#I don’t know I just really appreciate it looking at it again

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two

It’s dark. The window is still open, but the chillier air is kind of nice on Eddie’s flushed skin.

The clean bedding is nice too; Eddie tries to remember the last time he appreciated something as nice as clean sheets and draws a blank.

Probably when he still lived with Wayne. Probably before they made it big. Probably before the partying started.

Eddie picks up his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. He presses it.

Wayne doesn’t pick up. Eddie’s not surprised, not really.

He tries Chris; she doesn’t answer either.

Likewise Gareth.

He doesn't bother calling Jeff.

There’s no one else in his phone; Chrissy took it all away when Eddie couldn’t differentiate between a friend a dealer or a booty call.

Like the worst Marie Kondo ever, Chrissy had held up the hundreds of friends Eddie had in his phone, one by one, ‘does this spark joy?’

No. Sometimes sucked his dick, though.

Eddie has money though. He twirls his phone on his chest, flipping it from long edge to short. There’s always somewhere open. Flip. Flip. Flip.

Not like anyone's answering him right now anyway. They’ve just left him here. With fucking Steve. It’s just one time anyway, he wouldn’t get away with it more than once. Chrissy would put him on proper lock down if she found out. Probably shove him back in the clinic.

So...just once.

One last go. And then he’d quit for sure. He hasn’t touched it for months, so he’s pretty much proved he can do it, anyway.

Eddie gets dressed. Finds cash balled up in random places.

Eddie stands in the doorway. Look up at the stars and then across the lawn at the security gates. He hasn’t had so much as a cigarette in nearly half a year. This is fine.

“Where you going, Eddie?”

Eddie sighs. Fucking busted. Still, “no where you need to worry about.”

“Uh hu.”

“Look, I’m not on house arrest okay? I can go out, I’m a grown fucking man.”

“You totally are. You want to go out, you go for it. No skin off my nose.”

Eddie whirls, shocked, “what the fuck? Aren’t you supposed to try and stop me from doing dumb shit?”

Steve raises the eyebrow, “so you admit it’s dumb?” He looks sleep rumpled, wearing sweats and a white tee shirt.

Walked right into that one. “You’re dumb.”

The face again. The totally schooled features that are utterly professional and give absolutely nothing away and yet...somehow...he’s laughing at Eddie. Eddie can feel it.

“So you go out,” Steve saunters over, stands next to Eddie, bare toes curling over the doorstep, “you score or drink or do whatever it is you’re aiming to do. Then what?”

“Then what,” Eddie mimics, all bitchy, “I’ll come home, and I’ll sober up, and it won’t change a fucking thing,” Eddie bites out.

“You think? You’ve had sober spells before, is that how it’s gone in the past?”

Eddie takes a deep breathe, because no, no that is not how it’s fucking gone in the past, “this time is different.”

“Is it?” Steve asks, completely fucking nonchalant, “how so?”

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to punch someone so bad in all his life. Imagines it viscerally, Steve's fucking head cracking on the door frame while he slumps to the floor in a bloody heap.

Eddie does not do that, obviously.

“Look, I’ll come home, we don’t do anything about it, you still get paid, sound good?”

“I get paid either way,” Steve shrugs one shoulder, because he’s a cunt. “This is how a lot of addicts die, did you know that?”

“What?” Eddie asks, startled by the left turn.

“Yeah, get out of rehab, think their tolerance is still the same, get back on it…” he doesn’t bother to finish.

“That won’t happen to me.”

“Oh yeah, right. Of course. Because you’re Eddie Munson, sorry, sorry, forgot a second there.”

Eddie takes two thumping angry steps into the yard and just...just fucking screams at the sky. Just...roars at nothing. This is shit. It’s so shit. Everything is shit. And Eddie nearly fucking died last time and there’s no escaping that fact. There’s no help. There’s no point to any of this. There’s just pain and fucking misery and something clawing at Eddie’s insides trying to get out.

