#i got something sticky in my hair somehow

[livelaughlovesubs]

Hiii! May i request aftercare with Dazai? Reader makes him feel like he's the most fragile thing in the world after some of the most rough sex he's ever had. Take your tiiiime🫶🏻

Hiii, I hope I didn’t make you wait too long? Anyway aftercare it is

~aftercare, fluff & taking care of dazai~

“Haaah.. you were quite something just now.” Dazai collapsed onto the bed, hands spread as he let himself fall on his back. His skin was sticky, especially his lower parts, and his muscles were sore. It hurt like hell. Everything felt so nasty, but he simply lacked the strength to get up to go to the bathroom. He noticed how the mattress sunk beneath him, then how you brushed your fingertips over his face and tugged his hair behind his ears. “Thanks, you were amazing too.” You said, smiling to yourself. How dare you act all gentle and soft like this, when you literally just blowed his brains out, when you degraded him to the point he cried?

Of course he didn’t take it to heart, he knew you never thought that way about him. So he was only putting on a show, pouting and avoiding your gaze. “Does anything hurt?” You then asked, holding his hand in yours and rubbing his palm gently. Now you were treating him like he was a sick patient, caring for him with all the tenderness in the world. “My muscles are sore, my back hurts~! I’m so tired!” He complained, curious about what you will do next. “Haha, I’ll be gentler next time.” Both of you knew it was a lie.

Despite his complains, he still stood up by himself and went to the bathroom to wash up. You smiled, then followed him with fresh new towels in your hands. The sound of water splashing against the hard floor was loud, it bounced off the walls. Even though you stared at the glass of the shower, you couldn’t see him. It has turned foggy and white. Since you also had to shower, you quickly joined him, hugging the male from behind. “What’s this? An attack?” Dazai joked, then let water run down your body too. “Don’t be silly, I’m just admiring you.” He chuckled, his confident gaze was already back. “There are a lot of things to admire about me after all.” You heard him say, then he continued with, “but you are quite charming too, not on my level though.”

“Hah, thanks?” This man, he is really something else. Somehow you’ve gotten used to his behaviour now, simply changing the topic and rubbing his back instead. “Was there something you didn’t like?” You asked him as you massaged him, he did mention that he had sore muscles right? The hot water felt great against your skin, it washed away all your tiredness. “No, everything was fine. It was good.” He replied, suddenly all serious and almost shy. “I’m glad then.”

After all that, you went out first to grab the towels and wrapped him inside one immediately. “Don’t catch a cold.” Was all you said, while drying his hair. This is weird, he didn’t have to do anything, you took care of it all again. He couldn’t tell if he liked being babied or not, though you looked like you enjoyed yourself. “If I do get sick, will you visit me and take care of me?” What a stupid question, why did he ask you something like this? Wouldn’t he seem clingy now? You answered him without missing a beat, “if you were sick I’d nurse you til you are healthy.” “Pff, what if you get sick too?” Dazai said, laughing a little. It was a reflex, he felt embarrassed. How could you say something like that with a straight face? Besides, it’s nice to know someone cares about him.

“If I got sick, I’d want you to do the same.” You stared at him expectantly, he knew what kinds answer you wanted to hear. In that moment, he would have loved to promise you that he will, but he knew better than to promise something that isn’t certain. So in the end, he just snickered, “wouldn’t that be an endless circle then?” “Well, I don’t mind.” “You are crazy.”

While you were under the shower, you felt really refreshed and awake. Now that you’ve crushed into the bed again, the sleepiness was taking over once again. Yawning as you turn to his side, snuggling up at him and holding him in your arms. “Sleep well, my love.” You whispered, cuddling him and pulling him closer to you. How unfamiliar this warmth is… yet it felt nice, he’d never resist your touch. “Sweet dreams to you too, y/n.” He mumbled, before dozing off in your embrace.

#sub character #sub!character #dom reader #dom!reader #sub bsd #sub bungou stray dogs #dazai bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu x reader #dazai bsd #dazai #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai fluff

[baejax-the-great]

God I'm still not over people bitching about fanfic being in the tags.

When I first tried to dip my toes into fandom, a thing I knew almost nothing about, I typed "mass effect" into the search bar. What I got was image after image of 3D renderings of asari with phalluses having group sex (and I think Miranda was there sometimes, too). Was this what I was looking for? Absolutely not. Were these images incorrectly tagged? Nope. Did I want to see them? Not really. Was it the fault of the artists that I saw them? Nope.

That's just the nature of searching for shit online, especially such a half-functional website like Tumblr. It's a fucking grab bag of whatever the fuck your fellow humans are up to at any given time.

#i am so so so so do so cranky today #listen i got up at 4:45 for no fucking reason #its pouring rain and i need to walk yo the bank #i got something sticky in my hair somehow #my computer deleted a draft of a fic for some fuckin reason #and ive realized the goal i set for myself this autumn is fucking unrealistic and i was a chump for believing in myself #just like #god #what a fucking day #terrorists in the tags go fuck yourself #listen fanfic writers do whine a bunch about not getting attention and its a shitty quality #and franjly more people want to read shit posts and look at art than read fic #that is just the fuckin rrality of it #but people correctly tagging the fic nobody wants to read on tumblr dot com is literally not a fuckin problem

[radiance1]

This au again lawl. Where Danny wears these special sunglasses to hide his eyes that also track down ghosts in his human form.

The Justice League tracks down a summoning for the ghost king, an eons old tyrant of the infinite realms and known to bring war and devastation whenever he is summoned.

The cultists do manage to summon the ghost king, except, not how they wanted. They did indeed summon the king, but Pariah Dark is still trapped in eternal sleep and somehow, just, somehow, they managed to draw the lottery and dragged the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep to the summoning circle.

So there the Justice League were, wondering what to do with the (currently) locked away and sleeping ghost king.

Until Constantine's coat flipped itself open and a boy with glowing white hair and a mist of blue blowing from his mouth.

"Old man." The boy greeted.

"Brat." Constantine said.

"Do you mind explaining why and how this," The boy gestured to the Sarcophagus. "Is here and not in Pariah's Keep?"

"Funny story, that one." Constantine said, only half-jokingly. He then went on to explain that the Justice League came to track down cultists, said cultists somehow managed to drag that here, and now they didn't quite know what to do with it.

The boy stood still for a moment, before taking off his sunglasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed, a large amount of blue flame spilling from his mouth. "Ancients above, why is it every time something notable happens, it's always you?"

Constantine snorted, reaching into his coat for a pack of cigarettes and lighting himself one. "Hypocritical coming from you."

"I know, but still." The boy walked over to the Sarcophagus and sat on it, as if it wasn't the thing currently holding one of the most powerful ghosts in the infinite realms. "You know smoking is bad for you, right?"

"What, you learned that in class?" Constantine snarked, making no move to do anything and causing the boy to sigh again, toxic green eyes looked around the room, falling over each hero present before homing in on Flash. The boy pointed to him. "You. Come here."

"Whatcha want with red?" Constantine asked and the boy simply shrugged his shoulders. "Passing on a message."

The boy blinked once, and if he was surprised that the Flash was already in front of him, then he didn't show it. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a green sticky not, motioned for Flash to bent down and stuck it on his forehead.

Superman was... concerned. There was a heartbeat there, he could hear it, but it was so slow and seemed rather weak, like the boy was near death.

"Alright, now I gotta get old mean and green back to his keep before the Observants get on my case." The boy put back on his sunglasses and got up, waving Flash away and lifting up the Sarcophagus above his head he walked over to Constantine, whose face wrinkled.

"That ain't going to fit." The warlock pointed out and the boy scoffed, probably rolling his eyes behind his glasses. "And you've fit bigger things, just shut up and lift the coat old man."

Constantine did so, and somehow the boy just shoved the entire Sarcophagus inside. The boy was very obviously smug as the blue mist that was blowing from his mouth the entire time petered out. "I'll clean up the mess on my end," The boy said before waving his hand in the Justice League's general direction. "You deal with all that."

"Just get going already, I'm not about to get those sentient eyeballs on my ass."

"Yea, yea. You got enough to deal with as is." The boy then stepped inside Constantine's cloak and as soon as the man let it drop, he disappeared.

Constantine looked around the room, silently assessing the situation as he brought another cigarette to his lips.

He lamented the fact he would have to deal with this sober.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Just so ya know #Danny ain't ghost king or prince #Just normal halfa here #Haha #Where does Constantine's cloak lead? #We may never know. #Just know that Danny can come out and go into it #Because I thought it was funny

[bi-writes]

I LOVED how you wrote ghost and badass!reader omg 🫶 If you’re comfortable, would you be open to writing protective boyfriend ghost at the pub? Some oblivious guy is creepy when ghost goes to get drinks. He has no idea what he’s gotten himself into when ghost returns.

ill take any opportunity to write about my favorite lieutenant spilling blood for love (18+)

he has been gone for too long. your glass is empty, and the crowd is filling the room, and it's loud. you lose him, even the size of him is swallowed by how many people are moving around, and you sigh as you lean your head into your hands and wait for him.

you know he must hate this. the people. the noise. it's hot, too, and you know he'll complain a little about the stickiness of his mask when you get home.

you gasp when there's a splash of something against your back. you cry out in anger, and when you turn, there's two men cackling as they come into your space.

"ohhhh!" the lankier one giggles drunkenly, and his eyes make you uneasy. his hair is curling from the sweat along his brow, and the dark pieces of it fall in front of his face, drawing low shadows over him. he's the one holding the drink that just spilled down your back. "s-sorry, luv--" he hiccups, and you glare.

"fuck off," you snap, and it's then that you realize you've made a mistake. something ugly flashes across his face, and his friend notices, a bleach-blonde with an uneven haircut, and he whistles a little.

"oh, fuck, mate--she wants a fight."

you scoff, shaking your head. "if you aren't gonna apologize for spilling that shit on me, the least you can do is get the fuck out of here."

"oi, you got a fuckin' mouth on ya, lovie," the dark-haired one growls. you sit up a little straighter, brushing off some liquid that's spilled onto the table. they're cornering you, you realize, when the blonde one takes a seat across from you and the other traps you in the booth by sitting next to you.

"i'm not going to ask you again," you say firmly. "get your ass off this seat and move along."

"you're one of those, aren't you?" the one next to you gets uncomfortably close. "one of those feminists? that thinks men are useless, and that you're meant for something more than the fuckin' kitchen?"

you frown, your mouth opening slightly, and you shake your head, "excuse me?"

"you lot," he comes closer. "think you're hot shit. but y'r all fuckin' slags. only thing you're good for is opening y'r fuckin' legs."

you jump visibly when he grabs your thigh roughly, and you're about to react when a gloved hand finds the back of his head and slams it down against the wood of the desk.

you squeak when he cries out in pain, his nose pointing at unnatural angles, and blood splatters the table and the denim of your jeans. you lean back, but then those gloved hands grab the back of his shirt and yank him out of the booth, tossing him onto the floor. he skids across it, wet with spilled drinks, and he doubles over, coughing, cradling his face as he sobs.

you swallow hard when ghost finally turns his head back to the table. his chest is heaving, and he squeezes his hands in and out of fists when his eyes land on the helpless blonde that still somehow sits across from you.

"no--" he holds his hands up. "n-no, w-we were just--"

"just what?" ghost snarls, tilting his head to the side as he looks at him. you suck in a shaky breath, frozen in your seat, and you almost feel bad for the poor thing. but then you replay the words, the way they looked at you, how one of them put a hand on you. you relax a little, blinking, and you realize it must be acceptance.

you take a dog with you when you go out. it's not your fault people don't realize their bite hurts.

ghost takes a step towards him, boots heavy, and he runs. he bolts, running away, out the back door, and he leaves his friend to cradle his bloody face against his shaking hands all by himself. the crowd was quiet for a moment, but the mood softens when ghost turns away, letting out a low breath. people realize the show is over, and they shuffle back in place.

there is blood on the back of your hand. before you can touch it, a gloved hand reaches out and smooths his own over you, wiping it away. you sniffle, looking down, and he comes closer to crowd your space. you feel only warmth with him there, and your lip trembles a little.

"s-sorry, i--"

"wot are you apologizing for?" simon mutters. "apologizin' for those fuckin' twats, luv? don't want t'hear it."

he grunts, shaking his head, and he tugs on your arms, bringing you closer.

"c'mere," he tilts your head up, putting a few fingers on your chin and staring down at you. he narrows his dark eyes, and you smile, just a little, sadly. "was almost too late." he looks behind him, and you see a few feet away, there's two drinks spilled on the floor, glass shattered where he dropped them. "saw him put his fuckin' hands on you, 'n--"

you put a hand on his forearm, digging your nails in there gently. you shake your head.

