the hunters' side after matches hour had ended too. You held no grudges against them, neither did they. On the other hand, you were nowhere close with your teammates, having suffered from ADHD, it's extremely difficult for you to form a proper bond especially with your bad memorizing skill and you constantly zoning out.

Survivors, all vulnerable they seemed, but it's easier to break apart a mountain than to actually befriend some.

.

.

"No more failed calibrations..." you thought to yourself after getting electrocuted twice, whenever you failed one, your decoding progress would be decreased by 20%, however, that effect could be trippled up. You ran your fingers across the dusty metal keyboard, cursing at your own divided attention.

"Seems like you are having a hard time to concentrate, (Y/N)?"

Your attention was immediately drawn to the Acrobat who stood right next to you.

"Oh god, Morton you scared me!" You breathed out heavily in frustration and relief at the same time. He was the closet "friend" to you among the survivors so there was almost no worries of being scolded.

"Can I decode with you? I haven't had any chance to gain another fireball and Margaretha has already shooed me away. I don't think the hunter is nearby now, is that okay for you?" He asked with a smile.

"Sure." You were much assured and settled down.

When the cipher you were working on was almost done, you heard Jose screamed "The hunter is near me!" but then you saw the red spark on your right.

Which meant The Ripper had teleported to your machine, at that very moment, it popped. You ran to the pallet next to you and threw it down.

"Focus on decoding!" That was your final message before looking back to find Jack trampling the pallet.

20 seconds had passed...

40 seconds had passed...

Then 60 seconds...

2 more ciphers to go and you were stumbling in your half- health state. Suddenly something caught your eyes, it was Margaretha's slow music box. For other survivors, that would be a great kiting place but you, you were so drawn to it that you forgot to turn around. The hunter mercilessly knocked you down and destroyed the music box.

"Sorry..." you cried out, and yet another machine was done.

Jack hummed and picked you up, he then headed to the nearest rocket chair.

"Don't worry I just want to test something."

You were left speechless. Jack didn't bring peepers nor camp the chair although he was at risk of losing.

Odd. He wasn't the type to admit defeat so easily.

Eventually, Jose came for the rescue but then he was targeted instead of you. On your way back, you heard a familiar voice.

"(Y/N)! You okay??" He called out,

Instead of healing you right away, Morton pulled you into his tight embrace and asked if your injuries were too bad. You wanted to burst into tears, but then calmed down right away to let Morton heal you. His touch always melt your anxiety away, it was so gentle.

Later on, Jose was captured and the last cipher was ready to be popped.

"He is quite near the other gate now, I still have tide turner so let me do the rescue." You stood up then headed to the rocket chair immediately, you swore you saw Morton pouted a bit.

Your team could have a 3-escaped but a terror shock turned the table.

After Margaretha was sent back to the manor, you were the last survivor, desperately searching for the dungeon. Unfortunately, you were discovered and knocked down not long after.

"Little one, you ran right pass the dungeon over there." Jack chuckled lightly. "I have something to tell you so please come with me." He carried you to where the dungeon was located and put you down.

"We all know Mike Morton, the Acrobat, is such a skilled actor, but I did not expect him to be that obvious."

"Wgat do you mean by that?" You tilted your head, hand holding your aching head.

"Oh dear, if you really haven't figured that out then I shall let you know, that boy has something for you, quite a sight indeed." He hummed. "I suggested that you meet him after this match. Have fun."

The match ended with you being the only survivor who escaped, you didn't understand a thing that Jack had told you earlier, partly due to your lack of concentration. Strangely, it kept circling around your mind. Without realizing it, you were looking at Morton sitting at the dining table when you arrived at the lobby.

"Are you focusing on me? That's rare." Morton smiled.

"No."

"Oh."

"Well actually yes but no."

"Are you up to something (Y/N)?" He asked.

"Oh, right.. I gotta ask you something." You blurted out, whilst trying your best to not get distracted.

"Sure, but first, the next match is starting soon so we'd better retreat." He walked away, waving his hand to catch your attention.

In a second, you caught it. Morton flinched at the sudden contact but he let it be.

"Uhm, Mike?" You spoke up.

"I like it better when you call me by my first name." He smiled.

That adorable thing just blessed your soul but in change, increased your heart rate which make you stammer.

"So, uh, a certain someone told me that you had feelings for me, I wonder if that was true." Instantly regret it when you caught his gaze, he was facing you.

His eyes widened, Morton put his palms on your shoulders.

The flashback of the match kept your mind thinking back and forth. Completely unaware until Morton pinched your left cheek.

"Listen (Y/N), I know you get along quite well with the Ripper but you shouldn't always believe in what he said to you." He replied. "But this time, you should."

You froze in place for a few second, you were focusing on him, on Morton.

"You don't know how much I gotta say I love you to express it." He then cupped your cheeks with his hands, forcing your face up to look at him. "You are listening right?"

"I am, you have my full attention everytime you look at me like that." You pecked his cheek playfully, earning a small gasp and a blush from him.

Too busy on your thoughts, yet again you were brought back by him. But this time, it was a kiss.

It's hard to stay concentrated, but you felt your yeyes never wanting to leave him.

---------------------------------

Author's note: No one, but me editing my draft all the way back in August 2021 at midnight 🤡👏 I fucking love Mike Morton and I won't deny it, happy Halloween y'all ✌️✨👻 I don't actually have ADHD, more like short attention span only so if this seems too unaccurate, I'm very sorry.

P/S: I have 25k frags and ready to drag his S skin pack home by the collar 🤌

#mike morton #mike morton x reader #idv x reader #fanfiction #identity v #identity v x reader #idv mike #I'm scared of misusing mike tags from TR help

[dylansslutt]

Daddy Issues 4 / R.C

the long awaited part im so sorry my loves!!!! i have been in such chaos but not chaos, i got a good idea but i wanted something to be posted its been forever and i feel horrible for not posting lately.

warnings: like every chapter

 i roll over to feel a hard body beside me, my eyes opening softly. forgetting everything of last night my eyes widen at the sight of a shirtless rafe. everything coming back to me i rolled away from him, my knee and body slowly starting to ache.

 i look around for my phone but find it nowhere, for fuck sake. i softly get out the bed and head inside the bathroom, flicking the light on. my appearance made me gasp slightly, leaning closer to analyze myself.

  from my dad to those guys, i look horrible. luckily washed from any dirt, but the scabs and bruises were littering my skin. i go and take another step and about lose balance as my right knee gives out. i grip the counter but still made a huge thud against the cabinets.

 “fuck!” i mutter softly, sitting on the toilet in tears. everything ached and all i wish i could do was have my mom. even though the bitch left all i wanted was her.

 “selene?” rafe opens the door, half a sleep but worried. i rub my face in defeat, “im sorry, i-i about fell and just hit the-” pointing towards the sink cabinets that banged together.

 as he opens his eyes more they almost pop out his head at the sight of me. i shake him off, “im fine.” i go to stand back up but quickly sit back down at the ache of my knee.

 “you’re not fine.” he kneels down looking at my knee, “it’s bruised really bad, maybe even sprained, but not broken or torn.” he mumbles looking up at me, making me laugh softly.

 “okay dr.cameron.” i mock jokingly but he leans forward catching me by surprise with his lips softly touching mine. i kiss back slightly before pulling away.

 i couldn’t express my emotions right now, he said what he said; we did what we did. yet i’m still so nervous and worried over everything, and not even over somethings.

 “he-hey, baby. what’s wrong?” he stands up worriedly, i sigh standing up ignoring the pain.

 “th-this rafe! i told you i liked you, but yet do you realize all that happened yesterday? do you?” i snapped letting my internal freakout known. i sigh before pushing past him into the room.

 “yes, i realized what the fuck happened last night! i saved you!” he calls out after me making me turn back towards him swiftly.

 “oh so you’re just the knight and shining armor right? i’m the damsel in distress that’s pathetic just like m-my dad. oh my g-god, he h-i was almo-.” i feel my throat start to close and tears spill down my cheeks.

 rafe pushes me back to sit on the bed as he holds me. “shhh. i promise you i was high and stupid, you’re nothing-nothing like your dad.” he carefully pulls me in.

 “i hate it rafe.” i sob into his chest, “im so scared an-and i gotta take care of us. i ju-just cant take it.”

 “those guys from last night, you’ll never have to worry about them again; i promise you that.” he reassures me as i sit up some, sniffling softly. “it’s not even just them.”

 “move in! move in get away from your dad, selene.” he tries convincing me but i shake my head. i can’t leave jj, i can’t do that. i just need to get a second job and rack up my money.

 wiping my face i wince softly, “i can’t leave my brother rafe, besides i have a plan.” i look down at my clothes then my clothes from last night in a pile.

they were gross and stained, great.

 “what’s the plan, keep getting abused selene? ‘cause that’s not an option.” his eyes meet mine and i sigh. “no, im gonna get a second job, get an apartment for me and jj away from my father.”

 he stares at me hard and keeps silent, which i couldn’t tell what he was thinking. instead of waiting for him too i spoke up again, “do you think i can borrow something from sarah? my clothes are ruined.”

 “yea don’t worry, i’ll talk to sarah.” he moves to get up but i quickly catch his hand. “please, don’t tell her about this.” i beg quickly as he focus his gaze on my face.

 “i won’t, you’re my girl. no matter what your secrets are safe with me.” a soft warmth spreads throughout me and i just nod softly. when he leaves the room i lay back feeling nauseous from my head ache, and the whirlwind of thoughts i had in my head.

--

      after changing into some of sarahs clothes, which thankfully covered most of my bruises. “you know you can’t go home.”

   i knew this, he didn’t need to remind me. “yes rafe i know this, im going back to john b’s im just stressing about what to tell my brother, okay! i dont need you telling me this every 5 seconds.” i snap as i sat up from his bed.

 rubbing my face softly, “im sorry. i just...” a sigh escapes me, i should just leave. i stand up and glance around seeing my bag. “can i use your phone?”

 rafe nods before handing it over, i type in kie’s number before dialing it. turning away from rafe, i wait for her to answer.

 “hello?”

 “kie.” i breathe out, “sel? where the hell are you, and who’s phone are you using.”

 ignoring the questions, “i’ll explain later, just please can you pick me up from sarah’s.”

