#i love these lil oily guys

[tkachukapologist]

having a little giggle (01.20.24)

#ryan mcleod #warren foegele #edmonton oilers #nhl #hockey #nhl gif #hockey gif #aria.gif #i love these lil oily guys #THATS MY TEAM BABY WOOOOOOO

[fauvester]

Ask Game for someone’s OC(s): ✨🍀🍎🍩 svsss ocs?

OOOOH DAAAAA MOSHANG KIDDOS!

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

I like making fankids... my cringe fandom achilles heel... and it would be funny if they weren't like golden halo protags and were instead kind of cringe.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

OH THE MONEYSHOT!

My hot take is that moshang would earnestly do their best to parent but have a lot of baggage that would make it challenging to emotionally connect with children (in addition to 2-3 very time consuming logistical jobs taking up their time.) They're definitely the best parents in SVSSS but the bar is in the Abyss. They love them, but they're not always the best at showing it in a way that they understand.

Oldest son and crown prince Xuejiao (proud, spoiled, inclined to be lazy, prone to crippling migraines that render him indisposed and a bitch) gets along best with Qinghua. Both of them collect palace gossip and like to micromanage; Qinghua gets back into writing and Xuejiao enjoys proofreading while lounging on his father's bed like he owns the place (not the smutty stuff, though, at least he's not supposed to read that.)

He and Mobei Jun have a respectful but distant relationship. I think deep down XJ has some shame that he isn't as proactive about preparing for and fighting for the throne as MBJ, but as a teen he doesn't want to enough to do something about it so he just avoids those feelings by avoiding his father. They're both very aloof and really need a sticky extrovert to bring them out of their shells..

Tiehan by all accounts should get along best with Qinghua because he's the BAAaAaAaAbY and he's small and smiley and very very talkative. But that's all superficial, and underneath that thin layer of cultivated silliness he's as mercenary and brutal as any demon. Mobei Jun is happy to have a child that jumps at the chance to go on hunting trips and put down minor rebellions with him (XJ is NOT leaving his chaise lounge to go OUTSIDE, THANK YOU.) He tramps around in muddy shoes and brings beasts into the palace. Qinghua feels a little guilty that he really can't stand to be around his youngest for more than an hour at a time.

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Other than Various influences in the Northern court that initially conspired to try to poison the crown prince as a baby (those influences are no longer present, or living, and have been rendered unto a soup like homogenate) the closest thing either has to a nemesis is probably the head disciple of Bai Zhan Peak that Xuejiao was inflicted on. She's a jock and a bit of a bully but in her defense her new shidi (who she was NOT consulted on the admission of into her cohort) is arrogant, spoiled and completely disregards her authority. And she can't beat his ass too badly because Liu Qingge himself specifically brought him in to train (at Shang Qinghua's prostrated begging request)

It's always the lot of the Bai Zhan seniors to have beef with half demons, it's how things are done.

#sv3 #moshang #MY FUCKING UHHHHHHH SVSSS KID OCS!!! #mbj seeing young XJ reading military history like ah... he will be a fine strategist. XJ like ugh cant believe my lord father wont let me #read his FUN stories. im just going to sit here and imagine these generals making out. #tiehan... is probably literate...........maybe #i love that young MBJ was such a snotty spoiled little brat lol yes my king! bitch it up! pass it down to your heir! #i like to think that some of SQHs pathetic oily whimpering is a strategy to get people to underestimate him while he quietly outmaneuvers e #tiehan also tries to get people to underestimate him.. class clown short king then BAM! ice beam. ice beam and then you die #hides behind MBJ NOOO YOU CANT HIT ME IM JUST A LITTLE BABYYY. YOU WOULDNT HIT A LITTLE GUY WOULD YOU *knocking arrow* A LIL FELLA?!? HUH?? #mbj mildly endeared because it reminds him of his gorgeous pathetic wet husband that didnt come crusading with them

[uncouth-the-fifth]

click, p.2 - Sam Winchester/Reader

read it on ao3.

Pairing: Sam Winchester/Reader (late s5) Tags/Warnings: angst, love confessions, romantic sex, oral sex/cunnilingus, (aka, Sam pussy addiction: the shequel), Sam is Lucifer's vessel, reader is AFAB. Word Count: ~11k. Notes: i was commissioned for the second time by the lovely @daffodil-mania, who wanted a continuation of her last fic set during the "say yes" era of s5. (sooooo dangerous to let me put my grubby hands on this version of Sam, btw). i cannot express how BUCK FUCKING WILD uncouth-nation went for the first part of this fic, so this is for all the wonderful people who gushed over click, commented, threw me some kudos, or even just read it and liked it. lots of love, and i hope you enjoy <3 i did my best to rip out your soul as best i could. THIS CAN STAND ON IT'S OWNNN AHHH. i mean. if u wanna read it <3 Ask to be added to my taglists for future posts!

FIVE YEARS LATER

The walk from the bus stop to your apartment is a safe and easy seven minutes. If you were any other person in any other world, you’d glide onto the bus after your night shift at the university, hop off at your stop, and bumble toward your apartment without a single care in the world. Maybe stare at your phone the whole walk back. Text a hot guy who isn’t the physical manifestation of the devil on earth. Normal stuff.

But this is your life, so you sit front seat on the bus, hands in your lap, tapping a nervous beat against the angel blade hidden in your book bag. The windows rattle in their frames and gleam with rain. You could get off at your stop and take those easy seven minutes home—but the bus driver could also be a demon, so.

Since you aren’t in the mood to die a slow death tonight, walking a few extra blocks to keep anybody from knowing where you live will have to work.

On day two of this, you’d called Dean and asked if you were being extra paranoid. He’d kindly pointed out: Extra-paranoid is just extra-survival. I dunno about you, but survivin’ a lil’ extra sounds fan-fuckin-tastic to me right about now.

He’s right. You know he’s right. But it still doesn’t feel like a good answer, and that makes you picture Sam, twenty-three and still bright-eyed, running his fingers down your bare back and scowling. I’m sick of surviving. One of these days, I want to actually live my life.

But that had been before the apocalypse, before Dean’s deal, before everything. Sam was a different man now. Hunting had reached into all three of you and ripped all sorts of things out, but you would never forgive it for taking Sam’s hope for something better. God, you missed that Sam. You missed him more than anything.

The city bus lumbers up to the curb and spits you out onto the sidewalk, where you superstitiously hover, waiting for the other passengers crawling away from their night shifts to scatter. It’s only when the bus is a dark spot in the mist down the street that you start to walk, your whole body caked head to toe with oily rain. 

This time, you take a random left toward your apartment and serpentine street-to-street, never walking the exact same way the same week. By the time you’re closer to where the bus could’ve actually dropped you off, the lingering smell of old research books has been practically power-washed out of your clothes. You try to think of anything but the freezing, biting, face-stinging rain… and, like a moth to a flame, your mind floats back to Sam.

It’s been over two weeks since he dropped the nuclear option. Over two weeks ago, Sam wanted to say yes to Lucifer, and over two weeks have passed since the massive, unstoppable-force-meets-immovable-object fight that’d erupted as a result.

Dean had blown up. Sam had pushed. You’d burst into tears and clawed into Sam just as deep, because why, why would he ever go there—why would that even be a fathomable possibility in his mind? Did he really think so low of himself? How could he ever give up like that? How could he leave you—?

The worst part was easily the way Sam had reacted. With Dean or John, he could yell himself hoarse, but when it came to fighting you all he could do was sit and take it. He put his head down and nodded at everything you said, even the cruel things. In some ways it made you angrier, but also inconceivably, cosmically guilty. This was Sam’s choice. And of course, because this was Sam, his choice was to save the whole goddamn world. Not a single bone in your body carried that level of selflessness, yet Sam bled the stuff.

You were still furious with him, but only because being mad at him was the only option you had left. The right thing to do would be to tell Sam, I trust you to make this decision, this is your life, and let him take that jump… But you didn’t have it in you. Saying that felt like pushing him over the ledge yourself, or telling him you’d never cared about him in the first place. If you were angry at least you were still fighting for him in some way.

You’d been on board for everything—trying to find a way out of Dean’s deal, trying to kill Lilith, everything. But the argument with Sam had torn out the final piece of you that could stand this, so you packed a bag, told Dean you’d be in a strict research-only role, and booked it back to your hometown. It was cowardly and stupid and beyond selfish, but you knew your stance. The hunt had taken everything from you. You refused to let it take Sam, too.

Maybe, Sam would take you stepping away as a serious sign to change his mind. You couldn’t imagine a world where Sam and his Winchester stubbornness would ever do that, but. It was a nice wish to hold onto.

By the time you make it up the steps to your apartment building, you’re soaked to the bone and audibly making pathetic shivering sounds. Your bookbag feels heavier than ever, digging a trench into your shoulder as you fish around for your keys. The second your apartment door is open the true weight of your exhaustion hits you—

—and then utterly disappears, replaced by a shock of pure adrenaline.

There’s a new pair of boots by your front door.

You catch the heavy door before it goes swinging against the doorjamb, straining your ears against the ringing silence. The bedside lamp is on in your room.

On dead-quiet feet, you slip in, click the door shut behind you, and slip off your bookbag. Your angel blade is in your hand in a second, but you risk a few extra steps toward your kitchen table to wiggle loose the pistol you taped underneath. Just the weight of your weapons in your hands flicks the hunter muscle memory back on in your body, and before you can think you’re hiding in the shadow beside your bedroom door. Listening.

Soft breathing. The pages of a book turning.

You know, instinctively, who it is—you would know him dumb and blind and dead. But these days, anybody could be piloting his body around.

You suck in a deep breath through your nose, heart throbbing in your ears. You wait until the fingers on your gun aren’t shaking anymore, then burst inside the room, slamming the door into the wall and whipping your pistol up to eye level.

Sam’s head flinches towards you. He is exactly as you saw him two weeks ago; solemn, determined, and open, the air around him practically steaming with safety and goodness. He’s sat comfortably on your bed, reading a book he brought with him. Despite everything, your belly still curls with butterflies when you lay eyes on him. Sam. Definitely Sam, and no one else.

Still, your paranoia has gotten you this far. You both stare at each other for a beat, equal parts scared out of your minds and relieved. Without a word, you keep your gun trained on him, and Sam lets you, his eyes big and understanding. You shuffle sideways to your dresser, and without turning away from him, pop open the top drawer and toss him the silver flask of holy water you keep hidden inside. 

He catches it. So, not a shapeshifter, then. Sam takes a drink of the holy water, even turning to the side so you can see the water go into his mouth. (A demon in Missouri had slipped past the three of you by pretending to sip—only Sam would know that.) You’re still a little terrified, but you manage to pull your weapons back down to your sides. You still don’t know what to say.

He’s really here. The part of you that had worried the argument with Sam would be your last wails with joy. He’s here, alive and in front of you. No matter how awkward you feel you can’t bring yourself to stop staring at him. By the buttery light of your bedside lamp, he literally glows with beauty, and you realize he’d scrubbed his boots off on your welcome mat to not track mud in, and he’d hung up his rain-soaked jacket in your shower to dry. Stupid polite Sam things.

You dare to glance back at your kitchen, then swivel to squint at him. “Did you… do my dishes?”

Sam lets his hands relax into his lap and nods, shy. He’s looking at you in a way he never really has before, eyes big and soul-rending. “…Yeah. I used the key you gave me to get in… Hope that’s okay.”

There’s another long pause. Usually when you stare at Sam, he doesn’t stare so intensely back, but you share a weird mutual moment where you just stand there and take each other in. It’s so obvious it’s painful, but if he’s doing it then you feel entitled to devour him with your eyes too.

“I got, uh, bored. Waiting for you,” Sam clarifies. “Thought I’d make myself useful.”

Sam stands from the bed. For a second you think he’s heading straight for you, but he moves toward the dresser behind you, kindly tucking the holy water back where it was stowed. You flit out of his way as fast as you can and set your weapons down on the closest available surface, feeling off-kilter. Why would he come here? Is he going to tell you that he changed his mind?

You hold onto the question, but you know it’s too out of character to hope for. Despair sinks into your gut like a rock in a pond. You know why Sam’s here. He would never make this decision without telling you first—without at least saying goodbye in person.

Your throat locks up with tears.

Behind you, Sam hums, “You changed your hair.”

Right. You’d altered it to be more undercover. You resist the urge to reach up and play with your hair, or give in to any of the fluttery feelings you always feel around Sam. “It’s safer.” Tightly, you ask him, “What are you doing here?”

Sam drags a long breath through his nose. You clutch the end of your bookshelf, your chest crumpling with misery. Please don’t say it. Please, please, lie to me if you have to.

“...I’m not taking the jump,” Sam breathes.

There’s more that he says after that. He talks about how you and Dean are right, and how, surely, after everything that the three of you have been through, there’s got to be another way to end this. You’ve always found another way in the past. Sam explains all this to you in a sure, quiet voice, like this is something he’s thought about for a long time, but you barely hear him after those first words. There’s this persistent tension in your chest that’s telling you that there’s something wrong here, but you don’t care—you don’t give a single fucking shit, because Sam—Sam isn’t saying yes. Sam’s staying.

“…are other ways I can make up for the mistakes I made,” he’s telling you, scrambling to fill the nagging silence.

You take a moment to force back your tears, and Sam, nervously, keeps talking.

He swallows, trying to smile. “I-I would’ve called and told you, but something tells me you wouldn’t have picked up.”

When you’ve got your bearings back, you push away from your bookshelf and turn to face him. Your legs are so leaden that you feel as if you have to physically pick up your body and drop it down the other direction, but you manage it. “What… what made you change your mind?”

Sam gets one look at your face and wilts with guilt. He doesn’t answer your question in words—just shoves his hands in his pockets and stares down at his feet, then around your room, as if his reason was in the air with the two of you. In the apartment. His eyes flicker over you just once, and you understand. Seeing you leave really had scared him.

“Be careful,” you start to joke with him, “you start validating my childish reactions and we’re gonna have a whole new set of problems on our hands.”

Sam scoffs. “It wasn’t childish to run away.”

You raise an eyebrow at his word choice, which gets an honest-to-god laugh out of him. A real good Sam Winchester laugh, dimples and all. The last dregs of anxiety in your gut melt at the sound, and Sam reassures you, shrugging, “You needed to get out. In case you forgot, I kind of invented wanting to get out. I understand. I really do.”

You know that he does. That’s not exactly going to stop you from feeling guilty about ditching them, but at least it kicked some sense into him. God. For the last five or six years, your every moment had been spent with Sam and his brother. Even just a couple weeks without him had drained you, and having him back only makes those feelings more clear. Sam’s presence commands the space in a way that turns your shitty, undecorated bedroom into someplace magical, someplace good and safe and warm, and just seeing him standing there draws the ache out of your spine.

Your reach out for his sleeve. Somehow, he’s more real than ever, a tangible person instead of the memory you’ve chased for so long.

“You’re really not saying yes?”

Sam unwinds your hand from the fabric so he can hold it instead, your fingers scooped in his fingers. You’re given a firm squeeze and are hypnotized by him in an instant, the world narrowing down to this moment between just him and just you.

Sam looks into your eyes when he promises, “I’m not going anywhere.”

The tears you’d resisted before return in one big, merciless wave. You’re so tired and the rain was so fucking cold and you’re so sick of being scared that Sam, thank god, Sam, is everything you could possibly need. He’s not going anywhere. Before you can stop yourself you’re clutching him for dear life, shoving your face in his shirt and crushing his body against yours. These last few weeks have submerged you in survival mode, and you don’t realize how deep until Sam pulls you out of the current. He’s warm and dry, and when you inhale to sob he smells like a 24-hour-laundromat, the Impala, and home home home. You could’ve lost that. You could’ve lost him.

“Th-thank you,” you choke out at nothing in particular, “thank you.”

You’ve cried a lot this week, so there are not many tears left to shed. Still, Sam holds you through all of them, swaying back and forth with you and cooing in your ear. You hear him sniffling too. When you’re both all sobbed out, you pull back to tell him you love him, to remind him of all the things he needs to hear, but Sam strangely doesn’t let you. The second he feels you pull away he clutches you back against him, and you get the uneasy impression that you’ve been comforting him more than he’s been comforting you. His whole body’s shaking.

Sam hugs you for longer than he ever has before. It’s a little worrying, but you’ve both needed it so much that you don’t even complain.

After a while, Sam slips back, and in traditional Winchester fashion tries to play off his vulnerability. He’s always been a dead-silent crier, so you have zero way to gauge how bad things are until you see his face. He looks like he’d sobbed his heart out. Your shirt is still wet from the rain, but even then you can feel Sam’s tears soaking your shoulder. Saying anything about it will just embarrass him, though.

“...I-I, uh,” you lick the tears off your lips, mumbling, “I don’t know bout’ you, but I’m beat. Do you have somewhere you gotta be, or,” you add hopefully, “or can you stick around?”