"it's okay. doesn't matter." you laugh a little. "kinda hot."

you notice him raise a brow, and he tilts his head to the side, and he hums.

"oh, that right, luv?" he leans in, closer, and when he touches your hands, blood comes off on your hands. you smooth your hands against his own, gripping them firmly, and you look up at him as you smile knowingly.

simon would do unspeakable things for you. and that idiot was lucky to go home with his hands still attached. it should scare you that you know this, that you know this is a fact. it's dark, it's cruel, but it's yours, and you like the way it tastes in your mouth.

you like the way revenge feels against your tongue, the sound that love feels between your teeth. this love is fucked and raw, and it will tear you apart, but you can't wait for it, to feel it, the thin line between pain and pleasure. simon pushes the boundary between good and bad, and for once, the blood feels warm, and he paints you with it, and it's fucking poetic the way you look at him now.

pretty eyes, big eyes, eyes that tell him she's going to fuck you when she takes you home.

"yeah, big man," you murmur, and you feel something hot go through you when his eyes drop to your lips for just a second. just enough time for you to know he's losing his resolve. one thought about getting his hands on you, and he falls, and it's pathetic, but he's so fucking hard, he doesn't care. "it's hot."

and when he forces you to look in the mirror later, when it's dark and it's just the two of you, you realize there is blood on your face, and his hands are dirty with filth.

but when he goes to take the gloves off, you don't let him.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost x you #simon thoughts #ghost mwii #ghost call of duty #dark!simon

[babydollmarauders]

OUT — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which everyone has been wondering about the hair tie on Jack’s wrist, and they finally get the answers they were looking for

notes: THANK YOU MADDY ( @thatintrovertedwriter ) FOR THIS IDEA!!! I’M OBSESSED WITH IT!! not proofread and written while heavily sleep deprived

a relationship was never part of my intentions when i accepted my job offer.

in fact, any sort of love was pushed to the far corners of my mind. my focus was on showing everyone that not only men can be equipment managers in the NHL.

i had gone through so much rejection. countless teams citing that they decided to go in a different direction, and hiring a male for the job instead; and though most of the staff would try to deny that my gender was a part of it, there was always that one guy that had no problem with admitting they didn’t believe that a woman had any place in the NHL.

as if the job was hard. as if i couldn’t hand players sticks just as well as any man could.

but then the New Jersey Devils came into play. they had heard some talk about me and were the first team to reach out to me. they offered me the job, and i eagerly accepted. i felt i had something to prove. my gender doesn’t diminish the performance of my job.

so most of the 2022-23 season, i put all my focus into my job. i was amicable with the players, making sure i knew any superstitions or things i shouldn’t do with their equipment, but i never let it pass into any real level of friendship.

and then Jack Hughes happened.

when he got injured and had to sit out for a few games, i was put in charge of keeping him company. for four games my job description changed from handing players new sticks, to babysitting a twenty-one year old, and i wasn’t happy in the slightest.

it felt insulting, and apparently Jack felt the same way. somehow in those four games, we went from sitting across the suite from each other, to bonding over how stupid it was that i couldn’t do my actual job, to forming a friendship.

and in a matter of weeks, our friendship blossomed into something more.

it started with him coming back to my apartment after rough games, watching movies and letting off steam by joking around and playing drinking games. then along the way, we stumbled into bed. one hookup turned into two, which turned into another, which turned into a date, and finally by the end of the season, he was asking me to be his girlfriend.

it took me a week to finally tell him yes. an entire week of struggling with the decision. wondering if, if i start a real relationship with this player, am i proving all those men who told me i had no place in the NHL, right? but ultimately, i decided that my happiness was worth more than someone’s opinion of me, and i told him yes.

***

jackhughes

liked by nicohischier, trevorzegras, and 150,599 others

jackhughes 3/3

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subbanator 🚀

user83 is he wearing… a pink hair tie on his wrist?

user45 where?

user83 it’s on the same wrist with his bracelets

user16 omg you’re right

user02 is his hair even long enough to put up?

user77 @/user02 apparently

user91 what if it’s a girlfriends? oh my god

brendan.brisson Same time next year

***

i’m running late.

i’m running late and i’m rushing.

i’m running late, i’m rushing, and i’m contemplating breaking all rules of the road to arrive to work on time.

nothing is going right for me today.

i was supposed to have the morning off, so i didn’t set an alarm, but then i woke up to find six missed calls from my boss and a text asking if i could come help get equipment ready for practice because one of the other equipment managers came down with the flu.

then, i had to deal with getting yelled at because i didn’t have my ringer on and therefore, woke up after practice ended and didn’t come in and help.

then, i tipped over my brand new bottle of cold brew and had to spend almost an hour mopping my kitchen floor and wiping down the counters to get rid of the stickiness.

then, at the last minute as i was stepping out the door to head to the arena, my hair tie broke. and now i’ve spent the last fifteen minutes scouring my apartment for a new one, only to come to the conclusion that i have to leave now or else risk being yelled at for a second time today.

i give up entirely on my search for a hair tie, accepting my fate of wearing my hair down and rushing out of my apartment so fast that i almost forget to lock up behind me.

when i finally make it to Prudential Center, i’m able to clock in just before i’d be considered late, and i have absolutely no extra time to search for my boyfriend amidst the chaos of the season opener.

instead, i set off straight to the equipment area, working in tandem with my colleagues to make sure every players gloves, pads, and everything in between is ready, before i put each players gear into their respective locker room stalls.

i stack pucks in a high pyramid at the bench, ready for warm-ups, and line sticks up against the glass behind the bench, all set to be handed out when needed.

amongst the frantic running around the arena and getting things ready, i lose track of how many times i’m adjusting my hair; flipping it over my shoulder and tugging it out of my face.

finally, i get a split second to breathe, pulling my hair up in a makeshift ponytail with my hands as i stand outside the locker room, on standby in case any of the players need me.

“hey.” i instinctively drop my hands at the sound of someone talking, my shirt falling back down to cover the sliver of my abdomen that had shown when they were raised.

at the sight of my boyfriend, i sigh in relief, his chuckle reaching my ears as his arms snake around my waist.

“i scare ya?” Jack teases.

his helmet hits against my back, as he holds it in one hand. he’s all geared up, ready to hit the ice for the first game of the season, and oddly enough, i can’t help finding it incredibly attractive.

“just a little.” i huff, and a wide grin spreads across his lips. i smack his chest, but all that it hurts is his padding. “don’t be mean! i’ve had a bad day.”

his smile drops into an exaggerated pout, and he leans down to press a kiss to my lips.

“i’m sorry, baby.” i hum in acknowledgment, waving it off when he asks if i’d like to rant.

“no, it’s okay. i’ll rant later.” i assure him. “after you win your game.”

“our game.” he states, and i roll my eyes.

he’s made sure to never let me forget how much work i put into the team’s equipment and gear. citing that they wouldn’t be able to win without my help.

in his eyes, it’s as much my wins and losses as it is his.

“right.” i nod, patting his shoulders. “in that case, i’m gonna be very upset if you lose our game.”

his head tips back, laughter pouring past his lips, and it sounds like a melody in my ears.

“i’m confident. we’ll win this game.” he assures me, finally letting go of my waist and backing up. “if we don’t, you and i will never hear the end of it from Larks.”

ahh yes, Dylan Larkin. the Red Wings captain and Jack’s friend, whom i met over the summer while visiting Jack at his lake house.

“go!” i shoo my boyfriend off as the rest of his teammates begin pouring out of the locker room, heading off to line up, ready to hit the ice for warm-ups.

waving to the guys, who smile back at me in return, i head out to behind the bench.

as the guys warm up, i double check the bench stock of smelling salts, tums, stick tape, skate blades, and whatever else the guys may need during the game, before standing idly by.

*

finally, the game is underway, seven minutes left in the second period, and my boyfriend has already gotten a penalty in first for ‘roughing’.

i’m watching my boyfriend skate around the ice as i tend to his teammates, anxiously holding my breath as the clock winds down.

Jack zips across the ice, and i’m gnawing at my lip as he gains control of the puck. but before i know it, he’s just scored his first goal of the season.

a small smile splays across my lips, attempting to contain my excitement as he skates past the bench, bumping fists with his elated teammates before taking another lap around the ice.

Luke turns his head to grin at me, but he’s sidetracked as i’m interrupted by a teammate.

“y/n, can i get some salts?” Timo asks, and i nod, spinning around to grab some, my hair whipping in my face as i do so.

i let out a frustrated groan, turning back around to hand the little packet of smelling salts to number 28.

“you okay?” Timo questions, his brows threading together and i nod.

“it’s my damn hair.” i huff as he moves down on the bench, making room for my boyfriend and his line mates who now join on the bench. “i usually wear it up, but my hair tie broke and it’s getting on my nerves.”

wordlessly, Jack absentmindedly sheds his gloves off, pulling something from his wrist before holding it out to me where i stand directly behind him.

my lips part in surprise as my eyes lock on the pink hair tie that’s pinched between his index finger and thumb.

my hair tie.

“oh.” i breathe out, plucking the hair tie from his grasp. i smile, immediately pulling my hair up into a high ponytail. “thank you, love.”

he turns his head just enough to spot me, beaming back at me for a moment before turning back to focus back on the game that’s about to restart.

i lean forward a little, my hand lightly resting against the padding on his back, but he must feel the slight pressure because he leans back a little to show me he’s listening to what i have to say next.

“congratulations, babe. i’m proud of you.” i speak lowly, only for him to hear, before i stand back again, as though the interaction never happened. both of us focusing back on the game that takes place in front of us.

***

***

Jack lays beside me in my bed, absentmindedly scrolling through his social media, nodding along as i rant about my day.

“…but seeing you in the box was a plus.” i finish off my long winded ramble, effectively gaining his attention back at my teasing.

he locks his phone, tossing it to the side as he looks over at me.

“what was that?” he asks mockingly, raising an eyebrow. but before i can repeat myself, his fingers are working against the bare skin of my stomach.

my abdomen tightens as i laugh, squirming and trying to get away from his touch.

“stop!” i cackle, attempting and failing to push his hands away as he tickles me.

“no, say that again!” he chuckles, maneuvering his body now to straddle my legs so that i can’t run away, even if i wanted to. i shake my head wildly. “say it again! what was that? i don’t think i heard you right! cause it sounded like you just said the highlight of your day was seeing me get penalties!”

“that’s not true!” i squeal and he momentarily ceases his attack, tilting his ear towards me as if he’s listening closer.

“i said they were just pluses.” i defend myself, quickly following up, “the highlight of my day was finding out you wear my hair tie on your wrist.”

he looks down at me with a smirk, obviously quite proud of himself.

“stole that from your apartment.” he announces with pride.

“when?” i laugh, reaching up to cup the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to mine.

his hands now rest on either side of my head, holding himself up.

“the second time we hooked up.” he murmurs, dipping down to press a kiss to my lips. “you had complained that day when you forgot you hair tie at home. i never wanted you to be uncomfortable again, so i took one when i left here that night.”

i blink back at him in surprise, my heart thumping loudly in my chest, whooshing in my ears.

“are you telling me, you’ve been wearing that hair tie on your wrist, for the past seven months, just in case i ever needed it?” i ask.

“mhm.” he hums, his nose nudging against mine as he nods, the corners of his lips quirking up in a soft smile.

“i’m so in love with you.” i whisper, pulling him down to capture his lips in a kiss.

his lips slot against mine, his tongue slipping in to tangle with mine in a deep and sultry kiss, before he pulls away.

“oh good, because apparently our interaction tonight on the bench?” he pauses and i furrow my brows, nodding for him to continue. “yeah, apparently that happened while the camera was on me.”

a gasp slips past my lips, and he cringes slightly, nodding his head.

“yeah, we’ve been outted.”

we both let that sink in for a moment, pondering what our relationship will be like now that everyone knows. fans certainly analyzing our every move now.

but despite that, we can finally go on dates in public, and post each other on our social medias without panicking that we may have accidentally posted on our public stories instead of our close friends ones.

“i think i can live with that.” i finally break the silence, and he grins.

“yeah?” he questions, pressing a kiss against my lips, and i nod against him.