 “you’re at sarahs? wha-” i interrupt her. “stop, please. ill explain once your here.” she sighs and tells me she’s on the way.

 i bite my lip turning back to rafe who’s look was unreadable, “rafe-

 “no it’s fine, do what you want selene.” he gruffs out before snatching his phone and keys before heading out. leaving me alone in his room, confusion and sadness over taking over.

 this wasn’t how anything was suppose to play out, rafe was a stranger from afar. the ‘king kook’. nothing made sense anymore and it was drowning me alive.

 instead i reach down softly, picking up my clothes. annoyance rang through me as i got reminded i have no phone anymore. i heard no noise so i slowly make my way down the stairs, ignoring the pain in my leg.

 without even looking for rafe, i just walk out the door. the sun was blaring making me squint, walking towards the end of the driveway. i only ended up waiting for about 5 minutes until i see the all to familiar van pull up.

 thankfully kie was alone as i got in, her gasp echoes through the air at her sight of me. “i know.” i mumble trying to keep the tears down, throwing my dirty clothes onto the floor.

 “you didn’t answer any of ou-” she starts but i quickly cut her off. “i don’t have a phone anymore... it broke last night.” i pull down the visor taking a better look at myself.

 i had a black eye, slightly swollen cheek, and a busted lip. honestly not that bad. “what the hell happened selene?” kie snaps making me stare out the window, asking myself the same thing.

 “a lot...kie.” i mumble and she scoffs, “im gonna need more than that.”

 i roll my eyes and shift my view back on her, “does jj know i called you?” she nods, “only that i was picking you up, not that you were at sarahs. which what the hell were you doing there?”

 i sigh leaning back slightly, “i wasn’t there with sarah, kie. i-i was with rafe, but before you start.” i quickly rush out before rubbing my face softly, careful of the bruises.

 “last night... i um i was walking right a-and these guys, tha-that owed my dad money.” a tear slides down my cheek making me harshly wipe it away. “they attacked me, a-and rafe wa-was there so-” kie interrupts me as i began sobbing.

 “oh my god... sel.” she pulls the van over onto the side, few streets away from john b’s. i look at her through my tears, terrified of everything at this point. kie quickly pulls me into a hug, allowing me to sob into her.

 “i-i dont know what to do, i am the oldest! i go-gotta get me and jay somewhere safe.” i pull away sniffling softly, wiping my tears with my shirt.

 “hey, this isn’t all your responsibility. we will help, dont worry about jj he’s gonna be fine.” she tries to reassure but i still feel doubtful. “look if you want stay with me for a little, jj can stay with john b. plus im pretty sure my dad needs extra help, so you can pick up some extra shifts.”

 she wipes my last tear, and i glance in her eyes with admiration. “thank you for always being there for me.” the confession was soft but enough for kie to rehug me.

 as she pulls back and starts the car up, i fidget softly. “what do i tell jay?”

 she sighs, “the truth... as bad as it seems i think you should.“ keeping quiet i knew she was right, i can’t hide anything from him. im glad though i can stay at kie’s, i can’t handle the situation with rafe right now anyways.

 we pull up and the rest of the gang was chilling, making me even more nervous. pope’s eyes lands on me first, him sitting up with concern.

 “selene?” he questions making everyone look at me. jj jumps up out of his seat, walking forward with so much furry.

 “jj calm down.” i mutter as he got closer, “who did this?” he growls out, but i just pull him away from the group.

 “please, stay calm. okay i’ll tell you everything, but please listen.” i beg the taller boy who resembles me so much. he stays quiet but loosens his tense gaze.

 “last night, some guys dad o-owed money too...” i trail off motioning towards my face. “rafe cameron actually saved me and i stayed there last night, it was nothing i promise! he actually...helped?” shock still left me in awe.

 obviously i wasn’t going to tell them every detail, but analyzing jj’s face he only  nods. “i still dont fuckin’ like him, but im glad he was there. do you remember what the guys look like?” he keeps his voice down on the last part.

 i shake my head no, which was a lie. they were burned in my memory. “i need you to stay at john b’s for a little, i’ll help with groceries and everything but you have to stay the fuck out of trouble okay!.”

 he goes to speak but i cut him off, “im not finished, i will be at kie’s for a little. i will be working two jobs busting my ass for us a place; so for the love of god stay the hell out of trouble and get a part time job.”

 with that i walk away from him and towards the group. “hey guys, who’s in the mood to get fucked up?”

-

 the light shining bright on my face woke me slightly, a groan leaving my lips at the pounding headache. squinting slightly i see everyone still asleep around me, instead of waking up anyone i sit up quietly.

 we all got piss drunk last night, and the place was a mess. i glance up at the clock on john b’s wall, 10:12 am. i get up and make ways around everyone to get to the spare room. i find my backpack, opening up to see my work clothes.

 i switch the light on to the bathroom, thankful the power was back on over here. turning the shower on and hopping in, washing away everything that felt stuck on me. mentally more so, everytime i close my eyes it never leaves.

  after getting dressed and covering my bruise the best i can, i walk out towards the living room. kie was up and on her phone, but the rest of the boys were asleep.

 “hey baby.” i whisper softly at her, dropping down beside her. her hand rest on my arm lovingly, “when do you have work today?” she questions making me glance at her phone to see the time. 11:15.

 “12, you think you can give me a ride?” she nods yawning, “yea, i need to go home anyways. my parents are on my ass.” we both get up, me grabbing my small purse to put the essentials in. still mad i have no phone right now.

  -

    the ride to work was nice, kie offer to pick me up. which i only responded with i’ll call her off the work phone. i love kie to death she instantly became one of my best friends, i just feel guilty for needing her help.

 i pull my vape out as i stand off to the side, hitting it a few times before walking in. “selene!” the voice made me jump turning to look around. my sight lands on rafe, beside’s his car.

 my mouth drops open, looking around nervously. “what are you doing here?” i make ways over to him, confusion written all over my face.

 “im sorry about yesterday, so i got you something.” he mutters pulling out my phone from behind his back. “wh-what? i thought i dropped it bac-”

 “i found it and got it fixed for you.” your eyes not even really on the phone, more so captured by rafe’s gaze on me. “i-i can’t accept this.” rafe only steps closer.

 “call it um... me proving to you i really care for you, sel.” his left hand cups my jaw softly, my eyes never leaving his. “rafe...”

 instead of finishing the sentence, he pulls me close kissing me differently this time. it wasn’t rough nor soft, it was as if he was making sure that only he could kiss me this way.

 i pull back with a giggle, “rafe... i have work.” i motion towards the building behind me. “thank you though, for fixing my phone.” i smile up at him, his gaze on my lips still.

 pecking them softly, he begins to back up. “text me on your break.” and with that im left with a fixed phone in hand, and a red tint across my face. what the hell?

 shoving my vape in my pocket, i swipe open my phone. instantly texting jj and kie, my phone got returned somehow. not lies but still lying, i sigh and head inside.

 before i reach the door, a text dings causing me to glance at it.

 rafe: when are you free next?

#rafe cameron #obx rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cam #obx fic

[vihrago-a]

“ ah… i know. morning sickness is no fun, huh? ” Stevie :]

to say it was no fun, was an understatement. she was miserable to an unbelievable degree and she wasn't even that far along. it was four months now and she'd only found out a month ago that she was pregnant. it wasn't planned. and she didn't know how to feel. stevie had attributed her symptoms to the stress of making sure @deadranch was safe and being in a constant state of watching over her shoulder. she had suspected something was up when she missed her first cycle, brushed it off thinking it was just stress. and then she missed another. it wasn't normal. then the nausea started hitting and she spent a majority of the early morning keeled over the toilet like it was her best friend. normally she could get herself situated before wyatt woke up and act like everything was fine. eventually she took a test and it confirmed her feelings. a big fat positive. for the record, she wasn't upset about it. she was scared and worried. she wouldn't be able to do her work without risk of hurting or even losing her unborn child -- which meant she couldn't protect wyatt. stevie just had so many questions and worries. would she be a good mother? would her child get her ability? what was he going to think? she was terrified to tell him but it had to happen. so she had to think of a plan.

it was easy to set the mood and wait till he came back from his evening outing. candles set out on the dinner table, a bottle of some vintage wine -- not that she could drink it -- and some quiet music. the test was hidden in her back pocket, tucked underneath her shirt to make sure it couldn't be seen. stevie had made actual food but the smell of it was nauseating despite it being one of her favorites. her leg jiggled wildly underneath the table. she was sure that if she moved it any faster she would break the sound barrier. the lock on the door clicks and unlocks. he was home. the expression on his face was priceless and she couldn't help but let out a soft giggle. " i know, a little overboard, right? i just felt like we needed a romantic evening. we haven't really ... had that in awhile. " the lie came smooth and easy off her tongue but of course, he was suspicious. she could tell. she couldn't blame him either. stevie wasn't the sort of person to spontaneously do something like this. wyatt is quick to pop open the bottle of wine and grab her glass. but she stops him. " actually wyatt i ... i can't have that anymore. " he quirks an eyebrow and asks why. his anxiety level has spiked tremendously.

she pulls the test from her back pocket and holds it up as if it was a little trophy. the poor rancher looked like he was about to drop the bottle right there and then. setting it down, he enveloped her in what she would describe as the strongest bear hug known to mankind. he radiated pure joy and bliss -- he was happy. the hug quickly ended as he was afraid of squishing her too much. instead, he opted to press a gentle hand to her stomach. a family. they would be a family. right now they didn't need to worry about the things that haunted them. they could focus on the small joy that had blessed them. a new beginning.

back to the present. she had just returned from the bathroom back to the bedroom where he was sprawled out underneath the covers, awaiting her presence again. he was most certainly still sleepy with how his eyes fluttered and words slurred. stevie crawled underneath the sheets again and rested her head on his chest -- placing a hand on his torso. " it really sucks. its every morning like clockwork, i always have a headache afterwards. but ... but it's worth it. because i'm with you. and eventually it'll be us three. what do you think? you think its a boy or a girl? if it's a girl, she'll definitely have your good looks! "

#MUSE : STEVIE #V : CLOSED VERSE / DEAD RANCH #ft. wyatt fletcher #deadranch #pregnancy tw #pregnancy cw #emetophobia tw #emetophobia cw #under the cut bc of length #not bc of anything else

[firesideme]

Chapter Two

The house is empty again when you wake, and the road to school is quiet and still. The hill at the center of town ripples in the wind, the hedgerows crowd over you, dust gets into your eyes. It’s all the same, but you are determined to make this day different.

The school itself is as intimidating as ever with pillars of strong sand-colored stone and an enormous clock tower that chimes every day at noon. First lesson passes, then the second. You wonder which class that boy and his friends are in. The school body isn’t large, but still, you hadn’t noticed them before. Couldn’t you just go and look for him? Would the teacher do anything? You snap out of your daze and focus your eyes on the man at the front of the class. He hasn’t called on you once, didn’t say a word when you didn’t hand in your assignments. 

