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syddsatyrn · 3 months

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⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter 1

(Click here for Chapter 2)

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.

⛧Words: 3.3k

⛧Summary: As Lucifer's advisor you are required to assist him with a number of things. That includes his schedule, many chores, and the occasional middle of the night panic attack.

⛧Notes: This is my first Hazbin Hotel fic! I hope you all like it because Alastor is my next victim. I just want to give poor Luci some love, he is such a cutie and he's been through enough! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and we love her for that.

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The sun rises and a soft glow illuminates the kitchen. Faint streaks of dawn get brighter as time goes by, the sky is painted with hues of pink and gold. Every day you wake before him and make his coffee. It was a morning ritual you’ve come to enjoy. The silence allowed you time to think and plan your day. As you fill a cup full of coffee, the smell permeates the air.

You carefully take the cup upstairs on a tray and down a long hallway. The air hummed with a faint scent of luxury. It's grandiose and extravagant manor, with gold trim in the hallway. Apples and angelic wings decorate the molding. Your footsteps echo against the marble floors until you stop at the large double doors. You open the right side of the door quietly. The room is dark, some light peeked through the window, but the long velvet curtains block out most of it.

He's so peaceful, lying there, the silk sheets covering his midsection leave little to the imagination. His messy blonde hair and soft face has always made your heart skip a beat. Soft snores escape his lips, you almost feel bad for waking him up while he’s in such a state.

“Your majesty?” You finally speak. The King stirs and covers his face with his hands. He lets out a small groan in response.

*It's time to get up, sir.” You say as Lucifer slowly and reluctantly sits up. You hand him his coffee with a smile, he looks up at you with drowsy eyes.

“Thank you, y/n.” He replied, taking a sip of the warm and bitter drink.

You start to stroll around his room, picking up clothes that have been tossed and putting them in the laundry basket. Lucifer watches as you pick up his messy room, sipping his coffee occasionally.

“You don't have to do all that y’know.” Lucifer says, feeling a little guilty about his disorganization.

“Oh but I do, sir.” You said with a straight face.

“Y/N, I don't know what I would do without you.” He admits with a soft chuckle.

You smile, your face turns a little pink but it's hard to tell with the lights off. You walk over to the curtains and draw them open. Lucifer doesn't look too pleased with how bright it is. You walk over to his wardrobe and shuffle through the many different articles of clothing until you find his white suit with red accents.

“Your daughter called, there are documents you need to look over and you have a meeting this afternoon.” You remind him as you place his clothes on the corner of his large bed.

“Can I just go back to sleep?” Lucifer pleads with you and you let out a small sigh.

“Every day you ask me the same question and every day I tell you the same answer…”

“So that's a no…?” He chuckles softly.

That is correct, your majesty.” You roll your eyes as you leave him to get dressed for the day.

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The relationship between you two has always been a little strange. You were hired many years ago as a maid for his estate. But after a small while grew to be his right hand, now you’re titled as his “advisor”. You take your job very seriously, everyday you make his coffee, bring him his meals, complete household chores, chauffeur him around, you even attend his meetings for him occasionally. Your entire life is devoted to your King, you felt it was a respectable title. You've worked hard to get to this point, and recognize the power that comes with that. After many years of proving yourself, Hell sees you as an extension of the royal family.

Lucifer had quite a soft spot for you, he offered you a room in his home so you can do your job without the bothersome commute. He pays you well and allows you access to many of his personal assets. The free room and board, along with never having to cook for yourself made it all worth it.

After some time you developed some feelings for him, but you would never admit that. You’re not up to that societal standard. You’ve always told yourself he could have anyone he wanted, which is true. The King of Hell was dashing and charming, but also extremely powerful. Despite all that he doesn't seem to fraternize with anyone, ever since Lilith left, it’s like he's lost that part of himself.

It was time for you to get yourself a cup of coffee and bring his breakfast to the dining hall. After finishing your task you sit down at the dining table and enjoy your coffee. Not long after, Lucifer emerges, dressed, but still looking rather fatigued.

“Did you not sleep well, sir?” You ask and bring your cup to your lips.

“No, I was tossing and turning all night.” He grumbles, the dark bags under his eyes are a dead giveaway.

“Hmm…you’ve been doing that quite a bit more often than usual.” You remark.

“I know! What is up with that? It's ridiculous.” The king says with a huff.

“Ridiculous indeed, sir.”

Lucifer called Charlie on his cellphone, and talked about the Hotel she was running. Charlie says he is due for a visit so you make a mental note to schedule that later. Your mind wanders as he talks on the phone while eating various fruits. The last time Lucifer wasn’t sleeping well he was having nightmares. You remember one awful night in particular, you were up late finishing some paperwork for him when suddenly you hear a scream coming from his room. You rush in and he's curled up in a ball, sobbing. You immediately crawl into his bed to comfort him, he laid his head in your lap and you played with his blonde hair until he fell back to sleep.

“Y/N…?” Lucifer says and tilts his head slightly. Looks like he finished his phone call while you were lost in thought. You shake yourself from your memories, a pink tint spreads across your face.

“Yes?”

“Something on your mind, my dear?” He asks with a look of concern on his face.

“No sir, it's nothing.” You assure him. Neither of you have spoken of that night since.

You continue to drink your coffee, Lucifer gives you a skeptical look and continues his breakfast. The day was a very average day. After breakfast Lucifer went to his study to read over some documents and sign a few things. You took his almost empty plate and cup to the kitchen and placed it in the sink for the staff to deal with. You text Charlie with a list of dates to choose from to schedule a visit, reassuring her that you’ll make it happen.

Next is time to clean Lucifer’s room. It's not disgusting by any means, more like cluttered. He tosses stuff on the floor absentmindedly and you always end up tidying the place at some point. Besides, you are the only one allowed in his room, who else is going to do it?

You collect all the empty liquor glasses and place them on a silver tray along with the empty decanter. Making his bed was rather difficult due to it being so large, but you manage like you always do. You tidy up his bathroom, finding more clothes tossed on the floor, you put them in the laundry hamper as well. You leave his room with the silver tray and take it to the kitchen. The staff fill the decanter and give you clean crystal glasses. You return to his room and set the tray on his desk. After that, you take the basket of clothes to the laundry room.

Before you know it, the clock strikes one and you make your way to Lucifer's study. You open the door softly and enter, you set down a small tray with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies on his desk. He picks up the cup and takes a sip, the tea is exactly how he likes it.

“Are you here to tell me I have to attend another one of those annoying meetings?” Lucifer asks in a slightly irritable tone. He spins the chair around to face you, his yellow eyes fixate on yours.

“I’m afraid so, your majesty.” You reply. Lucifer groans and slumps back in his chair. Sometimes he can be a little childish, you cover your mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Y/N, I can’t sit through another one of those meetings. I will literally wilt away into nothing.” Lucifer says, he turns to face you and takes your hand in his. He softly squeezes it, your face turns a little pink as you look down and meet his begging eyes with yours.

“Can you go instead? Pretty please?” You can never resist those eyes and he knows it. Your face softens and you squeeze his hand back.

“Okay, but don't make this a habit.” You say you let go of his hand. Still trying to retain some sort of professionalism.

“Thanks doll, I owe you one.” He says with a warm smile, the same smile that makes your heart skip a beat every single time. You bow and leave him to his work, once you get behind closed doors you let out a long sigh, you truly don't want to attend this meeting either. But it can’t be helped, the show must go on.

You grab your overcoat, cellphone, keys, and meet the driver out front. It didn't take long to arrive at Carmilla’s manor. You have been asked to attend a meeting with the overlords and report back to Lucifer. The guards led you through the manor to a large meeting room, you open the door and it seems everyone is in attendance.

The V’s, Zestial, Alastor, Rosie, Zeezi and Ms Carmilla Carmine herself. You take the empty seat next to Zestial.

“My my, I didn't think Lucifer would send his pet, but Miss Carmine, I thought there was a No Dogs Allowed sign out front?” Alastor immediately starts with the catty behavior. You don't have time for any of this, you need to be home soon to serve supper.

"Your words are like a bad song on repeat. Spare us." You retort with your arms folded. The Radio Demon gives you a sinister stare and you roll your eyes at his half baked attempt at scaring you.

“Please, can we start this stupid meeting? I have somewhere to be.” Velvet says looking at her phone, not paying much attention to anything else. Vox agrees with her and Carmilla begins to speak on various topics.

The meeting felt like it ran longer than expected, it was concerning how we move forward now that exterminations are no longer an issue. They spoke of which towns were hit the hardest by the attack, what kind of ongoing plans they have and how to proceed with caution, for we do not trust the Angels and their hidden intentions. After a while, the conversations started to devolve into personal ones.

“Lucifer will be assisting the Pride Ring as best he can, any requests for aid on his part can go through me for approval. Trust that they will be hand delivered to him in person. The King wants nothing more to provide relief for his people.” Was the last thing you said before getting up and excusing yourself from the meeting, politely.

When you make it back to the car, you let out a sigh of relief. It's finally over, time to head back to the manor. When you returned it was already late into the afternoon. You hang up your coat and head to the kitchen, you pour Lucifer a small glass full of whiskey and ice. Before you put the bottle back in its place you take a quick swig, that meeting was just agonizing. You needed something to take the edge off.

You walk to the study with the glass on a silver tray, as you open the door, she sees Lucifer in his chair, reading.

“Good afternoon, your majesty.” You greet him with a smile and a short bow.

“Ah good, you’re back. How was the meeting?” He asks, genuinely curious.

“It was…interesting, to say the least.” You reply while handing him the glass. “I can see why you did not want to attend.”

“They are so insufferable, right?” He says and takes a sip.

“Indeed, sir.” You don't wish to mention Alastor’s comment from earlier, the last thing you need to do is give him something to be cross about.

“Dinner will be ready soon. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” You ask politely.

“Oh no, you always do so much. Thank you Y/N.” Lucifer takes another sip of his whiskey.

You dismiss yourself and head down to the kitchen to help prepare dinner for yourself and Lucifer.

Lucifer spins around in his chair and takes a sip of the drink you left him with. He’s trying to hide it but he’s absolutely exhausted. Lately when he’s tried to sleep, memories flood his mind like ghosts of the past. The absence of warmth beside him was a void he could not fill. When he will be free from the torment, he is unsure. But every day he wakes up and there you are, right beside him as always. He knows you try to put off a cold exterior, you’re the king's guard dog after all. You were always one to never indulge your secrets but he knew a few things about you that no one else did.

The night you held him in your lap it looked as though he had fallen asleep. While you carded your fingers through his hair you whispered “I wish you knew how remarkable I think you are.” He heard you loud and clear. The King always had a space in his heart dedicated to you, but you’re his advisor, consultant, and au pair. How would the world see you both as a couple? It was certainly something that would be looked down upon by most. A bell rings and pulls him from his thoughts, dinner is ready.

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He sits in his usual spot and you always sit on his right side. Dinner was a mix of high grade meats and vegetables. You cut into your food and display proper table manners, Lucifer sneaks glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

“I scheduled a time for you to visit your daughter's hotel this Thursday.” You remark and Lucifer nods with food in his mouth.

“Good, I’ve been meaning to visit, I’ve just been so tired lately, and If I’m not tired I’m busy.”

“You need some proper rest, sir.” You state the obvious. You wish there was something else you could do to assist him with this.

“Trust me, if I had the choice I’d be asleep right now, my dear.” He takes another bite, his face looks a little forlorn. Usually you would keep to yourself unless Lucifer would outright say something is wrong, but this is different.

“Is there something wrong, sir?”

“No, it's nothing, Y/N. I’m just tired, I swear.” He says, trying to brush off any depressive feelings. You give him a bit of side eye but decide to let it go. But deep down you knew something was troubling him. It was just a matter of if and when he will tell you. You both continue eating, he tells you about the book he's reading in hopes to clear the melancholy vibe in the room. You sit and listen to him ramble on like any other normal day.

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It was getting late, Lucifer was in his room, drink in hand. Outside, the world slumbered beneath a blanket of stars, oblivious to his pain. With the window open he seeks solace in the cold night air. But the chill only served to remind him of the emptiness inside. He downs the rest of his drinks and sets it on the nightstand. He crawls under the covers and closes his eyes and wraps his arms around himself as he tries to get some rest.

But all he could see is her, walking away, leaving him heartbroken and devastated. A single tear falls down his cheek. He buries his face in the pillow and tries to forget these memories, good and bad. The minutes pass like fleeting shadows, and Lucifer finally starts to fall asleep. But not long after he wakes up in a cold sweat with a scream. His chest heaves and he feels like he can’t breathe, he looks down at his shaking hands.

You were doing your rounds in your silk pajamas, locking doors and shutting windows. You said goodnight to the kitchen staff and headed upstairs. Then suddenly you hear a loud scream come from Lucifer's bedroom, you immediately rush up the stairs to the door and open it.

He’s sitting upright in his bed, knees against his chest, holding his face in his hands. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he recalls the haunting memories. You don't say anything, you quickly sit beside him and place your hand on his back. He immediately pulls you in for a hug, you’re surprised at first but you hug him back. He buries his face in your shoulder, letting out soft muffled sobs.

“Shhhh…it's going to be okay…I’m here…I’ve got you.” You whisper soft words of reassurance in his ear, he just hugs you tighter.

“I’m so sorry…” He says between sniffles and you start to gently rub his back. You wished there was a way to stop him from feeling so miserable, but all you can do is sit and comfort him for as long as he needs. In the safety of your arms, the remnants of the dream began to dissipate. Your familiar voice and smell provided a soothing counterpoint to the chaos of his mind.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear.” You say as you pet the back of his head, his face finally emerges from your shoulder and meets your gaze. You gently wipe away any stray tears with your thumb and give him a soft smile. “Tough times don’t last, tough people do, and you’re one of the strongest people I know.” You say just barely above a whisper.

A small smile appears on his face and you brush away a few stray hairs, glad that your king is feeling a little better. “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel more at ease?”

“I do have one request…But I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it.” He says, while looking away, he’s definitely embarrassed by his own question.

“Try me.” You reply, it can’t be that bad, he’s never asked you to do anything you’re not okay with.

“I would really appreciate it if I didn't have to sleep alone tonight…” He finally asks, he blushes a little, unsure if that's even okay to ask. You can't help but also turn a little red, this is absolutely not allowed, but maybe the rules have exceptions in times of crisis.