This is the part where Sam will start coaxing you to drive back with him to where he and Dean are holed up, you’re sure of it. You’re already plotting in your head what to pack and what to take, but Sam never brings it up. He doesn’t worry about tomorrow yet.

He presses his lips together. “I was hoping I could stay here tonight, actually.”

This is an even better answer. You’re nodding before he’s even finished the thought, stroking your hand down his chest. It twists your gut in knots to see him like this, so you start to steer the conversation toward something more playful, something less daunting to think about.

“You’re lucky I like you then,” you smirk. Somehow, you manage to peel yourself out of his bubble and teeter toward your dresser, scrubbing the tears off your face. “Make yourself comfortable. I dunno about you, but I’m getting the fuck out of these work clothes, I’m freezing. Do you need anything to sleep in? I’ve got at least five years of your stolen shirts in here.”

You hear him ease himself down on the end of your bed again, but there’s no sassy retort, sly comment, or any sort of line about you and your stealing habits. Instead, sweet and simple, he says, “I’ll just sleep in this. You can have them.”

Okay. Weird.

Since he didn’t take the bait, you throw out another line and try again. This time, you kick off your shoes, open a drawer, and turn back to him with two of his shirts in hand. “Really?” You wave them teasingly in the air. “You sure?”

They are some of his best shirts, easy. You’re not a cheap thief. The first is a holey, feather-soft Red Hot Chili Peppers tee, and the second is a deep maroon Stanford sweater. He has so few artifacts from that time in his life that there’s no way he won’t want this one back. Right?

But Sam just gazes at you, his whole face soft and loving as he says, “You should wear the Stanford one. It looks good on you.”

Those old hot-shivery feelings for him seep down your spine, and you feel in real-time how your cheeks flood with heat. Damn, okay. Consider yourself wooed.

You’ve been down this road with Sam many, many times—enough to know when he’s flirting with you. The forbidden labels had never been thrown around, but. Well. Sam had been your first time, as well as the many other times after that.

He’s usually leagues more subtle than his brother, but for whatever reason he’s pouring it on by the truckload tonight. When you turn around he’s nothing but big, happy puppy eyes, waiting patiently for you at the end of the bed. (Like you’re his girlfriend. Like anything about this is normal at all, and you and Sam are going to tuck into bed together like it’s any other night). Fuck, you missed him.

The bathroom is only a few steps away, but this is Sam, so you decide to just throw on your pajamas right here. Your shirt is so wet that it hits the floor with a slap. It also takes some experience to wring yourself out of your denim-turned-cement jeans, so it’s not the sexiest show in the entire world. Still, Sam’s gaze traces sensual lines down your back. You would rather go to literal, actual hell than wear your bra for a minute longer, so the second you’re free of its death grip, a long happy sigh drains out of you. A similar dreamy sigh drains out of Sam. Dork.

“I will never get tired of that,” Sam murmurs. You expect to hear some kind of hunger there, but the timber of his voice bleeds with admiration and fondness.

There are very few ways to be a normal human being while Sam Winchester adores your nude body with his eyes. The best you can do is burst into flustered, giggly laughter and give him a good eyeroll, your entire face cooking like a stove burner.

“Alright, loverboy,” you scoff, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and take my makeup off—”

“Can I help?” Sam asks.

You sputter out another laugh, confused. “You wanna brush my teeth for me?”

“No,” Sam shakes his head, smiling big, “Lemme take your makeup off for you.”

Okay. Weirder. But it’s sweet, and you like this side of him, so you decide to indulge his mood. “...Sure.”

You go about your night-time routine. Sam continues to be a weirdo, trailing you into the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe, and blinking slow endearing blinks at you as he… watches you brush your teeth. Just. Stands there, watching, utterly enamored with this little moment of domesticity with you. On the surface level you’re a little thrown off, but it falls under the category of Freaky Sam Things that made you catch feelings for him in the first place, so. You grin into your toothbrush the whole time.

When he’s satisfied by his little ogling fest, he drifts off to hunt around for your makeup wipes. Either you’re predictable or he knows you too well, because he finds them within seconds, and patiently sits back as you finish up your routine, watching you like you’ll disappear on him the moment he turns away. Click click, you feel inside you.

“Okay,” he says when you’re done. “Close your eyes.”

You do. You wait for the cool touch of the wipe on your face, but instead, Sam’s big, rough fingers find your chin and hold you still. It takes conscience effort to not melt into his touch like a cat in a square of sunlight. Your willpower is nothing on Sam’s, though, so you give in quickly, sinking into his hand and sighing through your nose. In gentle swipes, he cleans your face. It must be a nightmare of smeared mascara considering how you’d cried earlier… And yet Sam had still been so transfixed by you. He’s the fucking best.

Sam’s hand tilts your head from side to side to survey his handiwork. Pleased, he tosses the wipe in the trash and says, “There you go.”

You open your eyes and go to double-check his work in the mirror, but Sam hasn’t removed his hand from your chin, and you really, really don’t want him to. His thick thumb comes up and caresses under your lips. He looks at you like he loves you, and with all the honesty in the world, he utters, “...You are so pretty.”

…The only way for you to survive this is by throwing him a dry look. “You’re full of shit. What’s your game, Winchester?”

That earns you another authentic Sam laugh, along with a handsome boyish smile. “There’s no game. What are you talking about?”

You squint at him. Liar.

“This.” You gestured between the two of you, suspicious. “You’re mooning over me. Why are you mooning? Are you planning something?”

A ripple of discomfort rolls across Sam’s face, but it passes too fast for you to read. His hands go right back in his pockets and he leans into the doorframe again. “I’m just… happy we’re not fighting,” he confesses.

Oh. That makes sense. Sam hasn’t exactly made up with you like that before, but. These times change everyone. You ease up on your teasing and admit, “Me too.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you away,” Sam says, and far, far too seriously for your liking, he whispers, “I’m sorry for everything.”

Your answer slips right out of your mouth without hesitation. “I forgive you, stupid,” your brows furrow together. “And I’m sorry, too. I said some pretty shitty stuff back there.”

Sam wilts against the doorframe a little. “Nothing I didn’t deserve.”

A dull pulse of anger flares in your chest, which flickers out and dies not a second later. There’s so much you want to say to that.

It is so fucking unfair—biblically, cosmically unfair—that Sam, the good guy to end all good guys, thinks of himself this way. He is the kind of righteous they make saints out of. And yet he sits in your silly little bathroom in your shitty little apartment and gives you that look, the look that says, I deserve this and so much more. I deserve to rot in hell for all eternity. He gave you that exact look when he brought up saying yes. He gives it to you now, because Sam sees everything as a sin to serve penance for—freeing Lucifer from the cage and making you a little worried. He thinks he’s so evil, so beyond saving. It makes you want to get your fists in your shirt and just shake him. 

You’re good! You want to scream. Just for once in your life, listen to me! None of this is your fault!

There’s nothing you could say to him that would ever make him let go of his guilt. But, at the very least, you could help him forget about it for a while.

“You beat yourself up too much,” you scold. Then, softer, you add, “C’mere, Sammy.”

Sam does as told, planting himself right in front of you. God, he’s changed. You look him over with a bittersweet smile. He used to be so spindly. The last few years have filled him out, forcing his body into something ready for war. The hunt reached in and tore all sorts of things out of people, but you’d been wrong about what it’d ripped out of Sam. His optimism was still there, warm and humming in the tissue of his body, and just seeing it fills you with hope. He looks so different from the man you’d had all to yourself in that cabin, but you can feel that he’s still in there. He’s still your Sam.

You take his face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs into his dimples and quietly, needily rasping, “...Can I take care of you?”

Sam’s whole body shudders with relief. “Please, yes.”

The next few beats of this dance haven’t changed. Like always, Sam comes flying in with a big, smashing kiss that shatters any leftover barriers between you. You’re not Sam’s girlfriend and he’s not your boyfriend, but Sam makes you his with this kiss. (If only for a little while). Your noses mash together and his eyes squeeze shut and then everything is just Sam, Sam, Sam at every angle. His hands are at his sides then suddenly they’re all over you, taking two greedy handfuls of your waist under the Stanford sweater. He jams your hips against his and kisses you senseless, towering over you, surrounding you, so that when you pull back to gasp for breath your lungs are flooded with his familiar heady love potion.

Either he’s giving off some Poison Ivy-level pheromones, or your body is so familiar with these steps that it knows what comes after this kiss… because you’re instantly wet.

You realized a long time ago that you and Sam have sex a bit too often for it to be considered “casual,” but even if it was, Sam is not a casual kind of lay. After that first soul-stealing kiss, Sam stares you down like a four-course meal, spins you around, pushes you down chest-first onto the bathroom counter, drops to his knees—

—and shoves his face between your legs like it’s his goddamn job.

In the middle of all your surprised shrieking and squirming, Sam nuzzles his face into your panties and moans deep and bassy in his throat, “Yes.”

Like he’s won something. Like he’s been waiting weeks to do this. Holy fuck, you’ll never get tired of that.

The second you have even an atom of your reason back, you slap a hand over your mouth. Neighbors! Sam has already forgotten what neighbors are, and is holy-mission-from-god-determined to make you noisy. He’s extra hungry for it tonight, too. You squeak out his name, not so much in shock, but more because having those huge hands squeezing where your ass starts to round out tends to produce a reaction, and Sam rumbles like a lawnmower in approval. Holy fuck.

He doesn’t have to ask you to spread your legs. One of the hands appreciating your ass slides between your thighs, cupping you through your underwear, and you have to try not to squeal when the meaty pad of Sam’s thumb swipes across your clothed folds. He presses a big kiss in that exact spot as he drags your panties down your legs, and it’s a weirdly sweet gesture that makes your heart and your belly flutter with shivery heat. Fuck. Fuck, you missed him so much.

The first few times Sam had sprung this move on you, you hadn’t exactly had enough time to fully rev up. But Sam is deadly efficient in and out of the bedroom, so he makes a point to get you extra wet (for him) with his spit, laving his hot, slippery tongue over you in one long swipe. He eats you out with all the obscene, noisy enjoyment of somebody gorging on the juiciest fruit they’ve ever tasted. Even you are scandalized.

It becomes embarrassingly clear that covering your mouth isn’t going to keep Sam from what he wants. The high, desperate moan you try to stifle only makes him work harder. You press an arm flat to the counter and bury your face in it for strength, since you’re weak and whimpering for him already. 

Sam was good in bed when you met him. But, by nature, he is a relentless and avid learner, and it’s been five whole years since he put his mouth on you for the first time. Now, Sam is a certified pussy-eating weapon. He knows your body better than anyone possibly could. You’re over the edge in a minute flat.

Your climax flies through you in one whizzing, sparking rush, then keeps flying, until your body’s squeezing out little squeaky pleas for mercy of its own accord. This is his favorite part. You claw into the countertop and wail for it, pushing at the floor in your socks to gain any sort of leverage. To press closer? To squirm away? You have zero fucking clue, since the thought part of your brain has been blasted into a smoking crater. Sam wraps a big arm around your spasming thigh to pin you open, and holy fucking shit, could that man suck the chrome off a tailpipe. His mouth is a whirlwind of licking and suction just on the right side of oh fuck too much that makes your skin feel like it’s fizzing. You are a thread that he’s just pulling and pulling until you’re so thin you could snap into nothing—

You wait for the moment when Sam pops off you, stands up, and goes for his zipper, but he never does. He remains on the floor, determined to lick you through overstimulation and straight into round two. But that’s a whole minute you could spend with his dick inside you instead, and there’s no fucking way you’re wasting that. Not when he’s here and real and not going to say yes. Sam’s not going anywhere. He’s staying, he’s alive, and the world isn’t going to end tomorrow.

“No no no,” you bite out in one short, rattling breath. “S-Suh—Sam, please please—” An unexpected sob shreds out of you. “Miss you. Need you.”

You’re actually, genuinely crying, and not entirely in the fun sexed-out way. Sam backs up. He’s not even halfway standing when you wrench him up the rest of the way, straight into a desperate, maddening kiss. It’s a brutal cross of teeth and tongue. The need for body heat and skin and him burns through you like genuine bloodlust, so you cram yourself up against him with life-or-death urgency. You get your nails into him until you feel something like shirt fabric and viciously yank it over his head, waiting for the moment when he grabs your wrists or shoves you onto the bed o-or—or starts to blow off steam. Cause’ that’s what this is all about, right?

He drags your mouths apart. Sam pants, “Slow down.”

You stop.

This is. This is new.

There’s no slowing, with this. You both go and you keep going until there’s no more fuel in your tanks, and you crawl out of bed the next day feeling like you’ve beaten the rot out of each other. You’ve never once slowed down during this before, and as your wheels spin to a halt for the first time, reality filters back in around you.

Sam stares at you. His hair is all over the place. A patchy blush speckles up his heaving chest, burning in his ears and in his cheeks. Your slick shines on his lips and the bulb of his nose. He’s just standing there and fucking looking at you, but for whatever reason it feels like the color has seeped back into the world.

“S’okay. Gonna be okay,” Sam hushes, bleeding with sweetness.

He picks up your hands, moving you as if you were a delicate glass he was turning over in each palm. Each of your hands are kissed in the center (oh my fucking god) then wrapped around his neck, and when he has you in his bubble he scoops up your face and kisses you.

It’s a boyfriend kiss. Not a blowing off steam thing, or any other excuse the two of you have used to feel each other. A genuine, I’m your boyfriend and I love you sort of kiss, foreheads pressed together, noses touching, the whole nine yards. It’s the kind of kiss that’s meant to say something. Every inch of what he’s trying to tell you echoes through your body in one ringing smash, like you’re a big cymbal he’s taken a mallet to. 

He slips off your lips and hovers, bracing himself for impact. You suck in a rattling breath.

…Then you press up onto your tiptoes to give him a kiss of your own, just pressing your lips against his, unmoving. It’s undemanding; an answer. You try to find the words to describe the shift that’s occurred between you, and end up feeling stuttery and shivery and fucking elated. Romantic. It’s fucking romantic.

“Sammy,” you sob out.

“Shhh. C’mere,” Sam whispers, his voice throaty and whiskey smooth. “Lemme make it better.”

He tries to walk you straight back out of the bathroom and towards the bed, he really does, but you stop Sam every other step to overwhelm him with obsessed, affectionate kisses. God. His chapstick is all over your fucking mouth (along with your slick) and his hands are everywhere else, feeling instead of grabbing.

“You always do,” you breathe, and that might be the most honest thing you’ve ever said to him in bed.

Sam gets this quiet, pleased smile on his face. No matter how naked and turned-on you are, you’ve always got a snappy reply ready, and you’re about to throw one at him—until you’re fucking obliterated. He smoothes his palms down your arms. Your wrists are scooped up again. With all the tenderness on the planet, Sam slides in close, kisses your throat, and places both of your hands firmly on his belt.

“Take it off,” he rasps.

This. This isn’t the first time he’s given you that order. But knowing, feeling that he’s playing this all out like it’s more than a fling to him… that Sam’s gonna fuck you like you’re someone special to him… sweet jesus, it makes you lightheaded.

“Bossy,” your murmur, grinning.

You’re downright feverish going in to kiss him next. Sam parts your lips with a slow, sinful swipe of his tongue, and there must be a drop of psychic still in him, because suddenly you’re flooded with visions of that filthy mouth between your legs. You can still feel the ghost of him there, keeping you open with his thumbs as the blunt tip of his tongue pushes you somewhere vast and sparkly and wonderful. This is going to be even better.

He sounds like he’s praying when he says, “I just like to watch you.”

Muscle memory serves. You work his clasp open without peeking down and let it hang in his belt loops, mostly because it lets his jeans sling low on his hips in the most enticing way. His belly twitches at even the slightest touch of your hands; always so responsive. Sam drops his forehead on your shoulder to watch you work, and you take the rare opportunity to kiss the top of his head. This is one of your favorite parts. When his button is undone and his zipper’s down, you’re free to smooth your hand under his waistband and take a big handful of him.

You reach in and—squeeze. Sam’s hand snaps up to clutch your arm. His nails dig in, and he rocks forward onto his tiptoes to really dig into your touch. “Yes.”

It’s the kind of soft, needy sound that makes you want to smother him with kisses and hug him until he suffocates. Instead, you cooly purr into his hair, “So sensitive, Sammy.”

A hoarse, sharp laugh snaps out of him, which dissolves into a shuddering groan. You tug at his jeans until they’re somewhere you don’t care about anymore, and forget about everything else entirely at the sight of his cock. All these years of sneaking around with him have conditioned you. Just seeing the pretty speckling of dark hair that leads to it, then the real deal, hanging blood-hot and heavy between his legs, makes your tummy flip and your mouth water. One of a million embarrassing Sam-reactions you’ll have to bring to your grave.