He roars until he’s hoarse. Until he can’t any more. Until his chin is wet with spit and he feels week and rung out.

He sits on his ass on the cold, dewy lawn.

Steve is still standing in the doorway, he doesn’t look like he’s moved at all. If he’s at all bothered by Eddie’s little meltdown, he isn’t showing it.

“Why did you want to go?” Steve asks finally, "did something change?"

Eddie shrugs, he’s got nothing, not really. No real reason past just wanting to get fucked up. Because it feels good. Because he likes it.

“Okay, what’s worth staying for?”

Eddie makes a dismissive ‘pfffft’, made croaky by his fucked out voice.

“They always say you need to do these things for yourself,” Eddie glares at Steve, because that's some dumb shit right there. Always had it in therapy though. Self worth. Mindfulness. Living in the moment and being proud of what you’ve already achieved and every journey starts with a single step and all that other bull shit they try and feed you. “I know. I agree. When you...feel like you’re nothing, you’re not worth any effort. It’s the hardest time. So pick someone else. Who can you do it for?”

“They don’t care,” Eddie croaks, “they didn’t answer,” he pulls his phone out, flips it onto the grass.

“Who?”

“Chris. Wayne.”

“Okay, give me a good reason why Wayne didn’t answer? That’s your uncle, right?”

“Yeah he...he could be at work,” Eddie admits quietly. Eddie’s given Wayne money. Well, practically forced it on him. Set him up with a nice place; or at least as nice as he could talk Wayne into. Wayne doesn’t believe in free loading though. Eddie’s convinced him to do less hours, but he still works nights two or three times a week. Claims it’s ninety percent of his social life, or some shit like that.

“Okay, and Chris?”

Eddie shrugs, embarrassment over his outburst making him petulant now.

“Eddie, what time is it where Chris is, right now?”

Eddie sighs up at the stars. It’s the middle of the fucking night, “late. Early. I guess.”

“Okay. So they’re not ignoring you, they’re just living their lives like normal human beings. Come on, get up, your ass is gonna be wet.”

“And do what?” Eddie snaps, “what’s the fucking point.” It’s not a question.

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

“It was a tough time, you know? Like, life sucks hard sometimes. Music helps. My favorite is The Wilds, you know? You heard that one?” The interviewer mumbles something indistinguishable, “it’s kind of...like the bit about the shining sea, you know? How like, it’s so beautiful, but it’s fucking hard to sail on. Or like how the mountains are so beautiful, but if you go up there alone, you’re gonna’ die, right? So I think...like how insignificant, and meaningless my life is, in like, the grand scheme of things, but like...that makes what you do even more important, right? Like, it means more, when you choose to be...I dunno,” the kid with a million piercings shrugs, “like just be good to each other, you know?”

“That’s not even remotely what that song is about,” Eddie mumbles at the laptop monitor.

Behind him, Steve snorts a laugh, “well that kid thinks it is.”

Another kid, more makeup than the whole of Kiss slathered on her face, “I just think it has meaning, you know?” The interviewer mumbles something again, “oh my favorite?” A lip bitten in thought, she looks at the sky for inspiration, it’s sunset, Eddie figures. Lots of similarly dressed kids in the background. Takes him a second to realize this was filmed outside of a gig, or something like that. “It’s hard to pick, but if I gotta’, it’s definitely Double Down. Those lyrics are just...Eddie Munson is just...he’s a fucking genius, you know?” She frowns, “but also really fucking dumb soemtimes, I hope he’s okay.”

“I didn’t even write that one. Jeff wrote most of that. On napkins, I think. I just...worked it together.”

Another kid, saying how important Corroded Coffin are; how they helped this kid through hard times. Honestly it’s a difficult watch, Eddie has no fucking clue where Steve even found this, and when Eddie’s phone rings he jumps on it, glad of an excuse to slap the screen of the laptop closed.

“Hi, Eddie! You called, sorry it’s early I got up to go for a run-”

“No. No, it’s fine, I...I shouldn’t have called you so late. Early. You were probably sleeping.”