You stand.

He continues to scratch his chalk against the board. Your peers keep their heads down, scribbling notes.

You walk to the door, turn the handle, and close it behind you. Looking through the window in the door, you wait a moment, heart pounding, to see if anyone will react. Not a single aspect of the scene inside the classroom has changed with your departure. 

Maybe it’s your family that’s the problem, otherwise, why would the teachers be in on it too? Your parents have been out of town for months now. Does everyone know something you don’t? Nothing makes any sense, but once again, you latch onto that boy from the day before; he was different, wasn’t he?

The corridor branches off into different classrooms, the sounds of chalk scraping and a low drone of chatter coming from each. You peer through the windows on your tiptoes, searching for him, but as you check the last classroom, you haven’t found him or his friends. Trying not to feel disheartened, you decide he must simply be in the year above or below instead. From looks alone, you decide to head up one floor to search the seniors’ rooms, when the bell from the clocktower chimes for noon, the vibrations traveling through your bones. In orderly lines, the classrooms empty, students smiling, making light-hearted conversations about lunchtime clubs and the previous lesson. You back up against the wall, worried someone will question why you’re there, but only the first wave of students glances at you until you're lost in the crowd.

“Is there a boy with blond hair in this year?” you ask one of the girls.

She looks at you, startled, and her brows furrow, then she is dragged away by her friends and you are forgotten. 

“Excuse me-” you try again, grabbing onto the sleeve of another boy so as not to lose him, when your eyes travel up higher, your attention caught by the looming figures of two of the tallest people you’ve ever seen in this small town. They walk a few meters in front of you, their heads popping out of the crowd. The taller one, a boy with coal-black hair, turns his head slightly and you recognize him as one of that boy’s friends who had been sitting with him the day before. 

“Wait!” 

Your voice is erased by the conversations of the students and you have no choice but to push your way through them, unsure of what you will say or do when you reach the two boys. On their long legs, they reach the stairwell quickly, disappearing around the corner and leaving you searching for them at the top. You turn around to face the window overlooking the yard to wait for them to come out at the bottom. When they finally appear, you notice that all eight of them have gathered. They maintain a relaxed pace as they cross the yard to the canteen. 

“Wait for me!” You’re unsure why you feel so desperate, but, unwilling to examine the feeling, you take the stairs two at a time to catch up. 

The smells from the canteen reach you before you open the doors, and the noise hits you like a brick when you do. As you stand against the wall to keep out of the way while looking for the boy, you realize that you should probably think about eating too since you rarely have food at home. Usually, you’d take as much as you can, keeping some for later before finding somewhere quiet outside to eat. You know you wouldn’t be bothered if you sat in the canteen with the rest of the students, but that’s exactly the issue: there’s something too painful to bear being alone in a room full of people. 

Would he find it strange if you came to sit next to him? Worse still, would he ignore you?

Your eyes scan rapidly over dozens of heads until finally, you see him in the corner of the room with his friends. Look at me, you plead inside your head. Just look at me again one more time and I’ll know you’re different. But it’s you that looks away first, unable to take the disappointment if his eyes never find you again. Instead, chest tight with anxiety, you wait in line for your meal, using the time to make a plan. When you receive your tray, you know you won’t be able to eat a thing on it with the panic you’ve worked yourself into. 

Stop being pathetic.

You march over to their table with the intention of asking to sit with them, but at the last moment your resolve crumbles and you join the very end of the bench as if you had just been looking for a spare seat. 

“It’ll suck,” the second tallest member of the group says, voice a deep, rasping baritone. “What’s the point?”

“Then we’ll make it not suck,” says another about the same height as you. You wonder how he hasn’t gotten in trouble for wearing his hair long, let alone having the front of his bangs bleached. 

“Don’t you have more important things to worry about?” 

The boy with the ponytail shuts his mouth tight.

The blond boy speaks, his voice not as deep as the first’s, but much more soothing instead. “Wooyoung can handle it. It’s not like he has to make time for studying like the rest of us.”

From across the table, Wooyoung shoves his friend playfully. “I study.”

“And Mingi has the voice of an angel,” another jokes.

“Just say you’ll do it. Please,” the blond boy says. “I don’t ask for much.”

A long sigh comes from another boy around the same height as you. He fans himself with his hand, wavy chestnut hair shifting out of his face. “But a school festival? We were made for better than that.”

“That’s where we start. Think of it as practice.”

“You got something to say?”

You realize with a start that Wooyoung is looking at you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” You drop your fork. “You’re talking to me?”

The rest of the boys peer down the length of the table at you, the pressure of so many eyes making you want to hide underneath it. 

“Well?”

“I-I…” The blond boy looks at you, head cocked. It’s not just him, you realize, they’re all different. “I was wondering if you needed any help preparing for the festival?”

Wooyoung frowns deeper. “What’s your name? We don’t have any classes together, do we?”

“No…” You swallow and grip the hem of your skirt. You’ve never given anyone your name before. “Mono.”

“Your name’s Mono?” another of the group says, a boy with tan skin and rough, strong hands. “That’s unique, I guess. Is it foreign?”

“Don’t be rude,” says the boy with chestnut hair, digging an elbow into the other. 

“Sorry.”

“We don’t need any help.”

“You don’t even want to do it, Mingi,” Wooyoung says before turning back to you. “Can you perform? You know, sing or dance or anything?”

Can I? “I was thinking more along the lines of making decorations or costumes, actually…”

Wooyoung looks at his friends. The familiar weight of rejection sinks into your stomach when you see their faces. But before the rest can speak, the blond boy says, “Okay.” The others stare at him, but he continues before they can interject. “We can’t just wear our regular clothes or our uniforms.” His voice is halting, as if unused to voicing his opinion so openly. “I honestly hadn’t even thought of it. It’ll make the show even more impressive, r-right?”

Wooyoung laughs, high-pitched and unrestrained. “Yeosang, you’re adorable. What do you think, Hongjoong?”

“It’s a group decision.” He surveys the table, each person nodding in agreement, or shrugging with indifference. “Alright then. Welcome aboard, Mono.”

“Thank you,” you say breathlessly. 

“We should introduce ourselves properly then,” Hongjoong says. He stands and reaches over Mingi’s broad shoulders to shake your hand. “Kim Hongjoong.”

“The club leader,” Wooyoung finishes for him, a statement that makes Hongjoong roll his eyes. “I’m Jung Wooyoung.”

The other tall boy introduces himself as Jeong Yunho, smiling with full cheeks and large eyes, making height the only physical similarity between himself and Mingi. The next to tell you his name is Park Seonghwa, with a soft voice that suits his feminine features and softly curled black hair. Choi Jongho is the boy with the rough, strong hands, and Choi San smiles as he shakes your hands, making you feel guilty for thinking his sharp, handsome features were intimidating. Song Mingi grunts out his introduction, but you're too elated at this sudden change of fortune to mind his obvious dislike for you. 

“Kang Yeosang,” says the boy with blond hair. You take his hand across the table and shake. Now that you’re looking directly at him, you notice the red blemish that colors the top of his left cheekbone and eyelid. If he notices you looking, it doesn’t appear to bother him. Of course, he has nothing to be embarrassed about; Yeosang’s beauty is striking, otherworldly, so much so that you break eye contact first. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” You feel the need to introduce yourself again, properly this time, as they have. You’re so unused to saying your name that your words come out stuttered and awkward. “And my name is Mono. Thank you for letting me join. I promise I will work hard.”

“What’s your family name?” Wooyoung asks, resting his chin on his hand.

“It’s-” Like a fool, your mouth hovers open. Why is something so simple escaping your head? “It’s Kim.”

A sickly feeling of unease settles into your stomach while the boys descend into conversation about the festival. No matter how hard you try, you can’t think of your family name. You’ve only ever used your given name to sign your homework, you’ve never received any mail with it displayed on the front, and no teachers have ever addressed you at all, let alone by your last name. It must be written at home on a bank statement or bill somewhere, right? Or the school would have it on record. There’s no way you don’t have a last name.

Unable to answer any of these questions, you take out your notebook and focus on the conversation, copying down dates, names of songs, and anything you might need to know. The school summer festival (that had previously escaped your attention) is only two weeks away. Preparations are almost finished in terms of the boys’ routines, but Hongjoong emphasizes the need to be perfect at every junction. 

“We aren’t content to be small-town celebrities, right?” he says, the group answering in the negative. “Then we treat this seriously, we work hard, and we show everyone that we refuse to be forgotten as if we never existed.”

The bell rings to signal the end of lunch and the boys groan, dragging themselves from their seats and hauling their bags over their shoulders. 

“Mono.” Yeosang touches your arm. “Could you meet me after school?”

You master your shock with difficulty “Why?”

“There’s more to talk about, and I need to show you where we practice.”

You nod and stare dumbly after him as he catches up to his friends.

For the rest of the day, you sit under the shade of the oak tree in the schoolyard, running your fingers over the short, warm grass between its roots. Your class is in the middle of a gym lesson, swimming in the school’s outdoor pool that’s attached to the building. No one told you about the rotation of sports, so you didn’t bring a swimsuit, not that you think you have one. You find yourself staring at them in jealousy, but the promise of meeting Yeosang after school comforts you a little.

Things are changing. 

When the school day comes to an end, you leap to your feet, and snatch up your things, standing on the roots of the tree to get a better view of the students leaving the building. You know Yeosang will be one of the last people out since he’s on the third floor, but you can’t help craning your neck the second the doors spill open. The excitement you feel is a welcome distraction. You would give anything to worry about nothing but school festivals and dreams of being a performer for a while. Anything other than acknowledging that something very wrong is going on in this place. 

“You waited,” Yeosang says as if pleasantly surprised. 

“I did. What did you want to talk about?”

“Come with me, we can talk on the way.”

“Is it far?”

“Not too far.” He gestures for you to follow him to the bike shelter where he fishes his own from the rows of others. “It’ll be faster if you sit on the back.”

“Oh, okay.” You lower yourself as gently as you can manage onto the cargo rack over the back wheel. “Yeosang, I think I’m going to fall off.”

He chuckles, swinging his leg over the seat. “No, you won’t. You can hold onto my shoulders.” He coughs. “If you want.”

Necessity overrides embarrassment at this moment, so you allow your hands to take hold of Yeosang’s shoulders. 

He’s warm. Real. 

“I’m going to push off, so hold on.”

The sudden jolt forces you to hold tighter. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, just make sure you don’t fall.”

You nod, realizing you’ve fallen against his back, arms around his neck. When Yeosang leaves the busy traffic of the yard and the lane outside the school, you manage to find your balance, gaining enough confidence to go back to simply having your hands on his shoulders. 