You take his cock in your hand, trying to swallow back the slutty amount of saliva in your mouth. Sam whimpers. A real, desperate sound, with his nails stinging down your arms and everything.

“Know you wanted to slow down,” you struggle between open-mouthed pants, “b-but—can’t—don’t wanna wait—”

Sam physically curls towards you, his hips seizing into your hand and his arms hooking around your shoulders. You’re dragged in for a sloppy kiss so deep you swear it melds your souls together. Sam is just as affected, rumbling like a racecar in approval.

“Then don’t.” He begs.

If this was any other night, Sam would just take. You’d be face down and drilled halfway through the mattress by now, no preamble, all business. He got off and you got off and everyone was happy that way. Sam would want the room dark and you would hide your face in the bedding, the two of you eager to touch and experience but terrified of breaking the illusion. He’s so generous that you suppose he’s got to have at least one place in life where he’s selfish, and you’re happy to be his outlet for it, but.

You’ve never seen him take this way before.

He looks at you and he never really stops, transfixed. You don’t doubt you could walk in a circle around him and Sam’s eyes would follow you the whole way, his gaze oozing with longing and something else—resolution? Faith? You push him onto the bed, and he drops down as if hobbling into a pew for the first time, unsure how to clasp his hands in prayer because it’s only ever been something done in his head before.

You stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

“God,” Sam utters, spellbound. 

You’re blushing so hard that you forget to be sexy as you crawl into his lap, but Sam doesn’t care, still giving you those big slow doe blinks to express his love. It’s so different from the Sam you know (yet also so deeply, deeply him) that you forget what it means to be sexy entirely. He coaxes you closer to plant tender kisses under your chin, and the plan to seductively peel off your sweater for him and flash him your tits blips out of existence.

You wait for the moment when Sam shreds the Stanford sweater off you. Instead, those wonderful fucking hands tease under the hem to squeeze your waist, and Sam croaks out between kisses, “Should wear this all the time. You’re beautiful in anything, but this… you’re… mmn.”

Your heart gives a pathetic flutter. You press mindless kisses against his mouth and rock your bare core down on his lap, because he’s never acted this way before and you don’t know how else to return the favor. “Not nearly as beautiful as you, Sammy.”

The only reaction you get from him is a single huff out of his nose, like it’s something he can’t commit a whole laugh to. Like none of that matters anymore, like it would never matter for Sam, because his body may be beautiful, but it hardly belongs to him anymore. God, you’re shitty at compliments.

You’re fucking wonderful, you suddenly want to tell him. A whole swarm of little truths and sweet nothings roars straight up to the surface of your mind, a whole sea of better things you could say to him, but then one of those perfect hands is slipping between your legs and Sam’s asking you in that perfect, tinted glass voice, “You still on the pill?”

“Yes, doctor,” you tease.

Another flood of sticky heat rushes between your legs, because that question is always a precursor to being pressed into and filled and stuffed end-to-end by Sam’s dick. The one barrier that doesn’t—didn’t exist between you.

“Good,” Sam sighs, relieved, grateful. He never turned down going raw in the past, but he’s downright starved for it right now. Closer closer closer, his whole body begs.

You’re tugged in by a big hand hooked around your back, and you fall right into Sam’s summer-warm, sweat-sticky chest, giggling. He loops both arms around your middle and teddy-bear squeezes even more laughter out of you. The only way to hold yourself up is by planting two hands on his shoulders… which turns into his cupping his neck… then caressing his face, because it’s impossible to be witness to that quiet boyish grin and not shower him in affection. There’s all these little freckles on him that you can only see up close. He feels good, mystical good, prophetic-chosen-one type good.

This is the moment. You can feel the blood in your body pounding between your legs, and Sam’s cock bumps not-so-innocently against your core as you kiss one another. Every shift of his hands sends your muscles clenching tight, bracing for impact, but Sam doesn’t push into you just yet.

Your confusion must be clear on your face, because he says, “Just let me feel you for a second.”

And, obviously, you’re not an idiot, so you let Sam feel you for as long as he pleases. For the next ten uninterrupted minutes, you makeout like lovesick teenagers, whimpering and sighing and swallowing every sound the other makes. You’d always pegged him as a romantic. But seeing it, feeling it, adds a whole new dimension to him you hadn’t realized you’d been craving.

By the time the pool of need in your gut has opened up into a blackhole, Sam has caressed or squeezed or kissed every part of you ten times over. He continues to be weird and obsessed with you. (So still in character, then). Sam even pinches the ends of your ears and smooths his thumbs over the bumps of your ankles, being sexy about it but also a little terrifying. He touches you like he’s never gonna see you again.

Around the time that Sam starts suckling marks into your neck and trying to tickle you under your arms, you giggle out, “O-Okay—okay! Enough—!”

“Enough what?” Sam cocks his head. His hand makes another dive for your belly, making you shriek and squirm with more giggles. You try to wriggle away to protect your tickling sides, but Sam’s too strong and you’re a little in love with him, so it’s easy for him to pull you flush against him and blow tingly-warm breaths beside your ear. He purrs, “You need it that badly?”

“Fucking yes! So quit torturing me,” you pant, and you’re pretty sure this grin is going to get stuck on your face.

Sam’s smile gets even bigger. “Only if you say please.”

Your attitude slips from your grip like water. Next time, you’ll play push and pull with him, but right now there needs to be a lot more pushing and pulling in a different context.

The words are out of your mouth in an instant. “Please, Sam.”

As reluctant as he is to stop teasing you, Sam’s a little in love, too. He leans back enough to fist his cock in one hand, and you can’t help how your breath hitches when Sam’s touch follows the curve of your ass to where you’re soaked and sensitive for him. Those thick, maddening fingers spread you open. The velvety tip of his cock finds your hole right away, and your legs nearly give out when Sam starts to swipe himself up and down your folds one dizzying stroke at a time. Back…. and forth. Up… and down. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Okay, fine…” He concedes, his eyes glittering with joy. “You’re just so cute when you act all tough.”

Maybe not all of your attitude is gone. You bark out a laugh, telling him, “I hate you.”

Sam presses down for the last time, then presses in. You don’t mean to look into his eyes when he fills you up, and that’s probably what does you in. Sam’s rosy face flutters and twists with pleasure, but he never stops looking at you, not even once, terrified to miss even a small moment. The long hitching moan that slips out of you makes his whole face darken with desire. You’re pulled onto him deeper and deeper and deeper until—click. Cue the angel choir.

Your fingers dig desperately into his hair. Sam curls into you in one slow pulling movement, a thread pulled taut, until his face is stuffed in your neck and his hands are mindlessly scrabbling down your back.

“God, I love you,” he moans.

Soon your pussy feels achy and hair-trigger-sensitive and beyond full, which could mean that you’re all the way on him. It’s impossible to tell, since the first full minute of having Sam’s dick inside you sends you straight to the moon every time, where everything falls in peaceful slow-motion and the whole world hums with cosmic, sparkling pressure. You shove your face into him and nuzzle in a daze, little ripples of electricity sparking up your spine.

…Wait.

“What?” You register, slow.

Sam is still clutching you for dear life, even if the moment’s slowed and you’re both comfortable. He hugs you full-bodied, nose in your neck, tilted forward, the kind of hug where he sways you side to side with joy. Sam sucks in a harsh breath. Can’t hold back anymore.

“I love you,” he gushes. The words burn out of him, declarative, overjoyed.

There’s so much you want to say to that. But then Sam digs his fingers into your ass and pulls you off his lap, only to gloriously sink you down the rest of the way, and. Fuck fuck fuck. His cock drags thick and hot against the pliant walls of your pussy. You couldn’t be any more full if you tried, clamping down on him with long, silky ripples of pressure that outline the shape of him inside you in obscene detail. It’s the kind of mind-blowing that’s beyond comprehension, beyond feeble human understanding. Your eyes squeeze shut and you whimper into his hair.

“God, I love you,” he chants again through grit teeth. “So much. So fucking much.”

You find his face with your hands and kiss him quiet, tasting the promise in his mouth. When you part and the two of you really start to move, you kiss him again, and again, whispering where only he can hear, “I-I love you too.”

It should scare you how easily the confession slips out. You should be terrified, because even if you live to see next week, or next month, or next year, even if Sam isn’t saying yes to Lucifer, those words are a death sentence. And yet.

“I-I miss you,” you choke out, “I need you.”

“Me too. So much,” Sam soothes, his voice tight and sharp with restraint. You know his instinct is to jackhammer up into you and never stop, but he puts in effort to resist, letting you both marinate in the wonderful, glistening, twitchy feeling of each other. His hands are rubbing your back and he is so fucking warm, turning the rain outside to steam.

He doesn’t bounce you on his dick. It’s more of a slow, cresting drag, waves stroking a beach. You don’t think you could handle much more than that, anyway—sometimes these positions make him feel big enough to pop you like a balloon. What you can’t fit on your own, your weight pushes you down onto anyway, turning your whole body into a big expanding bubble of pressure ready to burst at any moment. You clutch at his shoulders and just throb around him for a second.

“Nuh-uh,” Sam leans away, not letting you shove your face in him like you want. Instead, a big hand cups one side of your neck and keeps you in front of him. “Wanna see your face. Look at me. Look at me,” he insists, genuinely pleading.

When your eyes find his, that’s when he decides to snap up into you for real. You don’t even get a full look at him. The arm slung around your waist drags you up off your wobbling knees, then slams you down into a beautiful, endless white space popping with color.

“Sammy!” You choke.

That’s the magic word. You’re instantly thrust up into four more lightning-fast times, one-two-three-four, and hitch out four squeaky gasps to match. Sam’s eyes bore into yours with every beat, blazing with liquid love. For a second you wonder if you’ve fallen back into your rough routine again. But then words and thoughts melt out of your brain altogether, because Sam draws you into the tenderest, sweetest kiss human beings are capable of, fucking into you deep and smooth with that deeper, smoother voice, “Keep saying that.”

Sammy Sammy Sammy, you rattle out under your breath. Sam hisses out your name the exact same way.

You do your best to help him out a little, bobbing up and down in his lap, but’s a drop of water in the ocean for him. All Sam cares about is seeing your reaction. He soaks up everything you do like a sponge, moaning when you moan, gritting his teeth when you bite your lip, grinding up as you stir down. The weight of his eyes on you is so heavy that your skin stings in its wake. Again, it’s Sam’s brand of freak-sweetness that makes you get stupid notions in your head about wedding rings and anniversary presents. But that’s—

…something he knows about. Something he just said to you five minutes ago. Above the haze of bouncing, rhythmic pleasure, you’re flooded with relief. You can tell him! Holy fuck, you can tell him!

“I love you,” you gasp out again, and just saying it feels like it could save the world. “O-oh, god, Sam—”

The breath you have left is stolen from you by another fierce kiss from him, so passionate it lets you taste the bassy, happy hum that rumbles in Sam’s throat. You’re devoured by feverish kisses for a full minute, then Sam pops off you to sob, “So much—so fucking much, yes.”

He slips a hand between the two of you to thumb your clit, stirring in and never once stopping. Every so often he’ll brush up against where you’re hot and filled to the hilt with him, your bodies sliding together with slick, filthy noises that are so—so fucking much that your thighs cramp up, protesting the constant pistoning. But the pleasure is easily worth the burn. Your core booms with long echoes of pleasure that shudder through the trembling spiderwebs that make up your nerves. You make a move to lean back on your hands and switch up the angle, (since you’re a damn good cowgirl, thank you very much), but Sam refuses to stop kissing you. He physically pulls you back in with a hand fished around your neck and kisses you breathless, determined to pound you to your climax one thorough snap of his hips at a time.

“So beautiful,” Sam gushes. His voice is hoarse and thready, like he’s moments away from bursting into tears of pure desire.

You smooth your hands down his flushed cheeks, telling him between huffy moans, “It’s okay, s’ okay, Sammy… so pretty… love you so much…”

You feel him pull the Stanford sweater up over your ass and out of his way, exposing more, more, more of your bare skin for him to touch. Sam palms the slope of your back and your belly in a daze, but that’s still not enough—he’ll never be satisfied with how little of you he’s had. He wants more. He wants forever. You embrace each other to the fullest, cheeks smushed together, chests flush, his parted lips claiming your throat, making you his—but. Sam’s breath ratchets up. Not enough not enough not enough—

In one ragged motion, Sam rolls you both over, tossing you back-first onto the bedding and smothering you with his weight.

A squeal of delight jumps out of you. “Hey!”

If Sam wasn’t all over you before, then he literally is now, dropping onto his elbows so he can cup your face in both hands and surround you completely. “Sorry,” he croaks, “need you. Need to fill you up.”

You whisper against his lips, “Then fill me up already.”

His thumbs press into your cheeks a little. Sam’s breath fans across your face, throttled by the lump in his throat.

“Tell me you love me again.”

Um. You don’t exactly have the sexy heat of the moment to hide behind this time, but you still want to say it for him. His eyes swim with something unreadable. Desire and love, enough love to put a lump in your throat too, but a third thing also. It worries you.

You bring your hands up to stroke his wrists, and give a bit too much of your soul to him when you promise, “...I love you, Sam.”

The words hit him like a bullet. Sam shudders from head to toe, unable to reign himself in any longer, and plants a long, surging kiss on your mouth that makes your belly flash with nuclear levels of lust. He squirms his hands underneath your body so he can cradle you against him—genuinely cradling, one palm cupping the back of your neck—and then burrows into you face-first, groaning your name as his cock nestles itself as deep as it can go.

With all of his weight on top of you, you couldn’t move if you wanted to. You caress and kiss and dig your nails into him, and somewhere along the way you’re given a dose of whatever has made him fucking insane for you right now. It fogs your head and turns your reason to ash, so when Sam returns to ruining you for any other man, you whimper, “Please don’t leave me.”

“Oh, baby,” Sam hiccups out, and something strange hangs in his voice.

You would ask him what’s wrong, but the shuddering, flimsy scraps left of your brain are busy being blasted all over by white-hot pleasure. Everything scorches. Sam’s bare skin and his breath and his hands feel fucking molten, melting you down like hot glass. You’re pinned down in every possible way, and it pushes the sinking, gorgeous pressure inside you all over your body, like it’s not just Sam’s cock filling you up, but him, just him, the source of all good in the world. Holy fucking fuck. His hips glide back and then thud back into you again and again and again. You get why it’s called making love, now. You can taste your love for him in the back of your throat, feel it sitting in a sticky film on your skin. It hangs like humidity in the air of your apartment. And jesus christ, it bleeds from Sam, glowing off him like fucking radiation.

When you’re shamelessly wailing gut-deep in ecstasy, Sam peels himself off you. He forces himself to sit up. His chest putters up and down with desperate little breaths, and a gloriously big hand scoops under your thigh and welds it against your chest. Whatever he sees from this new angle—probably your wet, abused pussy stretched tight around the full base of his cock—makes Sam gape, utterly transfixed. You watch as his mouth falls open, and then those dark, soul-swallowing eyes crawl up your body to meet yours.

“Keep lookin’ at me,” Sam rasps.

Even if he doesn’t sway your opinion with a few dizzying, stomach-deep drags of his cock, (which he does), you’re convinced. You lock eyes with him—and then suddenly feel stupid for not watching him the whole time. A long curl of hair hangs in his eyes and sways as he fucks into you. His expression flutters with these sinful little giveaways, exposing just how starved he is for you, how in love. Maybe if you’d looked back sometime in the past five years, that’s what you would’ve seen: how much this has always meant to him. He searches your face for the same pleasure, obsessed with his effect on you. 

“Fuck,” you shudder out. “C-could cum just watchin’ you, Sammy.”

“That’s right,” he hisses, and you’ve never heard him sound so damn happy. “Cum for me. Please. Look so pretty when you do.”

Usually, when he makes you cum, it’s the roughest part of the whole act. He’d get both your wrists pretzeled behind your back and pinned viciously in one of his hands, and that’s when you’d know the big finish was coming. His pace would go from bouncing to bruising. But this Sam, your Sam, would stop time if he could, so he slows down even further, winding you closer and closer to the top of the mountain with little figure-eights of his hips. He gazes down at you the same way you’re sure you must gaze up at him. Beautiful, he murmurs under his breath.

You utter another, tight, almost-sob of, “love you so much, Sammy,” and his dick twitches wildly shoved in you to the hilt.

“Ohh—shit,” he chokes out, and his other hand snaps desperately towards yours on the bed. They find each other easily, and you squeeze his hand with everything you’ve got, infusing in him all the love he’s infused in you.