“That’s okay, of course it’s okay, it’s nice you called me,” she snickers, “you never call me.”

That’s true, and Eddie feels bad. It’s always Chrissy chasing after Eddie. Trying to keep a lid on him...trying to keep him safe. He was always the one dodging her. “Yeah, sorry…” Eddie gets up so he can walk away from Steve, tail between his legs he slinks into the hall, he vows, “I’ll try and do better.”

“Good, how are you feeling? Hows your rut?”

Eddie is not fucking admitting that he just had a breakdown and nearly fucked it all up in the middle of the night. No fucking way is he admitting that, “yeah...yeah, just...couldn’t sleep, you know? I guess the rut...still going. Feels weird.”

Eddie can hear Chris moving around, figures she has him on speaker or something, “uh hu, that’s because you haven’t cycled a proper rut in like, four years honey, these things take time to settle. Is Steve doing okay? You’re not being a cunt to him are you?”

“Well I’ve only thought about punching him,” something jogs in Eddie’s mind, “Chrissy, what happened to the cleaning lady?”

“Oh...we did talk about it honey but you weren't really...taking it in, I don’t think-”

“I was fucked up.”

“Yeah...but she…”

“Just say it.”

“The...you know, the vomit. You were constantly trashing the place. She was worried she was...well she was mostly scared she was going to walk in one day and find your body.”

“Oh.” Eddie slumps down on the bottom step, “that sucks. I liked her.”

“Don’t worry, her final pay was incredible. She got a really impressive bunch of flowers.”

“Oh...well. Thank you. For sorting that.” Eddie’s eyes feel wet. His lip wobbles a little, but he holds it in. He’s got no right to guilt about that, not now. “The place looks okay though, I think Steve’s been cleaning some.”

“Yeah, probably, he seems like a good guy.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, but the first tear breaks free and he knows he can’t hide it much longer, “go on your run.”

“Okay, speak later?”

“Yeah, course.”

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s so great to hear you sounding more like yourself, I missed you so much.”

Eddie hangs up, draws his knees up to his chest, the material of his sweats already darkened with tears.

[bootycallin]

hi period sex w vi cuz im on my period and needy <3 cw: wlw men fuck off. obviously period sex. this is messy and nasty, don’t like it don’t read it. obv blood. vi lowkey has a blood kink. lotsa titty loving. u cry a little. lowkey projecting. not proofread.

vi knows exactly when your period happens. she just does.

when your legs start aching and you complain about your chest being sore when she tries to lay on it and you’re snappier and more emotional than usual, she knows. so, of course, she takes that as a chance to spoil you. buys you a bunch of chocolate and sweets and cups or entire body with her arms when you’re sleeping.

one little problem, though, are the cramps. she herself has never really experienced them. most the time she’s just achey and sensitive, but you? you’re constantly complaining of cramps, doubling over while standing, a hand on your lower belly. you often tried to tell her, it’s just fine. but she can’t handle it. what? she’s a good girlfriend, she can’t handle seeing her baby in pain!

oh, and most of all, vi’s a sexual creature. her libido’s not insane, but it’s pretty damn high. she could’ve sworn her sex drive lowered significantly the last time she broke up with someone, but then you came around and she’s in puberty all over again.

and she couldn’t care less if you’re bleeding. they say sex relieves cramps, right?

when she starts kissing you, all tongue and teeth and spit, she’s already wet. it’s been, what, three days without sex? she should be able to handle it, but ever since she started dating you, she’s a fucking machine (no pun intended). literally anywhere. bed, couch, bathroom, kitchen island, counter, balcony. any place around the house is game to her. she claims she’s just “appreciating her treasure”, which… is she not?

her hands are roaming, squeezing and squishing any bit of soft skin, fingertips pressing into your flesh, groaning into your mouth. she’s between your legs, her torso on the lower half of your own. her hand slips under your shirt, sneaky, big palm resting on your breast and squeezing the plump flesh. it pulls a moan from you, a whimpery noise. it was pleasure that slightly mixed with pain, breasts extra sensitive and swollen—hell, vi loves it.