“Yeah…I can do that.” You agree.

Lucifer’s golden eyes widen and he perks up a bit. “R-Really?”

“Yes, really.” You chuckle softly.

Lucifer crawls back under the covers and opens his arms for you to join him. You crawl over to him and settle in, his arms wrap around you and you lace your fingers with his hand, allowing him to spoon you. His body heat and the chill night air was the perfect combination to lull you to sleep.

“Goodnight Luci~” You say before sleep starts to drag you away from this world. A nickname you lovingly use very rarely. He nuzzles your shoulder and drifts off rather quickly with nothing but a content smile on his face. When you two will admit your feelings for each other is a mystery, but for now, you’re happy just to be his biggest support system. If there's one thing you’ve learned living with Lucifer, it's that devotion in any form, is love with wings.

#lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x you #lucifer x reader #Lucifer Morningstar x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin spoilers #hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor

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hiraya-rawr · 1 year

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maybe we can be more than this (servant/master)

characters !! diluc, ayato

contains !! just dialogues of gn reader. angst/comfort?? i think

synopsis !! thinking about servant and master where it's so obvious you're both in love but you can't bring yourself to cross the line and it hurts him sm—

+ + +

D I L U C

He's frustrated, pacing around as you desperately try to explain.

"Master Diluc, you must understand why–"

"Just Diluc."

"But Master Diluc–"

"How many times must I tell you, (Name)?" He turns towards you, a scowl on his lips as his voice rises. He breathes heavily before his shoulders lower, relaxing, and his face changes to that of hurt.

A quiet heartache.

"How many times must I hear you call me that? We've been friends for so long. I've loved you for so long. Can't I be more than just that to you. . .?" He looks down on the ground, unable to meet your gaze.

You feel your lips part, heart aching. How could you dare?

". . . Diluc," You whisper and his eyes snap towards you, hopeful, as your hand makes its way to cup his cheek, "You are already more than just that to me."

"Then allow me to be with you." He begs quietly.

"You know why I can't." You sob, feeling his own warm hands cupping your cheeks.

"Please, (Name)."

"Don't."

"Please,"

". . . I have to go help Adelinde turn off the gas lamps. Please get some rest, Master Diluc."

+ + +

A Y A T O

"Look at this, (Name)," He states harshly, stomping into his office as you trail behind, helplessly explaining, "Look."

Ayato roughly gestures to the pile of papers on his desk. Each in beautiful stationery, stamped cleanly.

"Marriage proposals. Each and everyone of them, I've rejected. I did this for us." He turns to you, a look of hurt in his eyes.

"Lord Kamisato, you know why–"

"You didn't use to call me that. I was Ayato. I was-"

"-That was when the Kamisato household was falling apart! It's different now and you know that-!" You cut in.

"It is different! Now the Kamisato household has the power and influence. If you marry me, I will take down every obstacle in our way."

Silence. He stares at you from across the dark office, only moonlight filtering in to highlight his baby blue hair. You know he's desperate, having danced around the topic for ages, but how could you be the clan's weakness? You can see how everyone would talk— how history would talk about it.

'Such a fine bachelor yet he chose a mere servant. Is there something wrong with the clan?'

'He was seduced. Held down by a childhood friend. You can't even trust a servant.'

'The clan had only recently gained its influence, yet it's falling apart again, all because of some—'

"Ayato," You try to hold back tears. You know it's unfair to him if you use this card. "If you love me, then please— don't make me do this to the clan. Don't make me do this to you."

He looks defeated. Shoulders slumped, tired, as he brings up a hand to rest on his forehead. Looking away from you, he sighs, "Had I known it would be like this, I never would have taken you in as my servant."

character m.list || ko-fi

note !! nothing hits differently than men with everything except the love of their life *shrugs* anyway my links have been weird lately idk why so hopefully this story posts without issues

#genshin #favoniuslibrary #diluc x reader #ayato x reader #diluc #ayato #genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr #kamisato ayato #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin fic #diluc angst #ayato angst #genshin fanfic

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thecuriousquest · 5 months

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Don’t Close Your Eyes

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @palesweetscherryblossom @chickennugnugnug @murderofravens

Warnings: Platonic yandere themes, hurt/comfort, vomiting, painful migraines, Gojo is kind of a bad dad, Gojo obsesses over his daughter’s beauty

Summary: Your father, Satoru Gojo, gives you everything you want. What will happen when something you want breaks one of his very few rules? (Featuring Uncle Nanami)

Master List

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You love your father with all of your heart, but it’s really hard to be his daughter sometimes. He spoils you rotten. You want ice cream or mochi for breakfast? Cookies for dinner? You got it. The most expensive sushi for lunch? Say no more. You want that really expensive necklace and designer outfit? Done.

He wraps you up in the thickest of blankets and carries you through life. If he had things his way, he’d make sure you didn’t even have to put a toe on the ground. You’ve never been confronted with any real world issues thanks to your doting pops, but you feel as though you’re living inside of a shell.

However, having inherited the Six Eyes from him, you suffer not only from an overprotective father, you also suffer from violent migraines due to oversensitivity and overstimulation of the senses. You’re extremely light sensitive. Even the dullest fraction of light can trigger a headache.

This being said, your daddy doesn’t allow you to cover your eyes…ever. He says, “They’re too beautiful to cover up” or “Why would you even think about hiding something I gave you?” You can’t even convince him to buy you those really dark sunglasses where no light can pass through.

You often find yourself trying to cut up towels for makeshift blindfolds just so you can get some sleep, but you’re only lightly scolded by your father and told not to “play with scissors” despite being fourteen years old.

———

Satoru comes home from a mission, greeting Nanami as he asked the blonde sorcerer to keep an eye on you while he was gone.

“How was she? Who am I kidding? She was perfect, wasn’t she?”

“No, she was not. She was crass and rude because she was in pain the entire time. She cursed me out more times than I care to tell, and she barely ate, and what she did eat, she threw up. Gojo, you have to do something about her migraines because whenever I come over to watch her, I end up getting them as well.”

The lanky man’s jaw hangs wide open as he listens to Nanami’s speech. After a minute of processing, he drops the bag of souvenirs on a nearby table and huffs a fatherly sigh.

“Are you sure it’s her? I mean, you could just be incapable of looking after her.”

“It’s not her, Gojo. It’s you,” Nanami states as he picks up his bag. “I’m leaving now. She’s upstairs in her room crying her eyes out because you refuse to do anything about her oversensitivity.”

With that said, Kento brushes past Satoru and leaves the Gojo household.

Satoru trails up the stairs, bag in hand, and knocks on the door twice. When he receives no response, only hearing you choking on sobs, he opens the door to see you shaking under the covers. He strides over to you, pulling the blanket back so that he can see you holding your head with your eyes squeezed shut. Placing the bag on the floor, your dad takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Hey, there’s my pretty girl. Uncle Nanami told me you were having a bad day. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Hurts!” Is all you can bite out with the amount of pain you’re in. You curse yourself for even speaking because your skull is pounding from all of the noise. “Please, Daddy, make it stop!”

He shushes you, pulling you up towards his chest so that you can cry into his shoulder.

“We could try a sedative?”

“Those don’t fucking work! You can’t do anything right! God, you’re fucking useless!” You grip his shirt and blow tears and snot into it as you wail at him in a fit of pain and teenage rage.

Gojo, being used to the cursing, only rolls his eyes. He can’t scold you right now. It wouldn’t help anyway. You wouldn’t even be able to focus on a lecture at the moment. Instead, he holds you closer and presses a kiss against your hair.

“Daddy, please…covering my eyes…it’s the only thing that works.” You flinch when the migraine feels like a brick has been smashed against the back of your head.

“You know the rules. I want to be able to see your gorgeous face every day. You’re my sunshine, sweetie. Your eyes are so beautiful.”

“Fuck you! Uncle Nanami lets me cover my eyes!”

“Well, then, Uncle Nanami isn’t going to be able to watch you anymore.”

You shake your head slightly, desperately. “I…No, you can’t do that. Daddy, please, I want to see Uncle Nanami!”

Gojo lowers his glasses and looks at you. “I’m your father, so I can do whatever I want. These headaches are just a phase. You’ll grow out of them. You don’t need to cover your eyes. I never wore them as a child. You didn’t have these migraines as a little kid, so you’ll probably get over them at some point. You just need to-”

The storm in your head causes violent waves to crash against your skull, rattling the ship that is your brain. Blood rages in your ears, and you can only hear your father’s voice in a low hum before succumbing to nausea for the fourth time today.

Throwing your blanket off of you and reaching for the trashcan that’s right by your bed, you hurl into the black plastic bin that’s almost half full of your bile and stomach contents. Gojo looks into it and can clearly see that Nanami had made you fish for dinner.

Your father does his best to try and comfort you, rubbing your back as you vomit water and whatever else your stomach can wretch. Coughing signals an end to your regurgitation, and you put the trash bin down on the floor in front of you.

Calmly now, with no heat or bite behind your words, you look away from your father and ask, “Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

You hate to ask him for this after being so angry with him, but a comforting presence next to you can sometimes help with your migraine induced insomnia. It can sometimes even dull the headaches to a certain extent.

“Of course. Anything for my little girl.”

Lying down, you rub your temples as Satoru trails the tips of his fingernails up and down your back. Being emotionally drained and physically exhausted, as well as having your father sit right beside you, it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

As Gojo watches his precious angel close her eyes, he runs his fingers through your hair and smiles. You’re finally asleep and looking peaceful. If you had eye coverings on, he wouldn’t be able to see the whites of your lashes curving as you enter a dream.

He knows in his heart that he’s doing the right thing.

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hairmetal666 · 1 year

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Eddie's hanging out with Steve at Family Video when Robin stomps in like a whirlwind.

"Oh, god, I did something so dumb. You have to help meee."

They straighten from where they lean over the counter towards each other, and Eddie takes a big step back, sure that all his big gay feelings for Steve are on display.

"What did you do this time?" Steve smiles with exasperated fondness.

"It's so bad." Robin faceplants with a dramatic wail.

"What happened?" Eddie asks

"I--I'm so sorry!" She looks at both of them, and a tingle of panic works it's way up Eddie's spine.

"My parents started going on and on about me and Steve and why we won't just admit we're dating, and I started to freak out because they won't accept that we're just friends, and I'm not ready to tell them that I'm a lesbian, even though I think it would be okay, so, I told them you were dating someone, Steve."

"Well, that's not so bad, Rob. So, what, they think I have a girlfriend? Who cares."

Her shoulders slump and she frowns. "I wish that's what they thought. They kept asking who, and I panicked!"

"Robin." Steve looks alarmed now, his pretty mouth pulled into a grimace. "What did you tell them?"

"Okay, please don't hate me," she begs. She's looking at Steve, but then she's looking over at Eddie. And oh, god, oh fuck, this can't be happening.

"You've got to be kidding me, Buckley," he says. He keeps his voice light but the touch of panic has become a punch.

"Wait. How do you know--how does he--? Who am I dating?"

"Me, Harrington. She told them you were dating me."

"Oh," Steve shrugs. "Sure."

Eddie chokes on air, plays it off. "For you maybe, Stevie. We in the Munson household have standards."

Steve doesn't meet a beat. "I'll have you know, Edward, that I am a catch."

"Yeah, for the lovely ladies of Hawkins," Eddie winks, even though every word, every gesture aches.

"Oh, c'mon! I'm a great boyfriend. Defend me here, Robin"

Normally, Eddie finds these antics to be charming, but confronting his crush on Steve so forcefully has ruined his mood.

"Need a cigarette," he says to escape.

He's only alone for a few minutes before Steve is sidling up next to him.

"What's she need us to do?"

"Dinner."

He grimaces, exhaling a plume of smoke. "I'm so bad at meeting the parents."

"Shut-up." Steve pokes him in the chest. "Everyone loves you. It's kind of obnoxious, actually. Plus, I think this'll help her feel more comfortable about coming out."

He snorts if only so he doesn't have to think about Steve talking about him and love in the same sentence.

"Fine. For Buck, I'll do it." But he doesn't know how he'll get through pretending to date his biggest crush with out spontaneously combusting.

"Love the enthusiasm," Steve laughs. "You know I'd treat you right, Munson."

The blush that rolls over his face is crimson. "Alright, big boy, calm down. We're not actually dating."

The bark of laughter Steve lets out is a burst of pure adrenaline to Eddie's heart. This is going to be a disaster.

---

The night of the dinner arrives and Eddie almost blows the whole game when they walk in the Buckley front door and Steve's arm wraps around his waist. The night is all casually intimate touches and Steve leaning into his personal space; calling him "baby" in a soft, warm voice; eyes drifting to Eddie's lips as they flirt and banter.

It's almost like they're a couple; almost like Steve could love him.All of his senses are overwhelmed with Steve Harrington and it fucking hurts. But Eddie lets himself indulge, finally running his fingers through Steve's gorgeous hair, tracing the moles on his face and neck, outlining the sharpness of his perfect jaw, calling him "sweetheart" with heartbreaking fondness.

It's intoxicating.

They're helping Mrs. Buckley with the dishes when it happens. When Steve leans over and casually presses his lips to Eddie's, tasting like vanilla ice cream and spiced apples and something indefinably warm. Eddie is helpless not to crumple, leans into Steve, wraps fists into the perfectly fitted polo, drawing them closer.

The night ends and Eddie thinks he's finally free, except the Buckleys love them. Keep inviting them back.

He goes for Robin, he tells himself, but he knows that it's for the hope of it. Knows that he's a ship breaking himself against the rock that is Steve Harrington, and god help him, he can't stop.

---

Of course, of course, the wires get crossed. The kids have a pool party, leave Steve and Eddie to ice cream clean-up duty. Of course, he can't stop himself from smearing some melted mint chip down Steve's face, and Steve retaliates with chocolate sauce.

They giggle and flight and make mess until Steve's eyes are bright, cheeks red, and Eddie can't look away. He clocks Steve's eyes drifting to his mouth, is helpless as the distance between them closes, as Steve captures his lips.

It's not the brief, chaste things from the Buckley's; it's hot, all tongues and teeth and desire, and it's not fucking real.

Eddie lurches back, making Steve stumble. "Stop," he snarls.

"Eddie--" Steve's eyes are wide.