The slow, mounting tsunami of perfection you’ve been moving towards finally overcomes you, and in one long gorgeous slippery rush you cum for Sam. And because your life is a movie—he cums for you too. He rocks faster and falls forward to kiss you, your faces pressed together, your mouths slotting against each other, your pussy squeezing down on him in golden rippling strokes. Sam hisses your name out between his teeth as he cums. You’re lanced straight through by a whole fucking universe of fluttering, flickering pleasure. To be honest, you’re a little pissed about it—because it’s the best fucking orgasm you’ve had in your entire life, and it’s all because Sam raggedly chants those words to you again and again, laying sloppy, obsessive, head-over-heel kisses all over your face. Love you love you so much baby you feel so good squeezin’ down on me.

You could’ve had this ages ago. How much more time could you have had with him, if you had just stopped being stupid?

Sam’s crazed, sobbing, hitching I love yous somehow become, in true Sam fashion, a low spiral of thank yous. He lays there and clutches you until there’s a Sam-shaped imprint in your body. You’re pretty sure he would stay inside you all night if he could, but you coax him into some cuddling instead, since you both are in desperate need. It’s. It’s new, but it feels cleansing in the holy way.

What feels like hours later, your brain dimly connects to the rest of your body. You’re halfway through detangling Sam’s hair with your fingers as he hides face-first in your chest, pretending he’s not embarrassed that he cried. At least, that’s what you assume. The Winchester mind is a mysterious one, and as much as you would hope to know what Sam’s thinking, the slow hand drawing circles on your hip tells you nothing. Is he shy that he got emotional? That seems silly, since you both sobbed into each other earlier. Is he embarrassed about everything he confessed? Does he regret it?

Just when your train of thought really starts to take the curves of your spiral hard, Sam tiredly croaks into your neck, “I meant what I said, y’know.”

He draws in a lungful of your perfume through his nose, soaking up as much of you as he can possibly get. His hands smooth over your body, innocent and loving, caressing you, memorizing you, begging silently for forgiveness. 

Sam is a dead-silent crier. But you hear him sniffle as he gushes, “God, I love you.”

Maybe if you hadn’t been so tired, you would’ve picked up on it. Or maybe you’d heard it in his voice, seen it, something, and ignored it, hoping it was something else. Everything he felt, he put into a teeny, unmarked box that he’d bury god knows where, far from where anybody could be hurt by it. Sam didn’t—he wouldn’t say that to you. Not unless it was the last time he ever could. He would feel it, but it’d go right into that box where it couldn’t hurt you. You should’ve known.

Lie to me, you’d begged him. 

…And Sam had.

_

The dull realization that you are awake sets in around noon. Noon as in after-noon, well past when you’re normally up and at em’. When you wonder why the hell you slept in so late, you remember last night’s rain, thrashing against the windows all night, and Sam, his face haloed by lamplight and bleeding with quiet resolution.

Sam. Alive, and not going to say yes.

He’d been the one to keep you up all night. With his mouth and his hands, yes, but then afterward he’d been hellbent on talking. Just… talking. You’d been sluggish and cozy and sated after having sex, but no matter how close you came to falling asleep, Sam wouldn’t let it happen. For two straight hours he asked you every question he could come up with to keep you up with him.

Do you remember when we met? Cause’ I do. Do you remember what I said to you? Do you remember what you thought about me? I remember thinking how similar we were, y’know, how much we’d get along. You were so pretty… my whole face went red every time you looked at me. Do you remember…?

Being cuddled, kissed, and protected by the man you love really tempts a girl to doze off, too, so this was not an easy battle. But Sam persisted. He studied your face intently, uttering I love yous even when sleep started to pull you under. Hearing any Winchester drop those words on you still blew your fucking mind, to be honest. Sam especially. But it was romantic as it was worrying, so you’d shut him up with a kiss goodnight and echoed it back to him. Love you, Sammy. It was probably just an anxiety thing, you assumed—Sam, for some fucking reason, was a pretty insecure guy, so you imagined that was his way of making sure you wanted all of this. He seemed… scared. He wasn’t used to being wanted.

The apocalypse was still on. Maybe the world would end tomorrow, or maybe you’d get lucky and live a whole lifetime with Sam. Regardless, he’s never saying yes to Lucifer, and that alone means that there’s still hope for the future. You’re going to spend every second of it making Sam feel wanted.

Sitting up in bed, you scrubbed at your sleepy face with the heel of your hand and stared around the room. Sam was physically incapable of staying asleep after five in the morning, so the familiar evidence of his military-efficient morning routine was all over the place. You smiled to yourself. He’d picked up after the two of you, and had tucked another blanket over you in your sleep. Stupid chivalrous dumbass.

To think, you’d been terrified you’d never see him again just last night.

You push out of bed, only to almost buckle onto the carpet rag-doll style. Even being torturously gentle, that man manages to make you sore. With a very, very happy groan, you hop (and wince) into some clean underwear, then traipse out into your kitchen to show that dork who’s boss.

“Dammit, Samuel, you’re not my maid—” you start to say, but of course, this is Sam, who wouldn’t miss a morning run for anything. Right. That explains your empty kitchen.

…But it’s afternoon. Sam would be back by now. Your gut prickles with a bad feeling, and you superstitiously sweep your apartment, looking for him. His clothes from last night are still sitting in your hamper, his shirt folded neatly in your dresser and his watch on your nightstand. A spike of nausea rolls through you seeing that his jacket is gone—and his boots. But his duffle—it’s. It’s still on your kitchen table. It looks a little smaller than usual, but his books and his laptop are still inside. He probably just ran out to run some silly errand for you, determined to make up for worrying you so much. Yeah.

You force your hunter’s paranoia down to a simmer, padding over to your breakfast table. There’s a big ol’ note smack dab in the center of it, perched on his half-open duffle bag, and you start to play with one of the bracelets Sam left behind as you pick it up.

You cross your fingers, smiling ear-to-ear. “C’mon. All bets on breakfast. Please be getting me breakfast, please be getting me breakfast—”

…That’s not what the note says.

You read it.

Then you read it again, and the hammer falls, crushing the breath out of you and doubling you over the kitchen table. You read the note for the third time, needing to be sure, and the thin sliver of hope you had—maybe you’d just read it wrong, m-maybe he was fine—turns to ash. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.

You’re fighting back a surge of ugly, choking tears in an instant. He’s… Sam… he…

Your whole apartment lingers with the heat and goodness of him, like he’d been here just minutes ago. Just seconds. Even your clothes still smell like Sam. Just inhaling it tears chunks out of your reason, like—like you’d just missed him. Clawing around for something to do, you pace in a daze between your bedroom and the front door, desperate to recreate the moment you realized he was gone. You’re still just in the Stanford sweater and your underwear, but you don’t give a single shit and go careening out into the hall, stalking up and down your floor for him—because, b-because Sam wouldn’t, he wouldn’t do that to you—he would tell you first, he would never leave you in the dark like this—

…But you know Sam. And if it meant fixing his mistakes, saving you, saving everyone… Then he’d say yes in a heartbeat.

“These belong to you. You deserve a world to live in. I’m sorry - Sam.”

- tags: @samssluttybangs @cookiemumster1@lacilou@cevans-winchester @leigh70@ seraphimluxe @emily-roberts @emme-looou @aloneatpeace @williamstop @ornella0910 @chaoticshepardplaid @dakota-dream @lcvecstiel @goghkiss @spnexploration @stoneyggirl2 @urm0mmmbbg @mulattomoon @poeticsorcery @deansapplepie @rennydenny @babydollfoster @badlandsbrunette @hallecarey1

#uncouthspn #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #user uncouth #sam winchester x reader

[ambrozjas]

the gang on valentine’s day ꨄ︎

the outsiders x reader

✧˖*°࿐ notes ᰔᩚ

eeee !! i love valentine’s day!! this took me all day and was written w/ much love (and rewritten because i accidentally posted it on my alt), so i hope you guys enjoy it 💕

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

lmk if i missed anything !! i think it’s pretty okay so far

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ DARRY is such a softie on valentines omg

❥ i cant stop imagining you waking up to darry making you breakfast that he got up extra early for you just to make so you two could eat alone

❥ because darry’s so busy with his job, you’ll probably have to wait til after valentine’s day for more gifts?

❥ don’t get me wrong, he’ll make you breakfast, wake you up with soft kisses to your head and a soft “g’morning baby” but that’s all you’ll really get on valentine’s day

❥ he might not be all lovey dovey in front of the boys, but when you both slip into the kitchen he’ll mutter small ‘i love you’s while hugging you from behind

❥ if somebody walks in, he WILL get embarrassed and bark at them to get out while a blush dusts his cheeks

❥ you guys’ll probably head out for a cruise in his car or go to the drive-in while ponyboy and soda stay with the others

“hey.” a distant voice called out for you, a few whispers of your name and a couple of ‘hey’s before you finally broke through that thick barrier of sleep.

you peeked one eye open at darry, watching a soft smile appear on his face at your state.

“you awake?” he asked, turning his head so that he could level his face with yours. you lay on your side as you tilted your head up to meet darry’s eyes.

you made a small ‘mhm’ sound as you blinked the remaining sleep out of your eyes and took ahold of darry’s hand, calloused and rough. the warmth of it made you shiver though.

the warmth didn’t last long though, as darry’s face split into a grin and got up, jogging out of the bedroom. you heard a few clanks of the ceramic plates you had stacked in your guys’ kitchen, before you heard your boyfriend’s retreating footsteps.

your lips curled into a soft smile as you saw him walk back into the room with a small plate, the aroma of bacon and pancakes practically dancing across the room and making its way towards you. you propped yourself on one elbow as darry placed the small white plate on the nightstand next to you and once he had leaned down, you had pulled him by the collar to meet his lips in a chaste kiss.

“i’ll see you when i get off work, darlin’. maybe we can do somethin’ tomorrow.” he mumbled against your lips. you felt his lips curve upwards again as he placed another kiss against yours, smiling when you two shared another.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ SODAPOP, this cheesy mofo

❥ meets you once you get off school or work, crumpled flowers in his hand that he may or may not have stolen from his neighbor’s garden, with a boyish grin on his face like he’s soo pleased with himself

❥ will definitely take you out after he’s done with work

❥ maybe’d he’d do smth the day before??? idk

❥ you guys’d probably go watch a drag race or the drive-in, maybe go to the dingo afterwards

❥ would tease and make steve feel single, even if he had a valentine

❥ writes you cheesy lil love notes in chicken scratch and sticks them on your stuff

soda beamed as he saw your car pull up to the dx and watched you get out of the car, throwing his rag on the counter and jogging to open the door.

“hey steve! you can lock up, right buddy?” he asked, tilting his head up to project his voice further.

when steve had come out of the back room, he rolled his eyes at the sight of you and soda. you had your arm linked around his, head leaning on his chest as you both looked at steve with pleading eyes.

“yeah, whatever.” steve grumbled, cleaning his oily hands with the rag that sodapop threw.

“thanks!” soda said, voice fading as he was already heading out the door with you by his side.

“that lovesick fool’s lucky ‘m such a good friend.” steve growled under his breath, annoyed as he watched you give soda a few kisses before hopping into the car outside.

“where we goin’, soda?” you asked, a wide grin still evident on your face as you looked at him.

“where d’ya wanna go?” he asked, a charming smile glued on his lips as he looked at you. gosh, you were pretty.

you shrugged. “wherever the night takes us.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ PONYBOY is so CUTEEE !!

❥ whatever you do, dont imagine the rosy blush that falls on his cheeks when you catch him gazing at you

❥ and ESPECIALLY dont imagine you and pony meeting up after ponys been slipping cute awkward love letters into your locke so you see him with a sheepish smile when you give him an all knowing look

❥ AND DEFINITELY dont imagine ponyboy curtis sitting with you in class, thighs touching and ankles almost locking with each other because you guys are sitting do close, giggling and bright smiles

❥ okay i’ll stop now

❥ BUT JUST??? DO YOU SEE THE VISION??

❥ he’s the type who writes these poetic ass letters with his rushed half-cursive half-print handwriting and then gets all bashful when you bring it up

you heard something fall on your desk. you looked up from your test paper, pencil held between your teeth as your eyes fell on the small yellow folded sticky note.

you looked at the teacher who was at her desk, checking her nails and unbothered, and grabbed the note, unfolded it to unveil a myriad of hearts surrounding a message in neat handwriting.

“i believe in you.” the words read, you smiled to yourself and threw a small glance at ponyboy behind you, who was averting your eyes shyly.

you mouthed a silent, ‘thanks pony’ and turned back to your paper, tapping the pencil on the desk softly as you thought up another answer, circling a letter.

you bit your lip as your eyes crinkled and a smile took over your face, thinking back to ponyboy’s note.

yeah, you thought, thanks pony.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ oh, JOHNNY

❥ he is so WHIPPED

❥ hes just a lil dude, shuffling his feet awkwardly as he holds out some orchids which he also probably stole from his neighbors

❥ n when you give him a kiss on the cheek it’s literally like he short circuits 😭😭

❥ probably has some chocolates that dallas stole him at the store

❥ hes so cute omg 😭

you looked out of the diner window, swiping a fry into the ketchup on your plate and bringing to your mouth in the process.

the sun blinded you a bit as you looked off into the horizon, into the multitude of cars in the parking lot and houses across the way. but to johnny, you looked absolutely ethereal.

the way the sun gave your face a golden hue made you look like a deity come into earth, he had half a mind to start worshipping you right now in the middle of the diner booth.

“y’wanna get outta here?” you asked, turning your head to face johnny. “we could go to th’a lot ‘n watch the sunset?”

blinking, johnny had snapped out of it. he stammered as his mind tried its hardest to concoct a response.

but seeing you smile as you saw him in this state, he sighed and started over.

“yeah,” johnny said, “let’s go.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ DALLAS is very stubborn, but is also very passionate when he loves somebody

❥ his way of love is like beating somebody’s ass for talking about you and letting you clean his wounds afterwards

❥ he rarely says he loves you, but thinks it’s easier to show it with his actions than his words

❥ probably shows up at your doorstep, no warning, and spontaneously takes you out for a date

❥ it dont matter if you have homework, work, angry parents

❥ this man WILL take you out

“thought y’said you didn’t care about valentine’s.”

“i don’t.” dally said, breath evident as he sighs when he looks upon you. his hands stuffed in his pockets as he shuffled his feet.

“look c’mon, just come with me, will ya?” he asks, waving his hand around as he talked.

the corner of your lips turned upwards as you chuckled at dallas’ state. here he was, standing in front of your door on a cold night in tulsa, when just hours before he was brushing you off and saying valentine’s day was cheesy. if anybody had seen him now, they’d never believe you.

“sure, dallas. let’s go.” you took his hand and stepped out, clutching your sweater as your face hit the cold breeze. you never understood how dallas could wear leather jackets in this weather. maybe he was just too cool for everything, maybe that’s how he blended in with the weather.

he let go of your hand, which made you pout a bit, before he instead wrapped his arm around your shoulders and had a grip on the collar of your sweater.

“you’ll stretch it out, dal.”

“oh, you’ll live.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ STEVE is so cute 😭😭

❥ he tries his hardest guys i swear

❥ he’s a little dumb when it comes to this stuff

❥ steve probably steals one of pony’s valentines grams or whatever, scribbles his name out, and gives it to you

❥ you guys might go see soda or go to a drag race or maybe a car show

❥ maybe he’ll even teach you bout some car stuff, whether you understand it or not 😭

“baby, look! y’see that firebird right ov’there?” he asked, pointing and ushering your body to turn towards the car. steve was practically a kid in a toy store when it came to cars. he knew them like the back of his hand.

“mhm, it’s nice, stevie.” you said, humoring your boyfriend. your feet were practically aching at this point by how long you guys were walking for.

“‘n you see that one over there, too?” glory, how much i’d kill for a car like’at.” you loved steve, but sometimes it frustrated you how oblivious he was to certain things.

as he ranted about, you leaned your head on his shoulder, clutching his arm. you tried to listen to him, really, you tried. but all you could focus on was your throbbing feet, your heels burning with every step you took as you were sure you had blisters already.

how was steve able to be walking for this long?

you tugged on the bottom of his denim vest a little bit, making him shut up and turn his head towards you. “huh?” he asked.

“my feet are gettin’ tired, hun.” you whined with pleading eyes. he stopped for a little bit, contemplating on what to do, before letting go of you. you gave him a puzzled look before he crouched down in front of you, looking over his shoulder. “hop on.” was all steve said.

you laughed a bit, not thinking he was serious.

“you said your feet was hurtin’, didn’t ya?” he asked.

“fine, fine.” you gave him one last chuckle before hopping onto his back and wrapping your arms around his neck, burrowing your head into the crook of his neck.

steve was wrapped around your finger, and you both knew that, as you pressed a soft kiss onto his cheek as a thanks.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

❥ dunno why but all i can imagine for TWO-BIT is a drive-in date

❥ you two, sharing a coke, as you both watch a movie as you’re sat in his car

❥ two’s one of those cheesy mofos who while watching the sunset or a nice movie, he’d say it’s beautiful while looking at you

❥ he’s literally my babygirl what are you on about

❥ my underrated king 🙏🙏

“hey!” he shouted for you as he found you, scanning the entire drive-in for him.

he held out a small deformed heart shaped chocolate box, probably from being accidentally sat on, with a cheesy grin on his face.