“vi—“ your breath hitched, just briefly pulling away to catch your breath.

“sshh.” she shushes you. her tongue peeks out from her lips to lick the seam of your own, seeking entrance and muffling the moan you let out with her own lips. her fingers squeeze, squish, thumbs running over sensitive and pebbled nipples in a way that makes you pull away from her just to throw your head back and moan.

“baby.” vi practically growled—it’s like she’s a rabid animal or something. she tugs at your nipples, relishing in the way you whine and cry. your small hands grasp at her wrists, trying to slow her down.

“vi, wait…!” you cry out. it’s too much. she’s just barely started with you and you’re almost crying—she knew you got sensitive during this time, but she didn’t know it was so much. cute.

she did stop; with a considerable amount of effort, might you add. her fingers let go of your nipples just to push your shirt up, until your pretty tits showed to her. vi’s just obsessed with how they look, pretty puffy nipples perking, shape swollen due to hormones. not that your body’s any less perfect when you’re not on your period, but she can’t help appreciating when your body changes and you look just as fucking good.

vi pressed a quick, butterfly kiss to one of your tits, kissing the other one, then down your sternum. she kissed down your tummy, lower, until she was right above your pussy. she felt like a feral animal. she swore she could smell you. it’s like her entire brain chemistry just immediately changes when she’s next to your cunt, and she immediately can only think of pushing her tongue inside you.

“vi, wait,” you stop her just as her fingers hook under your loose shorts, under the band of your panties. “you know i’m—“

“i don’t fucking care, princess,” vi muttered, almost sounding dangerous, she pulled your shorts down, tugging your legs up to remove them and then putting your legs over her shoulders, face to face with your cunt. you’re wet, and you have to blame it on hormones, because there’s no way you can get this wet thinking of your girlfriend eating you out while you—

you can’t really complain because she was quickly pulling your panties to the side, pressing her tongue flat against your puffy, red folds with a downright pornographic moan.

your hand flew down to grab at her hair, tugging slightly. her sounds are nearly ferocious and she all but rips your panties off of your body. her tongue is quick, licking and lapping up blood and juices alike now without a pad covering it. it's nasty. messy and so fucking good.

"sh-shii— viii..." you drag her name out, a near sob ripping form your throat. she's not listening, drunk on how you taste. blood covers her lips, and she couldn’t give less of a fuck. she just laps it up like some sort of messier vampire, almost embarrassing enthusiasm. hungry, savoring the metallic taste that’s coyingly sweet to her, shoving her tongue into your slick home and holding your thighs open as they try to close around her on instinct.

shit, she’s not stopping anytime soon. not until you’re melting and all she can taste is you.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

[navi-the-flying-bee]

Valentine's day

(a/n): okay. I know i am VERY late,but to arrive late is better than not arriving. So... Forgive me?

Characters: Atsushi, Fukuzawa, Dazai, Fyodor, Mori, Chuuya, Ranpo, Poe, Nikolai.

Warnings: use of y/n. This took me too long but mostly because i had writing block while writing it (which was a month ago? Or two?) then i had to drag myself to continue it.

Nakajima atsushi

Valentine’s Day at the Armed Detective Agency was… chaotic.

Not that you were expecting anything less.

You had no real plans for the day. romance wasn’t exactly your forte. You were more of a “wait until the 15th and buy discounted chocolate” kind of person. But apparently, Ranpo had figured that out.

And that was a mistake.

“You’re telling me,” he said, eyes gleaming like he had just solved the world’s greatest mystery, “that you, didn’t think ahead about Valentine’s Day? How tragic.”

You groaned, burying your face in your scarf. “Leave me alone. It’s a capitalist trap.”

Ranpo took a slow, exaggerated bite of the expensive chocolate he had somehow acquired (probably by guilting Kunikida into buying it for him). “Ooooh, Kunikida’s gonna lecture you again.”