He's panting, can't catch his breath. "You can't just fucking kiss me like that when it doesn't mean anything to you."

"Please," Steve begs. "Let me explain."

"Save it. We're done with this. Robin is good now. And I'm out."

He turns away, heads towards the front door, but Steve pulls him back.

"Let me explain. Please. Please, Eddie. I didn't mean--"

And it's too much. Steve's plaintive voice, his big eyes wet with tears.

"Of course you didn't mean it," he spits. "It's nothing to you, pretending to date me. Touching me. Kissing me. Acting like you love me. It doesn't matter to the Heartthrob of Hawkins. But have you or Buckley ever taken the time to think that it's everything to me?" Hot tears spill down his cheeks and he can't even be embarrassed because all of this has been so humiliating.

Steve gapes at him, face slack and stunned. "Eddie, I--I'm so--"

"Don't. See you around, Harrington," he says. Then he runs.

---

He doesn't leave the trailer for a week. Refuses to pick up the phone.

It's Saturday, early evening. Wayne just left for his shift when there's a knock on the door.

Eddie is content to ignore it, to wrap himself in a quilt on the couch, but the knocking doesn't stop.

"Eddie, I know you're in there. Your van is here. The lights are on. I can hear you," Steve calls.

Longing clenches at his heart, but he's not in the mood for the gentle let down.

"Go away, Harrington." He starts towards his bedroom, thinking maybe he can lock Steve out.

"Please, Eddie."

"I don't need anything from you, Harrington."

It's silent for long enough that Eddie thinks it works. And then, " I have so many things I should tell you, Eds. If you still hate me at the end, I'll go. I'll never bother you again. But please, please listen."

Resigned to having a conversation he never wanted, Eddie opens the door. "Okay, Harrington."

Steve steps inside, twisting his hands for a few seconds before blurting out, "I've had a crush on you for months."

The confession briefly steals Eddie's breath from his lungs before he scoffs, "and you never said anything? C'mon, Harrington, when have you ever hesitated to ask someone out?"

Steve blinks a few times, before he answers. "I've been terrified to say anything because I didn't want to lose my best friend."

"And what, Robin asks us to pretend to date and you think that's the perfect time to make your move?" Eddie grips at his hair, pulling it in front of his face.

"Yeah, a little bit!" Steve raises his voice. "I tried but I was terrified you only wanted me as a friend."

"You know I'm gay, Harrington!"

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Of course I wanted you!" Eddie's yelling now, has closed the distance between them so they're almost nose-to-nose.

"I didn't know! How could I? You could've said something!"

"I thought you were straight! Fucking look at you! You've slept with 75% of the available girls at Hawkins High!"

"Who cares about them, Eddie? I want you!"

"Funny way of showing it, Harrington."

"What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? Cause I am."

"Is that why you kissed me at your house? Making your move?"

"It wasn't supposed to be. I got--" Steve's throat bobs as he swallows. "Caught up in the moment. I know I shouldn't have kissed you like that. I know."

"Then why did you?" Eddie's voice breaks. "Why then? Why not any of the other nights we spent together?"

"Because that's when I realized that I'm fucking in love with you!" Steve shouts.

They're both breathing hard by the end, Steve's eyes too bright, face too flushed. They stare at each other, unmoving, Steve's confession ringing in his ears.

"You done?" Eddie's voice waivers, his heart pounding, stuttering, flipping in his chest.

Steve nods, but Eddie doesn't give him a chance to move. He brings their mouths crashing together, Steve not even hesitating to slip his tongue between Eddie's lips. They kiss hard enough that they draw blood, but that just makes it more frenzied. Eddie grips Steve's hip, presses him against the trailer door, grinding against him with abandon.

Eddie breaks the kiss to finally pay some attention to the delightful moles on Steve's neck, working his way up to his jaw. "I'm going to have so much fun taking you apart, sweetheart," he whispers, mouth pressed to Steve's ear, delighting in the way he shivers at the words.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #one shot #fake dating #mutual pining #angst #friends to lovers #unrequited love that's totally requited #robin buckley #platonic stobin #eddie munson's big gay feelings for steve harrington #they're in love your honor #they're just bad at the talking part

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zepskies · 5 months

Text

Smoke Eater - Part 15

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

AN: Thank you as always for the lovely responses on the previous chapter! It was a long one, so thank you for sticking through with me. We're about to lighten up a little with some Christmas spirit! ❄️🎁

**Also, if you're a fan of The Boys (and Soldier Boy), there's an awesome book you can check out, called Supes Ain’t Always Heroes: Inside the Complex Characters and Twisted Psychology of The Boys.

If you want to learn more about the book (including cast interviews and a character study on Soldier Boy), I wrote a review about it here!

Otherwise, on to some more firefighter!Dean!

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, tinge of angst, hurt/comfort, lots of feels.

Part 15: “The Good Part”

“How many damn arrests does that make?” Daniel asked. He gripped his pool cue with both hands while he leaned on it.

His son stood at the other end of the pool table, lining up his shot. He paused to think.

“Six,” Nick replied. His cue released, and it knocked two of his balls into the pocket.

“Six,” Daniel repeated, while Nick came his way to find an angle for his next turn.

Daniel shook his head. His lips were angrily pursed. His eyes might’ve been on the pool game, but he was playing chess in his mind. He had underestimated John Winchester for far too long, it seemed.

The man was stubborn as all hell. And he’d been busy lately, getting “Azazel’s” men busted for all manners of bullshit.

“Alastair’s mole says Winchester’s been calling in favors from his old friends in Narcotics, trying to bust our small fries,” Nick reported. “Getting them on everything from petty theft to drug possession, with intent to sell. But it’s nothing we can’t pull ‘em out of.”

“Time, money, added risk,” Daniel cited on his fingers all the reasons why John Winchester was a pain in his ass. “It’s only a matter of time before they get a warrant to rip apart Savage & Co., sweep the whole damn building. For forensic evidence, our files, all the jazz.”

Daniel’s fingers drummed thoughtfully against his chin. “A damn cop thinks he’s being cute.”

Nick missed his second turn. His hand fell against his thigh in annoyance, but he looked up.

“Dad, it’s your move.”

Daniel rubbed at his chin. His eyes were no longer seeing the board in front of him. Eventually, they slid up and met his son’s gaze.

“We’re going to start from the beginning,” he said.

Nick’s face gave away his confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

Daniel just smiled.

It was Christmas Day, and John was late. Sam and Dean were used to that drill, so they weren’t expecting him until dinnertime.

Meanwhile, it gave you a chance to find your footing as you got to know Eileen. She had helped you bake the pies that were now cooling on the counter (pumpkin and berry crumble), and a few of the side dishes for dinner. Sam had covered cleaning up the rest of the house, while Dean tackled his favorites: the ham and the mac and cheese.

Now the guys were in the living room watching football while you and Eileen were still in the kitchen, decorating some gingerbread cookies you two had made. She enjoyed it; doing holiday crafts with her students had been bringing out her artistic side, she told you. You were happy for the help and the conversation.

You later tried to cover up your snort of laughter as she finished telling you the story of how Dean once dared Sam to wear women’s underwear for a whole week.

If he managed it, Dean had promised to do all the household chores for three months. If Sam couldn’t make it the whole week, then he would face the consequences: Dean would tell their dad about the bet.

“How old were they?” you asked.

Eileen scoffed. “Sam was a senior in college.”

You burst out laughing again. “So too old, is the answer… Did he win?”

Eileen gave you a mischievous smile.

“He did,” Dean said, as he appeared in the kitchen doorway with a familiar smirk. “I’ve got photographic evidence. It was a cheetah print thong, in case you were wondering.”

Your eyes widened on a laugh. “Oh my God.”

Cheetahlicious, you couldn’t help joking in your mind. Even if you’d rather not think of Sam wearing a pair of Victoria Secret’s best.

Eileen giggled with you. Dean’s amusement gave way to curiosity as he eyed the little gingerbread men you two were icing. You warned him off with your eyes, but it took Eileen batting his hand when he tried to steal a cookie.

“Hey! Wait ‘til after dinner,” she said.

Dean pouted. “Come on, don’t be stingy.”

Rolling her eyes, Eileen sighed.

“You’re like one of my kids,” she said, while signing with her hands. But she caved and handed him a cookie. “Here. To tide you over.”

Dean smiled and signed back to her in ASL, Thank you.

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” he said. He leaned down to kiss her cheek in a brotherly gesture.

He shot you a wink before taking a bite of his prize. You shook your head at him, even though you were smiling. He came around to your side of the table. His hand rested on your back and he bent down towards your ear.

“I actually came over for you,” he said. “Got a minute?”

Your brows rose, but you turned to Eileen in askance. “I’ll be right back. Is that okay?”

She nodded and made an “OK” gesture. “Of course.”

You smiled and let Dean lead you out of your chair, and even out of the apartment. He made sure you both grabbed your coats by the front door.

“Where are we going?” you asked. While you put on your coat over your sweater and jeans, you didn’t notice him grabbing two sets of keys.

“Just downstairs. No big deal,” he said, hefting on his own leather jacket.

You eyed him with some suspicion, but you walked with him down to the elevators and let him keep you close to his side. He smelled like the cologne you bought him for Christmas, and he was already wearing the new watch as well.

You’d struggled to find him the right gift. Nothing felt quite enough after everything he’d done for you the last few months. He’d assured you that he was grateful for both gifts, and had even tried to say the watch looked too expensive. (You’d shut him up with a kiss.)

Now, you had to wonder what he was up to as he led you into the parking lot, but not toward Baby. Instead, you two stopped in front of a shiny silver Chevy parked in a guest spot.

“Dean, what’d you do?” you asked, both excited and worried. He shot you a grin and dangled the keys in front of you.

“You like her?” he asked. His eyes were dancing. “You could keep her, if you ask nicely.”

Your face slackened. You looked between him and the sleek looking car.

“What?” You covered your mouth with both hands. Even after a few moments, your brain was still having a hard time computing. “No…what? Oh my God!”

You grabbed onto his jacket, just in case your legs failed you. Dean laughed and gathered you up in his arms. By the time you peeled your eyes away from the silver beauty to look up at your boyfriend, there were tears already swimming in your eyes.

“Dean, this is really too much. Where’d you find—”

“Bobby had it sitting in his garage for years,” he explained. His hand came up to brush your cheek, and the tears there. “I cleaned her up, dropped in a new engine, safe-proofed with new tires, new airbags, the works. Got her purring like a kitten.”

Your eyes grew a little wider with every admission. Then you softened, gripping the edges of his jacket while you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling.

“How much did he sell it to you for?” you asked. Dean dropped his head back with a sigh.

“Don’t you wanna take a test ride before we start hagglin’?”

You lightly smacked his chest. “Hey. How much?”

He let out another heavy sigh, but you eventually got it out of him. While the price wasn’t as bad as you might’ve expected, you still shook your head.

“I still have a decent chunk of insurance money left. I’m giving you at least half,” you said.

Dean shook his head. “This is my gift to you.”

Your lips pursed, despite the smile that wanted to peek through.

“Nice try,” you said wryly. “You already got me perfume.”

“That was just the decoy.” He grinned, and held you a bit tighter against him. He nodded towards the car. “She’s the main event.”

You wanted to sigh, but this conversation wasn’t over. You were definitely not letting him buy you a whole new…old car. You turned to look at it again.

“What model is this?” you asked.

“2002 Camaro Z28,” Dean rattled off. It sounded impressive, but you didn’t know much about cars.

He let go of you so you could get a closer look. Your hand passed over the hood, but didn’t touch, as if you were afraid of staining the paint with your fingerprints. He had to admit, he’d waxed it up good and managed to get rid of a lot of superficial nicks and scratches.

What he said was true though; Bobby had given him a frankly ridiculous deal. Because when Dean had told him what you’d been through after the car accident, dealing with your grandfather’s passing, and now your ever-mounting expenses, Bobby hadn’t let him walk away from Singer Salvage with anything else but this car. He’d even helped Dean get the new parts he needed to fix it up.

“Is it automatic or manual?” you asked, trying to peer through the driver’s window. “I haven’t driven stick in a hell of a long time.”

Dean came up from behind you and his warm hand found your hip. You let him draw you back into his arms, leaning against his chest.

His lips were close to your ear when he said, “I think you’re damn good at driving stick.”

It took you a second, but the heavily laden innuendo in his deep voice was hard to miss. You uttered a laugh and swatted his arm.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said. You were still smiling when you turned and twined your arms around his neck. Then you leaned up for a kiss—one that kept getting deeper with the full force of your gratefulness, and your love for this man.

“It’s an automatic,” he answered, between kisses. You giggled against his lips.

You barely felt the chill on the air. Your heart was beating fast, even when you pulled away from him. Your eyes slowly opened and met his. He smiled down at you and curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. As usual, you had most of it clipped up.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was quiet, but steady.

You let out a shaky breath. Emotion was clogging your throat, making your tears burn anew.

“This is a bit more than a Christmas present,” you said. He gave a more self-deprecating smile.

“Well, it’s also kind of an apology,” he said. “For getting you mixed up in my ‘family business.’”

He still felt guilt beyond belief for putting you in danger. For your life being threatened. For being the reason you couldn’t go home.

You just shook your head. Your hand raised to press against his cheek. Your thumb drew tenderly along his chin.

“I thought you said you were part of my family now?” you said. “We’ll figure this out together, like everything else.”

Dean’s eventual smile lightened you, and his kiss warmed you down to your toes.

“If you want, let’s go for a ride after dinner,” he said.

It was your turn to smirk. Your hands migrated under his jacket and teased at his belt.

“Well, I’m certainly down for a ride,” you said.

Dean laughed and squeezed your hips. “All right. I’m puttin’ you on my naughty list.”

When John finally arrived, the brothers welcomed him in first with big man hugs and good-natured ribbing for him being so damn late.

In Sam’s words, Upholding a Winchester family tradition.

John had taken that with a chuckle. “Smells damn good in here.”

“Yeah, food’s been done for an hour,” Dean prodded at him again. His grin betrayed his teasing, however. His welcoming hand stayed on his dad’s shoulder until they reached the living room, where Sam had set up a longer fold out table and chairs to function as the makeshift dining room, since the table near the kitchen only seated three.

There you were opening a bottle of Jack Daniels. You smiled up at John.