“yeah.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3

[inkskinned]

over time the thing i have had more access to - through healing, maybe, or because i got out of that house, or because i was lucky, or because of those who taught me, or all of it - was this sense of a type of love that was all-encompassing and easy. nonromantic; it wasn't anything rose-colored but rather a world seen through honey.

it is this sense that i am in love with birds, and puddles, and how the nose of my dog moves. i am in love with my best friend's hands, and i am in love with your eyes, and i am in love with the little blades of wildflowers turning their heads towards the sun. today my mother told me one of my favorite flowers - lily of the valley - is endangered. i almost wept. i love them, i said.

when i was younger, and i said i am staying for the love, i thought love could only fit into a single birdwing. like a nesting doll; you could only find love somewhere balled up; hidden. you had to pry first, unlock. it would not absolve; only give you a moment's rest. somehow i thought - that was all.

oh but. this love, now. a love of how trains move, and how clouds scud the blue, and how when i asked does anyone have a bandaid i received offers from each person in the room. it is the love of a grey sunday and of mixing paint and of jazz music and seeing my neighbor sigh while he leashes his dog. this sense that it is all lovely and magical, that it is all romantic. the sense that i am in love with breakfast foods and i am in love with book nooks and i am in love with poetry and plants and how you braid your hair and how we shift our weight at the bus stop; and how each of these flood me, effortless and sleepy, like a memory of something i learned as a baby.

i think tomorrow for practice i will teach myself how to love the grey carpet of my ratty apartment; and how the fibers all hold hands with each other and snuggle into bed together, their forms all spooning. i think tonight i will love how my yoga mat leaves little imprints on my knees; a marathon of sticky kisses where the grooves all begged stay with me please. i think i will love the melon rind and i will love the ugly dark bruise.

while we're at it - although we are apart and have never met, i think right now, dear reader. i love you.

#warm up #writeblr

[vampiretendencies]

wonder how i got by this week, i only touched you once

authors note; hi! this is my first but also not really my first jj piece. i had an old account here but i deleted it over a year ago, however my love for obx has not changed which explains why i am back lols. i am just testing the waters again here, and letting my thoughts go. i also proofread but sometimes not well enough so you may come across an error or two. gif and divider creds to owner. & feel free to send asks, guidelines for those are coming soon.

warnings; fluff, very clingy!jj, & language

summary; if jj could sow his skin to yours, he would.

pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader

an imprint.

you were sure that was all that was going to be left of you on that twin mattress. not that you were deemed in your last moments of life or anything, but because your boyfriend’s grasp on you in his sleep is not suitable for the weak. it should be described as something resembling a death grip. body tinging with restlessness & the mere moments of having laid here wide away for the past two hours. jj’s body heat radiating onto you at a battle with the sun, that is currently piercing through jj’s bedroom window at the chateau. who knew delirium would gather as quickly as it did, every time you peered toward the bathroom you swore it got three feet farther. hair plastered to the sides of your face, you huffed out of frustration.

jj was damn near on top of you. legs wrapped miraculously around yours, twisting and tangling themselves together. his black boxers riding low, as his waste lovingly crushed yours. the sleep weight of him, was like jj plus two. not to be dramatic but you were gasping for air at one point. his top half, guided by his bottom half. skin sticking to skin, whilst you glistened with sweat, jj somehow still had features like that of angel. well, pardoning the snoring. the abs of his stomach glided against your ribs, hanging onto you as if you’d be gone with one goodbye. the tips of his disheveled blonde locks tickled your temple. mouth slack open, roaring desperately into your ear.

what anyone would be thinking right now is, why not just fucking get up ?

two issues with that. the stickiness of your skin unattaching itself from his was sure to wake him up. anytime you made something even resembling a movement he found a way to force you close into him. and he would never let your hear the end of it, he’d make certain to whine and complain all day about “how you wouldn’t love him back” or some shit like that. he’s definitely more dramatic than you, however this was not cuddling. this was a bear hugging a tree and you were his tree to mangle and rip apart whenever he saw fit.

the other issue being, jj’s room has miscellaneous trash littering the entirety of it. in an instant, if your leg were to loom over the side of jj’s bed the crackling of a beer can or a water bottle was going to crush beneath your foot.

“fuck me,” you silently cursed yourself.

nearly approaching three pm, is what jj’s alarm clock read. you still to this day wonder why such an unproductive, procrastinating type person has the need for one, but that’s just jj.

you’d decided you couldn’t bear taking it anymore, combination of hot breath shelling your ear mixed with the stench of muggy air. you craved a shower, brushing your teeth, to piss for Christ’s sake, and your personalized skin care routine if you could muster up enough time to do so …

wriggling a tad, you pulled back the limp limb that is his arm which has been thrown over your neck for best part of his slumber. jj being a light sleeper, it was stupid of you to even attempt. within milliseconds his arm is thrown over your collar bone, whisping you into him once again. out of instinct a minuscule peck was placed to your ear lobe, his breaths interrupted by your movement. a faint grumble between his lips, signaling for you to keep your ass still.

but, you simply could not. you were going to get up, and you refused to feel horrid for it because jj has had well over his ‘must have’ eight hours of sleep.

“j,” you gulped. contemplating today’s reaction of the constant battle, you blink slowly awaiting his response.

a hm escaped jj’s lips, barely awake but staying awake because his girl never deserved to be ignored.

“let me up,” on the brink of a demand, his eyes opened fully at that, furrowing eyebrows out of frustration.

jj wanted you to save him until the both of you were buried alive. he hungered to be inside of your skin. the true depth of being his girlfriend, you already acknowledged those things. there’s no showering alone, there’s no eating alone, no going to the bathroom alone, you don’t remember the last time you did your own makeup alone. he knew that if he was going to be with someone it could not be just anyone, the dynamic had to work. he was aware of his neediness and constant clinging, you were as well, before you even begun dating you had the willingness to admit you always had a soft spot for jj. you weren’t sure if it was the empath in you and the sheerness of being a human being. he’d been abandoned and abused since he was young, you wouldn’t be the one to return the favor.

the both of you just work.

it makes sense that the passion and the ethereal ache for want has never left, loves you just the same as the day he met you in eighth grade.

bringing him to his now decision as to wether or not he wanted to actually let you up or to fuck with you.

“stay with me.”

he uttered; partially truthful, partially not. he despised the feeling of the empty bed settling in if you were to get up, though he’d known you were due for a piss right about now.

“i have to get up, m’all sweaty and you aren’t helping.”

your explanation was understandable, but he still wasn’t having it. an eternity encompassed in your affections was a dream, and living in that dream he would presume possible for as long as you’d allow him.

“suffer a few more minutes.”

“j, i’m serious.”

he edged a tight lipped smile, noticing the eye roll and glistening beauty of your forehead. eyes inspecting you as though it was the first time. your sports bra adorned just how he’d liked, chest rising and falling faster then usual, appearing as if you’d ran a mile and then some. something so sweet about the scent of your skin, he’d breathe in continuously saturating his senses in the symphony that is you.

“what’s a man gotta do for few more minutes hm?”

he’s atop you now, hands at either side of your head. towering over to make eye contact— a sign that you yearned for him as he did you.

staring up at him, a yes is on the tip of your tongue but you’ve sacrificed enough of your day dedicated to cuddling jj. shuffling his weight onto one hand his thumb dusted past your chin and to your cheek bone, trying to lull you back in all at once. tilting your head in a swift movement, he lowers himself itching to press your unearthly soft lips with his. you did not oblige, smashing a hand to his lips.

“you’re not getting a kiss.”

“then you aren’t getting up,” he chimed. “as easy as that, baby.”

“jj! i am hot, and i smell like ass, if you don’t let me up don’t expect a kiss at all.”

you bargained, unable to win this fight you’d be giving in within minutes.

“well, i for one, like hot ass .. your hot ass in particular.”

your throat ran dry, willing to just do it out of desperation for a shower. the feathered blonde of his hair wavered as his head turned about, with the click of his tongue murmuring a muffled tick tock against the back of your hand.

“one fucking kiss jj.”

you’d agreed, hand faintly falling backward as you embraced him. your lips pucker for a slight peck but jj had far more in mind. the peck tainted his lips, the peck was for hurries only. jj ruled this as a no hurry situation though to you it was past a hurry. when you pull away from the peck, jj writhes his hand around your neck gently. wrestling his pair of lips with yours, teeth pulling at your lip for entrance, and you didn’t find yourself pulling away. two tongues swiveling and swirling just the way jj liked. God, he just could not get enough of the way your tongue molded with his. besotted that they fit together just right.

you break the trance, not allowing jj to reel you back in again.

“gotta brush my teeth now, j.”

your voice somewhat pleaded, a small boyish pout forming. groaning and all the extras accompanying jj maybank.

“okay okay, i’ll give you a few.”

rolling off of you, he gave way for you to do all that you pleased. you grinned his way as he sent a toothy one back. you felt free, as you did all the times before you had to force jj off of you. you could move and you did so at a rapid pace, before the whining begun. kicking beer cans out of the way you seemed to take your first step to the bathroom but that is until the palm of jj’s hand collides with the bottom of your ass.

“hurry up, you sexy motherfucker!”

your cheeks tainted red at his outburst, all of the cut could’ve heard it. but you laugh with ease, at your attention seeking boyfriend.

“won’t be long okay?”

you offer him a hug, a show of infatuation; before you were officially off to the bathroom, with intentions of closing the door. he encapsulates you, swallowing you whole with his arms. he peppered multiple kisses to your forehead.

“don’t shower without me, pretty girl.”

#jj maybank #jj #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x kiara carrera #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x sister reader #jj maybank one shot #jj mayback imagine #obx fanfiction #obx #obx pogues #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #jj maybank smut #kiara carerra x reader #john b routledge #pope heyward #sarah cameron #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagines #outer banks #outer banks 3 #obx 3 #jj maybank imagines

[cyyfics]

Hello! May I please request some SFW headcanons for both Simon and the Winter King with a feminine and girly S/O?

—————

Girly S/O Hc’s

Pairing: Simon x reader x Winter King

Warning(s): None!!! Yay!!!!

Note: I hope I did this right aaaaaaaa

Mainly just did some of the ‘girly stuff’ (I consider girly stuff) that I do basically

IM SRRY ITS A BIT SHORT I didn’t rlly know what to write hhhhhh

—————

Simon

- he loves seeing the outfits you wear, he likes how some of your high heels make your legs look longer, he likes how when you wear frilly skirts you twirl around so it moves with you.

- he likes watching you put makeup on, he can’t understand how you’re able to do it. Until maybe you force him to let you try it on him. He doesn’t enjoy it, hates the feeling of all the brushes and powders and liquids put onto his face but he doesn’t say much “I think some of it got in my mouth.” But in the end he’s feeling real pretty.

- does not enjoy it when you wear lip gloss, yes he finds you absolutely gorgeous. But he hates the feeling when you kiss him, leaving sticky prints on his skin. Not in a bad way though, most times you wear it you kiss him just to annoy him.

- he will talk with you and keep you company while you do things, wether you’re sitting at a mirror putting on your makeup or you’re by a power point trying to blow dry your hair. He will be there hanging out with you, maybe helping you if you ask for something.

- I’d say that you force him to watch silly chick flicks with you, but it’s honestly the other way around. No one would expect but he’s really into those movies, and it just helps that you are too! You two love to cuddle and lay together on the couch watching mainly 2000’s girl movies or romcoms.

Winter King

- he will buy you clothes. If he can. if he has the money to do so I assure you that he would buy you whatever you wanted from the store, even if your eyes just linger for a moment too long at something he would be buying it for you.

- He likes it when you kiss him and leave prints all over his skin, either on his cheek or smudged onto his lips, he loves it. he likes other people seeing him afterwards and having them know that you two shared a kiss, that he was yours.

- He will straighten/curl your hair for you if you ask him to, even if you don’t he will still be there with you while you do it. I feel like he could do something to help your hair with the heat of the iron damaging your hair, but I’m not sure how to describe it. Something to do with his ice powers.

- he cleans your pillow for you when you’re out of bed. He will be picking up each strand of hair and will be disposing of it before the two of you go to bed again.

- he loves seeing the makeup looks you can do, he finds it amazing- beautiful, wonderful, he can’t just use words to describe it. He finds it very artsy.

- he will at some point attempt to help you with your makeup and he will fail. Somehow.

#fionna and cake #send requests #adventure time #fionna and cake x reader #adventure time x reader #send asks #anon ask #simon petrikov x reader #simon petrikov #winter king #winter king x reader

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

it’s only three days late! here’s my entry for @thefreakandthehair's summer fanworks challenge!!

pairing: steddie | word count: 3,677 | rated: M | on AO3: it's a date

“These are the days where I miss when you worked at Scoops.” Eddie complains for the nth time that afternoon.