“awh, you didn’t have to.” you beamed, gently handling the box as he handed it to you.

“swiped it just for ya.” two-bit said, rocking on the balls of his feet as he awaited a kiss, pursing his lips in the process.

you giggled and placed a quick kiss on his dramatic lips, watching how he chased yours after you pulled away.

“settle down, lover boy. let’s actually watch the movie first.” you said, causing your boyfriend to frown exaggeratedly.

“c’mon baby, let’s go get a coke.” you pulled him by the collar of his leather jacket, material rough under your fingertips as you dragged him along.

and boy, did you never hear the end of it. the whole time you were in line, all you heard from two was, “please darlin’?”, “one more?”, “just on the cheek?”. a string of pleas fell from his lips so many times you had lost count.

once you two had gotten your coke and snacks for the movie, you returned to two’s car as he followed you around, dragging his feet like a sad puppy dog.

“i’ll tell you what, you sit through,” you looked up in thought as you tried to find a good estimate, “twenty minutes, and then maybe you’ll get kisses.”

“twenty minutes? that’s like.. a whole year from now!” two-bit exclaimed.

after seeing your face though, he shut up. he really wanted those kisses, even if that meant sitting through a movie while he was all antsy. so all he did, was cross his arms and pout.

it wasn’t long before he got his wish, though.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ yo so who wanna be my valentine?? 💘

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

#the outsiders x reader #the outsiders #fanfiction #x reader #darry curtis x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #johnny case x reader #dallas winston x reader #steve randle x reader #two-bit mathews x reader #valentines day #ambrozjas #kiss kiss

[hearts4kaulitz]

“ REPTILLIA “

sfw modern bill hcs.

he most DEFINITELY does yoga and if you ask you two and try and do those poses together 😭

bill ended up falling ontop of you so you made that “eugh” sound and you and him ended up laughing ur ASSES off cause of it.

shopping w him is like taking a toddler to disney. this mf picks up EVERY SINGLE ITEM.

he will literally jump if he sees something you like.

“ name! name! look, its that brand you like!”

he takes forever in dressing rooms. he would send you and the rest of the band a picture of him doing a duck face in the outfit.

he definitely captions it “you like? 😘”

also he RAIDS the skincare aisle. he clears them shelves.

he has a hard time picking out the products he wants so he makes you do it for him.

“this one gives my skin a glow but THIS one actually protects it but makes it really oily…” (hes so real 4 that)

i feel like if you celebrated christmas yall would watch home alone RELIGIOUSLY but if you followed a different tradition he’d love to watch you or even participate!

also he has alot of hair products. i just know it

sometimes after hard days he’ll ask you to message his like hair cause it helps with his stress

also speaking of stress and stuff he’s definitely someone you could come to about your problems.

hes been through ALOT so he really would understand and if he didnt he would see where you come from. hes a great listener.

aside from that he loves when you play with his jewelry and stuff.

absolutely ADORES when you tug on his necklaces or chokers to get his attention. (it turns him on)

hi guys… im in a hotel rn and i felt like writing so heres a lil sum sum 🥰 PLSPSLSPLS send requests cause im literally dying here .

#x reader #kaulitz twins #ynstories #bill kaulitz #ao3 #bill x reader #tokio hotel #hearts4kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tom kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer x reader #bill kaulitz modern #2023 bill kaulitz #georg listing x reader #tom kaulitz 2023 #tom kaulits modern hcs #tom kaulitz modern #headcanon

[extrajigs]

Wanted to expand on some domesticated animals of Mirum. These are basically cat-dog birds, ranging in size from cat to medium sized dog. Still need a name for group over all, suggestions appreciated! In depth info below the cut! 

1. The OG This is the wild ancestral form, basically the wolf to the dog. They are from the grass/shrub lands of Mirum and spend most of the year scrounging around for food until the end of the wet season. Once the floods are over they pop out babies like nobodies business while feeding on the debris left by the flooding. By the time fire season rolls around their numbers are pretty scarce. They travel in little groups with multiple hens and one big buff man! But this man does not necessarily need to be a male, or a bird even! They were the first species domesticated by the chimera and the only one to leave Mirum with them.  The ‘Natural’ Breeds These are just the morphs bred into these fellas without any magical manipulation involved, so they still look relatively close to their wild ancestors.  2. The Cupid  These are purely pets, originally kept just for eggs they lost that purpose as more efficient birds came around for that. Now they just make docile lil lapbirds. Though inattentive owners will find old eggs hidden throughout the house if they’re not careful. Most of the time though they tend to stay by their owners ankles.  3. The Ruff Fluffy lil guys who make for great pest control, they’re a very sporty breed despite everything and need a lot of energy to stop them from destroying their surroundings out of boredom. Will do well with another ruff or dog of similar size, though they can be a bit of a bully in the care of a lax owner. 4. The Gallop Literally just made for running, can keep up with a chimera at full sprint and at a normal long distance run. For those with a more active lifestyle. Though they will just as happily laze around all day, just happy to be included honestly. These are also the best swimmers of the natural breeds with their extra oily coat.  5. The Dome This is a purely ornamental bird, stocky and colorful they are the most relaxed of all the birds. Most prefer chimeric company to that of other birds and have a habit of separation anxiety when not with their owner. In line with that, these are the most accepting of chimeric ‘talk’ with most quickly getting accustomed to projected commands. Though please don’t overwhelm your bird, casting the full range of sentient experience unto lesser beings CAN and WILL cause them existential distress! Not to mention your personality may displace your pet’s. 6. The Fluff  The original pillow stuffing. These guys feathers are softer than any other. Keeping a mostly downy ‘undercoat’ for their whole life. That being said these guys can get absolutely RANCID if not kept clean and tidy. Only for the most advanced and attentive of owners unless you want an unholy dingleberry beast skulking around. They also are VERY bitey.  7. Crested These are historically for eating, but have grown to be a very pish posh fancy breed. Most are pure white, thanks to inbreeding, and albeit are not the sharpest tools in the shed. But if you are looking for a bird who may just ignore your commands but love you eternal, this is your bird! 

That’s them so far, will make the magical monstrosities later. Also wanted to try a different lineart style. Thin is nice but I miss my chunky brush. Glad to have tried it though! 

#mirum #chimera #chimera adjacent really #fantasy #birds #need name aaaah i cant think of a good one for these still tho HM #speculative biology #spec bio #Speculative Evolution #spec evo #art #no true north

[short-black-diamond]

Enemies/Hater #3 for Kunigami?

I know that man has a monster sized dick

AYO THIS COMBINATION IS DANGEROUS, you are playing with fire here, anon!!!

warnings/summary: smut obviously, Our hero looses his v-card~!, bullying, and fluff, also a lil confession scene, and you and Kunigami are huge dorks, also I'm putting one of my kinks in there (find out what it is!), and Oliver slander (I love him but I don't like his cheater-nature, so imma use it as a plot device)

again, this will be as vanilla as possible. or not.

word count: 5.1 k words oh man...✌💀😭

taglist: @kyuzra, @ann-teige, @loser-vxbez

---

Tea-kettle.

your father always called people who took too long in the traffic with their cars to drive around tea-kettles. When people acted like dumb children, when people got on his nerves...tea-kettle.

Simple, but sophisticated.

And, well, you took after your father.

You just had the biggest luck of having no other male than Kunigami as your new roommate for the new semester, and for the most part, it was nice with him.

Well, except for the part that his clothes were basically everywhere, and even in places they shouldn't be, for example worn and sweaty and stinky socks the kitchen?

But that was not the only ick he had. He was way too calm and tried to mansplain you over and over again with stuff you'd do with your girl-math.

And that would always lead to arguments. I mean, who cares if the coupon expired, the staff would close an eye on a sweet thing like you and done was the thing, so why did the orange haired guy have to mind your business?

"Jeez, can't you let me be for once?"

"You're not doing it right. The coupon has expired-"

"Why can't you mind your own business?", you'd say in an annoyed tone, with the male looking down at you, confused and also slightly irritated.

"Because it's not fair for the workers-"

"They were still ready to accept it, dude. I even told them before you came back with your pack of 'protein' chocolate bars."

And then he'd look to the side with a frown and a cute pout.

And, well, you've grown to hate him a bit because of that. When he was gone for practise or afternoon school, the apartment would be silent and pleasant, with you being able to clean up everything and even cook something nice as he'd come home.

But, as soon as he'd come in, he'd ask stupid questions like; "How much kcal does a portion of your food have?", "Is it oily?", "You cooked too much."

Ugh! Can't he let you be for once? You also don't ask him about everything!

"Stop asking me those questions, and just eat what I cook!", You'd exclaim in an annoyed tone, already irritated by the mere smell of his sweat (caramel*cough*Bakugo*cough*), and you'd huff.

And then, Kunigami Rensuke would have the audacity to ask you why you behaved like that, because he was just asking normal questions and he liked keeping a diet.

...yeah, would be hard for somebody who wasn't japanese and only knew how to cook cultural and traditional home-food.

and it is tiring. Having the same arguments over and over again.

And thus, you gave Kunigami the name "tea-kettle", leaving him dumbfounded at the nickname insult. whenever he asked you what you meant by that, you'd just huff and tell him that you were busy with somehting.

But, that was not the only thing that made you irritated and angry the whole time.

You had just broken up with your boyfriend Oiver, having him caught cheating on you with a blonde bitch who couldn't even hold a candle next to you.

And you were horny.

More than the average human.

So...you ordered a few dildos...which were pretty big.

...

Kunigami thought you were cute, but weird. Easily frustrated and pretty irritable. you were a feisty woman.

He didn't know why you'd always snap at him when he'd ask you simple questions. He always apologizes when you scold him for forgetting to do something or doing something wrong.

He doesn't know why you are like this. Even though you're a great roommate who loves a clean home and can cook, he doesn't like your attitude.

Not a single bit.

...okay, maybe a little. But most of the time, it irritates him as well. He's just glad that he could have a silent night because you were not a night owl...until you became one.

And he also had to listen to the noises you made...making him blush, and also move his member into a stiff position.

Kunigami had trouble deciphering your personality. He had trouble getting smart from your 'girl-math'?? and why you always yelled at him with his clothes.

He can't be blamed when they fly all over the place, he also forgets where he placed his belongings, but now he's the one irritated.

Now, since a month, he has to listen to you going dumb over fucking a dildo, having to listen to your moans, whimpers and gasps while you pump it in and outside of you.

and it was also you who said a month earlier that you didn't like dicks.

That you despised them. That they looked weird.

You said that dicks were disappointing.

But why were you riding one then? Did something happen for you to change your mindset?

...

It was a late afternoon when you came home to the apartment just like you left it, which meant that Kunigami wasn't home yet. Perfect.

You quickly went into your room, taking off your bottoms and then taking out the dildo you purchased just recently. It was bigger than the ones you were using previously, and you could also stick it to the ground or wall to ride it.

and just as you were done putting it into your awaiting vagina, Kunigami stepped in to your room. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, staring at you with a serious expression and a small blush as you tried to cover yourself in a haste while you yelled profanities at him.

you were embarassed to be seen like that, having a big cock inside you, and being caught by your crush roommate doing something explicit like that. But...it turned you on. you were an exhibitionist at heart, and getting caught in such a position, with your legs spread to have him see your pussy and thr orange dildo inside it...it made you wet.

"You said that dicks were dissappointing, so what is that?", he mused and took in your form. Your brows were furrowed, face red...from embarassent or pleasure? you were panting like a bitch in heat, and he also caught sight of the large silicone cock you had buried deep inside you.

"Not your dick, that much is clear!", you snapped back. you wanted to yell at him to leave the room. To blackmail him. but...you also wanted to see where this was going. He didn't look disgusted with you being horny. He didn't look disappointed...more...amused?..maybe also aroused?

He huffed in amusement before sitting himself down on your desk chair manspreading, making you ogle at his hard-on, which was way larger than the one you had inside of you. He nodded his head to your direction, smirking.

"C'mon, tell me. Why should my dick be disappointing?", Kunigami asked and slowly took his hands from his thighs up to his zipper. You gulped as you watched him like a hawk.

"hmpf! B-because you probably have a small di-", and gone was your voice when Kunigami took it out. too heavy to stand upright was the seven inch penis he held in his pants, thicker than a soda can, and veiny was it too.

Kunigami bit his lip as he blushed from your wide eyes. Kunigami had no idea what the fuck he was doing. Not a single idea.

He was the biggest virgin after all, but he knew from his friends that he had a rather large cock. However, you were the first one to actually see it. The first female, to be precise.

and, well, since you were a girl and also somehow his crush, Kunigami felt his ego and pride increasing every passing second your eyes lingered on his dick.

"Do I have a small dick, ____?", came out in a soft, deep tone. You took a shaky breath before closing your eyes and shaking your head no.

You were salivating, in your mouth and your pussy. His cock was glorious. it even looked big in his hands, which were also pretty big to begin with. you gulped down your saliva before you tore your eyes up to his face. "N-no...", you choked. You forgot about the cock which rested inside your pussy and just thought about his, your eyes widening and gasping when he drove his thumb over the head.

It looked amazing, just that single movement, with him rubbing his thumb around the tip of his head. "hnn...mm...", he whimpered and moaned as he slowly started to masturbate.

"Th-then why...of fuck...why do you hate me?", he gritted through his teeth when he applied pressure while rubbing himself. your eyes widened and you blushed even more.

You raised yourself to walk over to him and emphasize that you indeed didn't hate him anymore, but you forgot that you had somehting inside you, and you gasped when you felt the dildo drag his thickness along your walls.

Kunigami saw it. the way the dildo raised itself a bit while you were trying to stand up from your seat, how wet it was...he moved his hand up and down his dick once with force, and flinched with a whimper.

"ahh...I-I don't hate you...!", you moaned when you sat back down. But you raised yourself right again. If Kunigami made himself feel good, why shouldn't you?

"Oh yeah? ...th-then why are you a-*hiss*-always yelling??", he groaned when he saw you slowly riding the dildo. your boobs were jiggling with every rise and fall you did, and he also couldn't ignore the slapping sound which erupted softly. He gulped and sighed shakily as he flicked his wrist around his cock.

"mmh, because you never do what I tell you!...ah..hah...Your c-clothes are always thrown somewhere...oh...a-and you always forget to do stuff!", you exclaimed, speeding up your thrusts on the cock.

Kunigami hissed in pleasure when he pressed down on his dick head. His dick twitched painfully at the way you were assaulting the dildo. he was jealous that he wasn't inside you. He bit his lip, glaring at the orange dick.

"why is it orange??", he asked after he stopped jerking off for a moment. you somehow blushed even more. "...i...um...", you spoky shyly, looking at the ground in front of you.

And, well, he took it as a chance to stand up and walk over to youpushing you onto your back harshly. You gasped when his rough hands touched your soft body, and he hovered over you with a smirk, sitting on his parted knees and toes, your legs on his thighs as he brought his hand up and down his dick while the other one took hold of the dildo inside you.

"does it...remind you of me?", he asked softly, quietly, as he slowly took out the dildo. you held in your breath, not daring to say anything. you were embarassed, laying on your back with your legs over his and seeing him so...seductively...majestically...on his knees as he looks down on you.

Suddenly, you were filled up to the brim, knocking the air out of your lungs. Kunigami pressed the plastic cock into you with force, and you choked on your own breath.

"Come on, ____...answer me.", he says in a deep tone, and you could hear a hint of irritation but moreso desire in it. You averted your eyes shyly.

"yes...", you breathed out and looked at him. you felt bare, with no bottoms and you also decided to wear a low-cut, tight shirt with no bra. you had cute thigh highs though.

And Kunigami...well, like I said...he looked majestic, with his tight shirt, having sweated a little into it, making his abs and pecs more defined, along with his pants nearly getting torn open as they tried holding his muscular and flexed thighs covered. and then there where his arms, one being directed to your frame while the other held his member.

and...his eyes...his face...he looked so handsome...like a prince, or king...he was your hero.

He huffed in amusement before leaning more and more down, until he was hovering over your torso. his hands were now planted on either side of your head as you looked at him with wide eyes, feeling his hot, big dick against your stomach and the dildo inside you get sucked in by your pussy.

you gulped when he took a strand of your hair and kissed it. "Listen, ____...I'd...like to do it with you.", he spoke gently, softly, only for you to hear as he gazed at you through his lashes. he had a small blush on, even though he was literally jerking off to you in front of you a few moments ago.

your face heated up. you were surprised he even wanted to have to do anything with you. but, you should've seen it coming when he didn't call you disgusting and took his cock out instead.