“Figured you were more of a whiskey than wine kind of guy,” you said. You were a bit nervous to see him again, no doubt with flour in your hair and frosting staining your hands. He clasped your shoulder with a hint of a smile.

“You’d be right. Good to see you, darlin’,” he said.

“You too,” you replied. Despite the fact that the first and last time you two had met, it had been in front of your house as the police rifled through your life, looking for more explosives. He graciously didn’t bring that up as he greeted Eileen next.

Once dinner was on the table, there was a lot of catching up between the brothers and their father while you and Eileen continued talking, even through dessert.

“This really is amazing,” she told you, pointing her fork at her slice of berry crumble. “I can see why you went to culinary school.”

You blushed as Sam, Dean, and even John echoed her praise. All three men had generous slices of both pies.

“Well, thank you. I’m glad you guys enjoy it,” you said, and your smile was genuine.

You loved making good food, but you loved feeding people even more. Whether it was a simple hearty soup or a rich dessert, you liked putting smiles on their faces and giving them a good experience; one they could share with their family and friends. Even better if it was your family.

Or as Dean would say, Your people.

To you, that was life.

“I’m tellin’ you, if you opened up a bakery you’d make a killing in this town,” Dean said. He nudged your hand with the one that held his fork; it held a precarious piece of pumpkin pie.

You shot him an amused look.

“Don’t you look at me sideways, I’m serious,” he said, laughing a little, but his gaze was steady.

Your cheeks warmed against your will. He believed in your dream, even when you couldn’t quite let yourself.

“Hey, if you ever want to look into applying for a loan, I could help,” Sam said, earning your attention. “I have a friend who works at a bank.”

Your brows raised. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we were pre-law together back in college, but he figured he was better with numbers.”

You smiled. “Well, it would make it easier knowing I was dealing with your friend.”

“Yeah, his name’s Brady. Let me know if you want me to call him,” he said.

You bit your lip, but you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

Maybe they were right. Maybe you should start to believe in yourself, just a little bit more.

“This was all real delicious,” John said to you, when you came back from bringing the leftovers to the kitchen.

Sam and Dean were already arguing about who was doing the dishes and who was drying them. Meanwhile, Eileen was putting away the food (and probably rolling her eyes).

“Yeah, it was a team effort for sure,” you replied. “Dean’s actually a really good cook.”

John chuckled. “Yeah, well, he didn’t get that from me. I can barely boil a damn egg.”

You smiled to yourself; you could imagine Dean got it from his mother then.

Meanwhile, John was watching you stack the empty plates as he grew more contemplative. He’d always been proud of his sons. They were good men, with strong heads on their shoulders.

He often looked at Sam and saw that he seemed happy. Despite the demands of his job, he was learning to balance that with the life he led with Eileen. As a father, John looked forward to the day when they made a firm foundation, taking the next step towards building a life together.

But Dean had seemed to him, a little unstable. John was still proud of his eldest, but while he’d seen a glimpse of it that day at your house, he saw it even more today. Like his son finally had an anchor, tethering him to dry land.

Even so, he couldn’t help heaving a sigh. And he asked you something he knew he shouldn’t.

“Have you given any more thought to filing a report on Nick Savage?” he asked.

You paused in your plate and cup stacking. You looked up at him with a frown, but you thought about your words before you said something rude.

“Yes, I did,” you replied. “I decided my life and my peace were more important.”

He let out a short sigh. “I understand—”

“I’m sorry, John, but I don’t think you do,” you said. Your words were matter-of-fact, if a tad more sharp than you meant them to be. Your hands were starting to tremble.

You crossed your arms to try and steady yourself, but Dean ended up doing just that, by joining your side and resting a hand at the small of your back. He was frowning, glancing between you and his father.

“Tell me you’re not talking about what I think you are,” Dean said, addressing John in particular. “Not on damn Christmas.”

“Like you said, it’s her decision,” John replied. His gaze once again focused on you.

You let out a breath, mostly of exasperation.

“I’m going to bottom-line it for you. If I report that man, and you can’t guarantee me a job and safety until it’s all over, then I’m not poking the bear,” you said. “I plan to keep my head down until I can find another job. Until then, you can have at him all you want. Just leave me out of it.”

Part of you felt selfish. You knew what John was trying to accomplish, and you knew how personal this fight was for him, and for Sam and Dean for that matter. You just couldn’t shake your gut instincts here. You knew Nick far too well by now, and you didn’t want to underestimate him again.

“I agree,” said Dean. You gave him a grateful look.

John conceded with a nod, but all of you knew he wasn’t satisfied. It became a bitter ending to an otherwise brilliant day after he left for the night.

In your mind, it wasn’t quite over yet though. You had a plan up your sleeve for one Dean Winchester.

Sam and Eileen had their own time together while you and Dean went for a drive in your new car. You’d have to transfer your plate and registration and insurance, so it was technically an “illegal” drive, but it was already late and traffic was scarce.

By the time you pulled back into the parking lot, you were smiling from ear to ear, and Dean was giving you that smug grin that said, Aw yeah, I did good.

You couldn’t even fault him for it, because he did exactly that.

Even when you and Dean were getting ready for bed, it didn’t quite feel real. You were living with your boyfriend of just a few months, you now had a new car, and a crime lord had threatened your life.

You chose to focus on the new car. And on your boyfriend, who sat on the edge of his side of the bed, rubbing his right shoulder through his shirt. You knew it must still be sore, though he likely wouldn’t admit it.

Hence, you were about to enact Phase 1 of your plan…

You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.

Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.

You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.

You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”

He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.

“Well, if you’re offering…”

You withdrew your hand from his arm, but you spoke close to his ear.

“Are you asking?”

He let out a small sigh, despite his lingering smile.

“All right. Will you please give me a lil’ massage?” he asked.

He couldn’t see your triumphant smile, but you happily kissed his cheek.

“I sure can,” you replied. You laid gentle hands on his shoulders, however briefly. “Stay right here. Don’t move, but take off your shirt.”

“All right, Miss Bossy,” he grumbled. You knew he was teasing by the amused look he threw your way.

“I thought you liked that,” you teased back.

You climbed off the bed before he could playfully grab you, and you giggled all the way to the bathroom. There you began Phase 2 of your plan.

First, you collected a few different bottles from your designated drawer under the sink. Then, you made a quick wardrobe change, after popping back into the bedroom to grab something from your nightstand.

You also connected your phone to the speaker on his nightstand and put some music on a low volume. It was a playlist he’d made and shared with you a while ago, with songs he thought you’d like. The Eagles’ “Take It to the Limit” was definitely on the list.

By the time you returned to Dean, he was indeed shirtless, still in his sweatpants, and checking his watch.

“I’m here, I’m here,” you said. You climbed across the bed with your small haul—a difficult feat with your hands full, but you managed.

Dean turned to look at the bottles of moisturizer you dropped next to him on the bed. He rose a brow.

“Twilight Woods. Japanese Cherry Blossom. Appletini. Are these my only options?” he asked. His face was half bemused, half reluctant.

You almost burst out laughing. “Which one strikes your fancy?”

He scratched the back of his head. You opened the second bottle first (your personal favorite), so he could smell.

“Not bad actually,” he muttered. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t giggle, but you managed to open the other two for him to get a whiff.

“Eh, the first one I guess,” he said.

Japanese Cherry Blossom. AKA: a classic from Bath & Body Works.

You finally had to laugh. “Just kidding. I’ve got this.”

You held up a jar you’d been hiding behind him. Its logo said: Massage Oil.

“I just wanted to see which girly moisturizer you secretly wanna slather all over yourself,” you said.

Dean shot you a wry look, but only then did he see what you were wearing.

“Oh, hold up,” he uttered.

Your hair was let loose, how you knew he liked, and you’d teased it out a little. You’d had to give away the red lingerie you’d bought, to rid both of you of its lingering memories of your work Christmas party. Instead, you’d found something in a vibrant emerald green: satin and lace.

Dean’s hand reached for your waist, probably to bring you closer. But you playfully slapped his hand.

“Eh-eh! Not yet,” you said to his surprised face. You smiled. “I have a plan for you tonight.”

Slowly, he smirked. His eyes still dipped to take in the rest of you, from your pretty face, to exposed skin and cleavage, to shiny satin that clung to your curves and draped down to mid-thigh.

“I can see,” he said. His voice was a notch deeper. “Merry Christmas to me.”

Despite your blush and growing smile, you turned him back around by his shoulders.

“Just relax.”

You let your hands drift up the back of his neck to slide your fingers through his hair. There you began with a slow, gentle massage of his head. You felt him take a deep breath.

You couldn’t see it, but Dean’s eyes had closed at your ministrations. He secretly really liked the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. It made his shoulders loosen; with tension he didn’t know he had releasing from the neck down.

Aside from the rigors of his job, he also had to work out and condition his body to keep up his stamina. He probably didn’t spend as much time as he should on this aspect of things, making sure he wasn’t overtaxing himself.

He appreciated what you were doing though. He knew you cared about him, that you loved him. But he liked that you were also a caring person, who tried to take care of him. Dean hadn’t really had that…from anyone before. Sometimes, it was hard for him to let you.

…Damn, we really got too much in common, he realized.

When you migrated back down his neck, your hands left for a moment to gather up some oil. It was warm against his skin when you started between his shoulders, digging with the heel of your hands.

He groaned deep, surprising even himself.

Behind him, your brows were furrowed. “You’re really knotted up here. When was the last time you had a massage?”

Dean chuckled. “Never.”

You frowned. “Hmm. Okay, we’re definitely doing this more often.”

“No complaints from me,” he said with a grin.

Of course, you gave special attention to his right shoulder. You were gentler there, asking what was tender and what felt good, or too much. By then you had an easier time getting the truth out of Dean. He let you know when the pressure was too much, and you even helped him stretch out that arm until the muscles and joints were warmed up and the pain was gone.

You encouraged him to lie on his stomach in the middle of the bed, so you could start on his back. Your hands glided down planes of muscle and smooth slopes while you straddled his thighs. The only sounds you heard from him were occasional moans and rumbling, pleased sounds. That was also what let you know that he hadn’t fallen asleep.

“Okay, turn over,” you said, smiling when he groaned in protest. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

“What the hell’s the good part then?” he asked. His voice was muffled in the mattress, but when he turned around, flopping onto his back, his eyes once again took in the green satin and seemed to remember what your real intentions were.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. His grin was lazy, now that he was beyond relaxed, but his hands found purchase on your hips. You smiled down at him.

You let the remaining oil on your hands glide up his chest, until you lowered down for a kiss. It was unhurried and sweet.

“I love you, you know?” you said.

Dean swept his fingers through your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear.

He smiled. “I’ve got some idea, yeah.”

You both laughed, soft and true. Your hand rested against his cheek as you pressed your lips to his, soft and slow at first, but soon gaining in both passion and urgency. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, grinding your center against his growing length.

He groaned. No goddamn panties on. Good.

You kissed your way from his lips to his neck. Your teeth grazed his ear while you rolled your hips into his. It was a tease for both of you, but not for long, as Dean grew impatient enough to slide his sweatpants down, followed by his hands slipping under the satin covering your thighs. They traveled further still, squeezing your breasts and rolling hardened nipples under the pads of his thumbs.

Your breath hitched, and your pleased hum was music to his ears. By now you were bracing yourself against the mattress, but you used his shoulders as leverage to raise yourself up.

You took his hands and encouraged them to bunch up the satin and pull it over your head. Dean sat up with you still in his lap, and once his strong arm wrapped around your waist, it was skin to flushed skin.

You held his face and brought him down to you for another fierce kiss. He held you tightly against him, hands splayed across your back and tangling in your hair. His arms were a cage you never wanted to escape.

But you did press away from him, just for a moment, so you could reach down between your bodies to take a firm hold of his cock. You guided it to your entrance. There was already a small flood between your legs, and your core ached for him.

There was almost no resistance when you slowly sunk your hips down and down, until he was buried deep inside you.

You both made sounds of pleasure, with labored breaths as Dean’s hand cradled your cheek. He laid open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, teeth grazing down your neck.

You clung to his shoulders and began to move, slow in the way you let almost the full length of his cock escape you, before you slid back down. Dean moaned into your skin, and you let out a shuddering sigh.

You pushed at Dean’s chest until he was lying back, and you continued rolling your hips against his. He helped you create a steady rhythm on top of him, but he was being treated to a feast of the eyes as well as the pleasure rocking through his body. He watched the way you swept your hair back. The way your eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as you bit your lip.

But he couldn’t stay still for long; he knew he was close enough to practically taste his end, but you had some miles to go. He gripped your thigh with one hand while the other glided up between them, to further part your folds. His fingers found your clit, circling insistently like it was a button. It had your hips stuttering.

“Oh, God,” you uttered. “Dean—”

He managed to smirk through panting breaths. “Right there, right baby?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You continued to move as steadily as you could, but the feeling of him deep inside combined with his talented fingers playing you like a five-string guitar—it finally made you tighten on him, shuddering deep inside. Tingles broke across your skin, zipping up your spine as you gasped.

Dean helped you with the last few hard thrusts that brought him along with you, and you felt his warmth spilling inside you.

It wasn’t the first time that had happened, since you were on birth control. But after you slid off his lap and practically rolled into his side, him welcoming you with an arm wrapping around your waist, it did make you think, as you caught your breath.

It made you think about the first time you and Dean slept together. It had been the first and last time you’d asked him to wear a condom. The next morning, he’d made a remark that still hung in the back of your mind…

“You like kids, huh?”

The thought still rattled through your mind now, after you and Dean shared a quick shower, ridding you both of the oil clinging to your skin. The thought remained when you slid into bed, under fresh sheets and thick covers, and close to your man. He cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling.

Contrary to what this night had been, the whole “moving in together” thing hadn’t been all that easy. You two had bickered about the way he often left drawers and cabinets open and dirty clothes on the floor.

He had made remarks about your hair products taking up too much space in his drawers. Not to mention how morning routines needed to adjust because Dean liked to shower in the morning, but you needed the mirror not fogged up in order to do your makeup.

Right now, however, you had peace. You felt safe here, and you weren’t alone in a huge house filled with far too many memories.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

Dean’s lips lingered on your forehead. “Hmm?”

“I know this situation is sort of temporary, me living here,” you said. “So much has happened that we haven’t really talked about…what we both want, down the line.”