And just as he said that-

“Y/N!”

You flinched.

There he was. Kunikida Doppo, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, looking every bit like a disappointed teacher about to give a very long lecture.

“As a member of the Agency, you should have at least some consideration for your coworkers,” he scolded. “Valentine’s Day is about appreciation, not just romance.”

You nodded. “Understood.”

Kunikida blinked. “...Wait. Really?”

“Yeah,” you said, already sidestepping toward the exit, “I’ll write you all a heartfelt letter about how much I appreciate you later. Sound good? Okay, bye-”

“come back here-!”

You turned too fast and crashed right into Atsushi.

“Oh!, I was actually looking for you,” he said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “I got you something.”

You blinked. “...For me?”

Atsushi held out a small box of chocolates, tied with a golden ribbon.

“Well… yeah,” he said, smiling shyly. “You always make sure everyone’s okay, so I figured you deserved something too.”

Your heart melted a little. “That’s-” You shook your head. “Atsushi, that’s unfair. Now I feel bad for not getting you anything.”

“No, no! It’s not about that,” he said quickly. “I just wanted to. You don’t owe me anything.”

You stared at him for a moment before smiling softly. “...Thank you.”

And that’s when it happened.

From across the room, Dazai smirked.

“How sweet,” he teased. “Ciel, did you just get a confession?”

You choked on your own words. “I- NO. Dazai, stop.”

Atsushi, now bright red, waved his hands wildly. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

Dazai, clearly enjoying the chaos, dramatically clutched his chest. “Ah, young love! So pure, so fleeting-”

Ranpo, still munching on chocolate, leaned over. “Ten bucks says Kunikida tries to shut him up in the next five minutes.”

You scoffed. “Two minutes.”

And sure enough.

“DAZAI, GET BACK TO WORK.”

Fukuzawa Yukichi

Look. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to give President Fukuzawa something for Valentine’s Day. You just… didn’t know what.

I mean, what do you give someone so wise, composed, and effortlessly cool?

You couldn’t just hand him some cheap chocolates and call it a day.

“Just write him a letter,” Atsushi had suggested.

“Or get him cat-themed tea,” Ranpo had added with his usual knowing smirk. “He’ll love it.”

And that was how you ended up standing outside Fukuzawa’s office, holding a neatly wrapped box of cat-shaped tea bags (shoutout to Yosano for the shopping advice) and a small letter.

You hesitated.

What if this was weird? What if this was too much? What if he thought you were trying too hard?

Before you could spiral any further, the door slid open.

Fukuzawa looked down at you, calm as always. “y/n?”

You straightened up. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sir.”

His gaze shifted to the gift in your hands. “For me?”

“Uh… yeah.” You hesitated before handing it over. “It’s nothing special, just some tea. And, um, a letter. You don’t have to read it or anything-”

Fukuzawa accepted the gift with a small nod. “Thank you.”

You exhaled. “Oh. Cool. Okay.”

You turned to leave when-

“I will read it.”

You froze. “Huh?”

Fukuzawa regarded you thoughtfully. “You are an expressive person. If you took the time to write something, it must have meaning.”

Oh.

Your face suddenly felt warm. “I- Uh- Yeah, I guess so.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, in an uncharacteristically soft tone, he added:

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

…

Did you just get praised by the President of the Armed Detective Agency?!

Atsushi and Kunikida found you five minutes later, sitting in the hallway, staring into space.

“She looks like she just saw a mythical creature,” Atsushi whispered.

“She basically did,” Ranpo replied, grinning.

Dazai Osamu

You messed up.

The second you hesitated in front of Dazai’s desk, you sealed your fate. Because that was all the invitation he needed to turn your day into a performance.

“Ohhh?” His eyes lit up with the thrill of chaos. “Could it be? y/n-chan, are you giving me a Valentine’s gift?”

And that was when you knew.

You were done for.

“No,” you deadpanned.

“What’s that in your hand, then?”

“Nothing.”