“So,” you say clumsily, unused to maintaining a conversation, “are we going to the place you guys practice in?”

“We are. I’m sorry for being vague, it’s just that I’m a little proud of it, so I want it to be a surprise.”

“Ah, I see. Then I won’t ask any more questions.”

“Can I ask you a question?” His shoulders tense under your hands.

“Of course.”

“Why- I’m sorry if this comes across as rude- why does everyone treat you so strangely?”

It’s your turn to tense up. “Strange?”

“I’m sorry, I’m being rude-”

“No please, what do you mean by treating me strangely?”

“I’m not sure. I only recently noticed it when you came to talk to us, but everyone else treats you like… well, like you aren’t there.” He looks over his shoulder, causing the bike to swerve momentarily before he regains control. “But I’m not- I mean- I’m not saying it’s your fault. I just wondered if you were being bullied or something-”

“I don’t know, Yeosang. It’s always been like this. It’s not a big deal, really.”

“Of course it is. If you’re being bullied, me and the others can help.”

Coming from his mouth, it seems obvious now that it’s more than bullying or a vendetta against your family, but how do you explain? 

You shake your head and hear Yeosang sigh quietly.

The brakes squeal as the bike draws to a stop. “We’re here.”

You look up. In front of you is a tall iron gate, the green paint flaking off and littering the dirt underneath. One side of it has come off the hinges, lying against the fence in a bed of grass so that you can see all the way inside the compound. Tracing the path of crushed grass, you see the single building housed within the fence. Given the industrial look of the place with its concrete walls, the steel girders piled to the side of the entrance, and the ancient, rusted van far to the right, you think it must have been a factory. 

The waist-high grass licks against your forearms as you are drawn down the path by the desire to explore. 

Yeosang unlocks the doors and gestures for you to enter. The inside of the factory is cavernous, with ceilings at least three stories high. Indecipherable systems of pulleys and cranes occupy the space, and a set of stairs leads to a single cube of a room in the corner of the factory, one wall taken up by an enormous window that must once have allowed a supervisor to look over the work being done. However, it is not all hard concrete and metal. There is a corner of the floor taken up by a beaten-up couch and a few armchairs, a similarly abused Persian rug sits under a coffee table laden with mugs, empty food containers, and a forgotten hoodie. You find other touches of the presence of the group- a pair of shoes, a radio, a cassette player, a kitchenette that must have once been used for break time messy with dishes and trash. And finally, against the east wall, is a mirror so large it displays the entire floor. It’s webbed with cracks and marred by black splotches, but, coming closer, you see eight names written in the corner. 

Hongjoong

Seonghwa

Yunho

Yeosang

San

Mingi

Wooyoung 

Jongho

Eight makes one team!

“I love it,” you say, reaching out to touch the glass. “How did you find this place?”

“It’s my dad’s.”

“Your dad’s?”

“Mm.” Yeosang lowers himself into one of the couches, but he can’t seem to make himself comfortable. “He’s probably forgotten about it, though. No one comes here but us.”

“What does he do?”

“Property development. Or was it real estate? I can’t remember.” You come to sit opposite him in one of the armchairs, tucking your legs underneath you. “What about your parents?”

“Sales,” you throw out vaguely, no longer jarred by the fact you can’t remember such basic details when such questions arise. 

“Do you see them much?”

“Not really."

Yeosang nods. “Why have kids if you never bother to see them, right?” He clears his throat. “Anyway, do you want to hear the songs we’ll be performing?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

Yeosang hurries to place a cassette in the cassette player and starts the track. It’s music you’ve never heard before, but it’s fast and upbeat, and even to someone as inexperienced as you, you can tell that it would be easy to dance to. As you listen, you write down whatever words or concepts that come into your head that suit the themes of the lyrics.

“Well, anyway…” Yeosang says shyly once the song is over, “that’s one of them.”

“It’s good. Can I see the dance too?”

“The- but I can’t- on my own… It’s too embarrassing.”

It’s strange to witness such a handsome person acting so shyly, but you’re growing to find his habits endearing. “It’s okay, I’ll see it later.”

He nods, relieved. “We’ll all be here after school tomorrow for practice. You can see it then.”

In companionable silence, you listen to the next two songs one after the other, making notes as you do. The second is more sensual, slower, and darker, and the third is aggressive and rough, but almost desperate too. You can’t help but notice movement in the corner of your vision. Yeosang seems to be unaware that his body is moving to the music. You smile down at your notes. 

“Thank you for bringing me here today,” you say once the last track ends, standing before the doors of the factory. “And thank you for letting me join the group, if you didn’t say anything, I think the others would have said no.”

Yeosang chews on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry about them. They aren’t bad guys, and they don’t have anything against you personally, we've all just been going through a lot lately. Jongho got injured a while ago, and Mingi and Wooyoung keep fighting… Hongjoong’s trying to keep us all together but…”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“That’s partly why I want to do this festival, even if it’s silly. We need something to keep us going, you know? A goal. Or a purpose.”

“Belonging,” you say quietly. “Yeosang, why did you let me into the group?”

His smile is sad. “I know what it feels like to not belong. The guys gave that to me, so I wanted to give it to you, too.” 

Seeing your eyes fill with tears, Yeosang panics. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

When he puts his hands on your shoulders, you lean forward against his chest, unable to resist the warmth of another human being. It’s like taking a warm bath after weeks of walking in the desert. His heartbeat against your cheek, his breath moving your hair, his voice rumbling through his body as he asks if you’re okay- this is human life, human touch. He is real and he is holding you as tightly as you’re holding him. 

“I’m sorry, Yeosang,” you whisper, “I’ve been going through a lot too.”

He pats the top of your hair awkwardly. “It’s okay.”

You disentangle yourself from him and rub your face. “I got your shirt wet. I’m sorry.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry about it. Hey, do you live far away? It’s getting dark so I’ll take you home.”

You accept gratefully and climb on the back of his bicycle. The country roads feel different traveling them with Yeosang, his weight steadying you over the bumps and around the bends, his hair turning golden as the sun sets. Though you don’t speak other than to give him directions, the silence is far from uncomfortable.

“We’re here.”

Yeosang drags his feet against the dirt to slow the bike, reaching back with one arm to make sure you don’t fall off. Your single-story house sits beyond a short wooden fence, looking as tired and uncared for as it does on the inside. Suddenly, the sight of it fills you with shame and you almost trip over yourself in your haste to climb off the bike. You don’t want Yeosang to see such a sad place. He’s already shown you so much kindness, you don’t think you could take his pity. 

“Thank you so much,” you say quickly. “I’ll see you after school tomorrow?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Oh, sure. Same place?”

You nod, already lifting the latch for the gate.

“Mono?”

“Yes?”

“Just in case you weren’t sure, you can sit with us at lunch.” He rubs the back of his neck. “If you like.”

You undress for bed, throwing your uniform over the back of a chair, sighing when you remember the load of laundry you have to do. 

You throw everything inside the drum, checking the worn pockets of your shirt to make sure there is nothing inside when you remember: there’s a name tag sewed into the collar of it. You saw it on the first day of school when you dressed. There’s no last name, just ‘MONO’ written in red thread on the label.

A frightening thought occurs to you: if you hadn’t seen the label that day, would you even know your own name?

#ateez yeosang #yeosang x reader #ateez #yeosang #jongho #wooyoung #hongjoong #yeosang reader #yeosang x you #yeosang x named reader #seonghwa #san #yunho #mingi #suggestive content #fanfic

[casspurrjoybell-20]

Blueberry Muffins - Chapter 16b

*Warning Adult Content*

Attack - Part 2

"Wren."

‘Joshua. Of course, he's the one to come to my rescue.’

"It hurts," Wren Rivera grits out, squeezing his eyes shut again.

He felt a warm hand run through his hair but it brushed against his head wound, making him flinch. It paused, pulling away from his hair to pull his shirt up. 

"The rogue tore up your back. What happened?"

"Wren and I were washing the dishes when the rogues appeared. I tried to fight them off so Wren could get help but a rogue clawed his back and pushed him to the ground. I lost track of them after that," Wren heard Aurora fill in for him and he was grateful.

His brain felt fuzzy like he wasn't present anymore. It was getting harder and harder to understand what was going on. He was turned onto his side and he saw Joshua looking down at him but he looked blurry. Wren almost wanted to laugh but that quickly faded away when someone brushed his back.

"We need to get them both medical attention. Wren's bleeding from the head and Aurora's wrist looks broken," someone else said.

From there, things became fuzzier. Someone lifted Wren up and he was carried somewhere. The feel of leather helped him to realize it was a car. But after that, he couldn't focus enough to stay fully conscious.

Wren opened his eyes to find himself in a bed. His head was bandaged and he was turned on his stomach. The first thing his eyes met was Joshua's worried face but it relaxed when he noticed Wren was awake.

"You're okay," he whispered and Wren noticed the red rimming Joshua’s eyes.

"Were you crying?" Wren asked in a whisper of his own.

Wren’s concentration was still lightly scattered but it was getting better. Given their quickened healing abilities as werewolves, he knew he'd be okay. He just needed some time to heal and rest up, he had no doubt he gave himself a concussion. Joshua looked away bashfully. 

"Maybe," the Beta mumbled. 

"I was worried. We just found each other. I didn't want to lose you."

Wren’s stomach did a little somersault at his words. 

‘He was so corny. It was still odd, but more endearing now.’ 

"I'm fine," Wren told him.

Joshua breathed out. They both then focused their attention on the door as it opened. 

"Oh, Wren's awake."

"Hi, Mark," Wren greeted, his eyelids weighing down for a moment.

"Hey. Glad to see you're doing alright."

Wait. His eyes popped back open. 

"Are we in your pack?" Wren asked Joshua.

His mate nodded. 

"Yeah. It was the only option we had. You and Aurora took some damage."

"What happened to Aurora? Where is she?"

“She's okay. She's with Ryder and the others. The doctor set her wrist and checked her scratches to make sure they wouldn't get infected. Everyone else is alright."

After that, Wren closed his eyes again for a quick nap. A couple of hours later, the doctor came in and Joshua helped Wren sit up while the doctor talked with him. His back and head both felt a lot better but they still ached if he moved too suddenly. The doctor left after telling him to be careful and rest up for at least a few days, just to make sure his concussion fully went away. The entire time, Joshua was right there.

"Be careful," he, reaching out to grab Wren’s arm as he slowly stood up.

"I didn't hurt my legs, Joshua. I'm okay," Wren reminded him with a small smile.