It’s hot, okay? Immensely so.

It’s so fuckin’ hot that it’s seeping into Family Video despite their normally pretty okay A/C.

He’s laid out across the front counter, one arm hanging loosely over it onto Steve’s side, and the other is holding his hair off his neck best it can.

Of all days to forget a hair tie.

Steve scoffs, “Yeah, you miss it, but that place was hell on my hair and therefore, on my game.”

“I still don’t understand that, who could resist Sailor Steve?” 

“Apparently every person that came in could.” Steve pauses for a moment, “Except moms and grandmas. They all loved me.” he grumbles, leaning back on the far counter along the front window, arms crossed.

Eddie opens his mouth to respond with some sort of smart-alecy quip, but is interrupted by the chime of the bell above the door.

On instinct, Eddie peels his sticky skin from the green linoleum counter and slumps off into the aisles.

The government and Hawkins Police may have completely cleared him as a suspect for the spring break murders, but his presence in town is still not exactly welcome.

So, Steve goes into full-on ‘Prince Charming’ mode when the bombshell of a blonde approaches to ask about something, and Eddie meanders over to the horror section, trying his best to ignore the soupy jealousy in his gut for the girl at the counter, getting to be the center of Steve’s attention like that.

Eventually, she leaves, and from the way Steve’s eyes track the girl out the door and the droop of his shoulders once the door closes behind her, he struck out once again.

“I can’t believe I got to see the Harrington charm in action, live and in person!” Eddie says in imitation of a showman as he approaches the register, “And it failed! Where’s Robin’s board, huh?”

Eddie hefts himself half over the counter in front of him to hang over the other side of it, searching in vain for Robin’s famed ‘You Suck / You Rule’ board.

“Ha ha ha, Munson. You’re hilarious.” Steve pushes Eddie back to the floor with a hand to the face. “And I didn’t fail.”

He shows him a slip of paper with 10 whole digits written on it in a loopy hand, then promptly crumples it tight and tosses it into the nearby trash can.

Eddie somehow manages to keep his face from grinning at the action. ‘Just because he’s tossing her number doesn’t mean you have a chance, asshole.’ his brain tells him.

He puts on a confused face instead, to which Steve shrugs and says, “Not my type.”

Eddie lets out a low whistle. “Well that just sucks for her then. Never see how great a date with the esteemed King Steve would be.” Eddie says, clapping a hand to his chest in a half-swoon, straightening up again while Steve laughs, tacking on a: “Lord knows I’d want to.” in a low mumble. A guy can dream right?

“Would you now?” Steve says, still smiling.

Shit.

“‘Would I now?’ what?” Eddie manages to say before his mouth goes dry, tracking Steve’s movements as the other man steps forward to lean on his forearms next to Eddie at the counter. 

His warm, toned forearm presses along Eddie’s, and he’s only half embarrassed that he doesn’t mind the added heat.

“You want to know how a date with me goes, huh Munson?”

Eddie gulps “Oh…y–yeah, sure; lay it on me Stevie, I’d love t’know.” 

He had managed a facade of a cocky grin by the end of his response, but his throat dries right back up and clenches shut at what Steve says next.

“How about I just take you out tomorrow night and show you,”Steve says, then he’s leaning further into Eddie’s side, and whispering, “Maybe you’ll see how a date with me ends.” into Eddie’s ear.

Eddie slowly rears back to blink at the (beautiful) smiling man beside him.

Oh.

He’s fucking with him.

Of course.

Eddie rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a smirk. “Ha ha you’re really funny. You got all the jokes today huh?”

Steve just chuckles at him.

“I gotta run though,” Eddie says, pushing himself off the counter and heading to the door with a wave over his shoulder “Good luck with the babes, Steve-o!”

“Sure, Eds. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six?”

He spins to face the counter again, “Oh yeah, sure you will, Big Boy. Sounds like a plan.” he agrees sarcastically, walking backwards out the front door.

Eddie goes through his normal routine the rest of that day and night; scrounge up some food, smoke a little, write out some of his campaign or song ideas, end up falling asleep around 9 am, waking up when Wayne leaves for his shift the next evening and deciding “Meh, might as well shower.’’.

So he does, and has just barely stepped out of the tub when the phone in the hall rings.

“Munson Residence, what’d’ya want?”

“Are you ready?”

“Hmm…ready for what, mysterious caller?” Eddie asks, shifting the phone to his other shoulder so he can continue scrunching the water out of his curls.

“For our date.” the caller (Steve, as he can now tell) says as if it’s obvious. “I’m about to head over so make sure you're ready.”

“Steve? Our date–wha?” he starts, but Steve’s already hung up.

“He can’t be serious..” Eddie looks at the clock. 5:30.

Oh shit.

There’s no time to panic about what to wear, Eddie just goes on instinct. He pulls on his one (1) pair of un-ripped jeans, the one (1) semi-nice button up he owns (both thankfully clean), and has only just managed to finish his eyeliner and put on his rings when he hears a knock from the living room.

Eddie scrabbles down the hall and nearly falls flat on his face when he trips on one of his discarded towels from earlier. He kicks it off his foot while trying to put his still damp hair up in a bun.

He exhales a shaky breath at the door, before finally opening it.

Steve stands there on his doorstep in plain, light wash jeans that look like they were painted on, Eddie’s (now, decidedly) favorite navy blue polo, unbuttoned all the way, and his gray Members Only jacket 

“I didn’t think you were serious.” Eddie says, breathless.

“I know.” Steve grins, passing him a bouquet of roses, “You look great, Eddie.”

Eddie balks at the roses in his hand for a smidge too long, because Steve says, “So are you good? We’ve kinda got a timeline here...”, pointing to his watch.

Eddie feels his eyes widen even more (if that’s even possible), but quickly gets the roses shoved into the tallest glass of water he can, and follows Steve to his car, locking the door behind him.

Steve asks him about his day, and there’s nothing much to tell, but they continue to chat idly as Steve drives them through town.

“I thought you said we had reservations.” Eddie jokes as main street flies by outside the window and morphs into the darkening woods outside Hawkins.

“Never said reservations. Someone just assumed.” he says, looking over at Eddie with a smirk.

“Is that not what ‘We kinda have a timeline’ means?”

“Not always.” he smirks, then immediately follows it with: “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, Steve.”

“Good, close your eyes.”

Eddie raises a brow at the other man.

“Please?” Steve chuckles, and Eddie obliges, covering his eyes with his hand for good measure.

He feels the car pull off the smooth asphalt of the main highway, and the motions of their new winding path jostle him softly back and forth.

“And here the lovely people of Hawkins thought I was the ritualistic murdering satanist. You taking me out to the woods to sacrifice me Stevie?”

Eddie can hear Steve’s jacket shift against the leather seat when he shrugs. “We gotta make sure the upside down stays shut somehow.”

“Ah, so I’m this year’s unfortunate virgin?”

Steve’s responding snort of laughter is the best thing Eddie’s ever heard. “Yeah, I seriously doubt you’re a virgin.”

“Hmmm…I dunno Steve, you really think I have people clamoring over each other for a shot at all this?” he gestures down himself with his free hand.

“You know what? I hope not; I’ve been in enough fights already, I don’t think I can take an elbow to the face.”

Okay, of all things Eddie thought might happen tonight, Steve admitting he’d legitimately fight for a chance with him (HIm! Eddie Munson!!) wasn’t on the list.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just grins down toward his lap, cheeks burning.

The car pulls to a stop then, and Steve says “Keep your eyes closed!” before he can even think about opening them.

Eddie’s seat sags a bit without Steve’s weight on the other end to balance him out. He hears him shuffle out and shut his door behind him, and doesn’t even get to ten whole seconds before his own door is opened.

“Give me your hands, but keep your eyes closed.” Steve says, grabbing both Eddie’s hands in his.

Steve helps him out of the car and leads them forward about 10 paces before pulling him down to sit beside him on something soft.

“Okay, you can open them.”

Eddie’s immediately blinded by the bright orange glow of the sun, just starting to set on the far side of the quarry before them.

“So no, not a restaurant...just didn’t want to miss this.” Steve says, a smile in his voice that pulls Eddie’s attention away from the blooming pinks and oranges of the sky.

Steve’s already smiling at him when he turns, then he gestures down at the blanket under them.

An honest-to-god picnic basket is set between their outstretched legs, a bottle of something leaned up against it. “So. We’ve got grapes, cheese, sandwiches, chips, pop, and even some wine.”

Holy shit. “What, no chocolate covered strawberries?”

Steve holds up a finger, flips open and digs into the bottom of the basket, retrieving a flat white box. He opens it with a “Ta da!”; a dozen chocolate covered strawberries.

“Damn Harrington, you really know how to make your dates feel special.” Eddie’s throat clenches around the words, as if he’s suddenly remembering this isn’t really for him.

“That’s the idea,” he winks

Eddie flushes red immediately, of course, stammering out a “So this is the King Steve Special, huh?”

Steve glances up at him while he unwraps some of the sandwiches. “Nope, this is the Just Steve Special.” He passes Eddie a bologna and mustard, his favorite (What the fuck??) “King Steve wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble. Would’ve just snuck in a window, made out in some random bathroom at a party.” he shrugs and picks up a ham sandwich for himself (Gross..), taking a bite. “Just Steve is trying all the things he probably should have been doing all along.”

“Well..I enjoy Just Steve’s choice of venue.”

“Even though it’s not a fancy restaurant?” There’s a glob of mayo on his lip (which Eddie thinks is‘Still gross, but also somehow super fuckin’ endearing.’)

“If you were at a fancy restaurant, you couldn’t touch the other person as easily.” Eddie proves his point by knocking a knee against the other man’s. “Also you’d have to wear stuffy fancy clothes.” Eddie shudders for emphasis.

“Says the guy who got dressed up in his nice shirt tonight.”

“Shut up… you’re not supposed to know this is my only nice shirt.”

“If that’s your only one, what are you going to wear on future dates?”

"Only need the one shirt." Eddie shrugs. “I wasn’t kidding earlier, Stevie. Breaking news! Local freak doesn’t go on dates regularly.”

“That just sucks for them then.” Steve places his hand over Eddie’s knee, “Never see how great a date with the Eddie Munson would be.”

Eddie’s face feels hot, but he can’t hold back the grin that climbs up his cheeks.

“Well then aren’t you a lucky guy then, huh Stevie?”

“Yeah Eds, I really am.” Steve is smiling back and holy shit, is he leaning closer?

‘Oh fuck, I am too…ShitShitShitHolySh–’

The klaxon alarms ringing in his head stall out immediately, when a firefly decides to light up the shrinking gap between their noses.

“Ah! Fuck!” Steve flails backwards, throwing himself away from the harmless little bug.

Eddie can’t help but laugh, “Oh come on, you can’t really be scared of a little lightning bug?” He cups his hands in front of the bug’s lazy flight path, catching it in one of his palms.

“Fireflies are weird as shit, man. And yes, I do mean even more so than the demo-whatevers.”

“C’mon Steve, just look at him!” He pushes his hand forward into Steve’s space and giggles a bit at his reaction, somehow unwilling to leave their picnic blanket, but wanting to get away from Eddie’s hand just as much has him practically laying all the way down on his back with his legs still crossed in front of him.

“I’m serious Ed, get that thing away from me!”

There's a hint of a laugh in his voice, so Eddie continues his teasing, sitting up on his knees to get closer. “OOOH what if I put it in your haiiirr..”

Steve’s laugh sounds hysterical, “No! Don’t you fuckin’ dare! Asshole!” he yells, batting at Eddie’s hand.

“Awe come on Stevie! What if he loves yo–and he’s gone.” the little guy flying away when Steve’s hand pulls at Eddie’s extended arm.

Eddie flops forwards onto Steve’s stomach with an “oof!” watching the little thing blink away from them.

“Oh thank god.”

He looks down and holy shit.

Steve’s smiling softly up at him, his hair all mussed from Eddie trying to grab at it and Steve keeping Eddie from grabbing it, but goddamn is he still beautiful.

Also: ‘Holy shit I’m laying right on top of him shitshitshitshit..’

Before he can do something stupid, like lean down and kiss the fuck out of Steve’s beautiful face, Eddie rolls onto his back and looks up at the sky instead, head pillowed on Steve’s arm.

They talk for hours like that. Lain out under the darkening sky. It’s the longest date Eddie’s ever been on.

By the time Steve says “I should probably get you home,” the other fireflies that had danced around them as the sun set have disappeared, the previously clear sky is rolling over with thin clouds, blocking the stars.