Dazai gasped. Full, dramatic, hand-to-chest levels of betrayal. “A confession?! Oh, Ciel, I’m flattered! But you should know, my heart belongs to the endless embrace of-”

“It’s chocolate, Dazai.”

He stopped mid-monologue. Just froze.

“Eh?”

With the patience of someone who had long accepted their suffering, you dropped the small box onto his desk.

“It’s just chocolate. Because it’s Valentine’s Day. And because if I didn’t get you something, you’d be insufferable about it.”

Dazai picked up the box, turning it over in his hands like it held the secrets of the universe. “So this is how much I mean to you, huh?”

“Do you want it or not?”

“Oh, I want it.” His smirk returned, far too pleased with himself. “I just didn’t expect you to be so bold”

You saw red. “I swear to God-”

“Did you put poison in it?”

“No, but I should have.”

“Ah, how cruel!” He collapsed against his desk like a tragic widow. “To think, my dear Ciel-chan, the one person I trusted, has betrayed me so—”

So you threw a piece of chocolate at his forehead.

It hit with a satisfying thud.

“Just eat it and shut up.”

And that should have been the end of it.

But then, Dazai looked at you, a real smile tugging at his lips.

Not the teasing kind. Not the act.

A small, genuine one.

“Thank you.”

…And for some reason-

That threw you off way more than the flirting.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

You weren’t sure why you were doing this.

Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was stupidity. Maybe it was some self-destructive impulse that made you think, Wouldn’t it be interesting to see how Fyodor Dostoevsky reacts to a Valentine’s gift?

So now you were here. In a dimly lit room. Sitting across from him.

Fyodor watched you with an unreadable expression, fingers tapping lightly against his teacup. “A gift? For me?”

His voice was smooth, polite-like he already knew your intentions and was simply indulging you.

You cleared your throat and placed a small box on the table. “Yeah. It’s… nothing special. Just chocolate.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Ah. How thoughtful.”

He picked up the box, examining it with unsettling amusement. “Tell me,” he mused, violet eyes gleaming, “is this an act of goodwill? Or do you simply wish to see how I would respond?”

You hesitated. Damn it. He saw through you so fast.

“I mean…” You leaned back, crossing your arms. “Maybe both.”

Fyodor chuckled. “Honest. How refreshing.”

He unwrapped the box with deliberate slowness, as if savoring the moment. “You intrigue me,” he admitted, plucking one of the chocolates between his fingers. “A human with a unique power… yet you walk willingly into the lion’s den.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you’re the lion?”

He smiled. a slow, knowing smile. “And what else would I be?”

Oh.

Oh.

You suddenly felt very, very aware of the fact that you had voluntarily given Fyodor Dostoevsky a Valentine’s gift. This was probably a bad idea.

He took a bite of the chocolate, his gaze never leaving yours. Then, tilting his head slightly, he asked:

“Tell me, … do you believe in fate?”

Your pulse quickened. “That depends,” you said carefully. “Are you about to make me regret this?”

Fyodor chuckled again, slow and deliberate. “Perhaps,” he murmured. “Or perhaps… this is just the beginning.”

You swallowed. Yeah. This was definitely a bad idea.

Mori Ougai

You would never give Mori Ougai a Valentine’s gift. Ever.

It wasn’t even about him being the leader of the Port Mafia-hell, you’d already given Fyodor chocolate, and he was arguably worse. No, Mori was just… dangerous in a different way.

The kind of dangerous that smiled too kindly while pulling the strings behind the scenes.

So imagine your absolute horror when you walked into your regular café, to your daily table and found a beautifully wrapped gift box waiting for you.

With a card.

Signed: Mori Ougai.

…You stared.

No. No, no, no. This was bad.

You immediately turned on your heel-only to find Mori standing right behind you.

“Going somewhere, y/n-chan?” he asked pleasantly.

You barely stopped yourself from jumping. “Nope.”

Mori smiled. Too kindly. “I heard you were handing out gifts today, so I thought I should return the favor.”