Joshua didn't let go even after Wren was fully stood and instead slipped his hand down to intertwine with his. His other hand reached up to brush his mate’s hair away from his face. 

"I'm glad you're okay," he murmured.

"Yeah, I'm glad you're okay too. The attack was so... sudden."

Joshua sighed. 

"Yeah, it really was. We were lucky we had so many powerful wolves present. And Aurora was amazing holding them off for us to get there."

Wren frowned lightly, trying to grasp at a thought that kept popping up in the back of his head. But every time he thought he had it, it disappeared. It was frustrating and he hoped he could remember soon, whatever it was, it felt urgent. Wren closed his eyes for a moment, feeling exhausted despite sleeping for so long.

"We should get some food in you and get you back to bed," Joshua said.

Wren nodded slowly, his eyes still closed. He heard Joshua laugh a bit so he peeked his eyes open again. 

"Don't laugh."

Joshua cracked a grin. 

"I'm sorry, you're just really cute."

Warmth flooded Wren’s cheeks as he looked away. 

‘It was weird hearing that from him. I had to keep reminding myself that he was my mate. It still felt so weird but a good weird. I was happy that I found my mate and he accepted me.’

They left the room after that and Joshua lead them into what seemed to be a common room. So they were in the Whitewater pack house. It was kind of odd knowing Joshua lived here. He'd been around for so long that Wren almost forgot he was the future Beta of a different pack.

"Wren."

The young man looked over to see everyone seated on some couches. They all stood up and walked over to Wren and Joshua.

"We were worried," Aurora said with a frown.

Wren glanced down at her wrist, wincing. 

"Me? You're the one with the broken bones."

"I'm glad to see that you all are doing well," a voice spoke up.

"Alpha Kristen, thank you for allowing us to stay here for a bit," Erin said, dipping his head in respect.S

The tall she-wolf smiled lightly. 

"As if I'd turn you all away. You're more than welcome to stay until those two heal completely."

She then turned to look at Wren and Aurora, a look of shock crossing her face when she noticed her son’s Beta holding the young man’s hand. Her eyes moved up to look at Joshua. 

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" 

Was all she said. Joshua looked down bashfully, fully aware of what she was asking. 

"I'm sorry, Alpha, it was a bit complicated. I couldn't explain it at the time. But it's okay now. In fact, I think I might be able to come home soon," he said.

At Joshua’s words, a sudden realization hit Wren. 

"Wait..."

Joshua turned to look at him, confusion written all over his face. 

"What's wrong?"

"Joshua, I can't leave my pack."

And just when Wren thought everything was going so well. 

‘Darn it.’

[jongseongsnudes]

four.

warning; 🤔🤔🤔 1.1k words

masterlist.

“so if you add the top and bottom here, you’ll get the answer-”

“are you going to the snow trip tomorrow?” niki suddenly interrupts, his eyes now focused on you, “you are, right?”

“yeah... why?”

“nothing. just asking,” he replies with a slight smile but you shrug it off and continue on with whatever you were teaching him.

it’s not long before you notice him losing focus again, his eyes staring far into space with the softest smile on his lips like he was day dreaming about rainbows and butterflies. you can’t help but chuckle at him, who despite being the most popular boy in school, is sitting right beside you, looking like a literal child.

“okay that should be enough for today,” you begin to pack your belongings into your bag but instead of doing the same, niki blankly stares at you instead, like you had done something wrong. “wh- what is it? why are you staring at me?”

“why are you packing? we have twenty minutes left.”

“we’ve been through enough content today,” you throw him a quick thumbs up and continue to pack your things, “besides, i need to get home and pack. it’s a whole weekend trip. have you even packed?”

“no. i don’t care about that, unless you want to pack for me?” the boy raises his brows amusingly but you only return the look with a death glare, earning yourself a rather hearty laugh.

“you wish nishimura. whatever, i have to go.”

“fine. don’t forget to pack the thickest jacket you have, it’s going to be cold.”

well no shit, you wanted to reply to him but the words fail to leave your lips when you come to realise that niki nishimura was perhaps... worried about you.

“hey.”

your head perks up from the "ski trip responsibility" clipboard in your hands to the sudden voice, only to see jj, a cute boy in your grade who’s part of the basketball team and the class president in his class. you’ve only spoken to the boy perhaps ten times in your high school life time from council meetings but you know he’s a nice kid.

“hi, is there something i can help you with?” you ask with a polite smile, wondering why he had approached you so suddenly.

“is there something i could help you with? i know the teachers must’ve dumped a lot of responsibilities on you for this trip,” the tall boy smiles back in response, your heart almost popping out of your chest at the sight. although you don’t have a crush on him in any way, you definitely know a cute boy when you see one. 

“oh- i’m okay for now but i’ll let you know if anything. thanks, jj.”

the boy simply nods at you with a grin before walking back towards his friend group, leaving you to go back to your never ending checklist.

“i didn’t know you guys talked,” niki appears beside you out of the blue, almost scaring the living day light out of you. his eyes are trained entirely on jj walking away, his brows raised curiously, “do you know him?”

“well yeah? he’s in our grade. you know him too.”

“not like that!” he suddenly yells at you, frustration filling his voice but you’re not sure why. a few others students had also turned their heads, curious at the commotion but niki doesn’t seem too fazed about it. instead, his entire attention diverts down to you. “like how do you know- ah! nevermind!”

you awkwardly watch the annoyed boy storm off as quickly as he appeared, wondering why on earth he was suddenly so angry.

what did you even do...

after what seemed like hours of last minute check ups and making sure all the students were present and their luggage securely stored away, everyone finally boarded the buses. of course you end up sitting in the front with your responsibility clipboard like usual but with jj joining you too, after another teacher had also given him a clipboard.

be a class president, it’ll be heaps of fun, they said...

at first you thought it would’ve been awkward, having to spend a whole three hour bus ride with a boy you barely knew but his sweet personality and numerous attempts at being funny made you feel weirdly comfortable.

you can definitely see why lots of people have crushes on this boy.

*ding ding*

[NEW MESSAGE: NISHIMURA NIKI 3:30 LIBRARY]

hi

your face scrunches in confusion at the random text, thinking maybe it was intended for someone else. so you ignore it. however, not even a minute later and your phone dings again with yet another message from the same person. and another. and another.

[NEW MESSAGE: NISHIMURA NIKI 3:30 LIBRARY]

hi

hi

why are you ignoring me miss class president?

helloooo

“is everything okay?” jj asks you, his face full of concern after seeing your very confused face.

“ah- yes of course. spam messages.”

the three hours flew by like a total blur with the constant screaming and fighting from the other students on the bus. but besides the headache, you were relieved to finally arrive at the snow resort without anyone going missing or losing a limb along the way.

as everyone began to head into the reception with their bags, you’re left to do last minute check ups on the bus before doing the same with your own bags.

“seems like you had fun.”

“oh my god! you scared me niki!” you puff in surprise at the sudden appearance of the tall footballer again, seemingly from out of nowhere. “why aren’t you with everyone else inside the lobby? you’re not supposed to wonder away from the group.”

“you didn’t reply to me so i wanted to make sure you weren’t lost somewhere, miss class president,” he says nonchalantly while rolling his eyes like he couldn’t care less about conversing with you.

“i- i didn’t check my phone,” what a lie. “but why are you even texting me?”

“what? can’t- can’t i text you?” he stutters, his eyes awkwardly glancing all over the place, everywhere but at you. you watch as the he suddenly reaches out to poke at your jacket, a frown immediately appearing on his face, “didn’t i tell you to bring a thick jacket? this is so thin?”

“it’s the thickest i have!”

“stupid...” he mutters underneath his breath before rolling his eyes yet again. “whatever. get sick for all i care!”

and the boy storms away from you for the second time today, leaving you in total confusion... yet again.

what the hell was his problem today...

end.

taglist; @i-dalso @wony6ung @jeonjungkookkk @j4yluvr​ @soobsbby @astra-line​  @drunkanddazedalways @shine-your-light ​ @02zprotector ​ @yabukkura ​ @sonmil @byunhoebaek @artgukkx @nowrosesaredead @lhsng @abdiitcryy @hwasatiny @uuvjungwon @dehydratedami @enhasengene @enhacolor @my5colors @kyutiepeachyhyy @miiiwaa @miixsh @vantxx95 @jakespecs @outrologist @9900z @axartia @yuakagi @bunhoons @3nh4luvr @duckieanon @manaswi-madhusudan @skylaryoung2002 @lix-freckle3 @uuwonnie @emoworu @kyoyangwon @taekbokki @sunshine-skz @paolennenicole @cherryblushtzy @carateum1

- @jongseongsnudes

#the enha universe #enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen scenario #enhypen imagine #enhypen fic #enhypen drabble #enhypen reaction #enhypen niki #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #riki nishimura #niki imagine #niki fic #niki fanfic #niki x reader #enhypen riki #riki drabble #riki x reader #riki fluff #nishimura niki #niki nishimura #niki scenario #niki; bad boy #jongseongsnudes #niki nishimura fluff

[ilyluffy]

𝒯𝑅𝒜𝐼𝒩 ~ 𝑅𝐼𝒟𝐸𝒮

riding the train with the jujustu kaisen characters

includes: itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + gojo satoru + nanami kento + fushiguro toji

genre: fluff

warnings: big crowds, mentions of creepy dudes, toji being a bastard

itadori yuji

yuji tries to keep you as comfortable as possible when you ride the train. it can get crowded so he tries to keep you in a place away from the hoard of people. meanwhile he’s holding your hand to keep you steady. yuji also reminds you that if you need anything you give that same hand a squeeze and you’ll have his attention. to keep you both occupied, yuji will share his head phones with you so you can listen to his music along with him. ever so often he turns to you and flashes you a goofy grin or crack a joke. it’s a little way yuji tries to reassure you or remind you that he’s still there.

fushiguro megumi

megumi wants to make sure you don’t rumple over when you’re riding the train together but he also doesn’t want to be TOO touchy. so instead he places your hand on the small of your back. if you ever start to lose your balance megumi will grab hold of the back of your shirt. if he catches any creeps staring at you, megumi will send them the scariest glare so no one messes with you when he’s around. instead of pointing out any weird dudes and making you uncomfortable, megumi will ask you about his day. he won’t talk much but he enjoys listening to you during the trip.

gojo satoru

gojo isn’t shy about keeping you close when the two of you have to take the train. cheekily he throws his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close. trust that he’ll probably tease you if you get flustered cover the close proximity. to entertain you, but more so himself, gojo will probably start rambling on about something. he’s a bit obnoxious but at least it’s something for you to focus on. you won’t have to worry too much about the crowd of people because gojo will use his infinity to make sure you both of plenty of personal space.