He pulled back enough from you to see your face. His face betrayed a thread of confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean like…” you hesitated, but you realized you were probably going to have to be direct. “Are you a marriage and kids kind of guy? Is that even something you’ve thought about?”

Dean met your gaze. It took him a moment, but he let out a short sigh.

“You wanna know what made me want to start dating, for real?” he asked.

You blinked; you hadn’t expected that, but you nodded.

“I started thinking about what would happen if something happened to me on the job,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, he raised a placating hand.

“I thought about what I’d leave behind,” said Dean. He quirked a wry smile. “It’s not much, besides my car.”

You frowned in earnest. Your hand flattened against his bare chest.

“That’s not true,” you said. “You have your brother, your father, and your friends. That’s plenty, Dean.”

He conceded that with a nod. “You’re right. But I just started thinking, maybe I want more. Like uh…like what my parents had, when they were happy. The house, each other, me and Sammy…a family.”

You couldn’t be certain in the near total darkness of the room, with only the moonlight filtering through the blinds and casting a glow behind him, but you thought you saw a shine in his eyes. Your hand crept up from beneath the covers to find his cheek. It was rough with stubble, yet you tenderly swept a thumb back and forth.

“I think that’s beautiful,” you replied.

Dean paused. He then huffed in amusement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, hoping he could see it.

“Then uh, is that something you’d be into?” he asked. You were amused by his tentative approach.

“With you?” You pretended to think. Your fingers slipped into his hair. “Yeah, I think I’m into that.”

He chuckled. “Okay, then. Good to know.”

He grasped your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss into your palm.

And he spoke into the dark. “I love you too, you know.”

Your smile deepened as you rested your head against his arm. You whispered into the small space between your faces.

“Yeah, I’ve got some idea.”

AN: 🥹 All righty, how'd you like that fluff overload?

...Ready for some more drama? 😏

Next Time:

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

Keep Reading: PART 16

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#The Good Part #Smoke Eater #Part 15 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #Sam Winchester #eileen leahy #john winchester #zepskies writes

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cash-111 · 19 days

Text

Random filth,

My hcs for the Slytherins

Pairings: female reader x Theodore/Mattheo/Draco/Enzo/Blaise/Tom

CW: explicit talk of sex and kinks under the cut.

A/N: it’s that time of the month. Don’t come for me.

You can tell I got tired near the end lol

Theodore is an absolute munch. I see him being obsessed with oral far more than any of the others. He’s had a rough day? Smothering your lips until you squirm, and everything else is drowned out by your cries of pleasure, will cheer him up. He’s had a particularly good day? Gotta celebrate with his favorite activity, which, coincidentally, includes his favorite person.

on this line of thinking, I could see him being into food stuff. Especially for Italian!theo, food is super important in Italian culture and I can see it being a big comfort for him, if not just something he finds pleasurable. He’ll feed you strawberries, fill you a nice glass of wine, and ‘accidentally’ spill some chocolate fondue over you… well, your clothes are ruined now, so you might as well take them off? Just lay down and let him take care of the sweet mess he made, just for him to make an even worse one out of you. <3

Hot take, but I think Mattheo is a switch. He’s got that sweet burnt out golden child flare: high expectations and in turn high standards for himself, all the while upholding a public reputation (good or bad). I think this flows into spikes of dominance and/or submissiveness; he can absolutely be arrogant and imposing, he’ll have you melting and behaving for him one way or another, but we all crave intimacy and the freedom to be vulnerable too, and he’s no different.

Those times he wishes you would take care of him too, let him be whiny and delicate, breakable. He’ll grip at your flesh like a thirsty man grapples at water, thrusting up with you lazily, whimpers against your soft skin about how “you feel so good… so good” spilling over and over from his mouth.

I also think he carries a lot of guilt with him, so on a particularly bad day he’ll let you completely ruin him, rub him so raw he cries for you to stop. His throat is soar, his chest puffing, and his lips a slick blood red from all the biting and drooling. The overstimulation is too much, but even though he could easily break free, he surrenders, hoping the hot of his skin will burn down all of his impurities.

I’m sorry to all my tall girlies, but I think he’d have a thing for size difference. If you’re shorter, it’s just so perfect to him: he loves to make fun of you, rile you up and savor the cute spectacle you make for him; he loves how he can encompass you when you sit on his lap, and has to fight the urge of eating you up every time you’re in public; and when you hug his waist, hold his bigger hand, or do anything stupidly cute, he just wants to scoop you up and whisk you away. And he probably will.

Draco is similar in the way he also has high expectations to deal with, but I think he’d see it more as a loss of control, with his father cutting out a perfect path for him, his wish is to take his fate into his own hands. This results in a more domineering nature during sexy times, but I don’t think he’d ever be outright disrespectful, even on the spur of the moment.

Unless you ask for it, he’s not the type to let all instinct take over and risk hurting you. I adamantly believe in mama’s boy Draco, he may not respect dreadful Potter, or be influenced by a strict purist household, but he surely respects women.

One word. Possessive. What’s his is his and once you commit there’s no going back. He’ll guard you like a dragon does to his stash, a hand unconsciously always searching for you: an arm draped over your shoulder, curled around your waist, fingers laced with yours, or a firm grip on your wrist when he’s more nervous.

For this reason I think he’s hand-dominant when it comes to pleasure. He wants to feel, feel, feel. When he’s caught up in the delicious delirium you cause him, his hands will be all over you: your breasts, neck, arms, thighs, waist, there isn’t a stone left unturned. He’ll definitely lose himself in the trance of all the sounds he can get from you while his fingers are buried deep into your warm, pulsing core. And don’t you dare look away from his eyes, Merlin knows what happens when you do.

Some would have you believe Enzo is the most innocent of the group, but I actually think that boy is a wolf in sheep’s clothing: with a fervid imagination and a lot of love to give, Enzo is helpless to his mind’s work when it comes to you.

He will try not to let it show, but images of you plague his mind and blur his vision, so much so that he tries to avoid you, but, instead of toning it down, your absence just makes his fantasies that much more desperate.

Only one freaky (and with a solid parental background) enough to consider sharing you. He’s obsessed with your pleasure, he wouldn’t mind sitting back for a bit and just observe you, he knows all the sweet sounds you make are for him.

Hot take, but kind of a sadist (in a sweet way). Mf loves to watch you unravel and ‘humiliate’ you about it; would coo and say filthy things in your ear, a hand to the neck or on your hair when you both get really into it. I see him having switch up moments sometimes where something more primal engulfs him, it’ll have him rail you to the end of tomorrow in a way so contrasting to the sweet person he is, you’d wonder if it’s even him, but you can’t really think during those times…

Blaise is a chill man, I don’t think he’d have many depravities, but he’ll try anything at least once, if it’s to your liking. And you can bet he’ll give it his all, he just wants to have a good time with you, so it’s only natural he’d give everything a fair shot. Very soft top of him.

Only more out there thing I really see him actively bringing into your relationship, would be semi-public escapades. I think he loves the thrill of having you two almost caught, and certainly enjoys making it into a game of who can get the other to break first, before going back to a more secluded, private, area.

He will have you squirming in your seat during meals, or in the back of the classroom, hand stuffed down your panties. You’re helpless to stop him, a hand gripped tightly around his wrist, while the other tries to muffle any whimpers he tears from you. He’ll smirk as he wets his lips, acting like you’re the only compromised one (while his cock strains painfully in his tight uniform trousers, tip leaking and crying for attention), and whisper into your ear, his other hand tracing featherlight on your other side. “Just admit you need me”. He’s an ass, but you do.

What I need you to understand for Tom, is that, in French spirit, his whole stigma is about being grand and iconic (💅) , he’s a psycho and you’re his devoted pet.

Will hold you a collaring ceremony. You’re his pretty little thing, in the literal sense. You’re his possession, and as such you will do anything for him. If you’ll be good, he’ll make sure to take care of you. Since you’re an extension of him, he can’t have you being damaged or neglected (in the face of the public. That’s very important). You need to shine for him, like a pretty jewel: make him proud. Unless you want to be bad, reject him, demean him. Then he’ll have no mercy, using you as an outlet, bullying you with his cock, until you forget where you are, and throwing venomous words at you, until you remember your own place. (… and who knows, maybe you planned for it)

Isn’t affected much by physicality, but is absolutely obsessed with lingerie. He finds it classy, intriguing. He’ll bring you endless racks of it: you’re expected to try each and every one, and always wear it when meeting him. Also perfumes, he’s very opinionated and has a sensitive nose, which he’ll push deep into your neck when he unravels upon you, groaning against your marked skin.

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siempre-bucky · 1 year

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Sweet Dreams

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: After soothing Jake after a nightmare, Jake comforts his son after one of his own

wc: 1.1k

warnings: talks of nightmares

A/n: It's been a HOT minute since I've written anything. Please enjoy some domestic hurt/comfort :')

“Was the mission successful, Lieutenant?”

“Rooster and Mav… I-I wasn’t fast enough?”

Jake jolted awake; cotton-mouthed, and forehead ridden with beads of sweat. He almost forgot he was shaking until he felt the soothing touch of your hand slide down his bare bicep. The fire in his lungs started to subside as you turned him around, the cold from the fabric of your nightgown soothing his chest once he was pressed against you. “What happened?” you whispered into his ear.

“Same shit as every year, darlin’,” he whispered back, lips dancing along the crook of your neck. You let him stay silent after that, his hands roaming the body he knew almost better than his own. His bloodshot eyes closed, nose pressing deeper into your neck as if it would help him memorize the new perfume you had bought.

You sighed and held him close, fingertips scratching the nape of his neck for his comfort. It was like this every October since the mission the Navy deemed a miracle. Jake would mark off the days on his calendar with a red pen and the nightmares came back when night fell. “My love?” you spoke after a while, making sure he was still with you.

“It was the one with Mav and Rooster,” he managed, pulling back to lie down on his pillow.

You followed him, wrapping your arms and legs around him with your head on his chest. “You could always call Rooster,” you mostly joked, “check in on him.”

“No way in hell am I gonna call Slow Ride,” he pouted. Even though he did once, on the one-year anniversary of the mission when the nightmares were at their peak. The blond rolled his eyes at your knowing giggles, he playfully shoved you away and got up from the bed. “I’m going downstairs for water, you want anythin’?”

You shook your head and got back under the blanket, turning away from him. Jake smiled kindly in return and made his way out of the room, fingers gliding along the wall to ground him. He was in this house, he was part of a team because he succeeded, Rooster’s a part of that team. It became his mantra as he descended the stairs, eyes glued to the floor.

The kitchen light was already on, it took Hangman a few seconds to register it. His brows furrowed at the freezer door that was still cracked open from the last user. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, he shut both doors and turned towards the island. “Jesus,” he cursed in shock, seeing his son silently sitting there, wrist deep in the tub of ice cream. “What are you doin’ up, son?” he breathed, masking the panic.

Luke looked up from his phone, matching bloodshot green eyes meeting his. “Late-night snack,” the thirteen-year-old responded. Jake could see beyond his answer, he knew the way his shoulders were hunched and the slight tremor in his hands—he knew it all too well. Plus he wore the faded Navy hoodie that used to be his father's, he wore it whenever you or Jake went on a mission.

“Luke,” Jake said, turning on the dad voice he perfected. He rounded the island and took a seat on the bar tool beside him, stealing his son's spoon.

“It’s nothing, dad,” Luke grumbled.

“Bullshit,” Jake smirked, raising his brows. “You know what your ma would say.”

Luke rolled his eyes and threw his head back in defeat. “I had a bad dream, but it’s alright! I’m not a baby, we don’t need to talk,” I’m a man now, men don’t talk about bad dreams.

As if he could hear his thoughts, Jake took his pointer finger and poked the side of his head. He earned a weak smile in return “We don’t talk like that in this house, son, you know that.” Sucking it up was never an option in the Seresin household, not in this Seresin household.

“I dreamt that you and mom didn’t make it back— no one made it back—grandma and grandpa didn’t want us,” Luke began to say, his grip tightening around his phone. Jake draped an arm around his son's shoulders and pulled him closer. “We had nowhere to go, we were alone.”

“I’m right here, your mom's right upstairs, and your uncle Javy is a phone call away,” Jake reminded him calmly. Luke’s frame relaxed, his head finally leaning on Jake’s shoulder. “You know there’s a plan if something happens, we’d never leave you alone, kiddo.”

The two Seresin men sat in silence for a while, the ice cream on the counter beginning to melt in front of them. “I’m afraid to go back to sleep,” Luke admitted after a while.

“Yeah, me too.”

“D-did you have a nightmare too?”

Jake’s lips thinned, his initial reaction was to deny it, suck it up, and move on as his dad beat into him growing up. But even in his darkest time, he was still an example to his children, “Yeah, but it was just a dream,” he nodded along with his words, then he nudged him, “but there’s someone who always makes it better.”

You felt restless after Jake left the bed, tossing and turning, turning the lamp off and on until it remained permanently on while you waited for your husband. When the door started to creak open, you sat up, the blanket pooling around you. Of course, you expected a six-foot aviator to walk through the door, but you didn’t expect the lanky boy by his side “Hi honey,” you greeted Luke, your eyes fixed on Jake cautiously.

“Got room for another tonight? told him you’re the best sandman around,” Jake questioned, sending you a look. Taking the hint, you smiled and opened your arms. Your son grinned and crawled into the bed, hugging you tighter than normal. It all made sense.

Jake climbed in beside you, pressing a kiss to your temple before getting comfortable.

“Want to talk about it?” you asked, pushing back his hair.

Luke shook his head, pulling out his dog tags and running his fingers along your name and call sign. “No,” he muttered, “Dad and I already did…I’m feeling better. Just sleepy.” He pulled the blanket to his nose, slipping off you and finding his place in the middle. You playfully covered his eyes, making him laugh which resulted in Jake turning around to face the action. You and Jake locked eyes, your hand left Luke’s face to brush along your husband's face.

Jake wrapped his hand around your hand, pulling it closer to kiss your palm. “Goodnight boys, sweet dreams.”