“…I didn’t give you anything.”

“Not yet.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’m never giving you anything.”

Mori sighed dramatically. “Ah, so cruel. Even after I went through all this trouble?”

Your gaze flicked to the box. Suspicious. “Is it poisoned?”

He chuckled. “Now, now, what kind of man do you take me for?”

“The exact kind who would absolutely poison a gift.”

Mori only laughed. “It’s nothing dangerous, I promise. Just a small token of my appreciation.”

Yeah, right. That sounded ten times worse.

“…Appreciation for what?”

“For being so interesting, of course.” His smile widened. Too wide. “I do hope we continue to cross paths.”

You picked up the box like it might explode.

“Great. That’s definitely not ominous.”

Mori simply chuckled, stepping away. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my dear.”

You decided right then and there that you were never opening that box.

Nakahara Chuuya

You had debated this for days.

Giving Chuuya Nakahara a Valentine’s gift? Risky.

He wasn’t exactly the romantic type... well, not in the cheesy way, at least. And honestly? You weren’t even sure if he’d want chocolate from you.

But after hours of overthinking, you finally decided: screw it.

Worst case scenario? He’d mock you and move on.

Best case scenario? …Well, you weren’t sure yet.

So here you were, standing outside Mafia HQ, clutching a small bag of premium dark chocolate truffles and second-guessing your entire existence.

Before you could change your mind, the door swung open.

Chuuya stepped out.

And paused immediately when he saw you.

You blinked. “…Oh.”

He frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“I-” You hesitated, then just shoved the bag at him. “Here.”

Chuuya looked down at it, confused. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s-” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “It’s chocolate, okay? For Valentine’s Day.”

Chuuya stared.

Then, slowly, his lips curled into an amused smirk.

“Well, well,” he drawled, taking the bag. “Didn’t take you for the type to hand out gifts.”

You groaned. “If you’re gonna make this weird-”

“Nah.” He shook his head, opening the bag and popping a truffle into his mouth.

Immediately, his eyes widened.

“…Shit. This is actually good.”

You crossed your arms. “Of course it is.”

Chuuya chewed thoughtfully, then glanced at you. Something unreadable flickered in his gaze.

“…Tch.” He looked away, a little flustered. “Thanks, I guess.”

You blinked. “Wait, did you just-”

“I swear to god, don’t make a big deal out of it.”

You grinned. “You totally just-”

“Shut up.”

You laughed, watching as he pointedly refused to meet your eyes.

For someone so tough.

He sure was easy to fluster.

Ranpo Edogawa

You should have known this would happen.

Giving Ranpo Edogawa chocolate on Valentine’s Day? That was practically signing up to be made fun of for the rest of your life.

But at this point, you’d already given chocolate to Dazai, Chuuya and Fyodor (questionable life choices). What was one more?

So you marched up to Ranpo’s desk, dropped the small box of sweets in front of him, and crossed your arms.

“Here.”

Ranpo didn’t even glance up from his snacks. “Oho? A bribe?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, you idiot.”

He finally looked up, grinning like the little menace he was. “So… a confession?”

You rolled your eyes so hard you saw the ceiling. “It’s just chocolate. Don’t make this weird.”

Ranpo picked up the box, turning it in his hands with a thoughtful hum. His green eyes twinkled like he was already three steps ahead of you.

“Hmmm… I already knew you were gonna give me some, of course.”

“Sure you did.”

“I did! After all, I’m the greatest detective in the world.”

You smirked, leaning forward. Oh, you were gonna enjoy this.

“Okay then, Mr. Detective.” You crossed your arms. “What flavor is it?”

Ranpo blinked.

You saw the exact moment the gears in his head stuttered.

“…What?”

“You heard me.” Your smirk widened. “If you’re sooo smart, you should already know what kind of chocolate it is.”

He squinted at the box like it might reveal its secrets if he stared hard enough. Then-without breaking eye contact. he popped the box open and ate one.

“Hazelnut.”