The strawberries are gone, the cheese is gone, half the sandwiches, and most of the pop. They hadn’t touched the wine.

Eddie sighs in disappointment. “Yeah, probably.”

They pack up the basket, tossing it and the blanket (wrapped around the unopened bottle of wine) into Steve’s trunk and head back to the trailer.

The ride back is a comfortable quiet.

Windows down to the cooling late summer air, Eddie’s hand dipping and diving on the air currents that fly by, radio playing whatever station Robin had left it on last time plays at a low volume..

Too soon, the wheels of Steve’s trusty beemer crunch over the gravel pad that is Eddie’s driveway.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you to the door.” Steve smiles, slipping out the driver side with a hand clasped on the roof.

Just to be a little shit, Eddie doesn’t move. Letting Steve get all the way around the hood of his car before realizing he’s still sitting there.

He stares at him in confusion, so Eddie clarifies. “Oh, I have to get the door myself this time?” he questions, opening the door to another loud laugh from Steve, “You might wanna remember to get the door for your next date, Stevie.”

“Sure Eds, I’ll remember.”

Eddie nods, walking past him and up the steps to the front door with Steve on his heels.

“So? What did you think? How was it?”

Eddie looks up to the ceiling of the porch while he pretends to think about it. “Hmmm…I’m kinda disappointed, actually.” he looks back at his friend, who’s already sporting a kicked-puppy look. “I thought you said I was going to find out how a date with you would end.”

Steve chuckles as Eddie heaves an over-exaggerated, put-upon sigh.

“I said you might, doofus.”

Eddie sighs again, “I didn’t even get a goodnight kiss..” and turns his back to Steve, pulling his keys out of his pocket..

He’s stopped from doing so, however, as Steve hooks a hand above his elbow and pulls Eddie back to him.

His other hand comes up to Eddie’s cheek and Steve leans forward, planting a soft kiss to Eddie’s lips.

Eddie blinks owlishly at him, sputtering as Steve pulls back, eyes blown wide.

So of course this is when he decides to panic. To run.

“So..” Eddie carefully pulls himself free of Streve’s grasp. “Thanks for taking me out tonight.” he manages to say, focusing on keeping his voice even while he turns away to unlock the door.

“Eddie–”

“Any girl would be lucky to go on a date with you.” Damn doorknob always gets jammed.

“Ed–”

“And I would know! I was just on that date, it was great!” Ugh, finally! The knob unlocks with a thick clunk. 

“I don’t want anyone else!”

Everything around them freezes.

Eddie turns slowly to face Steve again. “...What?”

“I don’t want to take anyone else on any more dates! I don’t want the same awkward first date questions, I don’t want the kiss goodnight and that be it, I want something real with someone who knows me. 

“I want you, Eddie.”

Warmth blooms in Eddie’s chest. Hope and affection that’s so damn close to that scary four-letter word already…he pulls Steve in for another kiss without even thinking about it.

Steve kisses him back, soft and slow, before Eddie pulls back enough to whisper “Would you care to see how a date with me usually ends, Stevie?”

Steve doesn’t need to know he’s talking straight outta his ass; Eddie hasn’t had a date that ended at his doorstep like this. No dates at all, in fact, but when Steve gives him a wide-eyed nod, he hauls him inside and down the hall.

Eddie all but throws Steve into his bedroom, slamming the door behind them.

He sidles forward to the perfect being in front of him and places both hands on his shoulders, spinning them both and pushing Steve backwards onto his bed.

“You wanna know what I’d want someone who took me out for a picnic at sunset to do to me?” he asks, already climbing into Steve’s lap.

“Yeah…yeah,” Steve’s voice is all breath, his hands coming up to rest under the hem of his shirt. “Tell me what you want.”

He leans in close to Steve’s ear, his heart clenching when Steve automatically wraps his arms tighter around him, “I want you to fuck me.”

Sex with Steeeeeve Harrington is something Eddie won’t soon forget.

The feeling of Steve’s hands on him, first his waist, his back, his chest…softly caressing his jaw. The feeling of Steve’s lips on his skin, his length sliding against his own, the feeling of fullness from Steve’s fingers, his cock.

The pace he took, one of a lover and not of just another hook-up. Listening to him, checking in with him.

Eddie silently hoped to whatever being out there that this wasn’t going to be something he’d have to subsist on by memory alone. That this was something he could have for a while to come.

Speaking of…

“Ah! Aw fuck—Steve, please..faster…”

“Fuck—yeah? You want it faster, baby?” 

“Yes! Yes, just like that—oohhh fuck me.”

“You got it darling.” Eddie can hear the smirk in Steve’s voice even though he can’t see it; his head thrown back on his own pillow in pleasure. He can feel the muscles in Steve’s thighs move faster, harder, beneath his.

“I’m cu—oh fuck…Steve, I’m—”

“Yeah, yes, fuuuck me too, Eddie—shit—Eddie, Ed——

…die! Eddie!!”

“Wha–What?”

Eddie blinks. 

They’re back at Family Video.

They’re back at Family fucking Video.

“You okay man? You were zoned out for a second.”

“Y-yeah,” Eddie clears his throat of the weird mix of sadness, arousal, anger, and embarrassment in his voice, “I’m good.”

“You sure? I showed you that girl’s number and you like, completely zoned out.” Steve waves the very much not crumbled and tossed little slip of paper around in his hand while he talks.

“Yeah, I’m good. She just looked familiar somehow, I couldn’t figure it out though.” Eddie lies.

He can’t quite make himself look his friend in the eye, so he only sees Steve’s shoulders sag slightly in relief out of the corner of his vision while he picks at a hangnail. 

“I thought you got Vecna’d, dude. Was about to call a code red over the walkie.”

“Nah, I’m all good Stevie, promise. So where are you gonna take her? Maybe a picnic down at the quarry? Could be cool at sunset..”

“Dude, that's a great idea!” Eddie can hear the excited smile in Steve’s voice.

He risks a glance to the other man’s face and feels his insides screw up in shame. The heat that shoots through him at the sight of those kind eyes he just recently saw hovering over his own is too much to handle. Time to make excuses.

Glancing away immediately, he says “You’re welcome man, have fun.” before pushing himself off the counter and, in the strangest case of deja vu ever, heads to the door while waving over his shoulder. “I gotta run though, good luck with the babes, Steve-o!” he calls, cheerily as he can, not able to look back at the man that will never be his.

i hope you enjoyed lex!!! all i have to say is 😈

#eheheheeh #i cannot express how LITTLE this was proof-read #i'm sure i will find mistakes when i re-read after posting and fix them lmao #LexsSummerFanworksChallenge #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #st #stranger things #st ficlet #st oneshot #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie oneshot #noelle writes #putting this tag at the bottom for spoiler-y reasons but: i've had this idea in my drafts called 'steddie psych out' since the end of may

[phyrestartr]

The Intern [2] | Miguel O'hara x M!Reader

#NSFW, Age Gap (mid 20s and mid 30s), reader's a homewrecker, Miguel's a cheater, mentions of toxic marriage, male!reader, bussy loading, porn with feelings, Miguel's a bit of a dickhead, top Miguel (for now), bottom reader (for now), blowjob, reader gets lectured and likes it, reader has daddy issues

Note: heheheheh

-- The Intern --

[ How it Started: 1/2 ] [2/2]

Miguel had to admit, he was surprised–he didn’t expect you to carry on like nothing happened.

Most people he’d fucked around with in the past, be it in school or during his tenacious dating life, would stomp their feet and quit whatever club, sport, or job they’d joined just to get close to Miguel, just to get a shot with him. He couldn’t blame them. He saw himself as a pretty good-looking guy, a smart man, one that took care of himself and could turn on the charm without even trying; he got what he wanted more often than not, and that included the people who threw themselves at him. He always wondered why they thought they’d somehow cement themselves into his life after just one night. 

But then there was you. You, who still sat with Gabi when you had the time. You, who still helped her with her homework, who still listened to her long-winded rants about whatever movie she obsessed over that week, who still got the shy little thing to talk and smile and laugh. It made something weird and thick weigh down Miguel’s chest, like molasses found a way to suffocate him from the outside. Maybe you didn’t deserve to be fucked and forgotten like the rest. 

And he found you there, still, on a day where Gabi was busy with a playdate at the Parker’s household. Maybe this was the best chance he’d get to talk to you again. 

“Alone, huh?” Miguel asked before sitting across from you, a cup of coffee warming his hands. “Kinda sad.”

You sighed and looked out the window, filled to the brim with drama. “You’re tellin’ me. I got abandoned by a kid. This is worse than bein’ stood up, let me tell ya.” 

Yikes. Was what Miguel did the same as standing you up? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to think about it too much. 

"Right, right." Miguel cleared his throat and leaned in a little. "About the other night–" 

"What?" You asked, looking a little too dumb for your internship spot suddenly. 

"Halloween." Miguel looked at you meaningfully and your lips pursed slowly, just like the day he first saw you. Miguel gave a tight-lipped smile. 

You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms. "I, uh, dunno if this is the right place to talk about that. Dunno if there is a right place to talk about that, if 'm bein' honest." 

"Let's talk in my office," Miguel said, not offering room for argument or questions as he stood and started walking. 

"Wh–now?" 

"Yes, now." 

–

Well, you were supposed to be talking, not blowing him under the desk. Thank god the department heads got their own private spaces. 

One of Miguel's big hands fisted in your hair, holding back your soft locks so he could get a good look at your face as it twisted in concentration. You took him too easily for how big he was, each languid dip of your head welcoming him down your tight, hot throat until–until–

"Mierda–" Miguel pushed your head down to his base, forcing your nose flush up against his well-trimmed hair and blushing skin. You groaned and gagged as he bucked into your mouth and unloaded thick, sticky strands of cum down your throat. You swallowed around him, doing your best to take it all down. 

A harsh bite from you had Miguel letting go and leaning back in his seat. He panted and rubbed his face, but his eyes snapped back to you as you took your time getting off of him. He expected you to pull off and make a mess while you snapped and scolded him, but you went slowly, not rushing. 

Your tongue worked him through the aftershocks, rubbing under his length and thoughtfully tracing the thick veins and sensitive muscle still pulsing from your pampering. Miguel's fingers carded through your hair again as he watched you work; your hand slipped up and gripped his base once enough was out of your mouth to hold. You ran your tongue around him once, twice, thrice, before sucking on that thick, darkened head for much longer than necessary. Maybe you just wanted to be thorough. Maybe you just couldn't get enough of him. 

"Gonna get me worked up again, 'f you keep doing shit like that," Miguel warned, something of an excited laugh fluttering through this soft panting. 

You took a second to swallow (Oh, God, you were torturing him) before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Do you want me to get you all worked up again, Doc?" 

That pesky hand around his shaft tightened before stroking him firmly and fully. Miguel sighed and melted into his chair. He could probably let you pamper him for hours, if his sex drive were to be trusted. Maybe he could–

"Kidding," you said with a mean wink. You kissed the tip of his cock before letting go and parking your ass on his desk. "So. About Halloween?" 

Miguel blinked away the whiplash and scrambled to tuck himself away. "I, uh–yeah. Halloween." He nodded to himself in thought, definitely remembering what he wanted to discuss. 

You stared at him, so expectant, before leaning in and resting your elbows on your knees. "N'awe, did I suck the brain cells right outta your pretty head, Doc?" You fake pouted, and Miguel scowled. 

And he blushed. Just a little. "I just–I was just–y'know what? Maybe you deserved it."

"Pft. I deserved what?" You asked, leaning back onto your palms then. “Bein’ hit then quit?” 

Miguel frowned. His brows drew together and his jaw set uncomfortably while he looked away. It seemed to make you a little uncomfortable by the way you moved to reach toward him before deciding against it. Your hand combed through your hair instead and you sighed, surrendering. 

“Look, I–if I seriously expected the royal treatment from a guy totin’ a wedding band on his pretty lil’ finger, I’d be a shockin’ moron, alright?" You sighed and rubbed your face with both hands. "I mean--it's just s'pposed to be sex, man. Sex ain't complicated like that." 

Miguel narrowed his eyes at you. "I’m–what are you–sex is complicated." His palms landed on your thighs as he leaned in. “You don’t actually think–”

"Sex is busting and moving on with life,” You interrupted sharply. You grew tense for a moment, but forced a relaxed laugh. “I'm kinda surprised you didn't get me fired, if I'm being real."  

The realization hit Miguel fast and hard, knocking the goddamn wind out of his stupid lungs--you were the type of guy left in the dust, the sort that shit heads like Miguel hit and quit, fucked and forgot. The sorry dregs of an exciting sex life filled with names he didn't care about and some he couldn't bother to remember. But Miguel knew your name. But did that even matter to you?