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fluff #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin is a good dad #top gun #top gun maverick

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icanseethefuture333 · 9 months

Text

Glamour Witch 🕯

A guide to confidence, beauty, & self love 🪞🩰🦢🍒💌

How I made glamour magick efficient for me and why working with the goddess Aphrodite shifted my self concept + help me connect to the divine feminine 🕊

First let's do a back story on my relationship with my matron 🌸:

My spiritual awakening happened when I was 17 years old after experiencing the loss of a loved one and coping with past trauma. I went into my adolescence with fear, agony, and poor self esteem. I was very much so a tomboy as a teenager (to this day I still have masculine qualities that I am now proud of and balanced it with my feminine side) but I was so out of touch with what being a "girl" was. I felt really self conscious about not being "woman" enough and had a complicated view on my gender (since I realized I was nonbinary at 14). I became interested in the occult since I grew up in a spiritual household (crystals, manifestation, etc) but never really got to engage with things like tarot or witchcraft because it was considered taboo. I had a reading done one day and I was told that Aphrodite wanted to work with me as my deity. My teenage self was confused by this because I thought - "The goddess of beauty and love wanted to work with me? Well that can't be right." I was expecting something more dark or cool like Hades or Hermes or whatever because that was just my personal style since I dressed very alternatively. I was nervous, but also intrigued. As I begun to pray to her and started doing spellwork - I felt safe, I felt loved, it was like a mother watching over me. I started learning how to do makeup for my ethnic features and became more educated about fashion and what it means to really be a true feminist. I learned to say fuck the binary system and made my own definition of not what just being a "woman" is but also what being "feminine" meant to me, period. You can be whatever you want to be and be beautiful regardless of what your appearance is like. Some days I want to wear snapbacks and sneakers, other times I wanna wear high heels with a flattering dress. I do what makes me feel comfortable and that's nobody's business but mine. Society made us believe that being sensitive, caring, or intuitive - the traits of the divine feminine (which we have in us all) as bad when it's not. There's strength in being soft and delicate. Be gentle towards yourself, my loves.

Embrace your shadow self to manifest your dream life ✨️:

You know what people will never tell you or admit to you on social media? Is that you can be self conscious and still be confident at the same time. Confidence is just being comfortable with yourself and knowing despite what you've been through or are feeling in the moment, it should not hold you back from achieving your fullest potential. Like Megan Thee Stallion said "Bad bitches have bad days too" And it's true! I have my good days and then I have my bad days, but even when I'm doubting or losing my faith, I always get back up by keep going. Why? It's because if I stop then I'm not living. I'm not being grateful for the life I still have while there are people out there battling severe illnesses and don't have much time left. Nobody wants to be candid and only want to portray themselves as perfect, when nobody is. It's a damaging narrative to think you have to be popping on social media and always staying positive. I don't know why being vulnerable is such a stigma these days. Everyone is scared of being hurt, sure, but there is so much power in knowing what you makes you happy and being able to voice what your wants/needs are. You get to live for yourself and not what others want you to be. Not to mention the importance of having the power and ability to set the boundaries your inner child probably never got to have?! I'm so tired of people spreading the belief of that you shouldn't talk about mental health, trauma, or personal fears because it makes you seem "weak" or "easy prey". That is the same tactics abusers use to make their victims stay hushed and makes them not able to stand up for themselves. That way of thinking is victim blaming! If you as a person, feel brave enough to discuss what the fuck is going on in your mind that does not make you a weakling, that makes you strong as hell. They are the weak ones for taking advantage of people who were already suffering. It's time to forgive yourself for your past mistakes and acknowledge what happened, but do not let it control you. You don't have to let go or get over it, it's okay if it's still a wound for you but you can choose to make it better by creating a better future by working with your higher self. Think about who you want to be, how you want to appear, what career you aspire to have, etc. Either write it down, visualize, or make a vision board. Release the old version of you and thank them for helping you survive.

I have been reading the book Mirror Work by Louise Hay and it entails about how the negative things people said or the difficult experiences we had dealt with in our lifetime gets stored in our subconscious mind. When we make jokes that are self depreciating or engage in self degrading behavior, it harms us even more, preventing us from maturing or loving ourselves. Doing shadow work is uncomfortable for everyone but it is a must to process the patterns in your life and learn as to why you become the person you are today. Being aware of your triggers and what makes you tick. Can make you more emotionally intelligent and be able to have a healthier conversation as well as creating lasting positive connections.

Books I recommend for subconscious reprogramming, shadow work, & healing from trauma:

Mirror Work by Louise Hay

"The Courage to" book series by Ichiro Kishimi & Fumitake Koga

Boundaries by Dr. Henry Cloud & Dr. John Townsend

The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle

The Self Confidence Workbook by Barbara Markway & Celia Ampel

Psychology of The Unconscious by Dr. Carl Jung

It Didn't Start With You by Mark Wolynn

You can also find shadow work prompts on pinterest.

Don't just say it, do it! 11 ways to actually practice self care:

Making a goal and actually putting the effort in can be tough for some individuals, especially for those diagnosed with depression. That's why it's important to be patient with yourself and understand that healing is a journey, not a race! A youtuber I have been enjoying and watching lately is the critically acclaimed, thewizardliz: An Iranian woman who gives advice on confidence, discipline, and more! A video that I watched of hers recently was called and bluntly titled: "How to stop being lazy & pathetic". In most of liz's videos she is someone who is tough but is also tender. She explains that when we are procrastinating it's because we are thinking of just the end goal, which scares us and makes us overthink about what to do or how to do it. When really, we can just take small, simple steps at a time to reach towards what we wish yo accomplish, so that way it will feel less intimidating. If you have a essay that's due for example, try to write a few sentences each day, or think about how good it would feel if you were to get a good grade on your paper. Think of it this way - Would you rather slack and be upset you failed? Or would you rather prevent that from happening so you can be proud of what you achieved? Figure out what motivates you as a person and write it down so you can always be reminded of the confident being you wish to become.

Journaling: This is such a crucial hobby that I believe everyone should have. Writing down your thoughts or feelings helps not only increases your intelligence and brain health, but it also helps navigate your feelings better when you are facing a problem. You are able to reflect inward and discover the different parts of your psyche that you never knew you had.

Art: Divine feminine energy embodies the source of creation and life. The same way people with wombs give birth to children, an artist's project can be their beautiful baby. Find what type of art form brings you peace and allows you to express yourself (poetry, songwriting, dancing, painting, woodcarving, etc).

Exercise: I know this is something that some people struggle with (me included 💀) and when people hear that it's like "Ugh, I don't wanna work out! It's too hard!" but just hear me out okay? We have to exercise so our internal organs can stay healthy. When we don't take care of ourselves by not at least taking 15 minutes out of our day by owalking, exercising, or cardio, when there is 24 hours in a day... That is a major neglect to yourself. Just remember that it is a privilege that you still have the ability to move, jump, lift, run, squat, and even more. When there are people who suffer from chronic pain and disabilities that are still making sure to take care of their physical health because they have no other choice. When you think about how you're too "lazy" and you can't do it because of your "laziness", think of those people! Cherish the health that you have before it's too late. You can start by stretching, going for walks, or watching workout videos for beginners on YouTube.

Build a schedule: Having a routine is so important because it helps reduce stress and organizes the task that we have to do throughout our day. Make a sleep schedule for yourself as well. Going to bed late until 3 am in the morning or waking up too early is unsafe and makes you less alert when you are out in the world. So please be careful! Try to at least get 6 hours of sleep a day. Drinking tea, taking a warm bath, or using essential oils can help you fall asleep if you don't like using melatonin.

Cleanliness & Hygiene: It's unfortunate that I have to say this but some people were not taught by their parents on how to be clean. Or how cishet men feel that being hygienic is "gay". That's absurd! Everyone should have a clean house, clean body, and a good hygiene routine. There is no excuse for that. Even when I was depressed I still would get up to brush my teeth or wash my hair because I knew that if I were to ever go too long without taking care of my hygiene I'd have to deal with damaging my teeth, hair, or skin. Everything has a cause and effect when you neglect doing self care and that could also be apart of the reason why you feel so down about your looks is due to that lack of poor hygiene. It doesn't have to be anything extravagant or you need to do a 10 step skincare routine all the time. You can buy beauty products for cheap at off price retail stores and combs, toothbrushes, etc, at the dollar store. All you gotta do is wash your face and shower daily (scrub in between your ass cheeks, please and thank you 💀), brush your teeth at least 3 or more times a day, moisturize with lotions, use a sunscreen (cus nobody got time for skin cancer), apply deodorant, and that's literally it. You can use toners, serums, and skin treatments if you feel like iy but it's not neccessary unless you have specific concerns (acne, wrinkles, etc).

Personal finance 💵: As a Capricorn ♑️, there is nothing more important to me than having my own money. Knowing how to budget and being responsible with your funds is so crucial. You can manifest prosperity and be wealthy, but if you don't know what to do with a million dollars, how could you ever receive it? It is so attractive when someone is wise with their money. I took elective classes in high school for commercial art, marketing, and personal finance so that way I could learn to how to be independent as an adult and not have to "hustle" or live the struggle life. Always take care of your household bills (utilities, repairs, gas for the car, etc.) first and then leave a certain amount for yourself for when you want to have fun, go shopping, etc. Learn about how to make an investment, as well as stocks, because that is another way that you can make a lot of money (and no I don't mean Crypto or NFTs 😭)

Education is key 📚: READ HEAUXS REEEEAD 👓 Make those sapiosexuals quiver with your big sexy brain 🧠. I just feel like in general we need to be knowledgeable about our history and *Jaden Smith voice* the political state of the world right now. Being dismissive and ignorant is a major turn off. You have to be able to know how to communicate in certain settings or talk about certain subjects, or else you're gonna just look and sound dumb. I don't care if you like to read about insects or flowers, just find a topic that interests you.

Boundaries: A simple way to start implementing self care into your daily routine is by being able to say "Yes." Or "No." I know for women it is hard to assert themselves and say no especially when there is a grimy ass man tryna flirt with you (ayoooo shawty 🤓), but for your own protection you gotta do it. When people know you are not stern and you are not able to defend yourself, they take advantage of that. It makes you an easy target. Let's say for a example, you have a overbearing parent that constantly drains and takes from your energy. This parent doesn't respect you and makes you feel bad about yourself because you let them. When they ask you for something, you can just say; "Thank you but I will not be doing that. It would be an inconvenience for me right now because I have to focus on ___" or "I would prefer not to do that because I have to do ___ this week and it's very important". Even if it's not anything actually important, still say no. Another example is if you have a friend that's toxic and is not elevating you in any type of way (mentally, emotionally, or finacially). Then tell them that and cut them off. You are not obligated to stay around anyone who brings you down. Here is a list of ways to set boundaries professionally. Also learn to stop over apologizing here is what you can do instead. Margot Robbie learned to say "Thank you" instead of saying "sorry" because of Barbie.

Meditation 🧘🏽‍♀️: A useful skill in embracing your thoughts, whether they are positive or negative, to help in finding your inner zen. Meditation was something that was tricky for me at first. Most people say to "empty your mind and be still" when meditating and for someone with ADHD, I was like... "Umm, this is boring 💀???" but overtime I tried it a few times again and have grown to appreciate it! I learned that meditation was actually quite helpful for me, especially when I felt burdened with too many tasks, or was dealing racing thoughts. It just really helped me calm down, especially when I was feeling overwhelmed (for people who experience sensory overloads I highly recommend!). I no longer feel ashamed or fearful of when a intrusive thought crosses my mind. I just simply let that thought pass through and go on about my day. The average young adult has over 6,000 thoughts a day, so why would I give something so meaningless power? I am in control of myself and what I react to. For this, it will allow you to do the same.

Spend time with a loved one: I'm sure we all have someone who we consider our comfort person or a special pet that makes us feel calm. Humans are animals, sometimes we need that social interaction to stay sane during troubling times. Make a phone call, text, or plan to meet up with a friend or family member this week. Maybe even step out of your comfort zone and ask an acquaintance out for lunch.

Be brave: Remember what I said about stepping out of your comfort zone? That's right. It's time to stop living life of regrets and live a life of excitement. I want you to think about something you've been really wanting to do lately but haven't pursued it yet because of fear, doubt, or limiting beliefs. Take a deep breath and release it to the universe, your spirit guides, or any deity that you worship. Maybe there is a person you have a crush that you have been wanting to ask out lately or have been wanting to dye your hair a new color but were afraid of how it would turn out. Whatever it is, just have courage to go after what you want for once. For being brave is just about taking a leap of faith, even when you are scared.

How to awaken your inner goddess ✨️:

Loving yourself shouldn't be a chore, it should be a ritual baby 😌! Now for my beginner witches or practioners in closed practices. I know it can be intimidating to start doing deity work. That's why you have to take things slow and go at your own pace. I always recommend starting with doing a cleansing (burning incense, spraying florida water, etc) or a protection spell before doing any other kind of magick. Even though yes, I do worship Aphrodite, it is not neccessary for people to only go to her for a "glow up". There are sooooo many deities who are also gods or goddesses of love, beauty, etc. Naturally, a deity will show you signs that they wish to work with you, so makw sure to be on the look out for that!

Also if you are a woman of color like mwuahhh 😘 then here are a list of deities that also represent love, confidence, beauty, fertility, & creativity in African, Asian, Indigenous, & Pacific Islander religions:

Oshun (closed practice / Yoruba)

Yenaya (closed practice / Yoruba)

Hathor

Bastet

Isis

Astarte

Rati (Hinduism)

Lakshimi (Hinduism)

弁才天 / Benzaiten (Japanese Buddhism)

자청비 / Jacheongbi

仰阿莎 / Yang Asha

Liễu Hạnh

Mayari

Laka

Xochiquetzal

Estsanatlehi

Other deities are:

Apollo, Cupid, Eros, Priapus, Min, Brigid, & Dionyus

There is also ascended masters, saints, archangels, ancestors, & spirit guides that you can connect with. I recommend building a relationship with your ancestors first.

How to talk your deity:

Create an altar for them or a sacred space.

Cleanse the area to avoid interacting with trickster spirits.

Place offerings on the table (make sure to look up what offerings they like!).

Light a candle or burn incense for them.

Write them a letter or pray. You can ask them for help with your specific needs or just talk to them about your day or how you are currently feeling.

BE CONSISTENT! Deities are not one of your little friends, they are gods/goddesses. Show them respect by praying, including them in spellwork, and giving them offerings frequently (they are understanding if you cannot give them food or drinks all the time though if you cannot afford it).