nanami kento

if there is one thing you can be sure is that nanami makes it is priority to look after you during your commute. with an arm snaked around your waist, nanami holds you close to prevent you from falling or being bothered by anyone else on the train. if the ride is particularly rough or bumpy, you can grab hold of nanami’s tie for support. he seems rather stoic the entire journey. the only time nanami speaks is to ask how you’ve been or what you wanted to do that evening.

fushiguro toji

toji is shameless, even when you’re on the public train. his favourite way to hold on to you is by stick his hand in the back pocket of your jeans. if your attention ever averts from him toji will give your butt a little squeeze with a smirk. “hey, eyes on me. you were supposed to be telling me about your day”. majority of the ride is just toji trying to fluster you. he can’t help it. it’s his favourite thing to do and he has to do something to make the ride go by a little faster.

tags: @jahnvi-d / @leighbechilling / @spookykoko / @little-miss-chaoss / @manjiroarchiviste / @inu1gf / @pretty-pop-princess-hs / @kennyb0y / @devinsdaydreams / @bontens-whore / @sisnot / @portfolio-of-dreams / @dejwrites / @iwaizumisbicep / @rinsie / @dessceased / @aces-high / @p-antomime / @kisekihany / @ry0m3n / @simp-lauren / @sugusshi / @gh0stcave

2022 © h-shibas — do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome

#itadori yuji #fushiguro megumi #gojo satoru #nanami kento #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk headcanon #jjk imagine #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji headcanon #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi headcanon #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru headcanon #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento headcanon #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji headcanon #apollo writes ✎

[eepy-pleepy]

It’s Not Everest (No Vacancy)

The neon “NO” is hidden behind an overgrown shrub, so Dean pulls the Impala into the motel parking lot before they can see that it is, in fact, lit.

“Awesome.” Dean says in a tone that clearly doesn’t think so, and whips the car around to pull back onto the dark road. They immediately hit a pothole and Sam’s head bumps the ceiling.

“Ow, wait, Dean, we didn't go check with the office, maybe they just left the sign lit because they can’t freaking see it–”

“No, Sam, every goddamn motel in this godless town is full up and I don’t particularly feel like walking into another musty fucking office just to have them tell me I need to learn how to read. It’s too damn late, I’m too damn tired, I’m just gonna find a pull-off where the cops won’t feel the need to be our 5AM wake-up call and we’re sleeping in Baby. Fuck it.” He emphasizes the last sentence by throwing the car into park, all seventeen feet of shiny black metal successfully hidden behind a bank of tall, scraggly shrubs off the shoulder of the road. Dean kills the engine and the early summer evening rises to fill the silence with the musical stylings of several hundred crickets.

“Dean.”

“We’ve done it before, Sam.”

“I know we have. What about Cas?”

Dean looks over at the passenger’s side. Sitting shotgun, Cas looks back at him, his eyes just a dark glint in the moonlight.

“I can just... keep watch outside.” He says.

“Bad fucking idea.” Dean snaps. “I wake up in the middle of the night and see you out there lurking, I might shoot you between the eyes. You’re staying in the damn car.”

“Dean, there’s not enough roo–”

“Look, Sammy, passing out is passing out, sitting or lying down. This is a molehill, not Everest. I just need my four hours, damn.”

Dean crams up against the driver’s side door, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his bent knees against the back of the seat between himself and Cas. He’ll worry about bootprints on the leather upholstery when he isn’t so fucking exhausted.

“Jerk.” Sam mutters from the backseat, almost inaudible.

“Goodnight, bitch.”

“Goodnight, Dean. Sam.” Cas murmurs.

“Don’t make it weird, Cas.”

"Goodnight, Cas."

"Thank you, Sam."

Dean gives a little huff through his nose. Cas folds his hands in his lap and turns his head forward to watch the fireflies.

Dean doesn’t like it when Cas watches him sleep. Cas knows this.

But if he doesn't want eyes on him, he shouldn’t be drawing so much attention to himself. This is the fourth time inside of an hour that he’s shifted around, clearly uncomfortable with his sleeping arrangement, six feet of full-grown man trying to figure out how to make three feet work for him.

It's clearly not working out.

Dean's head has fallen against Castiel’s arm. He’s snoring gently, Cas can feel his breath warm through the sleeve of his trench coat.

He shuts his eyes. Pulls his focus down to just this, the upper lefthand side of his body. Feels the weight of Dean's head, the unyielding shape of his skull, the softness of his cheek. Cas turns his head towards him, just to better assess the situation. Not at all to feel the soft tickle of Dean’s hair against his nose and lips. That’s just an... accidental consequence.

Cas feels too big for his own skin. It’s something a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent should be entirely familiar with, but this isn't the feeling of cramming a Chrysler building into a 5-foot-11-inch frame.

This is bigger than that.

The slump of Dean’s body across the seat means that his head is the only thing supported, and it has his neck at a bad angle. If Dean's an angry sleeper, he's even worse with a crick in his neck and Cas doesn't love the idea of being stuck in a car with that tomorrow. He can't pull Dean more flush against his side without the risk of waking him and sending him into a conniption of bruised heterosexuality, so instead, he carefully lifts his arm. It works perfectly: Dean slides forward, falling to lying down with his head in Cas' lap.

The effect is immediate. The uncomfortable pinch between Dean's brows smooths away and he takes a deep, slow breath, settling against his new pillow and sinking into an easier sleep.

Cas hasn't realized he's smiling, yet. It's a tiny, soft thing, the one he gets when he's looking at something precious.

He is.

The moonlight catches the sweep of Dean's eyelashes, the top of his cheek, the shell of his ear, gilding them silver. His lips are parted, plush and dark in the contrast of the pale light. He's slightly curled up on the bench seat and Cas knows it's to fit the small space but that doesn't mean it's not the most fucking endearing thing he's ever seen.

The short hair over Dean's ear is mussed from the way he was slumped like a grumpy turtle past the collars of his shirt and jacket. Delicate, Cas brushes it right again.

Dean shifts, pressing up into his ghost of a touch. Cas draws back, afraid he's been caught doing something definitely not on Dean's approved list of Things Just Friends Do, but Dean doesn't wake. Cas' hand hovers.

He shouldn't. He should return to looking out of the front windshield and prepare the diffusion for when Dean wakes up to find himself sleeping in Cas' lap. That's what he should do.

The trouble is, nothing short of a fucking catastrophe could pull his eyes away from this. Dean is so beautiful, so calm and easy in his slumber, and he's right here, safe and close and warm. Literally right in his lap.

Cas pets Dean's hair, feeling that dangerous constriction again, something so huge and profound it might very well burst him. Dean sleeps on.

"You should tell him."

Sam's voice from the backseat is so quiet it's barely a whisper, but it startles Cas like a gunshot. He turns his head a margin to find Sam watching him, head and shoulders against the back driver's side door, arms crossed over his chest.

"Did you say something?" Cas tries, matching Sam's barely-there whisper.

"You heard me."

"Tell him what?"

"You love him."

Cas turns his head further so he's not just looking at Sam out of his periphery. There's nothing accusatory in Sam's tone, quiet as it is, or in his posture, cramped as it may be. He looks back at Cas with nothing but the same easy camaraderie he's always shown him, like they're discussing a good book or the lovely weather, not a complete paradigm shift.

In his lap, Dean tucks one hand under Cas' thigh and nuzzles his face deeper against the fabric of his pants. Cas looks down at him again and feels ready to explode into several new galaxies.

"I can't." He breathes.

"Why not?"

"You know your brother, Sam.” Cas says, unable to stop himself from stroking light fingers through Dean’s hair again. “And I’m happy. I refuse to risk losing him in pursuit of something I don’t need from him.”

“You’re right, I do know my brother. Probably better than he’d like to believe.” Sam says. “And I think he might surprise you, given the chance.”

Cas looks back at Sam like he wants to argue, but then just closes his mouth, his jaw bunching. Sam gives a little shrug and sits forward, reaching behind himself for the door handle.

“Just some, uh… food for thought.” He says. “I’m gonna hit the head. I’ll take my time. No particular reason.”

“Sam.”

But Sam’s already unfolding out into the night air, the car rocking as his weight shifts. The crickets are suddenly much louder, invading their little bubble of quiet. In Cas’ lap, Dean twitches.

Sam shuts the car door and Dean sits bolt upright. His gun, dropped in the footwell before he fell asleep, is in his grasp in a blink.

“Sam's just gone to relieve his bladder.” Cas says next to him. Dean squints at him and sniffs, wiping at his groggy eyes, then flicks the safety back on. The gun hits the footwell again with a dull thunk.

"God. Like a damn cashew. You'd think with all that height there'd be more... storage."

Cas is carefully looking forward, and not at the red mark on Dean’s cheek that’s the same shape as the warm spot rapidly cooling on his thigh. Dean rubs at that side of his face.

“Was I…?” He clears his throat. “Uh.”

“Asleep? Yes. I thought that was the idea.”

“Lying on you.”

“You needed to stretch out.”

Dean gives a frustrated sigh. “No, Cas, man, that’s your personal space. You should have shoved me off.”

“It was easier on your neck.” Cas says, still looking straight ahead. “You weren’t bothering me.”

“That’s not the point. You gotta have boundaries.”

“What’s mine is yours, Dean. I have no qualms sharing everything I have with you.”

Dean scoffs, leaning forward over the steering wheel and tilting to pop his spine. “Jesus. You ol’ romantic.”

Cas turns his head to look at Dean. The slightly uncomfortable smirk slowly slips off of Dean’s face. His eyes drop to Cas' lips before he catches himself, and he makes a weak attempt to laugh the charge out of the air between them.

“Man, you gotta figure out your levels. Last person who looked at me like that had me thinking marriage."

“Dean, why do you say things like that?”

Dean’s shoulders shove up under his ears. “You turn eyes like that on some innocent girl she’s gonna up and devote her entire life to you, Cas, I’m just letting you know you gotta tone it down!”

“Why would I turn eyes like this on some innocent girl?”

“Because you’re doin’ it to me like you think it’s a normal thing to do!”

“Dean, maybe you need to figure out how to receive a signal without assuming the other person isn't aware of what they're broadcasting." Cas snaps, then subsides as something like fear flickers across his face.

Dean’s jaw hangs uselessly for a stunned moment.

"Cas. You–"

Cas watches him in the manner of a gazelle waiting for a sudden deadly movement. Dean's gaze flits to Cas’ lips again.

"You. Uh." He says eloquently, and his tongue darts out in a nervous motion. This makes his lips impossible to ignore, shiny and wet in the moonlight.