"But, uh…I should get goin', so. Yeah. Good talk." You made your move to shuffle off the desk, but Miguel's hands on your thighs didn't budge. "Oy, I gotta go, old man. You hard of hearing already? Should I call the nursing home or–" 

"Santa Muerte, do you ever stop talking?" Miguel sighed and shook his head. "I haven't said my piece yet, kid." 

You pursed your lips, probably holding back some cursed joke about giving him a blowie, and nodded. "Okay. Say your piece." 

"I will. And you're gonna shut up while I talk, got it?" 

"Got it." 

"Good." Miguel took a deep breath to calm the storm in his chest. "First of all, you've got the wrong idea about sex. It matters. Even if you're just sleeping around, it's because you're looking for that connection. It's a good thing. A beautiful thing. So, I don't want to hear you say all this shit about sex not mattering. Especially when you're talking about sex with me." He looked you up and down, and the fond feeling curled up his chest stretched and lazed like a cat sunbathing. "Got it?" 

You nodded, a vibrant dusting of red saturating your skin. That doe-eyed look was back on your face, just like the first time you'd hooked up with him in his office. He really did adore it. He maybe kinda adored you. 

"Good." He fidgeted with your slacks, pulling on the crisp material with busy fingers as he thought about sentence structure and syntax and connotation and–and– 

Just say it, Miguel. "I shouldn't have left you on Halloween." 

You laughed shyly. "I--what?" He watched you rub your cheek like you were trying to rid yourself of the scarlet blush staining your skin. Miguel had to admit, your reactions were doing wonders for his ego. 

"I said," He started, leaning in a little, lowering his voice. "I shouldn't have left you on Halloween." After a pause, a beat to get you to say something, he continued, "I'm sorry, alright? It's not happening again." 

Another laugh (more like a giggle) bubbled out of you, just as nervous and shy as the last. Your hands fussed with your hair and your tie, your lab coat and your cuffs, until your nerves calmed a bit, the slow circles rubbed into your thighs helping to ease you down from hysteria. It was embarrassing. You were embarrassed. But you were happy.

"Y-yeah, alright. Cool. Neat." You coughed. "Awesome. Uh, I just–you–I have to–" and you leaned down, almost tumbling off the desk, and kissed him. 

Miguel hummed deep in his chest–a heartfelt welcome to your needs and wants. His chair shifted slightly as you haphazardly slipped off the desk and into his lap, expertly never breaking the kiss, and getting comfortable; your arms looped around his shoulders, your hands fisted and carded through his hair, your thighs rested on either side of his slim waist. 

“You’re shockin’ hot when you’re bein’ nice t’ me,” you mumbled against his lips, maybe a bit into his mouth. “But in that, y’know, authoritative dad kinda way.” Your breath stuttered when a mischievous hand slipped into your slacks and cupped your toned ass with a firm squeeze. 

Miguel smirked. “Daddy issues, huh?” Your small scoff and the firm tug of his hair answered him. His smirk warped into a grin. “Want me to scold you more, huh? You get off on that?” 

“You keep talkin’ shit and I’m calling you papi in public, dickhead,” you mumbled as you fumbled with the zipper of his pants. You paused though, and looked up in thought. “But you could help me with my taxes. That’d be really sexy of you.” 

Miguel blinked stupidly for a moment before chuckling and shaking his head. “Why am I not surprised you’re shit at taxes?” God, you were cute. 

“Hey, hey, I’m not shit at them, I just hate them.” You shrugged before very casually slipping his hard-on out of his pants and giving it a few preparatory strokes. “Could use some tips.”

“Or an accountant,” Miguel offered. It was your turn to blink dumbly. “You think I handle my own money? I pay someone to do it.” 

“Huh. You’re seriously in a different tax bracket.” You squeaked when Miguel somehow managed to rip down your slacks down to your mid-thigh. “Hey–” 

“I’ll buy you a new pair.” He helped the pants off of you while you half-stood to get the damn things off, letting them hang off one leg in your haste to get the party started. “And I’ll get my accountant to take care of your taxes.” 

That had you beaming. “I think we’re entering sugar daddy territory, Doc.” You grinned between the sweet kisses you dotted along his jawline. Miguel felt the barest scraping of teeth against his skin, and his cock swelled more. What he wouldn’t give to let you bite and marr him as you wanted. 

But he couldn’t, not with Dana’s skeptical eyes and Gabi’s naive glances watching him from every angle. 

“It’s our little secret,” Miguel whispered with a kiss left against your cheek. 

Your lips found his again, letting your  impish smile sear his skin with sanguine intent, like a contract signed with the devil. 

Miguel would do anything to keep extending that contract. 

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #male reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #male!reader #atsv male!reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr #smut

[cursingtoji]

Hi pretty baby!! How are u doing it’s been a lil while 🥰💕 I came by bc I just saw your event! I was thinking sexual tension with Aki from csm could be fun for you to do if you like (more fun for me to read I’m sure ahfksjfjd) anyway I hope ur doing good ily mwah mwah xx

𝑺𝒆𝒙𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝑻𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏

luxe you have no idea how happy i got when i saw your ask 💕 this means a lot thank you for joining 💕 The Clichés ™

— peek summer in japan.

the small devil you two were fighting wasn’t strong or even fast, but the heat wave made you all slow and weak, so when it ran in your direction you couldn’t attack it properly, instead you get knocked over and fell down the stairs of the abandoned building.

“fuck” you murmured hazily, aki ran towards you offering a hand, when you took it and tried to get up your ankle protested and you lost balance hissing from the pain.

aki was quick to steady you by your waist, you looked up where your partner’s face was mere inches from yours, mesmerizing blue eyes too close for comfort.

his forehead was shiny with sweat. a few hairs sticking to it, the first few buttons of his shirt were open and sleeves rolled up. even his tie was hanging low. it was the first time you saw him that disheveled and it made your legs weak.

“the devil escaped” you muttered.

“i know” he muttered back with you still in his arms, “there’s a hospital not too far from—“

“no, they’ll tell me to put ice and rest, i’ll just go home” you tried to put some weight on the twisted (maybe broken) ankle and almost fell again but aki’s hands tighten up around you.

“my place is closer, let’s go” he let go of you to turn around flexing his knees slightly for you to hop on his back.

your arms went around his neck and legs wrapped on his hips. aki gulped to the feeling of your breasts pressed on his back, he straightened himself and tried to adjust you by holding your thighs but his hands went a little bit too far squeezing your ass accidentally to which he immediately apologized.

“you didn’t have to offer me a piggyback ride if all you wanted was to grab my ass, hayakawa” you giggled and his ears got pink.

“as if i wanted to grab your sweaty ass on purpose” he started to walk with you on his back as easy as carrying a simple backpack.

“shut up, i can literally feel how drenched your back is.”

you and aki bickering/flirting was nothing but normal, whenever denji was around to witness it he always said something along the lines of “get a room”. now it’s different cause you have never been this close to each other before, aki kept talking about how inevitable it was for him to get this sticky when tokyo was under 100% humility that week, but this trivial conversation was only to distract him for having your arms around him and your legs brushing against his crotch. you of course was also affected by the proximity, he smelled fresh even after sweating all day, you teased him about his sweaty back but thanks to it you could feel the muscles under his shirt.

when you arrived to his building you tried to let go of him but he held your legs.

“what you doing?” he asked.

“i’m not climbing those stairs on your back, what if you fall back and crush me to death?” you placed your good foot on the floor.

“yeah cause i’m the one that fell down the stairs and broke my foot.”

“i was pushed by the devil you let escape.”

“i only let it escape after he knocked your dumbass. now come here cause i have things to do” aki bent and took you bridal style all the way up stairs, a great way to shut you up, “devil got your tongue?”

“fuck off, hayakawa” you turned your head so he wouldn’t see your cheeks heating up.

somehow he managed to open his door, kick his shoes off with you still on his lap and enter the quiet house.

“where—“

“they’re with kishibe” he answered knowing what your question was going to be.

you got placed on the couch and quickly sat up to take a look at your ankle but aki was faster.

“it’s pretty swelled” he held your leg up by your calf, when he tried to roll your pants up he touched your ankle and your pulled your leg back hissing in pain, “you can’t put ice on top of your pants” he justified.

“these are skinny jeans, i can’t roll it up, especially now” you looked down at your ankle, the hem was already too tight around it.

“then you’re gonna have to take it off” he simply told you before turning around.

“is this your plan to see me naked?” you playfully narrowed your eyes at him.

“yeah this all just part of it” he replied sarcastically and picked the thick throw blanket from the couch to toss at you.

“ew i’m not covering myself with that, it’s hot as fuck already” you pushed the blanket off of you.

“you’re really fucking annoying you know that?” he huffed and disappeared into a room, coming back with a bed sheet that went straight to your face, it smelled like aki and you guessed it was his bedsheet.

“do you always treat your guests like that? rude!” you barked back unbuttoning your jeans and pushing it down one leg easily but carefully with the other.

aki stood there waiting for you to take them off completely before handing you the frozen food package he picked, he didn’t mean to stare but he ended up taking a peek at your red underwear while you struggled with the hem of the tight black jeans (which he obviously noted when you met in the morning), he cleared his suddenly dry throat removing his tie and opening a few buttons of his shirt.

“don’t you have a fan or something?” you asked when you managed to kick the pants off and used the sheets to cover your bottom.

“power broke it” he walked over to the glass door and opened, it wasn’t enough to cool you down but it was slightly better. aki took your legs and sat with them on top of his lap — since the couch was small — carefully putting the frozen package on top of it. “better?” he asked with one hand touching the skin above the swollen area.

“i’m gonna get all wet” you replied without thinking your choice of words throughout “i mean— from the heat and… the ice… melting and…” when you met aki’s eyes they were dark, he was breathing heavily and when he noticed a droplet going from your temple all the way down your cleavage he couldn’t help the groan that left his throat. why did you have to say things like that? and look at him like this? and have the softest fucking skin?

it happened fast, he placed your leg on his shoulder before he took an impulse to close the gap between you two and kiss you like he wanted to have done for a long time ago. aki’s lips were soft and he tasted like the cigarette he was smoking earlier, you were panting on each other’s lips in little to no time.

in a swift move aki ripped the sheet out of your body and you were quick to wrap your other leg around him, his crotch directly brushing against the damp spot of your underwear. he kissed your neck, the sweat being almost like an aphrodisiac to him.

“you are all wet” he breathed against your clothed core, using the words you said earlier.

“fuck you” you sighed when you felt his fingers exploring the shape of your pussy

“yeah, fuck me” when aki was about to dive in like a thirsty man the door opened.

denji took one step with a knocked out power hanging on his shoulder, he was killed countless times that day by kishibe and couldn’t wait to hit the bed, so when he looked up to see aki staring wide eyed at him with his hair falling off the ponytail, a girl’s leg on his shoulder and his bed sheets all over the floor, he tiredly sighed and turned around carrying power who started to question what he was doing.

“you own me big time, topknot”.

See also: Wet transparent shirt — Denji

#aki x reader #chainsaw man x reader #pov aki opening the door an hour later and dragging denji and power inside while you bath #csm x reader #aki x you #aki smut #csm smut #— the cliches ™

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

congrats on 2222!! soulmate au with frankie would be so cute. I love frankie sm he’s just the cutest 😍

Hi lovely! Thank you for this prompt. I was a bit apprehensive because I've read one (1) soulmate AU in my entire life and wasn't sure if I could do it justice. But obviously, Frankie takes this by the ears and I just had the best time writing it. This is also a college AU because apparently I love AUs set with Pedro boys in college 🤷🏻‍♀️

This drabble is actually an AU of an upcoming fic I have in the works, called Summer House (with a lot less angst and pain). I hope you like it sweet anon!

Frankie Morales x soulmates AU

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover micro drabble request | 1346 words (sorry) | warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, college AU, inexperienced reader, drinking games, friends to soulmates

Sometimes, you wonder what colour Frankie’s eyes are.

It’s not something you wonder about often, not when everyone has grey eyes - but not really. One day, when you kiss your soulmate for the first time, you will see their eye colour, and they will see yours.

So you definitely don’t have any business wondering anything of the kind about Frankie at all, seeing that you two do not get along. Never have, probably never will, despite having been in the same close knit group since you were kids. Benny has long played the second to your principal in your duels with Frankie, while Santi is his, with Will keeping the peace whenever you get into a particularly thorny disagreement.

But that’s the funny thing about friendship. Despite your bickering, you got his back, and you know he has yours.