The final boss, The Enchantress 🔮❄️:

"SHADOW MONEY WIZARD GANGGG! We love casting spells 😈"

Alright, alright. I know you guys were reading all this thinking "Bitch where tf is the tutorial??? 😭" BUT WHAT I HAD TO SAY WAS IMPORTANT SO YOU CAN HAVE LONG TERM RESULTS 💀! Here is the moment you've all been waiting forrr 🤭!

101 on Glamour Magick:

The days of the week are connected to the planets.

Friday is a good day for casting love and beauty spells since it's ruler is Venus. While on Monday you can cast spells for healing & enhancing psychic powers, since it's ruler is the Moon. Thursday's ruler is Jupiter so you can cast spells for money and prosperity.

Buy a mirror that is for your special use only (If someone ends up accidently using it it's okay nothing bad will happen to them). Spray it with a window cleaner and wipe it down counter clockwise, say what your intention is for the mirror as you clean it. You can buy any kind of mirror you like (compact mirror, hand held mirror, desktop mirror, etc).

You can use your mirror for scrying or seeing into the future (divination).

When doing your mirror work, look into your eyes, and affirm to yourself. It can be anything you wish to say. Just let it flow naturally. It might feel uncomfortable at first but as you continue to practice it you will feel more confident about it.

Include your deity while affirming. (When I do this, I show appreciation to Aphrodite, and thank her for blessing me with such beauty and grace. Even when in the moment I don't have the results I wish to see, I know it is going to happen because I have faith in her.)

Ask your ancestors what their beauty rituals and regimes were. Doing routines that your ancestors did will create a closer bond with them and also build confidence in your ethnic features.

Items that are represented as love: roses, cinnamon, honey, sugar, vanilla, coriander, basil, chamomile, carnations, tulips, lockets, keys, & hearts

Items that are represented as beauty: cowrie shells, orchids, peony, ribbons, veils, & bows

Items that help enhance intuition: seashells, conch shells, rosemary, lotuses, & feathers

Chinese guashas & jade rollers help reduce stress, tension, and puffiness in your facial muscles. It can also help sculpt your face.

African waistbeads were worn by women under their clothes to help slim their waist and also attract love. Depending on the crystals used, it would also help manifest abundance.

Some beauty crystals used for love, beauty, & intuition are: Rose quartz, jade, pink tourmaline, moonstone, amethyst, selenite, garnet, carnelian, and turquoise.

You can carve sigils or symbols onto your candle, an easy one to use is the venus symbol ♀️.

A list of meanings for the scents of the candle, wax, or deodorizer in your home. Here is the list for incense.

Candles are great to seal your spell jars or use on their own for magick.

A list of different burning sticks you can use (smudging, white sage, and Palo Santo is a closed practice)

The scent of your perfume can be used for seduction or attracting love/popularity.

Soap, shampoo, or conditioner can be used to cleanse your energy.

Ingredients in foods, cleaning, haircare, skincare, or beauty products can have magical properties that you can attract towards you or your home. (I.E: Lavendar for peace & tranquility, Lemon for warding off negative energy, & Vanilla for love)

"The hair theory" trend is a form of glamour magick. Doing your hair differently can create a new persona and change how people perceive you.

Depending on your hair color it can represent the elements.

Your hair texture can symbolize what power you have: Coily hair grows upward and rises towards the sun. When using their awareness, they are highly observant and courageous. Coily hair has the fire element. Curly hair breaks hexes and spiritually protects the mind. Due to it's volume and resemblance to a cloud, it has the air element. People with wavy hair are intuitive, affectionate, and sensitive, their element is water. Straight hair is the most connected to the earth. People with this hair texture can be introverted, dependable, and grounded.

Your hair length signifies your current state of energy.

Short hair is connected to father sky.

Long hair is connected to mother earth.

It is best to cut your hair when you are in need of releasing stress, anguish, and turmoil.

You can set your intentions into the hair that you braid.

Black people can cornrow patterns or symbols onto their scalp for manifestation.

Locs symbolize freedom and wisdom from the ancestors.

Twists can be used for spiritual binding.

Read here for more on hair witchcraft & hair astrology.

Wearing headscarves, hijabs, bonnets, durags, or hats can protect you from the evil eye or if you're an empath, it can protect your energy from being drained in public spaces.

Do not make any physical changes during a Venus retrograde.

Plastic surgery can alter one's identity. It is like putting on a different mask. It can become an addiction to people who feel lost in life. While for others it can give them a new path to start on.

You can paint sigils or symbols for nail art.

The nail shape you have or get done at a salon can correspond to Onychomancy (https://www.tiktok.com/@taisoleil/video/7035737221068082479?_t=8etXLhtR3LH&_r=1)

You can also use yours or other's eyebrows for divination.

Straight eyebrows: someone who is level headed. Round eyebrows: someone who is compassionate with a kind heart. Arched eyebrows: someone who is independent. Thick eyebrows: someone who can be stubborn and goal oriented. Thin eyebrows: someone who is bold and daring. No eyebrows: someone who is a risk taker and can be careless. The unibrow: symbolizes good luck, fertility, & serendipity.

Your eyelashes are for good luck (which is why people make a wish on fallen lashes, they are similar to dandelions).

Different lash styles can be used as a "barricade".

Manga/spiked lashes: makes you appear pure & innocent, can get away with stuff more. Fluffy lashes: depending on the thickness, it can resemble a spider, therefore can cause someone to have a intensive aura. Cat/hybrid lashes: Increase in clairvoyance, see past the 3D, and have the senses of a feline. Natural lashes: The gaze will be comforting and welcoming to others, they can see into your soul.

Your eye color can mean what powers you have for spells. Colored contacts can create a different outcome.

Glasses can be used for insight and enlightenment. While sunglasses or shades, can make you more mysterious/hide your identity.

For those with periods, cycle syncing can help with increasing productivity.

Depending on your body shape, weight, & features it could symbolize your status in society.

In ancient Greece, people who were voluptuous with plump bellies were seen as healthy & rich. It was a sign of being well fed and treated like royalty.

In Africa & Southeast Asia, long necks signify having dignity & elegance.

Being tall could be seen as powerful, while being short could be seen as delicate. If you are average height, you could be seen as harmonious.

Physiognomy is the method of using the face & body for divination. In China, it is a popular method for readings.

Moles, birthmarks, & skin tags are believed to be the sign of being a Witch.

Vitiligo can mean spiritual purification & finding beauty in your imperfections.

It has been said that freckles are kisses from the angels. These people themselves can be described as earth angels or have a closer connection with archangels.

The form of your freckles can symbolize different things. If they form in a straight line, it could mean you are a focused person. If they are scattered, you like to go with the flow in life. If your freckles come and go during the seasons, you like to experience change or excitement often in your life.

Freckles & beauty marks overall show signs of a person having a unique character.

The clothing you wear can have a mystical effect.

Baggy/layered clothing: spiritually protective. Revealing clothing: free spirited & alluring. Patterned clothing: Makes you illusive or hard to decipher. Animal print clothing: embodies the energy of said animal (I.E: Tiger print would make you appear cunning & fierce). Colorful clothing: your spirit will seem more youthful & vivacious.

The shoes you wear can make you walk into new opportunities unexpectedly.

You can keep a piece of paper that has a spell in your shoes for good luck or attracting your desire.

Buying shoes and watches for your romantic partner is bad luck in hoodoo (Shoes can make someone walk out the door and leave forever. While watches can make someone look at the time they have left with you.)

Earrings can help you hear what others say about you or what gossip is going around. (I heard the most compliments the other day while wearing my gold hoops 💫)

A necklace that has a charm or crystal can be used as a tailsmans, amulet, or pendulum.

Wearing rings on which hand or finger could enhance your abilities.

The same way there is money bowls, you can also make love or beauty bowls, or even use your jewelry box.

You can use color magick when doing your makeup or choosing an outfit.

Primer, lotions/moisturizers, body butters, oils, and gels can be used for sigils.

Foundation is for stability and being secure with yourself.

Concealer "cloaks" or "veils" your weaknesses or insecurities.

Contour makes space and structure for your desire.

Eyeliner can be used as a tool. It wards off negative spirits & people with bad intentions.

In ancient Egypt, the use of Kohl represented rank and achievement.

Mascara can be used to give you a different perspective in things or make you more open minded.

Eyeshadow enhances your eyes & brings more depth or dimension. Makes your gaze hypnotic & enticing like a siren's.

Highlighter shines your best qualities.

Bronzer makes your presence more warm & friendly

Blush is for playfulness, youthfulness, flirtation, and vitality.

The lip product you use can speak your desires into fruition. It also make your words sound more beautiful. People will want to listen more because they will feel attracted to your voice.

Lip gloss: makes your intentions "stick" to you. Lipstick: Leaves a "mark" on your target (especially if it's someone you fancy 💋). Lip stain: makes your words have a permanent effect on people, they won't forget you. Flavored lip balms: makes your kisses addicting.

Powder enhances your spell & adds a touch of good luck.

Setting spray finishes the spell.

528 Hz is the frequency of love.

Listening to frequencies, music, & subliminals can attract your desires.

You can make a playlist for your deity or ancestors to channel messages from them.

Here are some celebrities who used mirror work or glamour magick to manifest:

Beyoncé's Renaissance album has themes of having a good self concept, knowing your worth, manifesting self love & abundance.

Marilyn Monroe used visualization & affirmations to manifest her beauty and fame: “I daydreamed chiefly about beauty. I dreamed of myself becoming so beautiful that people would turn to look at me when I passed.”

Michael Jackson would keep sticky notes and a diary full of affirmations in his room by his mirror: “I'm beautiful (4x). I'm gorgeous. [Bad..?] Is for me, who can be against me? I'm beautiful. I'm a new person now. Beautiful, knowing the secret, and determined with fire[?] to move mountains in all I do. Molding my own world. I'm beautiful. The old me is behind. I will much ahead anew. - MJ”

Alexa Demie stated in a interview with Vogue that she would say affirmations in the mirror daily in the morning and it helped her manifest clear skin: “I have beautiful, clear, acne-free, scar-free skin.”

Princess Nokia is a bruja and is well known for her constant change in appearance: “Casting spells with my cousins / I'm the head of this coven / I'm a shapeshifting bitch, you don't know who you loving.”

Thanks so much for reading, I wish you all the best of luck on your journey 🤍🤍🤍

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boydepartment · 3 months

Text

process- idol!park sunghoon x surgeon!reader

a/n: HIIIIII this was requested by @isawritesss i hope you like it <3

request: can i please ask for a very angsty idol!sunghoon x surgeon gf!reader where they get into a very big argument and she was already having a bad day at the ICU cause she had to perform a surgery on this lil kid and her mind wasn't in the right place and just needed him :( with comfort in the end like idk why but imma obsessed with angst and hurt comfort.

warnings: I AM NOT A DOCTOR but i tried my best into focusing more on the emotions side. i am not a stem student either SO I REALLY TRIED MY BEST i have no connection to work or training in this field!!! angst to comfort obviously. the reader and sunghoon use strong language but it’s all okay in the end

wc- 250-300 words

MASTERLIST

your day was rough to say the least. work was stressful and even if you helped save people’s lives you can also lose a couple in the process.

sometimes it’s too much and it hurts your mental even if you loved your job. it’s a lot a pressure.

today was exactly like that.

when you got home you saw that sunghoon was already home, smiling now because you barely get to see him home you wanted to talk to him.

“hey i didn’t know you were getting home early today?” you went to the fridge, turning around to see the back of his head unmoving.

“yeah.”

you took out a water bottle and opened it, “rough day?”

“yes.”

you walked over to the couch and sat next to him, “i’m sorry, my love.” you went to put your hand over his and he moved his hand.

sunghoon got like this sometimes but would normally just say he needed a breather and walk to your shared room for a bit.

he was usually good at talking to you.

“do you want a breather?” your voice was quiet.

sunghoon looked at you, “fucking obviously y/n. have i tried making any conversation with you since you got home?”

you looked at him, eyes narrowing, you were not going to take this after today, “maybe say that then! don’t act like it’s my fault! god forbid i talk to my boyfriend who’s barely fucking home!” you stood up and went to your shared bedroom slamming the door.

the stress from the day crashed with you when your knees and fits hit the floor. you started to weep quietly. not taking in the footsteps approaching the door.

“y/n?” sunghoon’s voice called out through the door, followed by soft knocks.

you stood up and wiped your face, “i don’t want to talk to you right now. you wanted to be left alone didn’t you?” you were hurt and your voice was evident in that fact. your feet carried you to the bathroom and you got changed as well as showered and washed up.

when you walked back into the shared bedroom you saw sunghoon sitting on your bed, you didn’t lock the door as that was a rule in your household. communication always came first.

he sat there looking defeating at his feet, “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to snap at you and it was my bad.”

you were about to speak but he spoke first

“i should’ve asked about your day and told you that i needed a bit.” he looked at you, “i disrespected you and im sorry.”

you walked over to him and sat down next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder and snaking your hand in his, “i accept your apology.”

“was your day okay?” sunghoon whispered, playing with your hands.

you shook your head no, “it… was really bad…” your voice broke again, sunghoon almost immediately pulled you down further into the bed and held you against him.

“i’m sorry… do you want to talk about it?”

you shook your head no, “maybe after i process it more…”

sunghoon nodded, “take as much time as you need okay?”

you nodded and kissed his jawline leaning into him more, his grip on your waist tightening, “tell me about yours i need a distraction.”

sunghoon sucked in a breath, “it was just a lot of work, we made progress though, um an engene broke into the company building, we went out to-“

“WHAT?” you sat up and looked at him. he started laughing and pulled you down to him.

“i’m lying. did it make you laugh though?”

you smacked his chest, “you’re horrible! i actually believed you!” your lips curled up and he took the opportunity to kiss you.