"why?", you asked, feeling shy and vulnerable underneath him. His gaze on you was intense and you couldn't help but look away in embarassment.

Kunigami carefully put one of his large hands on your cheek and slowly directed your face to look at him. "Because...even though you have an attitude with me, you're actually a pretty sweet person...I mean", he spoke and took one of your hands and softly tracing his thumb on the back of it, "you clean up the apartment...you cook nice meals...and you're also a pretty chill roommate, although we often get into arguments."

you huffed in embarassment. "how dare you confess to me while I have a dick inside me and yours is hanging out?!"

Kunigami blushed as well. "I-I want to do it with you! And you asked me why! So I answered!"

there was a moment of silence as you two stared at each other, completely flustered. Then you brought your hands up to his face. he blushed once more. you frowned at him with red cheeks.

"then...l-let's do it...", you whispered before you kissed him. His eyes widened when your lips connected with his. Rensuke's eyes fluttered to a close as they rolled back and he kissed you back passionately.

you moaned against his lips when he parted the first kiss and opened his mouth, making out with you. his tongue rubbed and danced against yours, and you could taste some of the leftover soup he must've eaten which you prepared earlier.

While he was getting lost in the feeling of your mouths clashing against one another and your sweet moans, one of his hands started to wander as the other one held himself up above you. the one which wasn't holding himself upwards caressed your side, then went up to gently squeeze one of your bra-less tits, groaning against your lips when he felt the soft flesh spill out between the palms of his hands.

he kissed your nose before trailing his kisses south. his lips made contact with your jaw, then three kisses down your throat and neck, a few smacks against your pretty collarbone until he neared your boob.

your legs were wrapped around his hips and your arms around his neck. you were letting soft sighs and moans escape you when he did his ministrations.

it was silent. no words spoken as you let him do as he pleased with your body, and you were pleasantly surprised when he didn't start fucking you like you were some kind of whore, like Oliver did.

No. He treated you like his lover. Like his wife.

You sighed shakily. And then he stopped.

"Kuni-" "Rensuke.", he interrupted you, looking at you with fond eyes.

"...Rensuke...", you started then, in a trance as you looked at the handsome male above you. "why...why did you stop?"

He looked to the side sheepishly, a blush coating his cheekbones. "D-do you maybe have ...a-a condom? Don't wanna risk it...", he said quietly, shyly as he swallowed the lump of saliva.

You nodded then. 'of course! gosh, I'm so stupid!', you thought as you rolled to the side to take something from the drawer on the night stand. A pack of XXL (does that even exist?) condoms.

His eyes widened when you gave him a single pack while you took a few more with a red face. then you quickly tucked the rest away. "w-why...do you have a pack of condoms?", he asked. Last time he remembered, you told him you were single, so why...?

"I had a boyfriend named Oliver, but he cheated on me...", you mumbled as you laid there on your stomach, showing him your body from behind and even though Kunigami felt bad for you, he bit his lip when he saw your juicy ass and thighs.

"How dare he...!?", Rensuke seethed instead and ripped off the pack. your shoulder flinched as you listened to the sound of him taking out the lubed condom and hissing as he slowly put it over his dick.

"are you okay?", you asked softly over your shoulder, glancing at him. then you turned around completely with an angry face.

"WHAT THE HELL!?!", you yelled when he took off his clothes, which...landed all over the place...again...in a random room though.

He rolled his eyes playfully. "I'll pick 'em up later, sweetheart", he grumbled under his breath as you turned around on your stomach again and huffed in annoyance. However, you weren't prepared when you felt your ankles get grabbed and you yelped when you got pulled backwards.

your lower half was out from the bed, with your knees and feet on the ground, your hips at the edge and your upper body on the bed. you turned around again and glared at him. "what was that f-mmh!"

ye, he shut you up by kissing you. his hand held your throat as he made you look to the side and he kissed you passionately, pulling at your nipple with the other hand before releasing it and trailing his hand lower to play with your clit a little. He couldn't find it and massaged your pussy lips instead. but it also felt nice.

You moaned against his mouth when he finally found the nub though, and assaulted it by rubbing his thumb up and down on it, while applying pressure. His hand on your neck tightened, and the dildo you still head inside you got squeezed by your walls.

you panted and whimpered against his lips. He leaned his head back to look at you. He smiled while panting as well, and only now did you feel his dick rub against your butt. "does...can...could he make you feel like this?", he whispered and kissed your cheek.

you keened at his words and sighed. "No. n-never- ah!", you yelped and your back arched when he took off your dildo from you. You felt empty and whined at the loss. he chuckled as he looked at the slick-covered cock.

"My turn."

You blushed heavily at that.

He then placed the dildo on your bed, right in front of you, as he aligned his cock to your entrance. your toes curled inside your highs as you glanced behind you with a nervousness you didn't even feel when Oliver fucked you.

"d-do you think it'll fit?"

Kunigami looked up with a parted mouth before smiling fondly at you. "...I'll make it fit."

You "eep!"ed. how could he say something like that?!

"w-wait, have you had sex before???"

"Nope, but I hope you'll let me practise."

Your mouth stood open as you stared at him in disbelief and he chuckled nervously. "J-just relax-"

"THAT'S EASY FOR YOU TO SAY!", you yelled in fear and gripped the bedsheets tightly. Kunigami scoffed. "C'mon, I'm sure your ex had a big cock as well, no?"

"Not as big as yours...!", you retorted with an annoyed pout but you flinched when you felt the head of his penis press against your pussy. even though your legs where spread, you could feel him touch your pussy and your inner thighs, that's how big he was.

you started to have second thoughts. "H-how ab- AHH!", you yelled, when he pressed his head inside. you two took a minute to regain your breaths. you were surprised that it didn't sting as much as you thought, but it still hurt, but you liked it, somehow.

and Kunigami was having his face directed to the ceiling as his mouth stood open in a gasp. He didn't know that your pussy was so tight, even after you've been having that huge ass dildo inside of you. how was that even possible?

"S-...sorry, sweetheart! I-I...fuck...I c-couldn't help--ohhh...myself!", he exclaimed as he felt your pussy pulse around his head. he tried not to thrust into you or fall unconscious from the amount of pleasure he got. You were mewling on the bed.

It just felt so good, even if it pained you very much. "Please...wait a lil more...", you asked, but Kunigami wanted to keep going. He then called you the nickname you used as an insult on him.

"You're such a tea-kettle, y'know that?", he groaned as he leaned onto you from behind and right into your ear and stroked your thighs, ass, back and sides with his large, warm hands. you squirmed in embarassment and pleasure.

"w-what's that s'posed ta mean!?", you asked right afterwards but gasped when his fingers played with your nipples. "How about you fix your attitude 'round me, love?", he asked in a whisper instead before he kissed the back of your shoulder with closed eyes.

You hated him. More than you ever could. How dare he speak to you like that, hah?!? Makes you regret your life choices by pushing his dick inside of you and then having the fucking audacity to tell you to "fix your attitude"??? And also how dare he make you feel so special? Asking you for consent before he did something like putting his dick inside of you and then also respecting you for wanting to wait a bit to adjust?

What the fuck?

With Oliver it just went straight to fucking, but with Kuni- ahem, Rensuke...it was more like...making love.

you had to watch your tone around Kunigami. He was a good guy. you blushed and after a while, you put your right arm up to scratch his head.

"y-you can move now...", you muttered shyly and prepared to get knocked out with a single thrust from him, but you were met with a Ransuke who massaged your hips in order to distract you from the oncoming pain as he pushed his dick more into you with a tempo which was slower than a snail.

It nearly didn't hurt at all when he bottomed out, having had to ask you to spread your legs a little more so that he could fit inside you fully, but even that didn't help as there was still a bit less than half of him outside. Rensuke gulped before chuckling breathlessly.

Now, your walls were literally pumping him at this point, and he tossed his head back with a groan.

"h-how do you feel, pretty?", he asked as he looked at your upper body which lay on the bed. your eyes were closed. Peacefully.

He panicked. "_-____?!"

You jolted. "what?!", you yelped, feeling fuller than a thanksgiving turkey. You just wanted to rest, because you felt like you coud fall asleep like that. your knees started to hurt, though.

"Oh, thank god...I thought you were unconscious...or worse...!", he said in a scared tone and hugged you. your eyes widened.

Oliver didn't care for you like that. He just fucked you, and that was it. He didn't really take care after the sex. he just threw a wet washcloth at you and left.

You felt like crying. "I-thank you, Rensuke...", you spoke softly and moaned when his dick twitched. "S-sorry..."

You giggled before pressing yourself against his hips, biting your lip and moaning aloud when you felt him go deeper inside you, and Rensuke grabbed the sheets tightly as he grinded against your butt. He cursed a lot because of that before he grabbed your hips. "S-stop. stop it, please.", he begged, and you stopped abruptly.

"wanna stop completely?", you asked as you turned around, seeing his taller frame rise and fall rapidly as his head hung low. "N-no...just...c-can we...take a small break? and maybe do it on the bed?", Rensuke asked shyly as he looked up at you with a pained expression.

you were turned on. too much. You nodded silently and began to miss the fullness his dick gave you, feeling completely empty now. You shakily stood up and hugged his head, playing with his hair as he hugged you back, still on his knees. "sorry..."

"Hey, it's okay, baby.", you shushed him, and made him face you as you looked at him fondly...lovingly. "It's your first time, Rennie, don't want you to fuck me into oblivion, y'know? We can also cuddle if you want. Also thank you for telling me to stop. Many people pull through the act even if they don't like it. I'm glad you let me know."

your voice was gently, your fingers working wonders on his hair and head, and he sighed contently, hugging you tightly before he stood up, towering over you and gently pushing you back to the bed.

You crawled back with a grin when he smiled and crawled to you with a hint of mischiviousness. You bit your lip excitedly when his face neared yours. "You're just so pretty, ____...the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.", he said softly, and before you could react did he kiss you clumsily on the lips.

Seems like he never kissed anybody as well...was he a hardcore virgin? And your heart fluttered at his praise. you kissed him back with more passion, your experience letting you dominate the kissing as you felt him shyly open his mouth for you to enter with your tongue.

And you also took this as a chance to turn the tables. The moment you parted lips, you quickly pushed him back, making him land on his back with a "w-whoah!" as you sat yourself on his hips, his dick right underneath your slick, juicy cunt.

You glared at him playfully before you leaned down and started making out with him again, changing the angle of your head again and again to kiss him differently, and he caught on over time, and soon, your tongues danced together as you eplored each others bodies with your hands.

Rensuke was the first to part, panting as he had his eyes closed in bliss, and his legs twitched violently when you rolled your hips against his groin. he hissed. "f-fuck..!"

you keened at the pleasure, loving how nice the pussyjob felt which you gave him. "you like that, baby boy?", you teased as you drove your hips slowly and with much more pressure up and forward to the head of his dick, and he trembled slightly.

"D-don't call me baby boy...! ....but...feels good...", he gritted through his teeth as he felt his orgasm approach. You narrowed your eyes at him with a smirk before you took his dick gently, holding the heavy schlong up as softly as possible, with him looking at you confused through his blissed out face.

He didn't have to ask you what you were about to do though, because you just raised your hips, putting his dick at your entrance, and then lowering yourself again slowly. And this time, his dick went in fully. you had a belly bulge. Kunigami wanted to cum right then and there.

He moaned shakily when he felt your pulsing walls again, placing his hands on your waist this time as he leaned forward and kissed you. "mmh, y'make me cum..."

"I hope so...'m close too, y'know?", you answered and took one of his hands, placing it on your throat. He raised his eyebrow. "felt good when you did this...do it again. But apply some more pressure...here.", you said softly when you placed his thumb and middle finger on either side of your pulse points.

he frowned with a blush. "I-I only did it in the heat of the moment, ____-"

"And I loved it. Please do it again?"

He looked at you for a moment before he sighed. He then thrusted upwards, up into your g-spot and put slight pressure on your throat, cutting off your air support little by little.

your eyes were glazed over a bit as they fluttered and you began raising and lowering yourself on him. He applied more pressure and you groaned, feeling the air leave your lings, and your vagina pulsed around his dick, making him gasp sharply.

In less than a second, you were back on your back now, with him still being inside you, you gasping for air as he left your throat to stabilize himself before he began thrusting into you, knocking out the air from your lungs like that as well.

you scratched his muscular wrists with your nails as you mewled and gasped and moaned at the feeling of his dick pumping in and outside of you. He was panting above you, and he reveled in the view of you.

Lost, but looking up at him as if he was some sort of divine person...like he was a hero...

He groaned loudly before he adjusted his legs and spread them a bit more a part before he swiveled his hips against yours in a slapping motion. "Oh shit...fuck! Y're so tight...hnnnghh~...", he whimpered as he tried keeping up his ministrations, and you were gasping and moaning.

He wanted to cum so fucking badly...but he wanted you to orgasm on his dick first. he then looked down from your face, to your jiggling tits with each thrust he made -he smiled dumbly at that- before his gaze travelled more downwards to where your pussy and his dick met. your pussy was glistening with your own juice, which allowed Kunigami to go into you much easier.

He put his finger on your clit and swiped it around quickly as he felt like he could cum any second now. And it also didn't help any more as he felt you gasp sharply and whine at his fingers.

Everything was so...loud. The slapping of skin against skin, and the wet sounds of your juice and his dick rubbing around inside you, the rustling of sheets as you kicked your feet around in pleasure, the bed creaking with Kunigami's thrusts, and the sounds which you and Rensuke made.

you came first with a cry of his name, squirting as you did so, and Kunigami's mouth stood wide open as he watched you, while cumming into the condom inside you.

He and you were a panting, sweaty mess.

"uh...d-did you two have to do it in my room?", came the shy voice of Ness, your new roommate. He was a blushing mess when he saw you two, but you noticed his boner (which he poorly hid), and so did Kunigami.

---

bwahaahahah

I hope this was good enough, and I will read it again after some time.

Read you in the next post! Requests are CLOSED (...until I say they're open again)

#bllk x reader #kunigami x reader #kunigami rensuke #bllk kunigami #blue lock kunigami #kunigami smut #kunigami #rensuke kunigami x reader #rensuke x reader #kunigami x you #kunigami x female reader #bllk smut #kunigami fluff #lamb.writes #kunigami rensuke smut #blue lock smut #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you

[grandlinedreams]

Hello!!! I love the way you write for Law 💕 if you’re open to it, I’ve been imagining a scenario during the Dressrosa arc where reader manages to sneak into Doffys castle and while rummaging through his room finds an old wanted poster of Corazon tucked away, and she decides to take it. After the final battle with doffy she finds a time to give it to law since he doesn’t have any pictures of him. A little bit of angst, little bit of fluff, maybe a little thank you kiss ;0 idk I’ll let you feel it out, again if you’re up to it!!! 💕

This is such a cute lil idea :((

[Heads up!: mentions of Dressrosa and tiny bit Law's past, spoilers for Zhou, tiny bit of angst, comfort]

"Is your arm hurting?"

Law turns at your question to find you watching him, focus trained on the bandages looped around his arm ㅡ the arm he'd nearly lost permanently, thanks to Doflamingo.

"It's fine," he says, and you roll your eyes.

"Don't be a tough guy. C'mere." You don't give him room for protest, even though he wants to ㅡ he's the doctor after all, and he can take care of himself. He sighs before he moves to join you on your perch of a fallen tree, unbothered by the thick vines and blanket of moss around you.

Tugging your backpack off your shoulders, you rummage around for the tin of salve and a roll of fresh bandages, pausing when your fingers brush paper.

Confused, you tug at it enough to determine what it is, freezing when you remember what it is. Right ㅡ you'd forgotten about it in the chaos that had unfolded after finding it.

"Problem?" Law's voice makes you jolt, and you look up to find him staring at you.

"No," you answer hastily, thumbing the corner of worn paper before you sigh and pull it from your backpack. "Here, I was meaning to give this to you."

You push the paper at the same time that you grab for his arm, making Law fumble to grab the paper before it can drift to the ground. You keep your attention on unwrapping his arm as you hear paper rustle, then you speak. "I found it in Doflamingo's room while I was looking for anything we could use to turn into the marines. The name...sounded familiar, so I grabbed it for you."

Law stares at the paper. It's been folded and refolded, yellowed with time ㅡ but he knows the face that stares back. Corazon.

Your fingers drift over his bare skin, oily from the salve you rub around the neat stitches, mindful not to press too hard.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped a boundary," you say quietly as you wrap his arm back up with clean bandages. "I just thought maybeㅡ"

"You're fine." Law moves as soon as you let go, and the warmth of his hand at your cheek startles you as he coaxes you into looking at him.

Private man that he is, the idea of affection in spaces where others can see is not something Law is fond of, but a quick sweep says that the two of you are alone ㅡ and he leans to press a soft, chaste kiss to your lips.