You’ve heard about it once or twice through the grapevine in high school, but finding one’s soulmate seems to be a dime a dozen in college, with happy news dropping left, right and centre throughout the academic year.

While you’re not in a hurry to find your fated other half, you start thinking that you should at least get started with the kissing part. You’re way behind your friends and peers on that front, somehow missing out on the formative experience despite being a regular fixture at house parties at high school, then sorority parties in your freshman year in college.

You really should blame the boys. No one wants to risk messing with a girl who has three hulking seniors and one equally hulking sophomore at her beck and call, not when there are far easier options around.

But you know it’s not just that, and you’ll only admit it when you're drunkenly tucking yourself into bed, alone yet again after another party. It feels like you’re the only person your age who’s still (stupidly) holding onto the hope that your first kiss can be something, not just a sloppy makeout session with too much tongue and too little meaning.

And so you find yourself, still never been kissed, when summer rolls around at the end of your first year at college. Your gang of five is about to shrink to just you and Benny, with the rest of the boys enlisting after they graduate, and the impending farewell upsets you more than you care to show.

The five of you spend the first week together at the Millers’ summer house after school lets out, as has been tradition since you were kids - with your parents when you were younger, but it’s been just kids for the last few years.

Well, just the kids plus one, since Frankie always brings a girlfriend. Unfailingly, it's someone beautiful with perfect hair who has a wandering eye for the other boys, and hates your guts for being the only girl in the group.

On the last night, the guys invite a select crowd over for one final hurrah before they go home and get ready to ship out to basic training the following week. Music is booming, cheap beer is flowing, and you’re all in the garden, the sticky Floridian heat clinging to you like a second skin.

Ironically, it’s Frankie’s girlfriend who wants to play spin the bottle. He sits opposite you, his Standard Oil cap pulled over his eyes but failing to hide his annoyance at being forced to participate. You roll your eyes at him across the circle, and he gives you a middle finger back.

Will, the self-appointed gamesmaster, spins the bottle set on a pizza box atop the lawn.

It spins, and spins, and spins - until it doesn’t.

You look on in sheer horror when the bottle stutters to a stop squarely before you, the other end pointing at Frankie, who turns green with nausea.

‘FUCK NO!’

You attempt to run, only to be tackled to the ground by Santi, who practically hauls you by the waist back to the circle as you kick and scream.

Frankie, on the other hand, has to be restrained by both Miller brothers.

‘I have a girlfriend!’ he shouts, digging the heels of his beat-up sneakers into the grass.

She doesn’t seem to mind though, clapping gleefully along with everyone else, chanting, ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’

Shoved toe to toe in the middle of the circle under watchful eyes, you exchange vicious glares. Frankie’s broad shoulders are hunched over defensively, arms crossed. It’s strange, you’ve known him forever, but this is probably physically the closest you’ve ever been to each other without being locked in a fist fight.

Warmth bounces off his tightly wound up frame as he towers over you, and by some folly, you feel an inexplicable pull.

You fight the staggering want to bury your nose in that grey tshirt (the one he wears Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and restocks at Old Navy when it wears too thin), to swipe that hat off his head to brush the curls from his face, to look into his eyes - and see what colour they are.

In the end, Frankie breaks first - you’re not sure if it’s the jeering and goading from the crowd or your stubborn standoff that makes him snap. Grabbing you by the elbow, he hauls you firmly into his chest before you can react.

You should be embarrassed, mortified that this is how you’re going to end up losing your first kiss. And yet, losing doesn't seem like the right word.

There’s a deep-seated calmness inside you, knowing that it’s going to be Frankie. The boy you’ve known since you were three, the teenager who used to make you cry with stupid juvenile pranks, and the man now who wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch if anyone even looks at you the wrong way.

As soon as the tip of his proud nose brushes yours, your eyes slide shut of their own accord - and he kisses you.

God, his lips are so soft. Your breath catches in your throat, and your knees wobble so dangerously that your fingers twist into the front of his tshirt, holding on for dear life.

Can he tell that you don’t know how to kiss, at all? Does he think you’re terrible? The fact that this feels so fucking perfect despite having no idea what you’re doing sets you on edge, a magnifying glass trained on your inexperience in a way that makes you stiffen with nerves and awkwardness. 

He must be appalled at how bad you are, especially after the litany of gorgeous, more experienced girls he’s been with over the years. You can’t believe you’re subjecting him to this, how would he ever look you in the eye afterwards -

But then, something shifts when his hands find your waist, palms easily spanning the small of your back as he pulls back for air, but only just, still so close that you can feel the tickle of his beard on your chin. There’s an unmistakable hitch in his breath, a tremour as he exhales, which in turns makes you tremble and switches off the unwelcome commentary in your head.

It’s as if he wants you.

Before you can think too hard, Frankie leans in and kisses you again, harder this time, the tip of his tongue tracing the seam of your mouth, and heat chases down your spine like a meteor. He sucks on your bottom lip when it falls open in a gasp, dipping between your lips with a clever swipe of his tongue against yours that makes you shudder and whimper, which he swallows with a possessive growl.

Your lungs are burning when he draws back, his nose still touching yours.

Then he calls your name.

You blink as your eyes open -

Frankie’s staring at you, lips parted, his gaze reverential. Like he’s never seen you before. Reaching up, he takes your face in his hands, calloused palms on your cheeks, thumbs swiping away the tears that won’t stop. You break into a watery grin, which he mirrors, a warm chuckle rumbling in his chest, holding you close as everything falls into place -

Frankie’s eyes are brown.

Note: In case it's not clear, in this fic, everyone’s eyes appear grey. You can only see your soulmate's eye colour after you kiss them for the first time.

#fuckyeah2222sleepover #frankie morales fanfiction #francisco morales fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales soulmates au #frankie morales college au #frankie morales imagine

[tteokdoroki]

— my darling, be selfish. + diluc ragnivindr.

— author’s note: this is for my baby sowa @usoratonkachi the only one i love bye

— warning(s): smut, mdni 18+, heavy!somno, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), creampies, love making hehe, praise, fem!reader.

“d-diluc…”

“yes, darling?”

diluc is a giving lover, he’ll never take unless you insist. your needs are always above his own because he cares for you deeply, more than he has for anyone else in his life… but this morning, he just couldn’t help himself. in the summer heat, when your night robes ride up and reveal plains of plush and blemished skin to the hungry eyes of the dark night— how is he expected to resist? to be a gentleman when you look like a morning angel laying against his sheets. he barely needs to pry you apart, practiced finger tips cascading down your thighs easily, and you open up for him like a flower blossoming towards the heat of the sunlight in spring.

you’re so pretty, my archons. between your thighs lies a treasure diluc hopes is his to keep— the scent of you only serving to ignite the flames of desire burning in his chest. he ties back his hair before he kisses up your thighs, across your stomach and smiles into your pussy when you whine for him in your sleep. even like this, despite how badly he needs you, diluc prods softly at your clit with the tip of his tongue— knowing just what gets you wet enough to take him.

oh, you’re his sweet girl— clutching the sheets beside you while your sweet dreams turn into something more sultry. diluc watches the contours of your face as your lips twist and pout and sighs like a song bird’s tune slip from between them as his tongue slips into you, fucking you as if it were his hard aching cock nestled against the sheets right now. you taste like the finest wine ever crafted, you feel like the softest thing he’s ever touched. you can’t be real, akin to a figment of diluc’s imagination while he catches your juices on the pallet of his tongue before they can roll down between your cheeks in sweet droplets.

“m…mmn, d-diluc,” you somehow manage in your sleep, still not awake but not immune to your lover’s selfish mouth on you— sucking away at what your puffy folds have to offer, taking from you when he usually gives. the red head groans deep into your cunt, wet and sticky and all his for the taking— and his hips involuntarily buck into the bed beneath you both when you moan so loud it might rattle the neighbours.

with fleeting regret, the dark knight pulls away from your dripping pussy to ease his equally sloppy cock— heavily coated with a thick white layer of his slick precum and seed— between your shiny, spit covered thighs and against your fluttering hole. “i know darling, archons, i know. i’m here,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as he shakily pushes into you, desperately chasing the feeling of being able to bottom out within your silken walls. “i’ve got you, my sweetest girl.” and when he does, it’s like the gates of heaven have opened up, and diluc pulls back from the warmth of your cunt to thrust into you, all the way up to the hilt.

were you always this tight? so pliant and ready to be fucked? diluc doesn’t know, he doesn’t care— because you cling to him as if it’s instinct, fingers twitching up to the warmth of his body fuelled by his pyro vision and the slick walls of your cunt clamp down on the forked veins of his cock as they drag against your sensitive spots that only he can reach. only when his milky tip brushes hard against your g-spot while diluc builds a pace steady enough to rock the bed, do your eyes start to flutter, lashes brushing against his cheek’s as he presses his face close to yours— breath fanning over your skin warmly.

“d-diluc…”

“yes, darling?”

your sleepy eyes meet fiery red ones, and your mouth forms an ‘o’ as diluc pushes at your thighs until your ankles lock at the small of his back and the angle his dick hits inside you changes just right. “more…m-more,” you plead softly, rolling your own hips upwards— fingers flying to red locks of hair to tug diluc up from biting and kissing and marking your bouncing chest so you can have your lips on his. “g-give me more.” you moan into his open mouth, his strawberry tongue sliding over yours and spreading the taste of yourself across it. it’s a messy exchange of early morning i love yous, unspoken words and feelings of lust as diluc pounds away at your sloppy pussy with even more vigour than before.

squelching sounds of your sexes fill the early morning air, the dark knight practically carving your shape into the mattress with how deep he’s fucking you— hips rolling slowly into yours while his cock churns up your insides and turns a milky shade of white as your juices cream against him. balls slap against the curve of your ass, adding to the tune of your love making while diluc selfishly gasps and grunts your name— taking it as his. taking you as his. it’s far from appropriate to make you such a mess so early on in the day, your cheeks wet with crystal tears, face a little hot and your skin shining with spit and sweat as your bodies move together…but if it was so inappropriate you should never have been so beautiful and tempting in the first place.

diluc’s abs contract against the softness of your tummy, his hips circling, cock twitching against your walls furiously as a wet and crude mix of your juices slides between your folds. “can you take more, my love?” he asks you earnestly, the rough pads of his fingers making their way between your bodies to draw shapes on your swollen, abused little clit. “can you cum for me darling?” he asks you again, voice sweet but dominated by lust and adoration as you shake beneath the dark knight hero, taking what he gives you. you squeeze down on him, nearly causing the man to choke but making his hips stutter. “ah, i know you can darling. be good, let me know when you’re close. you’ve been good all morning, i want…fuck i want to make you cum.”

you grip his wrist, moans rising in octave and in volume— eyes threatening to roll back in your skull. “d-diluc… i-im close. oh please…oh please. please.” this time you beg, and diluc loses his ability to be selfish— smiling down at you with so much as he pinches your clit and gives you exactly what your body’s been craving, exactly what you need. he draws his cock all the way out, let’s you squirm for just a moment more before plunging all the way into your soiled, slippery walls and watches as the world falls apart behind your glassy doe eyes.

“cum for me, darling.”

and you do just that, the world of colours flashing across your mind as you just let it go. your release splashes out against diluc’s tummy in waves that he doesn’t stop fucking you through, a fond but airy chuckle escaping his lips while you cream on his cock like the good, sweet thing you are. “that’s it, you’ve been so good…so good.” he mumbles, face tucked into your neck as he rides out your high with shallow thrusts and a stuttering pace before reaching his own climax— thick and heavy ropes of his white seed painting your insides, so much so that it seeps out and sticks to your puffy folds.

diluc can sometimes be a selfish lover, but only when it comes down to having you and being able to make you see stars and feel pleasure whenever he damn well pleases. especially when it ends in mornings like this, where he makes you a mess and soils the sheets.

#tteokdoroki #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnivindr smut #diluc ragnivindr imagines #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc smut #diluc thirst #diluc drabbles #diluc headcanons #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin thirsts #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #this is queued lol #tw: somnophilia #ily sowa #🗑. aali’s chatroom

[kwiwrites]

SOFT BODYGUARD REGULUS AND JAMES BECAUSE I. COULDN'T HELP IT

/// The Morning After | 574 words | Bodyguard Regulus

for u @veryinnovative winky face winky face

“Hey.” 

Regulus blinks gently, and his eyes flick up from where they were admiring James’ sloping collarbones just a second before. “What.” 

James grins, cheeky and wide. A cat that got the cream. “How unprofessional is it to fuck your client?”