“i love you so much, i promise what happened earlier won’t happen again.” he whispered, “my job as your boyfriend is to keep you smiling.”

you nodded and kissed him again, “you can always talk to me too… i love you too…”

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donatellawritings · 2 months

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So anyway we can get something with Richie having a breeding kink obsession with his younger sweetheart of a girlfriend (who also works at The Bear) because we know Richie has a love hate relationship with kids. He loves his own but can’t stand other ankle biters lol and I can just see him wanting to make his girl a mother so they can have a little one that’s a mix of the two 😩💕🫶🏼

richie definitely has a breeding kink and i will not hear otherwise haha

explicit sexual content ahead

it was no secret that you belonged to richie, and vice versa. though, the fact that the big bad grump, richie jerimovich had managed to get such a drop-dead-gorgeous an sickeningly sweetheart of a girl like yourself under his arm still rang to be a shock to those around you. staggering age difference aside, some just weren’t able to wrap their heads around how a coupling like this even worked.

i mean, first of all, having a sweet, sometimes naive, girl like yourself working in a customer-service based environment was grounds for the ultimate ogling. you weren’t a stranger to the lewd comments that would be made about your body, or the copious amounts of advances that have been thrown your way by many of the male patrons that would visit the restaurant - some even making it their business to visit the beef, just for that brief two minute interaction with you. and with a boyfriend, like richie, you’d witnessed his jealous streak numerous times, the obnoxious boom of his voice spewing out a string of profanities now becoming a comfortable noise for you.

“fuckin’ jagoff almost creamed his fuckin’ pants, lookin’ at you,” richie muttered in disgust, hastily pulling you into his side as he pressed a quick kiss into the top of your head.

all you could do was playfully roll your eyes as richie continued his rant.

“m’gonna have to knock you up, so these fuckin’ dorks can leave you the fuck alone, huh?” richie spoke, matter-of-factly, leaving you stood with dumbfounded eyes as he pulled away, his eyes quickly falling to your stomach for a beat, before he made his way to the kitchen.

you see, you weren’t a hundred percent against having a baby with richie. sure, he wasn’t the most polished of men, but he was devoted to you and made sure that you were always smiling. in fact, the only thing that had kept you from being fully set on having a baby, was richie.

yes, richie loved his previous daughter, eva, with his entire being, but other kids? he despised. he hated the mess and chaos that came from kids whose parents held no authority, especially those who’d made his daughter cry at school. so, richie had been pretty stern about not wanting another hell-raiser running amuck in your guys’ household. that was, until he got a good look at you today, images of you round and full with his kid bringing a warmth to this chest.

plus, it didn’t hurt that the two of you would make a pretty adorable kid.

so, here you were, your back pressed flush against the mattress as richie feverishly rolled his hips into yours. cumming inside of you wasnt new to richie, hell, it was a very common occurrence, yet now he was fucking you with conviction - wanting nothing more than to knock you up.

“jesus, richie, fuck!” you cried, holding tightly onto his fluid waist, biting down into his clavicle as his hands tightened their grip on your hips, grinding his cock deeper into you.

he chuckled smugly, watching the small bump of his tip reaching your furthest parts rise and fall as he rutted into you, “y’gonna be such a pretty mommy, fuck-” he groaned, lost in the sound of your soppy wetness swallowing him in with each roll of his hips.

entirely too fucked out, you nod, unable to speak with your mouth hung open.

richie leaned down to give you a quick kiss, his pelvic bone now flush against yours as you let out a guttural cry, your head thrown back as the sensation of richie’s hot cum flows into you, “that’s it baby, gonna fuckin’ fill you up.”

#anon #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich imagine #richie jerimovich smut #asks

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princessslutt · 2 months

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I would love a maybank reader x rafe cameron, when jj finds out about their relationship. Like he gets really mad and says a mean thing to the reader and then walks out and Rafe is there to comfort her the entire time. When jj comes back Rafe make him understand how much he actually loves reader. Thanks<3

this absolutely SCREAMS jj. Thank you for requesting cause I loveee this!! 💗💗

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“rafe!!” you scream as you run into his big house, running up the staircase and pushing his door open.

“hey princess, what’s the matter, huh?” he says walking over to you and lifting your chin.

“he knows rafe! he’s gonna kill me!!” rafes eyes widen at that, because one thing about jayj, is he is gonna look out for his baby sister.

“hey, it’s alright, we can explain this to him, yeah?” you nod, your cheek pressed against his chest.

“where the fuck is he?” you hear someone yell, but at the sound of the tone, you know it’s jayj. You quickly run down stairs, and out the door before he can see you, as well as rafe.

Rafe goes to hide on his boat, while you go back to your house, going to your room and shutting off the lights to sleep.

After some time you hear the front door slam, waking you up when you hear footsteps coming from the staircase.

jayj pushes open your door and turns on the light “y/n, i know what you did, and frankly I’m not happy about it.”

you get open and walk over to him “jayj, I love him. There is simply nothing you can ever do to make me not love him.”

“You’re dating a dirty kook, for fucks sake y/n. They hate me and my friends, I can’t have them dating my baby sister.”

“Maybe you should be the kook princess, go be a dirty fucking kook, you’re a piece of shit.” He yells, slamming your door and walking back downstairs.

Your lip wobbles, tears already streaming down your face. You grab your things and walk down stairs and out the front door.

You run, until you reach the Cameron’s household. But you didn’t see rafe, he saw you first.

“woah there princess, you a’ight?” he says running towards you, holding you so you stop.

“no I’m not alright! He said a lot of dirty things to me and it really hurt my feelings.” You announced, sniffling and hugging him because you felt safer with him.

“okay, let’s go inside yeah? let’s get you a nap.” he says holding your hand and walking you into his house and up the stairs.

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˚˖𓍢ִ🩰✧˚.🐰୨୧ ⋅˚₊

#rafe cameron smut #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe obx #jj maybank #jj obx fic #jj obx #jj obx imagine

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seravphs · 10 months

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teen dad gojoverse

✧ sometimes a family is you, teen dad gojo, and the six year old child he accidentally orphaned | 10k fluff and angst

Gojo’s living that hard life as a single father at the tender age of 16, so to prevent Megumi from putting himself back up for adoption, you step in. It turns out that raising a child with someone can cause complicated feelings.

✧ i. tried to live in a softer way | 1.8k hurt/comfort

When Megumi gets injured on a mission, you realize you’re not capable of taking care of a child.

✧ ii. take me home where I belong | 1k hurt/comfort

Gojo realizes that adopting Megumi doesn’t just entail calling himself a DILF as a joke. It has responsibility. He doesn’t know how to live with that.

✧ interlude. 棠 | 1.5k fluff

Gojo has something to tell you. Megumi is unfortunately still a member of the male species. Tsumiki just wants to watch the sunset.

✧ iii. stockholm | 1.7k fluff and mild angst

The Zenins want Megumi. Gojo isn’t having it.

✧ extra. lucky to live a life to die for | 500 hurt/comfort

Child soldiers experience trauma.

✧ extra. if all we had were tender mornings | 2k fluff

Gojo has a black card but steals your coffee every morning anyways, or, domestic bliss in the household of a man whose love language is disgusting displays of wealth.

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mviswidow · 9 months

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who you are is not where you've been

Blackhill x ex-hydra!daughter!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: After a triggering nightmare about R’s past, her mothers comfort her.

Contents: hurt/comfort, dark nightmare, talk of kidnapping, angst, fluff, Nat and Maria being amazing adopted mothers

From this request.

the title is a reference to taylor swift's innocent

You raced after your target as fast as your feet would carry you. The young girl reminded you of yourself when you’d first been brought to Hydra. She fought hard and was determined to get away from you, but it wasn’t long before you’d cornered her in an alleyway with a dead end.

Her cries for help made your ears ring, and you would have given anything for her to just shut up. You could feel guilt weighing heavily on your chest. It was crushing. You were about to confine this little girl to a life of misery, just like your own.

Your body felt like it was on fire, every instinct you had was telling you to turn around and leave her there, to let her go, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. You pointed your gun at her as you dialed a number on a burner phone, giving the person on the other end your location.

The poor girl cried with all her might, tears streaming down her face. You felt like you were going to be sick. You wished she’d been able to get away from you somehow.

She shrank back until she was against the fence behind her just when you felt a hand on your arm. You kept the gun pointed at her steadily as you took a quick glance over your shoulder.

“You’ve done it again, great work.”

You woke from your nap with a start when you heard a beeping sound. Your chest was heaving. You looked around to check your surroundings and your breath started to even out upon realizing you were safe on the living room couch and your moms were in the kitchen making dinner. The microwave had just gone off.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Natasha came over when she saw that you’d sat up and were awake, running her fingers through your hair tenderly. “You knocked out at the end of the movie. How was your nap?”

“It was okay,” you nodded, avoiding her gaze. “I’m going to wash up before we eat.”

You needed to clear your head before you sat with them for dinner. There was no way they wouldn’t be able to tell something was up and the last thing you wanted to do was to put your problems on them.

Upon locking the door to the bathroom, your eyes began to tear up. You groaned quietly and pressed the heels of your hands to your shut eyes, willing yourself not to cry. You did your best to steady your breathing and stay quiet, but it wasn’t long before you were choking back sobs while sitting on the cold tile floor.

Your dreams were often plagued by the haunting memories of your past, being controlled by Hydra since your early childhood. You were horrified by what you were capable of. It pained you to think that you had subjected kids to being tormented and ruined their lives. They hadn’t done anything to deserve that. And it was often difficult to convince yourself that you deserved to live in the loving household that you now did, because how could you when many of the kids you’d been assigned to capture probably still worked for Hydra?

Your eyes shot open when you heard a quiet knock on the door. You bit down on one of your knuckles, trying to stifle the sob threatening to leave your throat.

“You alright, kiddo?” Maria’s voice sounded.

You didn’t say anything out of fear of embarrassing yourself, afraid of whatever noise would come out.

“Can I come in?”

She took the sound of the door unlocking as a ‘yes’ and opened it slowly, sitting down beside you.

“What’s wrong, hm?” she murmured, putting her strong arm around your shoulders.

You turned into her embrace, wrapping your arms around her waist as tightly as you could while your body racked with sobs.

Maria held you close and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m right here, sweetheart.”

Natasha’s footsteps went unheard but she made herself known when she put a gentle hand on your back, doing her best to help soothe you.

Your tears fell freely, but the presence of your mothers was beginning to make you feel better. You were getting ahold of your breathing, matching yours to Maria’s.

Once you were calmer, you moved yourself to sit up with your back to the wall and Natasha was now in front of you, tutting when she saw your tear-stained face and your nose red from crying, “What’s got you so upset, honey?” she asked as she leaned forward to wipe your tears away with her thumbs.

You took a couple of breaths before attempting to respond to her, and while you did so, you realized not many people would be able to understand your feelings the way she might.

“How did… how did you forgive yourself?” Your voice broke as you spoke, fresh tears beginning to fall. “After everything I’ve done,” you shook your head. “I don’t deserve - I can’t - I’m a monster -”

“No, hey,” Natasha took your hand in hers before speaking softly, “You’re working yourself up again. Please don’t talk like that.”

You put your head down and pinched the bridge of your nose as Natasha sat in shock for a couple of seconds, surprised by your question.

It wasn’t often that the Black Widow cried, but as she saw you in your distress, reminding her so much of herself, she couldn’t help it when her eyes started watering.

She looked to her wife for a moment, and when their eyes met, it was clear they were thinking the same thing. Maria could not count the number of times she’d heard Natasha describe herself as a monster.

There were many nights Maria had held Natasha as she cried, feeling like she could never make up for everything she had done. She still felt that way sometimes. Like nothing could be enough for all the lives she’d taken or destroyed.

But you? You might be enough. Natasha felt more sure of that every day. The love she had for you consumed her. It came with an innate need to protect you. Getting to love you felt like healing from her past, something she once never thought she’d feel.

You had a long emotional journey ahead of you in order to come to terms with the reality, which was that you were a victim of circumstance, just like Natasha was. Neither of you asked for the hand of cards you were dealt, but you had to play them.

“Why don’t we go to the couch and talk about this there? Let’s get you off the floor,” the redhead suggested, helping you up.

As you made your way to the couch with Natasha, Maria went to the fridge and brought you water, which you took gratefully.

You sat between your mothers, busying yourself by fidgeting with the edges of the blanket, not feeling too inclined to look at them while you felt so vulnerable, preparing yourself to start speaking. “I have a lot of dreams about my time being controlled by Hydra, some can be really bad.”

Your mind raced as you mulled over how much you were going to tell them. You hadn’t spoken very much about what happened to you while you were being controlled by Hydra. You figured they knew enough from reading your file and Natasha being there when you were taken into custody by SHIELD.

Still, there was a lot you didn’t want them to know. You were ashamed of yourself and terrified that they may not look at you the same way after they knew what you’d decided to tell them.

“I was mostly assigned to kidnappings for Hydra,” A lump grew in your throat as you spoke. “I was having a nightmare about this one girl named Marcy, she was the youngest target I ever had. She was also the last.” You could feel the anxiety you were having in every part of your body. You weren’t sure what you expected them to say but the longer they said nothing the more anxious you became.

“You aren’t going to start forgiving yourself until you’re able to acknowledge that what happened was not all your fault,” Natasha finally said, which made your brow furrow.

When you didn’t say anything, she continued, “You know you didn’t do any of the things you did because of your own volition. Hydra was using a formula very similar to the one the Red Room utilized. You weren’t able to make any decisions yourself. Until you’re able to let up on yourself and come to accept this, you won't be forgiving yourself anytime soon.”

You stayed silent for a couple of seconds before nodding, “I’ve never not blamed myself.”

Natasha offered a soft smile, “I know how that feels. It took me a very long time to get to where I am now. And a lot of help from Maria.”

“And you have both of us every step of the way,” Maria chimed in.

Your eyes watered as the corners of your lips turned up, “Thank you. I love you guys so much.”

Natasha pulled you in for a hug and it seemed like she needed it almost as much as you did, “We love you too. More than you know.”

When you pulled away you turned and hugged Maria, “Thanks for finding me.”

The brunette shrugged with a soft smile, “Of course. But next time why don’t you let us know when something’s bothering you? You scared us there.”

“I’ll try my best. I’m still getting used to the whole asking for help thing. I’m sorry.”

“Ehh, that’s alright. We both know what it’s like to be a little emotionally stunted,” Maria snickered.

Natasha rolled her eyes and playfully kicked Maria’s shin, pretending to be annoyed by her comment as you laughed.

Everything was going to be okay.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #maria hill #maria hill x reader #black widow #mcu #cobie smulders #marvel #scarlett johansson #blackhill #blackhill x reader #blackhill x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x maria hill #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #maria hill x daughter!reader #teen!daughter!reader

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