"Thank-you," he murmurs when he pulls away, moving to tuck the paper safely into his own bag before he stands, reaching to tug you to your feet. "We need to catch up with the others."

You blink and then take his hand, squeezing gently. "Right behind you."

#ㅡmine. #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Hi love ❤️ I was wondering if you could do Dabi, Shigaraki, chrono and Kai with a S/O who who just grabs them and shoves their face in to her chest when they monologue. Like the S/O is just tired of their endless ranting so she does that to shut them up

*cracks fingers* I would love to-

Listen, you and Dabi rarely fights, so usually a argument is more like the kind of "Oh I like cheese" while the other is staring at you in disgust with a "You are mentally ill."

Really. That's it.

Is actually pretty funny, but now? You were almost throwing a chair at the mktherfucker since he was mocking you about not winning a bet you both made over a movie.

"Another loss doll, what a shame." He muttered, resting his smug face on his hands as he leaned on the kitchen counter as you deadpanned at him.

"Yeah yeah you won, now leave me alone." You hissed.

"Nah. I just need to see your expression at losing again. I can't even remember the count now, do you? I think I won on our lil discussions about of... 100 times already?" He made a false thinking expression as you threw a towel at him...

He obviously dodged with a cackle.

"SHUT UP!"

"I'm just speaking the truth here." He spat with a snort.

You had enough and just went to where he was. Thankfully he was sitting down so it would be more easy.

"Oh. Someone wants a round 2?" He smirked devilish before his eyes went wide open when your hands just grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his face right into your tatas.

Well... that was unexpected but surely not unwelcome.

"You're done?" You grumbled with a smile on your face as you nuzzle on his tainted hair before you felt a pair of rough hands squeezing your waist and surely felt a warmth emitting from his face.

"Yeah. I'm shutting up now." The vibrations of his rough voice made you ticklish.

He wouldn't. If you do this every time he will never shut his mouth.

Probably was complaining about heroes or a game he didn't won or smth.

And you were just like "hey chill os not the end of world."

Okay, not LITERALLY because if you say that it will surely cause trouble between you two.

But you got it.

I will go with the second option since I kinda feel bad for him considering the recents events (both manga and anime)

"Tomu is okay."

"No its not." He growled, fingers already at work on scratching his neck "Didn't you see it? That guy obviously cheated. Probably is a momma or daddy boy and got those cheats on games paying billions for it."

"Huh?" You let out. Sometimes in the middle of his angry ramblings you couldn't understand or just the dots didn't connected.

But something you didn't want was for this man to mess up his skin more than it was. His neck was a victim of abuse from his nails already.

You got up in the kindle of his rambling and gently started to caress the oily hair he had before sucefully hushing him and bringing him to a hug with his face other between your chest.

The rambling immediately stopped as his hands started to tremble and for a moment you were afraid you did something to piss him off even more when he just straight up pushed himself away abruptly.

But the sign his face was now a deep shade of red that matched his ruby eyes immediately melted your worry away as you muffled your giggle with your hand.

"Sorry, that got you out of guard tomu?"

He glared up at you before standing up from his chair before just burning his face on your neck, not touching you with his hands still.

He can't even remember why he was so mad about.

Look how effective your love was!

ALL HE KNOWS IS COMPLAIN I SWEAR TO GOD-

Sorry, this man drives me crazy

Anyway-

Surely was bitching about heroes and diseases and how they shouldn't exist/need a cure after bumling with one of them on his walk.

And normally you would sit and listen with pleasure since you were basically the only one Chisaki was open with absolutely everything.

But today was not your day.

You were just staring at him pacing around the room while you were sat on the bed just wanting to go to sleep.

It was a bold and dangerous move considering that normally you warn Chisaki or he just sees so he can prepare himself.

But nope. You just got up and pulled him abruptly to a hug with his face right on your minimum covered chest.

"Please Kai just go to bed... " You sighed while trying to carres the back of his skull.

Only later realizing the fair uncomfortable position he might been.

Chisaki was a bit taller than you... and the angle he was now made him arch his back rather... awkwardly.

You were about to pull away until his gloved hands grabbed the back of your night shirt as he exhaled shakily on you.

Oh...

Guess you guys found a coping mechanism for when he gets nervous.

He doesn't complain. He is an angel.

But he does go a rambling sometimes.

We saw that before he got attacked by a majority he was on ramble about to just kill aizawa.

Okay, maybe not a angel-

I totally can see Kurono as one of those dorky guys that goes mumbling without a care about something he enjoys it a lot.

And got shut out many times when he was a kid due to this habit (many times was Chisaki that ass-)

So he just tends to try to control it

Keyword try.

Because he is so comfortable around you that he can't just out of no where stop.

You're just watching him with a dreamy sigh as he explained in each detail about his favorite gun until he noticed your lack of response.

"Ha.. sorry about that." He scratched his cheek lightly

You weren't having that.

This man was so FLUSTERED when you scorched over and pulled him to nuzzle on your chest on the bed.

Face was 50 shades of red.

"Don't apologize for that. You like those things and I love hearing you talk. Please keep going."

I swear this man had heart eyes when staring up at you from his chest before he resumed his explanations but far more at ease at the position

Might have popped a boner

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shimura tenko x reader #overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #chrono x reader #kurono hari x reader #bnha villains x reader #bnha villains #chisaki kai #overhaul #bnha hcs #zuffer writings

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Wash Day With Venom & Eddie

Pairing: Eddie Brock x Black!Reader x Venom

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none it's very cute

Genre: fluff, I'd say a lil comedy cuz Eddie and Venom are a very unserious duo

Summary: Venom is curious about how you wash your hair

***

You check the clock on the wall as the latest episode of your current date night watch with Eddie comes to an end and let out a sigh realizing you have to get going. You stand up and stretch with Eddie and Venom turning down the volume on whatever preview Netflix is playing.

"Alright, boys I have to get going now." You say leaning down to kiss Eddie's cheek.

"WHAT?! WHY? I THOUGHT YOU WERE SPENDING THE NIGHT!" Venom stretches his head to look at you closely when you stand back up.

"I can't tonight V, I have today is wash day." You tell him petting the top of his head.

"LIKE FOR YOUR LAUNDRY?!"

"No sweetie, for my hair." You smile.

"WASH IT HERE."

"I don't have any of my hair products here Venom I can't do that." You laugh.

"USE EDDIE'S. HE HAS THAT HAIR SOAP TOO. RIGHT EDDIE?"

"No way. My hair is far too temperamental for me to just be borrowing any old shampoo. She has very specific requirements." You say.

"ISN'T IT ALL THE SAME?"

"No Venom it's not. My hair is very different than Eddie's so it requires very different care." You chuckle.

"OH. SO BRING YOUR PRODUCTS HERE. I WANT TO SEE THIS DIFFERENT CARE."

"You're surprisingly curious about this, but I'm not bringing all my hair care here that's quite a few items."

"SO WE WILL COME TO YOUR PLACE." Venom declares.

"Venom bud, I know you wanna spend every moment of every day with her but we gotta let her have her personal time ya know." Eddie steps in.

"I WANT TO SEE HOW SHE WASHES HER HAIR!" Venom glares at Eddie.

"We know but maybe that's not something she wants to show you." Eddie says.

"It's a long process V, takes like an hour and you are not exactly known for your patience." You say.

"AN HOUR?! EDDIE'S HAIR TAKES LIKE FIFTEEN MINUTES IN THE SHOWER EVERY OTHER DAY!"

"Eddie's hair gets gross and oily much quicker than mine. Washing it that often would pretty much destroy it."

"Hey! My hair does not get gross, okay?" 

"Because you wash it regularly. My point still stands what happens to you in like 3 days would take at least a month or two for my type of hair. Probably longer. That's not important. V, it takes a long while to wash."

"I CAN BE PATIENT!" Venom protests.

"I actually don't think you can." Eddie snorts.

"IS THAT A CHALLENGE?"

"No, not at all." He shakes his head.

"PLEASE LITTLE DROP, LET US COME OVER SO I CAN WATCH YOU WASH YOUR HAIR." Venom turns his attention back to you.

"If, and I do mean if, if I let you guys come to my place so you can satisfy your curiosity I don't want to hear a single complaint about how long it takes V." You point a finger at him.

"I HAVE NOTHING TO COMPLAIN ABOUT WHEN I'M WITH YOU." He offers a smile.

"That was very smooth." Eddie says with surprise.

"Also, no distracting. It already takes long enough, and I have to get it done. I mean it Venom you can't get all handsy with me when I'm in the shower."

"I CAN BEHAVE!"

"You have to. Or you'll have to leave. Once the hair washing has started I can't really just stop the process in the middle. I'm serious V."

"I WILL BE ON MY BEST BEHAVIOR. I PROMISE."

"Venom our girlfriend isn't an observational study you know you can't just watch her doing everyday tasks like that." Eddie chuckles.

"IS IT NOT NORMAL TO WANT TO KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT SOMEONE YOU LOVE? I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU." Venom says to him.

"It's fine to want to know about her sure, but don't treat her regular tasks like they're something strange."

"I DON'T THINK THEY'RE STRANGE BUT THEY'RE DIFFERENT THAN YOURS AND I'M CURIOUS."

"Okay boys don't fight. I know you're being considerate Eddie and I appreciate that advocacy but Venom is an alien so I feel like this curosity is pretty standard for him and I don't really mind." You jump in before the two of them get into it like they so often do.

"I just don't want you to be uncomfortable. I know being watched while washing your hair can be weird." Eddie frowns.

"I'd probably be uncomfortable if it was anyone but Venom so I get where you're coming from." You shrug.

"I PROMISE I'M NOT TRYING TO MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE AND I WILL DO MY BEST NOT TO ACT LIKE I'M STUDYING YOU BUT CAN WE GO NOW?" Venom asks making you and Eddie laugh at his impatience.

"Fine! We'll go." Eddie rolls his eyes. Venom at this point takes over and scoops you into his arms suddenly, swinging out of Eddie's window.

"Venom we could've walked!" You shout.

"THIS IS QUICKER!" Venom insists. It's only a couple of moments before Venom opens your window and climbs inside.

"Geez you're impatient." You huff out a laugh as you take your shoes off and toss them by the door. You head into your room to grab a t-shirt and your comb before going to your bathroom with Venom tailing behind you. You get into your shower and run the warm water over your hair for several minutes. Venom gives Eddie back his body now but the alien stretches his neck enough to watch over the top of your shower.

"I cannot believe you dragged us here to watch her wash her hair." Eddie scoffs.

"Welcome back Eddie." You laugh.

"IF YOU'RE GOING TO COMPLAIN I WILL JUST TAKE THE BODY BACK. SHE SAID WE CAN ONLY STAY IF WE DON'T COMPLAIN." Venom says.

"Well technically the condition was you don't complain about how long this whole thing takes you tell Venom. You laugh as you put in your shampoo and scrub at your scalp until there's a decent lather. You rinse it thoroughly before turning the water off for the next part.

"ARE YOU DONE?" Venom asks and Eddie snorts out a laugh.

"No, not done, but the next part takes the longest and if I left the water on it would get cold before I got out of here." You explain as you run decent amounts of conditioner through your hair.

"THE NEXT PART?"

"I'm putting in conditioner and then I have to detangle my hair."

"DE...TANGLE?"

"Dude I'm sure you know that means." Eddie says.

"SURE BUT NOT WITH HAIR."

"It means the same thing regardless of the context V, my hair is very thick it gets tangled with itself after a while so I have to use a comb to get work out the knots." You explain as you start to work the comb through your hair in small sections.

"EDDIE HAS A COMB. IT'S MUCH SMALLER."

"Yeah, that's mostly a styling comb. Plus his hair is thinner. My hair would... probably break those combs." You tell him.

"DO ALL WOMEN DO THIS?"

"Well it's not a woman specific thing. Really just anyone with long hair probably has a similar process but how time consuming it is depends on a few things though, length, texture, thickness- that sort of thing. Thick coily hair, like mine, which is common for Black people takes longer than straight hair, like Eddie's when he goes to long without a haircut."

"Hey! I rock the longer hair." Eddie protests.

"Eddie you hate when your hair gets too shaggy." You laugh.

"Not always. Do you think it looks bad?"

"No but I think you don't like taking proper care of your hair when it gets too long."

"Y/N I LIKE YOUR CURLS."

"Thank you, so do I. That's why I don't mind the maintenance of spending half an hour detangling it. Plus I get to do so much with it as far as styling goes." You shrug.

"OH LIKE WHEN YOU HAD THOSE ROPE-LIKE THINGS IN YOUR HAIR."

"They're called braids Venom. I told you this before." Eddie tsks at him while you chuckle.

"BRAIDS. WILL YOU DO THEM AGAIN? YOU HAD THEM WHEN YOU AND EDDIE FIRST STARTED DATING."

"Yeah, I'm actually planning to do them tomorrow. I typically don't do them in the summer that's why it's been while." You tell him.

"HOW DO YOU DO THEM?" Venom asks.

"I can show you, tomorrow if you'd like to see how it works. It's a little hard to explain really."

"I WOULD LIKE TO SEE!" He nods excitedly. You put down the comb with a small huff, satisfied with the detangling you've done.

"Venom." Eddie sighs.

"Then if Eddie isn't busy tomorrow you guys can come by while I do my hair." You say grabbing your bodywash and washcloth. You give the conditioner a few minutes to sit in your hair by washing your body and face first.

"WHY DO IT TOMORROW AND NOT TONIGHT?" Venom asks.

"Because it takes hours and I'd be up all night if I tried to do it now. Plus I try not to use the hairdryer if I don't have to and braiding wet hair if you plan to keep the braids in is a bad idea. It needs to be dry first so I do that overnight." You wash the conditioner out of your hair careful to minimize retangling.

"SO DOING YOUR HAIR IS A TWO DAY PROCESS?"

"Only if I plan to do anything else with either day. Like if I had gotten up super early and washed my hair, let it dry throughout the day I could maybe have been doing it through the evening but- I don't like to spend a continuous twenty-four hours on my hair so, there's that." You shrug.

"WOW. EDDIE NEVER TAKES THAT LONG TO DO HIS HAIR."

"I don't have enough hair to justify taking this long." Eddie says.

"Yeah but lucky for me the day-to-day styling can be pretty minimal it's just upkeep days like this that are extensive but they aren't super frequent. At most few times a month depending on the style I have in and how busy I am. Some styles let me get away with a whole month plus." You tell him turning off the shower and opening the door. You dry off your body and wrap the t-shirt around your hair.

"YOU USE A T-SHIRT FOR YOUR HAIR AND NOT A TOWEL?" Venom tilts his head curiously at you.

"Yeah- towel fabrics can be pretty harsh on my hair so I use a t-shirt instead because, like I said earlier, it's very temperamental." You tell him going back to your bedroom once you're not trailing water. Eddie takes a seat at your desk.

"NOW WHAT?" Venom asks while you put on lotion.

"Now, I get dressed, dry my hair with this t-shirt, enough that it won't soak through my hair cover, and then have a snack before going to bed. Since I ate dinner with you guys." You tell him.

"OH. YOUR HAIR REALLY DOES TAKE A WHILE." Venom hums.

"Yeah I told you, but I'm mostly done for the night besides drying it so if you wanna head out now you can." You say with a shrug as you put on some pajamas.

"Curiosty satisfied Venom?" Eddie asks.

"WE WILL BE BACK TOMORROW." Venom announces.

"Venom I don't just sit around all day you know we might have something to do-"

"You don't have to be with me the whole day babe, it's a fairly repretative process so you can swing by for like twenty minutes just so Venom can see how it works and then you can have the rest of your day back." You say kissing Eddie lightly.

"Fine when's a good time?"

"I'll be at it most of the afternoon so, if you come before five I'll for sure have some left to show Venom." You say.

"Sounds good, I'll text you."

"Sure thing."

"Have a good night sweetheart." He says to you. "Alright Venom, since you got us here. Take us home." Eddie tells Venom.

"CAN DO!" Venom takes over from Eddie again and pulls you into a tight hug. "I AM VERY EXCITED TO SEE YOU TOMORROW LITTLE DROP!" He tells you.

"See you tomorrow my loves." You say once Venom puts you back down. He's down the hall and out your window living room very quickly and you shut the window behind them going back to your room to finish drying your hair. Even with as long as he's been here, Venom's curiosity seems to be neverending, but you'll never complain about the way he seems so interested in every single thing you do. Even something as monotonous and time consuming as doing your hair.

***

#marvel fanfiction #marvel #eddie brock x reader x venom #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock #venom x reader #venom fanfiction #venom #eddie brock x black reader #venom x black reader #eddie brock fanfic #venom fluff #Eddie Brock fluff

[chaotic-kitty]

Oh my goodness I loved your domestic hcs for Asra! If you want, could you please do one for Julian??