Immediately, his eyes slit, and Regulus reaches over to swiftly flick the soft skin at James’ bare hipbone. “How hard is it to shut the fuck up?” 

Humming, he pretends to mull it over. James’ lips lift up into a smile again, and he pushes closer to Regulus, tangling their bodies even more: limbs wrapping around waists, noses nudging into shoulders and lips brushing against jaws and teeth. Regulus makes a soft noise of surprise, and his nose scrunches up in that adorable kitten-like way of his that makes James want to bite it- still, unsurprisingly, he melts into the embrace, pushing his face into the juncture of James’ neck. 

“Pretty hard.” James murmurs. Almost instinctively, he breathes in deep, inhaling that sweet scent of gunsmoke and strawberry shampoo that Regulus always seems to smell like. He loves it. 

“I hate you.” Regulus grunts. 

“Mmm. You had no qualms about fucking me though.” 

Regulus groans, and kicks lightly at James’ calf. James grins into his hair and snags his leg with his arm, hitching it up around his waist. “Fuck off. You’re so annoying.” 

“You love it, though.” James says, smirking in triumph when Regulus doesn’t deny it.” 

There’s another deep groan, muffled into his bare skin. “I’m going to get in so much trouble because of you. Dorcas is going to kill me for sleeping with my client. That’s like- rule number one of bodyguard etiquette. Don't fuck the client- don't date the client.” 

James shrugs, a motion which jostles them both. Regulus whines softly when his death grip on James’ waist slips, and he presses in again, wrapping his arms even more securely around him. 

“Don’t tell her then.” 

“She’s my manager.” 

“All the more reason to not tell her.” 

“You’re a terrible influence.” 

“I am.” James says, happily. He pulls back, slightly, hands warm around the back of Regulus’ neck, and oh- there he is. 

Regulus blinks up at him, nose still wrinkled, eyes wide and stormy and his hair is sleep-mussed and he’s sweaty and smells of sex and blood and there’s a little bit of lube still smeared on the sheets from their little adventure the previous night- and really it should be gross. With anyone else it would be gross. 

But god- it’s Regulus. Regulus who fights tooth and nail to protect him. Regulus who has killed for him. Regulus who stays up with him on late nights and indulges his mindless wine-drunk ramblings and Regulus who danced with him on Christmas and kissed him on New Years because no one else was there and it’s Regulus, who's supposedly his bodyguard but somehow became something so much more. 

“Hi.” James says, and his smile feels like it’s splitting his face open. A fault-line through earth, filling with wildflowers. 

The sunlight falls across Regulus in thick, dusty bars, and his face is lit with amber, spilling into the crevices of his teeth, onto his tongue. It pools, honey-orange, in his pupils. His flaky lips are tilted up into a quiet, gentle sort of smile that James wants to press his own mouth into and swallow. Drink him in, and he would probably taste like sticky tangerine juice.  

“Hi.” Regulus murmurs, and his tone is so hopelessly fond that James kind of just falls apart right there. 

#jegulus #marauders #regulus black #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders era #fanfiction #bodyguard regulus #swoons #microfic

[littledollll]

So it goes..

Lucifer Morningstar x reader

A/n: another 10 year one finally done! I wrote this back in October. Idk If I love this but it’s decent and it’s content, so yay!

This one the poll! It’s not my proudest work but I hope y’all enjoy.

Warnings: just a lot of description, mentions of overstim, back scratching, a mess.

____________________________________

Messy wouldn’t even begin to describe that night. It was passionate, needy, desperate. It also felt intimate, and deeply romantic.

The room was filled with moans, gasps of pleasure, and that annoying creaking of the bed each time they thrusted into you with abandon. It wouldn’t be the first time the bed breaks under your tangled, and unbearably hot bodies.

How you got here was a blur, but a part of you was fine not knowing the answer as to how, not when you were busy digging your nails painfully into the shoulder blades of your beloved devil. Something about hearing them hiss in pain made you lose your mind.

Lucifer’s lips, their cheek and all the way down their jaw to their neck, all littered with kisses and delightfully marked in your lipstick... you think they look beautiful, but they’ll certainly wipe it all away the second this is over, so you enjoy the sight as much as you can.

You could hear the wet, sticky noise between your bodies, which only served to turn you even more if that was even possible. It was dirty, so very dirty, you loved every second. Your nails dragged down Lucifer’s back the closer and closer you got, and you were met with groans and moans in return as they nuzzled into your neck, a shiver going down their spine and to the very tip of their wings, making them flutter.

The thought of stopping after you both came undone never seemed to reach your minds. There was no hesitation, not even consideration for it as Lucifer mindlessly continued, with you blindly giving into them.

Contrasting their hard and fast thrusts, Lucifer’s hand so softly made it way between your bodies, gently caressing over your torso, your stomach, your hips, the outside of your thighs so readily available for them, so pliable under their gentle hold. They could feel each muscle twitch under their fingertips as breathy moans slipped past your lips at every touch.

Their eyes were drunk in pleasure and yours lost in ecstasy. It’s anything but slow but certainly romantic. Them being submissive to you, and you to them. An equal about of worship for each other going both ways and yet you know little about what exactly initiated this almost animalistic need between you.

Which is why it took you by surprise when suddenly, Lucifer’s weight pressed down on you. Not completely, as they held themselves up by their forearms situated on each side of your head. You could feel almost every inch of their skin touching yours.

The change of pace was certainly welcome as it was about time you took a break, you both knew that yet actively refused to. So infatuated with each other and too lost in the moment to you’ve yourselves a chance to actually breathe for once. But their thrusts became slow, and deep. Lucifer’s face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, giving you the perfect chance to listen and enjoy their sweet moans and whimpers.

You relaxed at the comfortable pace, feeling a soft sigh against your neck as one of your hands lightly grasped at their hip, the other wandering into their messy hair with a gentle caress.

Seeing their lazy thrusts and clingy attitude you quickly realized they were significantly more far gone than you were. Giving them a light squeeze on the hip just to make sure they’d hear you, you spoke softly. “are you alright, my love?” They only hummed in response, pressing a light kiss on your pulse point.

“You don’t want to stop, do you?” Lucifer could tell you were feeling amused by their state. They whimpered, slightly embarrassed by their own needy behavior, but nodded regardless.

Everything felt so overstimulating at this point. Yet it somehow didn’t make them want to stop. “Gonna stay nice and slow?” You asked, your voice breathy and worn out. Lucifer shifted to look at you for a moment. Wanting to make sure you were truly okay with this, that you wanted to and weren’t just complying for them.

Taking the chance, you pulled them into a kiss. There was nothing desperate about it, just a soft and reassuring kiss. Once again, you trailed open-mouthed kisses over their cheek, down their jaw until you reached their collarbones, being rewarded by a moan or whine following each.

You giggled as you looked up at them to find hazy, love-filled eyes staring back at you, and definitely more than ready to continue.

#lucifer sandman smut #the sandman #lucifer sandman #sandman lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar the sandman #sandman lucifer morningstar x reader #gwendoline christie #sandman lucifer #the sandman lucifer smut #lucifer morningstar (the sandman) #the sandman lucifer morningstar x reader

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  HAND OF BLOOD

SUMMARY : “Hey can i request one where the reader is Dean Winchester wife and she just found that she is whatever supernatural creature and him just cuddling with her and help her using her new powers?? something fluff and cute” - anon

PAIRING : dean winchester x powered!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS :  unnamed villain, sam winchester, castiel

WARNINGS/TAGS : fluff, angst, comfort, trauma

WORD COUNT : 1.0k

A/N : bullet for my valentine song title. trying some new ways of writing bc university sucks, anyway, you can imagine the reader to be whatever magical/super-powered being from the show, I didn’t specify x

“Stop holding back, you could… you know… do something for me and I will let you go, alive,” the dark voice of the monster before you made a shiver run up your spine. Your stomach churned nervously, but you gave in anyway.

“Do what?” You sobbed, tugging helplessly at the chains around tour wrist.

You felt a warm breath by your cheek and you inhaled sharply, your body instantly tightened with stress.

“A little bit of magic,” the words brushed against your ear and neck. And you didn’t think you could shiver any harder than you already were, but your body shook with a shudder and your muscles clenched tighter, somehow.

“I can’t do magic,” you whispered with defeat, trying not to cry when a hand squeezed around your throat. “I’m not a witch,” you struggled to breathe through the tight grip.

Whatever the thing was that held you captive, squeezed your throat so tight you could feel your frantic heart beat against its palm. Then, the grip loosened with a frustrated growl, an impatient sound, desperate.

“But you are something,” it insisted through clenched teeth, “something very powerful.”

“I’ve never even… I think you’ve got the wrong person,” you argued weakly. Your body slowly relaxed and you accepted whatever your fate was.

You didn’t bother letting your eyes fall shut, you didn’t bother trying to squint and making something out of your surroundings. The pitch black room revealed nothing to you. All you could smell was dank air and dirt, hear the echo of yours and your captor’s breath against concrete walls and floor. The occasionally clink of the metal that bound you to the floor, the rustle of leaves with the shuffle of feet.

“I don’t have the wrong person. I think you’ve been holding back,” the voice grinned and two hands pressed against either side of your temples. “Why don’t we go back to the biggest hits? To all those times you’ve felt powerless?”

“You know… this doesn’t change the way I see you,” Dean promised, kissing your forehead. He absentmindedly played with a strand of your hair and kissed your cheek when you sniffled.

“I can’t… what if I can’t control it?” You whispered, wiping away tears with your sleeve as they flowed from your eyes with no end in sight.

“Hey, you’re such a control freak, I doubt you’ll let your powers beat you,” Dean grinned in attempts to cheer you up, but you were barely able to muster up a smile. You generally found Dean hilarious, something he knew well enough to find a way to cheer you up easily. Even when you had no idea what he was saying, he always made you laugh. It was always that dorky, boyish grin of his that made you crack up.

Dean shimmied down on the bed so he could face you. He sighed and gave you a weak smile. You were embarrassed of your wet eyes and swollen lips, but you knew Dean wasn’t judging you, and that’s why letting yourself fall apart was always so easy to do when you were with him.

“We’ve gone through worse and we’ve come out pretty damn alright.” His hand landed gently on your flushed, hot cheek. You finally looked into his gentle eyes, through watery vision and sticky lashes he still looked beautiful. “I promise that I will help you in any way that I can, sweetheart. So will, Sam. And so will Cas. We’re a family, you’re not gunna do this alone. Okay?”

Dean waited for you to nod. You almost couldn’t breath with the way he looked at you. With his soft green eyes glowing with determination, and kindness, and empathy. It hurt so much that you just nodded, and buried your face in his chest so that all the emotions in his eyes wouldn’t get to you and make you break down again.

He held you close to him and chuckled softly. He pressed his lips to the top of your head and soothingly rubbed your back while you clung to the warm layers on his body.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dean gasped out a laugh, hunching over with his hands on his knees. “You’re not dangerous at all, you just suck at this. So… don’t be nervous.”

You glared at Dean as he struggled to breathe and wheezed out another laugh. Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with one arm crossed over his firm chest. Even Cas seemed irritated with Dean; he rolled his eyes and let his hands slap against his thighs in defeat, his powers slowly fading.

“This isn’t easy and you’re doing great,” Sam encouraged you and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly when he made his way across to you. “Cas, again,” he tipped his head towards you and returned next to Dean to elbow him in his ribs.

Dean squirmed and wiped tears of laughter from his eyes, his eyes shimmering with flirtatiousness when they opened back up to you and the glare you sent his way. He wiggled his brows and smacked his tongue above the roof of his mouth, and you couldn’t resist the tiny smile from growing on your face. Or the blush that began to heat up your face, the skipped beat of you once fearful heart, the clench of your stomach. Yup, Dean still had it.

“Try to… um, just don’t hit us… well, you can hit Dean,” Sam snickered, ignoring the glare Dean shot at him. You grinned when Dean glanced back at you and you picked yourself. He sneaked behind Sam to hide from you and the way you unfortunately sucked at using your abilities. Most of your anxiousness disappeared, and Cas smiled reassuringly when he powered up.

You didn’t think things could be any better, all things considered. New powers, new you. But most importantly, your relationship with Dean, Sam, and Cas seemed to get better in the past seven months, like this one bad thing that happened to you didn’t get between you… instead, it wove the four of you together, and squeezed tight like a knitted blanket. Despite the fear, the anxiety, the uncertainty of what you were now, you felt warm, safe, and secure. With the people you call your family.

You had Dean to thank for that. And everyone else’s for falling into your life so perfectly.

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