“It's not Everest." Cas whispers.

"It kinda fuckin' is." Dean says, hoarse.

“Forget it. You should go back to sleep.” Cas says, reaching towards Dean with two fingers. It’s his fighter’s instinct that makes Dean grab them before they can touch his forehead, but it’s something else entirely that bunches his other hand in the front of Cas’ coat and yanks him forward. Cas tumbles gracelessly on top of Dean, and Dean doesn’t give either of them time to think.

At the first touch of Dean’s lips, Cas melts. A tiny sound escapes him, not quite a sigh, not quite a moan, and he’s grasping Dean’s shoulder like it’s the only thing preventing him from falling into the footwell. Their mouths part with a soft, wet noise and Cas meets Dean’s eyes, almost too close to focus on.

His arm is pressed across Dean’s chest from his fall. He can feel Dean’s heartbeat, galloping like an outlaw with the sheriff on his tail, and he understands the feeling.

“Dean.” He croaks.

“Yeah.”

“Do that again.”

Dean nuzzles their noses together, nudges Cas’ mouth in a barely-there brush of lips. Cas touches Dean’s face, dizzy with it, feeling stubble rough on the skin of Dean's jaw. He presses forward, holding Dean’s face like the beloved thing it is, and kisses him reverently. Dean sinks against the door until he’s lying across the seats and shoves his arms up under Cas’ suit jacket, encircling his back.

The crickets play them a love song. It’s entirely lost on them.

When Sam returns, approaching the Impala with caution, he finds his brother asleep with his angel hugged against him like a large, man-shaped teddy bear. Cas glances up, clocking the motion of Sam leaning over to peer through the driver’s window, and there’s a smile on his face that Sam’s never seen on him before.

If happy was what he had been, then this? This is pure, unfiltered bliss.

Sam slides carefully into the back seat and shuts the door as gently as he can.

“I’ll save my I Told You So, but only because you look so cute.” He whispers.

“Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Read on Ao3

#destiel #suptober21 #no vacancy #I had no intention to participate in this year's suptober but then #the prompt hit me like seventeen feet of vintage shiny black metal #oops #dean winchester #castiel #wren writes #ao3 #fanfiction #fic rec #destiel fic rec #idiots figure it out #first kiss #fluff #grumpy dean #deancas #one shot #short n sweet #HAPPY 11 MONTHS #destiel anniversary #destiel is canon

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

Racing Heart

Pairing  ::  Clark Kent  x  short/petite fem!Reader

Warnings  ::  Smut, Size Kink

Word Count  ::  4,265

Summary  ::  You never knew why, but whenever you were around Clark, your heart always raced.

A/N  ::  Just an fyi, I used Henry Cavill’s Clark Kent, but I used the comic book height of Clark, which is 6′3′’, versus Henry’s 6′1′’

You never quite understood why, all you knew was that your heart always started racing when you were close to Clark. It wasn’t whenever you saw him, or when you were just in the same room as him. It was only when you were able to notice how small you were compared to the 6’3’’ man. 

There were many occasions when this happened. Whenever Clark hugged you, helped you grab something on a top shelf, or even when he was standing so close to you, you two almost touched, your heart began racing. It had gotten to the point where you went out of your way to avoid getting close to the man, making sure you were always on the opposite side of the room from him.

There were three specific times though that made your face heat up just thinking about them.

-

The first one was in the break room.

You had managed to open the cabinet doors right above the refrigerator, but were struggling to grab the box of plastic utensils. You always forgot to bring a fork or spoon from home for your lunch, though you never had to worry about it because The Daily Planet had some. Of course, in an office full of tired reporters, others were bound to forget their utensils as well, and thus the box that was placed on the counter was now empty.

You stood on your tippy-toes, fingers barely grazing the corner of the box. The heels your wore offered no help, only adding a mere inch and a half to your height. You open the cabinet with ease, and a huff of annoyance left you when you saw the box of forks was on the second shelf. You had grown so frustrated, you began hopping just to try and hit the box that you now believed was taunting you. However, your hopping was working, as you managed to hit the corner repeatedly to make the box slowly come out. You didn’t care if you were wearing a skirt. It ended right before your knees and you were wearing black tights so it was fine.

You just needed one more good hop and you knew you’d be able to grab the box. You bent your knees only slightly, and then-

“Do you need some help?” A deep kind voice asked, followed by a large hand reaching past you and grabbing the box.

You whipped your entire body around, now facing a tie and button-down plaid shirt. You tilted your head up, seeing the man from Kansas, Clark Kent. He was giving you one of his classic golden boy smiles, looking down at you.

You gave him a small smile in return, and you could feel your heartbeat begin to grow faster. Perhaps Clark sneaking up behind you startled you, and he seemed to notice.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I just saw you were struggling for a bit,” He commented, holding the box out for you.

You grabbed it, thanking him quietly before a small idea popped into your head. “Were you watching me?”

You swore you saw a small tint on Clark’s cheeks as he let out a cough to clear his throat. “Um, no, I had walked by earlier and saw you struggling then, and, well, when I came back I saw you were still here so I decided to help.”

You let out a small giggle. “I’m teasing Clark.”

You saw him visibly ease up, letting out a small exhale. Little did you know he had been staring at you for a small while before he helped you. Watching you hop up and down had brought a small smile of amusement to his face. 

-

The second one was in the supply room.

Some people bought their supplies, and that was their stash. Others, such as yourself, helped themselves to the abundance of the supply room. What you had just ran out of only moments ago were sticky notes. You used them quite often, not only for notes but also for little drawings you did to pass the time. As a matter of fact, your entire desk was nearly covered with either small memos or doodles of random characters.

The sticky notes, unfortunately, were located on the top shelf. To add to your bad luck, there was also no stepping stool or ladder. Now, you could’ve been rational and go get someone taller to help. ‘Nah, I got this,’ you thought as you carefully began to climb up on the shelves. You believed in your climbing abilities, even in your heels. Admittedly, it was a bit awkward trying to grip onto the shelves, and the heels of your feet were hanging off, but you felt secure enough. 

You reached the top shelf with relative ease, only needing to step up two shelves. Then came the matter of the box of sticky notes that had yet to be open. There was no way you could open the box to grab the small number of notepads you needed, not without both hands though. You could throw the box down, but what were the chances of it breaking open and creating a mess? ‘I really should’ve thought this one through a little better,’ you regretted.

Busy thinking of how to get the sticky notes down(along with how often you found yourself in this sort of ‘you’ve made your bed now lay in it’ situations you’ve been in) you didn’t notice the door open and close once again. “(Y/N)?” 

“Wha- Ah!” You let out a squeal, losing your balance from being pulled from your train of thought. Your eyes widened and your heart froze, feeling your feet slip off along with your grip.

You squeezed your eyes shut, ready for the oncoming impact from the floor, along with the pain. Thankfully, the person who had caused your fall was quick enough to save you. Instead of feeling the hard tiled floor, you felt a pair of strong arms catch you. They held you close, almost squeezing you a bit too tight, but you felt safe in the embrace. You opened your eyes, blinking a few times to make sure you were indeed okay. You looked up to see who had caught you, your (e/c) eyes locking with blue ones behind a frame of glasses.

There was a clear worried look on Clark’s face. “You need to be careful (Y/N), you can’t just climb up shelves. If you need help, ask for it,” He continued to scold you, but you couldn’t focus on a thing he was saying.

Your heart was pounding, though you thought it was from the adrenaline of almost falling, and your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t listen to him with him still holding you, it was all your mind was focused on. His grip on you was frim, and you were so close to him you could smell his cologne, citrus with a hint of musk. You always knew you were petite in build, but being held like this made you feel tiny. ‘His arms are so big. Am I really this small? He doesn’t look like he’s struggling at all. When does he have the time to work out? How-’

“(Y/N) are you even listening to a thing I’m saying?”

You blinked once, looking at him with big eyes. “Um… You’re still holding me…” You pointed out, a small blush coming to your cheeks. Unable to look at him any longer, your eyes darted down, missing his flustered face.

He put you down quickly, apologizing, and you told him not to just as quickly in response. After, you thanked him and rushed out without even taking a single sticky note with you. Later on in the day though, when you had walked away and returned to your desk, there were two sticky note pads on your desk.

-

The third one was at a charity event.

You and Clark were assigned to the event together as it was a rather large event. The money being raised was for meta-human teens and children, to help them better understand their abilities safely.

After hearing the guest list, you knew you had to wear the one forest green dress you wore to every fancy event. It was the nicest, and expensive, dress you owned. You paired it with three-inch black heels and a simple opal pendant. You never like dressing up too much. Clark wore a simple muted dark brown suit, with a navy blue button-up and blue tie to match it.

Now, it was rather tricky to keep your distance from Clark this time, and you really didn’t want to get flustered during work. Before it was at work, now it would be during work. There was a difference, granted a small difference, but still, a difference. At work, you just minded your business, and on occasion, goofing off when you weren’t writing an article. Here you were supposed to be interviewing and taking notes of everything happening. You couldn’t miss something important because Clark wanted to dance and you couldn’t keep your mind straight after. He didn’t ask you to dance, but, if he did you’d refuse.

“So, Mr. Wayne, Mr. Queen-”

“Please, call me Oliver,” The blond said.

Before you stood Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen. You were intending to speak to Mr. Wayne alone, but just as you approached him, Mr. Queen also got to him. You were about to apologize and walk away, however, Mr. Queen, or rather, Oliver, insisted you interviewed them together. You had to admit, it was rather nice having Oliver around as Mr. Wayne, even though he was known as a playboy, gave you a rather intimidating aura. 

You began interviewing the two, asking them the same questions you had asked all the millionaires, but ended up talking with them and enjoying it. Mr. Wayne wasn’t as intimidating as he had seemed, and Oliver was rather humorous. It was clear to you the two were friends.

You were in the middle of laughing at a joke Oliver had told when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. You turned your head, seeing Clark, standing right beside you with a smile. 

“Well you most certainly are having a good time,” He commented before turning his attention to the men in front of you. “Mr. Wayne, Mr. Queen, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reached out with his free hand to shake theirs.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well…” Mr. Wayne’s voice trailed off as he looked down at Clark’s badge from the daily planet, “...Mr. Kent.”

“Call me Oliver,” He said as he shook your coworker’s hand. “I take it you two were sent together?”

“Yes,” You said in sync.

The conversation continued, and the entire time Clark kept his arm around your shoulders. You nodded along, even humming a few times in response to make it appear as if you were listening as your mind wandered. ‘Why is my heart racing? Why is he still holding me? Should I say something? What if I seem rude? I don’t want him to let go though.’ Even though you didn’t want to acknowledge it, you knew there was a small part of you that always liked how petite you were compared to Clark. 