Awwww thanks! I’m glad you liked it. And yes, I would love to do one for Julian. I had so much fun doing this. Thank you!! I hope it’s what you wanted and sorry for any mistakes.💕

Little side note: I am still working on requests for fictif characters, but I just needed a lil break from writing about them for now. But they will be out!💕

Asra’s Version | Muriel’s Version

The Arcana Julian Domestic Headcanons!

Warnings: Mentions of trauma/ depression and depressive behaviours.

How do they sleep? Do they snore? Steal blankets? Ect.

This adorable, lanky man, doesn’t properly fit on beds half the time. His long legs usually end up lightly dangling off the edge of the bed. When he’s actually sleeping however, he tosses and turns a lot (more often than not it’s because he’s extremely stressed and has consumed enough coffee to feed a small army. This can also feed into getting nightmares.) which ends up with him stretched across the whole bed, long limbs going every which way. He also steals the blankets a lot. He’s naturally got a cooler body temperature so he often needs to get warm. But he also just gets wrapped up in the blankets because of all the tossing and turning and becomes a Julian burrito. Pillows will end up all over the floor too.

If he sleeps with you however, he’s more cautious of how he sleeps. Will get you to either, sleep on his chest or be tucked into his side, in an attempt to literally weigh him down so he doesn’t move. Though when you’re sleeping together, it makes him calm and less likely to be having a restless night. He also just loves cuddling you and will seek out your warmth. Still manages to not only steal the blanket, but to get caught in it.

Do they prefer baths or showers?

Both.

Julian when he is in a depressive episode, can find it hard to have the energy or even motivation to do much of anything, including hygiene upkeep. So in times like this, he’ll try for a shower because it is quicker and because he fits better in showers than he does baths. That being said, he can also go for a bath depending on how far down the rabbit hole he is. Relaxing in the warm water, in a candlelit room, with sea salts from Nevivon, can lull him into a peaceful state which can help fend off the demons for just a little while.

Are the clean or messy?

Hmmm….More organised chaos.

Everything looks as though it’s been haphazardly thrown around, BUT! He knows where everything is. From where his boots are to where an old receipt from a decade ago is. (Just don’t ask what the receipt is from….)

He does take very good care of his medical notebooks/textbooks, medical equipment, and his leeches. Those things can save lives and need to be kept somewhere nice so they don’t get damaged.

How frequently do they wash their hair? How long does it take?

He washes it every few weeks.

With all the time he spends gallivanting around the place, washing his hair is a task that he’ll somewhat neglect. Especially if he’s already in a depressive state. So a lot of the time his hair is kinda oily. When he does wash his hair, it can take a good while to wash it because he needs to wash it thoroughly. It can also take a little while more because he has to take care of his curls.

What is their love language?

Physical touch and words of affirmation.

Let’s be real! This man is touch starved. He adores physical affection, in all forms, from anybody. When it comes to you though, he’s even more affectionate. He’ll always be cozying up to you. Hugging you, holding your hand, or even wrapping an arm around your waist.

Is very shy about it though, often will not initiate anything in fear of being rejected. Please, show this guy some affection!!!! You’ll be greatly rewarded.

He also THRIVES off of praise. Especially behind closed doors. He’s hard on himself all the time and is convinced the worlds hates him. While he’ll be wary at first, after awhile though he’ll be more open and appreciative of it. It will render him a blushy mess though.

Favourite wind-down activity?

Going to the Rowdy Raven for a pint (or a few) of salty bitters. He enjoys going with you and/or the gang to wind down and let loose. Julian LOVES the general atmosphere of the place. Especially once the music starts! After that, he’ll be dancing on the tables with all of his stress and worries from the day long forgotten.

Who cooks and who cleans?

He can’t cook to save his life. Unless you count burnt food as cooking, which in that case then, he’s a regular Gordon Ramsay.

He has tried many times to cook you a nice meal but, it didn’t go so well. His heart is always in the right place, but him and cooking just don’t work.

So instead, he’ll opt for keeping you company when you cook. Regaling you with tales of his most daring escapades. He can lend a hand when needed. Will do the washing up instead though!

And if none of you can cook? Well, dinner at the Rowdy Raven sounds good!

Main reason for arguments?

The main reason for arguments comes down to trauma and depression. Julian has a long history of unhealed trauma/depression. This is where his self hatred, self isolating, and drinking problems stem from. Even when things are going well in his life, with his friends and family, and other relationships, these behaviours can still unfortunately rear the ugly heads. When he is in this horrible headspace, every demon in his head is screaming at him about telling him he doesn’t matter, and how nobody loves him, ect. This will lead him to push you and everyone else away and to retreat back into his bad habits. Eventually, that behaviour can/will cause arguments. Especially if he turns up on your doorstep drunk outta his mind. Or when it reaches the x amount of times this has happened. Though with time, support, and proper communication, these occurrences will lessen.

Other “arguments” that occur are usually just over tiny little things when he/your tired and is either forgotten about, or resolved quickly.

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana julian #the arcana fanfic #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #fanfic #fanfic writer #nix hyrda

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Am I wrong for thinking Ewan has an oily skin type?

No, it's pretty obvious from most photos that he does - he smokes, consumes far too much caffeine and likely doesn't drink enough water. It's hot though. I love that greasy lil guy.

#asked and answered

[capybara-fanatic]

📁📁📁📁📁📁📁 hello :] you choose who all it's for

Thank you lol i love talking about these lil guys :)

Skrael gets sick if he's in hot weather for too long

Nari is so warm that you DON'T want her near you on a hot day. She just radiates heat.

Bellroc can't swim because they're so big and heavy they just sink lmao

Skrael gets so clumsy when he's really drunk or high and he tells jokes that make no sense and makes it snow inside

Bellroc sunbathes like snakes and your average housecat do

I want to use the rest for my ocs lol

When Allies hair gets oily (and it gets oily Fast), it gets the rainbow sheen water has when someone spills oil

Mammatus is a kindergarten teacher and his husband is a lawyer

[maddilynmuse]

They’re NOT birds

When writing a book, sometimes you have to cut scenes you really like ;w;

Here’s one of them! Ngl it’s basically just showing off a cute creature I made and having characters argue about whether they’re a mammal or a bird. Edited a lil so y’all have a bit of context.

Her name was Asha Mae. She was born, went to Alabon's Adventuring Academy, fell off a waterfall into another world, and now was being led around the edges of the icy shore by a farmer--Charlie, a broad shouldered girl with a slight tan, though still practically milk-colored compared to Asha's rich black--to find the absolute fashion disaster goofball she had ended up living with: Glowworm.

The pair reached a tall metal fence. Children surrounded it, giggling mischievously as they tried to climb over it or squeeze through the tight bars. Yep, Glowworm was definitely here; the kids loved him.

Charlie shook her head and chuckled as she fished out a key from her coat pocket. The gate unlocked with a small click and children crowded against it. “C’mon ya’ll, we gotta catch the boy! And easy on the hens, yeah?” She looked over at Asha, "Ever seen a Wakkla before?"

"No?"

"Welp, prepare to get snuggled."

Onward they went into the pen, Charlie closing the gate behind her. Children rushed in; there was a sound similar to bike horns on helium coming from what looked like a rippling mound of oily iridescence. The kids rushed forward, grinning as they hugged these fat, fluffy, honking things. In turn, the strange mammals waddled towards them on small, clawed feet. Large whiskers protruded from small, blunt noses as they nestled the kids against them, roughly matching the kids in size at three feet tall.

Those of another world may have considered the creatures akin to an otter if it had the upright stature of a penguin, maybe with a bit of walrus around the nose and the teeth of the males, but Asha had no such comparison.

Children giggled as they were welcomed into the hoard with snuffles and nuzzles, unafraid even as the creatures swarmed around them alarmingly fast. Charlie just chuckled and walked into the mass, pulling out a young man with unnaturally bright red hair who had opted to wear a green t-shirt with a faded bear picture on top of a yellow sundress with glittery purple pants underneath--Asha was still trying to figure if there was any rhyme or reason whatsoever in what clothes he slapped on at any given time. 

"Found him," Charlie said.

Glowworm waved. "Hello there dearie! Looking for me?"

"Yeah, Kyra wanted to tell you she had some cake for you," Asha said offhandedly. She was more interested in the creatures! "What'd you say these were? Wok-nahs?"

“Wakklas!” Glowworm chirped. “Also known as precious little fluffy babies! C’mere girls!” He made a crude imitation of their noises, grinning as more come to him.

Charlie rolled her eyes, “Well, he’s right about the wakkla part. This is the hen pen. These little guys are great for eggs and meat. Easy ‘nuff to care for too. They like fish guts, we like the meat, it works out.”

Asha stared at the strange creatures for a while before saying, “That- that’s not a bird.” It had fur! And paws! Not a wing to be seen!

“Lays eggs, don’t it?” Charlie said. “Sounds like a bird to me.”

“No?” Asha said. “And do they? How! That’s not a bird!” What kind of mammal lays eggs?

Glowworm chuckled, “Well, yes! They lay eggs and don’t breathe water, so sounds like a bird to me! Right girls?” He picked one up despite that one in particular being almost four feet tall, giving it little kisses and devolving into incomprehensible baby talk. A child clung to his leg as he set the wakkla down, giving both a pat on the head.

“I refuse to believe that until I see one lay an egg,” Asha said.

“Aye, you’d want the nursery then. I’m not allowed there,” Glowworm said.

“Uh..."

“He ain’t allowed here either, not without one of us, and yet here you are,” Charlie said with a chuckle. “Well, ain't just him. It's supposed to be just us handlers and such, but he keeps sneaking in with the hens here. Anything to say for yourself this time boy?”

“Well, for one, the kyippers wanted to play with them, and two, me breaking into this place is basically tradition at this point,” he said, puffing out his chest out.

“I don’t know how you haven’t broken your neck yet,” Charlie said, shaking her head. “I swear, you’re the only person to hop that fence more than once.”

“And yet I keep getting in,” he said teasingly, poking her nose. Some of the kids laughed and one went “oooooooo!”

Charlie rolled her eyes, pushing him away. “Yeah yeah. I guess you do. Your hens would miss you otherwise. But why do you keep vaulting over it? And how are you not dead?”

Glowworm just shrugged, sticking his tongue out. “A good performer gives away no secrets, m’dear.” Nevermind that he was not actually a performer.

“They. Still. Aren’t. Birds,” Asha said, only half paying attention to everything else. One wakkla came up to her and abruptly let out the loudest, squeakiest honk she’d ever heard. Asha yelped back in shock and fell on her butt. Suddenly they swarmed, trapping her in a pit of fur and squeaks. “Guys!”

Glowworm threw his head back to laugh, being utterly unhelpful Something licked her face. Charlie eventually pulled her up by the armpits, but the wakklas just kept coming, surrounding them and honking.

“Aye, come now! They’re sweethearts! They just think ya look cold, don’t ya girls?” Glowworm said, petting one's head and getting his hand licked for it. “I don’t have any fish bits for you hens, sorry ‘bout that.”

“Glowworm,” Charlie said.

“Yes?”

“Get out of here.”

“Okay, first, can someone show me an actual ‘waka waka’ egg or something? I refuse to believe these things lay eggs,” Asha said.

“It’s wakkla. And I would, but we harvested the cooking eggs, and the cocks will bite your fingers off for those eggs. No,” Charlie said.

"I don't get what's so hard to understand about this?" Glowworm said. "It's a bird! Birds lay eggs!"

"Yeah, but it's not a bird! It's a mammal!"

"Mammals have live birth," Charlie said, "Kinda the definition of them."

"Okay, yes, but birds have feathers."

"I mean, most sure do! But not these guys," Glowworm said.

Asha made a noise of frustration, the kind of frustration you only get when you know you are right but everyone else is too stupid to believe you. "Guys. Please. It's a mammal. It has fur."

"So?"

"So it's a mammal! Not every single thing that lays eggs is a bird!"

"'Course not!" Glowworm said.

"Thank you!”

"Some are fish!"

Asha groaned and rubbed the bridge of her nose, “What about fucking reptiles?”

Both Glowworm and Charlie were just staring at her oddly. The word apparently existed in this language, but they didn’t know what it meant.

“Reptiles! They’re like fish, but, uh, on land?” Oh god how could they be this dumb. Had these people never seen a snake before--oh wait, right, this place was fucking freezing.

“Dearie, you’re just describing a bird,” Glowworm said.

“NO I’M NOT! THEY HAVE FUCKING SCALES! It’s like Siren but only the bottom part!” Siren being a supposed sea monster with the bottom half of a snake and the top half of a woman but with wings instead of arms; Asha had yet to see her.

“Siren has wings! She’s a bird!” Glowworm said. “At least so I’ve heard?”

“Sea monsters are kind of their own things,” Charlie said with a shrug. “Don’t mess with ‘em.”

There was at least solace to be had in the warm, cuddly fur creatures as the circular argument went on and on between them, none losing ground. Unfortunately for all involved, none of them had a word for monotremes.

#fantasy creature #writing #fictional creature #cute #silly #deleted scenes #glowworm #asha #charlie #charlie is mostly a side character but I like her #wakklas #wakkla #wakklas are basically fantasy arctic monotreme chickens #Who look like if you built an otter like a penguin #I love them okay #Self made blorbos #Voidsky #Voidsky Series

[foxilayde]

Because I’m back on my whore shit… top 5 songs that remind you of Santi (🥰angry daddy🥰)?

Those Nathan songs were ✨perfection✨

Santi listens to a lot of what I like to call “Gen-X Republican Dad Rock”

Metallica, Aerosmith, Journey, and yes Nickleback (and probably the fuckign Rascal Flatts too 😭)

Not saying these guys are bad I just… couldn’t put them on a playlist tbh because well I hate it

On the other hand, loves Led Zeppelin with such a ferocity that he’s forgiven for suggesting How You Remind Me as your first dance song.

But here are songs that give me “Santi blasting guitar heavy songs working on your truck in the garage on a summer Saturday” vibes. I can see him tapping his boot from under the truck and air-guitaring with oily hands at his favorite solos. You catch him doing it when you go to bring him lemonade and you don’t tease him or tell him you saw because it’s the purest thing ever.

Mother by Danzig. Idc who you are or what your taste is, this song has been scientifically proven to make you wanna put on leather, ride a motor cycle, take up smoking, and change your name Blayde or something.

Black Diamond by The Replacements

Also Favorite Thing from the same album.

And the whole album in general

Anything, Anything by Dramarama. One hit wonder from the 80s. And what a fucking hit. Put any hardened tortured blorbo next to this song and enjoy.

Do I really need to explain every song? Like does Bang a Gong need an introduction? Do any of these songs need explanations?? Bang a Gong by T Rex.

D’yer mak’er by Led Zeppelin. One of their more chill songs but this one will make him dance a lil bit and it’s so fucking endearing

This is five songs already but im still going, because for Angry Daddy we need some Dion sweet lovin Daddy rollin in your arms.

I’ll end it here with Jimi Hendrix’s cover of Like A Rolling Stone. The wayyyy Santi’s face scrunches up when he bites his lip and air drums and sings “how does it feeeel?”

#you asked for 5 songs and I gave you 7 plus an introductory pamphlet #Santiago Garcia playlist

[with-the-same-tattoos]

Ok defi sharing some hcs bcs i am i am sorey but there is smth so endearing abt imagininv rhis character u grew up being interested in also growing up so

Fuckkebibe. Jeffrey The Killer Grown Up Headcanons Bcs Hes a Grown Man Now And Is Like A Dude Who Lives In Abandoned Places And Is Kinda Fucked But Also Fun 2 Be Around

Like the response to that art post, total Danny Devito voice. Also kinda snotty/gargly, spits a lot, kinda slimy throat, has to clear it a lot. Idk if he smokes or smth, i don't care for the reason, but he simply is the guy to loogie all over the place.

Grew up big. Still kinda gangly but heavy. Always hunched and kinda also bows his legs so he is extra weird looking. Strolls around like an absolute eyesore.

His hair is so greasy. Like so greasy. I think he does it on pupose. Somehow he is just always a little damp and oily. I don't know what he does but his hair is soaked and heavy and it shimmies funnily under his head.

Long hair also!!!!

Also he is balding, esp forehead but the back of his head is thinning a lil also!!!!

Again, i really just visualize him crawling around some decrepit factory. No real reason, just somewhere to hang out. Hes made friends of the pigeons.

Little mayhem man. Loves scaring teenagers. Cackles roughly. Hes just a lil guy and hes having so much fun!!!!

Never wears shoes, however always wears socks, outside, its awful.

Fingerless gloves.

Listens to metal and numetal. Between a metalhead and a mallgoth. Does not care that u call him edgy he simply is that way.

Thaank u i simply HAD 2 share.

#jeff the killer #im so sorry guys #i just wanna hang put w this guy there is sm satisfaction in coming aroumd back 2 ur cringeyrst phase and being like. #i accept u<3