Then, you felt his thumb begin to rub small circles onto your bare shoulder. Without thinking, you slowly leaned into his larger frame. Now, you couldn’t see it because you were still looking ahead at the two millionaires, but Clark glanced down at you, happy you had come closer.

-

You couldn’t avoid Clark forever though, despite your best efforts.

You walked down the sidewalk, holding four large reusable grocery bags each full to the brim. You lived alone, but you liked to shop in bulk so you wouldn’t have to go out often. You were struggling a fair amount though. Normally, you had a friend who’d come with you to help you out and then the two of you would hang out. Sadly, all your friends were busy for the next few days and you were beginning to run out of your favorite conditioner, not to mention you were low on food.

You didn’t drive to the grocery store either, adding to your struggle. It was only three blocks away, why waste gas? You wouldn’t be struggling much longer though.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” A male voice called out.

You stopped, eyes darting everywhere to find the owner of the voice. It took you a moment until you eventually spotted Clark in front of you, a good distance away.

“Oh, hi Clark!” You placed two of the bags down to give him a large arm wave.

It took him a moment to get to you, and when he did he looked down at your groceries puzzled. “That seems like a lot for one person to carry.”

“Yeah, I tend to bite off more than I can chew.”

“I’ve noticed,” He said with a chuckle. “Do you want some help?”

You shook your head. “No. I couldn’t possibly drag you away from your day off to help me.”

“It wouldn’t be a hassle at all,” He reassured you. “Plus, it’d eat at me all day knowing I left you struggling.”

Knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer, you let out a sigh, agreeing to his help. He took three of the bags, leaving you with the one bag filled with two bags of chips, three loaves of bread, and two dozen eggs. You tried to hold two bags, make the work even between the two of you, but he insisted. He tried to carry the bag you held as well, but you were adamant you held at least one.

Walking down to your apartment complex, the two of you mainly talked about work. At least you did, and Clark more so listened. This was the first time your heart didn’t start racing as you stood next to him, probably because you wouldn’t shut up about the deadline for your new article. You refused to look up at him, eyes fixed only on what was in front of you. It didn’t take long for the two of you to get to your apartment. You thanked him and told him he could go on with his day, but he insisted he helped you carry the bags up to your apartment.

You were quiet from then on, listening to Clark talk about the building. He lead you all away to your front door, standing patiently for you to unlock your door. Then, it hit you. You noticed his shadow over you as you faced your front door. Your heart quickened a bit, still, you ignored it as you opened your front door.

You speedily guided him to the kitchen to place the groceries down, and just as fast you tried to rush him out. His brows furrowed, confusion written all over his face.

“(Y/N), why are you in such a rush to show me out?”

‘Because I can’t think straight now with you around!’ You thought. Instead, you said to him, “Because I’m tired and I want you to enjoy your day off!”

He didn’t seem to believe you. He stood in front of you, a small frown on his lips. “Do you like me?”

Your eyes widened, mouth left ajar at his question.

“Because sometimes I get the feeling that you don’t like me.”

‘Oh-’ “What- No. I think you’re a great guy Clark.”

“Then why are you always avoiding me?” You didn’t think he had noticed. “Whenever I get close to you, you scurry off, and when you can’t you look uncomfortable.”

Like a child who had just gotten caught, you covered your face, too embarrassed to look at him. You didn’t want to tell him the real reason you were avoiding him, but, you also didn’t want him thinking you disliked him. It was the exact opposite.

“I’m not avoiding you because I don’t like you, Clark,” You said through your hands. You spread apart your fingers so you could look him in the eyes. “I… I avoid you because you’re… you’re so big.”

Now Clark was taken aback, a brow raised. “What?”

With a long exhale, you lowered your hands. “I said, I avoid you because you’re so… so big, and it makes me feel really small, and I can’t think straight.”

“You avoid me because I’m too big, and it makes you feel small, and you can’t think straight?” He repeated.

You nodded.

He was silent for a few seconds, tilting his head to the side. “In a good or bad way?”

“What?”

“In a good or bad way?”

You could feel your face heat up, and it wasn’t the only spot on you beginning to grow warm. Softly, you answered him. “In a good way, I guess.”

Clark took a step closer to you. “So you like the fact that I’m larger than you?”

“Yes, I just-”

“No.” His normally bright blue eyes seemed to darken, his eyes narrowed on you. “I want you to say it.”

You closed your legs closer together, feeling a heat rise in between your thighs. “I like that you’re so much bigger and stronger compared to me.”

Swiftly, Clark scooped you up, hands just beneath your bottom to raise you to his face. With how fast your heart was racing now you were sure he could hear it pounding in your chest. 

You looked into his eyes as you carefully took off his glasses and tossed them onto your couch. Then, you placed a hand on each side of his face and gave him a long soft kiss. He returned the kiss gently, though after a few minutes you could tell he wanted more, his kiss began to grow rough. 

You had wrapped your legs around him to be more comfortable, giving him a better grip on you. He squeezed your ass and in response you let out a soft moan. He lowered you a bit, only enough for you to feel his growing erection against your fully clothed core. He held your hips close, moving you against him for a bit of friction. You whimpered, lowering your head into his chest and gripping his dark grey shirt.

“Clark, please,” You whined.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He asked, voice deeper than usual.

You pulled your head away from his chest, nodding over in the direction of your bedroom. “Second door to the right,”

Almost hurried, he carried you straight to your bedroom. He stopped right at the edge of your bed, letting go and letting you fall back onto your mattresses. He crawled on top of you, placing a knee between your legs. Gently, he peeled away your clothes, tossing them to the side and leaving you in your underwear. He began peppering kisses around your neck, slowly moving down to your collarbone. As he did, his hand crept its way behind your back and undid the clasp on your bra. He pulled away from his kisses to watch your breasts bounce free, eyes fixed on your bare chest. 

Feeling embarrassed, you moved to cover your chest with your hands, but he pinned your hands above your head with one hand.

A low chuckle escaped him. “Aw, are you feeling shy?”

You were about to turn your head away when Clark dipped his head down, capturing your lips again. You could feel his free hand slowly trail up your side, humming as a shiver went down your spine. He cupped your breast firmly, beginning to knead it in his palm.

Small moans left your lips, arching your back, body begging for more. You already knew your panties were wet, and you needed him, but he was still fully clothed. All the while you could feel his denim-covered erection against your thigh.

“Clark,” You groaned against his lips, “It’s not fair.”

He pulled back, brows raised. You struggled to pull your hands free, to no avail.

“You’re still dressed,” You said with a pout.

He gave you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, how about you take care of that for me?”

He let go of your hands and you eagerly reached for the end of his shirt, pulling it off of him. You almost started drooling seeing him shirtless for the first time. Your hands began to wander around his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles. Your hands wandered down further, to the hem of his pants. Just as you were about to reach for his belt, his hand stopped you.

“You’re not ready yet sweetheart,” He warned you. 

“Clark-”

He pressed his mouth against you, silencing you before you could complain. Even though you weren’t allowed to undo his pants, he slid them off with ease and you felt his long hard member pressed against your thigh. You momentarily pulled away to glance down, gasping loudly when you saw his length.

Worried, you looked back up at him. “It’s not going to fit.”

He dipped his head back down to your neck, peppering kisses across your jaw. “That’s why we need to get you ready.”

His hand moved down to your soaked panties, pushing them down so you were completely bare now. Your breathing hitched, feeling him stick in a finger and begin to move it in and out of you slowly. He picked up the pace with his finger, eventually sticking in another and he could already feel your pussy tightening.

You were growing close and he was only fucking you with his fingers. Granted, his hands were larger than yours, so two of his fingers felt much larger than two of your own.

To add on, he lowered himself so his head would be right at your dripping cunt and began sucking on your clit. 

“Ah!” Your hands went straight to his hair and began to tug. You were a mess in his hands.

It didn’t take long for your body to shudder and your hips begin to spasm as you hit your high. Clark licked up your pouring juice, humming at your sweet taste. He looked up at you, two fingers remaining and now scissoring inside of you.

“You know, you really should ask for help if you can’t reach something,” He began. “It’s hard trying to hold back when you reach for things in those tight skirts of yours.”

“Well, now you don’t need to hold back,” You teased.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, grabbing his face with one hand and guiding him back to you. You could taste your juices in the kiss, humming in delight.

He pulled his fingers out, your core aching to be filled again. Luckily, you soon felt his already dripping tip at your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself into you and you could feel your walls stretch around him. You nearly cried, your body in a mix of pain and pleasure. Your back arched, breasts pressing against Clark’s chest. Your hands gripped his arms as tight as you could, and you were sure you were digging your nails into him.

It was so much. You could feel your eyes water and tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Clark kissed your forehead, muttered against it, “Just relax.”

He gave a small moment to adjust, noting how your breathing changed when you had gotten used to him. He pushed himself further in though, and you cursed under your breath, body growing tense again. 

Again, he gave you a moment to adjust, despite how painfully tight your walls clamped around him. He pulled out a small amount before pushing back in, bucking his a few times to get you used to him. Eventually, your quiet whimpers turned into small moans.

“M-more,” You breathed out, breath shaky.

Like a switch had been flipped in him, Clark pulled out almost all the way and speared you, no longer as gentle as he had been before. He did this again and again, going a little harder each time at a constant rhythm. Then, with one thrust you shouted his name loudly and your cunt squeezed around his cock.

“Ah! Clark again! Right there, please!” You begged him.

Knowing he had found your g-spot, he pulled out all the way this time and pounded that same spot, earning another cry of pleasure from you. He did this repeatedly now with a faster rhythm, leaving you gasping and clenching with each thrust. With each of your breaths growing ragged, it was clear you were both close to your release. 

You wrapped a leg around his hips to try and bring him closer, and he gripped your thigh harshly. He squeezed it so tightly, you were sure there’d be a faint bruise. 

With a few more thrusts, you shuddered, juices flowing out of you again and around Clark’s cock this time. You swore you heard Clark curse, feeling you squeeze around him and juices cover him. 

His rhythm was growing sloppy, and he pumped in and out of you until he let out a low groan of relief. You took a sharp breath, feeling his warm seed enter you. He continued to buck his hips, riding it out until he finally stopped, breath heavy.

He looked at you with now clear eyes and a smile on his face. “So… Do you need help putting your groceries away?” He asked cheekily.

You giggled. “Only if you don’t put anything important on the top shelf.”

“Why not? I’ll be around to help you now.”

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