Your jaw dropped. “You-”

“See?” He grinned, smug as hell. “Told you I knew.”

“YOU JUST TASTED IT.”

“Still counts.”

You groaned, resisting every violent urge in your body.

“I should’ve given it to Kunikida instead.”

Ranpo was already reaching for another chocolate. “Nah. You like me too much for that.”

You did not dignify that with a response.

Edgar Allen Poe

You hadn’t originally planned to give Poe a Valentine’s gift.

Not because you didn’t like him. Poe was actually one of your favorite people. It was just that… well, you weren’t sure if he even cared about Valentine’s Day.

But then you thought about how happy he’d look if he received a gift.

And, well… how could you resist?

So you made your way to a quiet, dimly lit corner of Yokohama’s library, where Poe usually hid away to write. You found him at his usual table, Karl curled up beside him, as he scribbled something in an old notebook.

You placed a carefully wrapped package in front of him.

Poe jumped slightly, blinking up at you. “y/n?”

You grinned. “Valentine’s gift.”

There was a long pause.

Then-

“Karl! She brought me something!”

You barely had time to react before Poe snatched the package with surprising speed, unwrapping it as if it held some ancient secret.

Inside was a beautifully bound, leather-cover notebook with delicate gold-embossed edges.

Poe froze.

His hands trembled slightly as he picked it up, eyes scanning every little detail. “This is…” His voice was almost a whisper.

“I figured you might like a new notebook,” you said, shrugging. “Y’know, for all your writing.”

Poe slowly looked up at you.

You blinked.

Was he… tearing up?

“…Poe?”

“This is the most thoughtful gift I have ever received,” he declared dramatically, clutching the notebook to his chest. Karl squeaked in agreement.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Glad you like it.”

Poe nodded furiously, then froze-as if remembering something important.

“Wait here!” He rummaged through his bag, then returned holding a small, carefully wrapped package.

“For me?” you asked, surprised.

Poe nodded eagerly. “Karl and I prepared it just in case!”

You opened the package to find a collection of beautifully handwritten short stories, bound together in a small book. The title page read:

“To y/n, A Collection of Mysteries & Dreams.”

Your breath hitched. “Poe…”

He flushed slightly. “I, um… I hope you like it.”

You grinned, holding the book close. “I love it.”

Karl climbed onto your shoulder, squeaking happily.

Best Valentine’s exchange ever.

Nikolai Gogol

You knew something was wrong the second you stepped into the Agency.

Everyone was staring at you. Some with curiosity. Others cough Kunikida cough with visible irritation.

You blinked. “Uh… what?”

Dazai smirked, nudging you forward. “Why don’t you check your desk, (Y/N)-chan?”

A sinking feeling settled in your gut.

Slowly, you turned-

And froze.

Because sitting on your desk was a massive, gift-wrapped box with a tag that read:

“To My Dearest, From Your Secret Admirer (Guess Who~!)”

You felt actual fear.

“No.” You turned to the others. “I am not opening that.”

Ranpo, casually eating a snack, snickered. “Smart choice.”

Before you could destroy the box yourself, the lid burst open-

And out popped Nikolai Gogol.

“SURPRISE, MOYA LUBOOOOV!” he sang, arms spread wide.

You screamed. Kunikida almost had a stroke.

Nikolai cackled, hopping out of the box. “Did you like my present, my dear? A gift from the heart- ME!”

You stared at him in horror. “Get back in the box.”

“Aw, but I worked so hard on this!” He spun dramatically. “I even thought about filling it with doves-maybe a few fireworks, but apparently, that’s ‘too dangerous indoors’ or whatever.”

“You-” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “What do you even want?”

Nikolai grinned. “Just your reaction, of course! And to see if you’d join my villain arc!”

You crossed your arms. “Hard pass.”

Nikolai pouted. “Booooring.” Then, with a snap of his fingers, he vanished.

You sighed in exhaustion.

Then, from somewhere above you, his voice echoed:

“Check under your desk, love~!”

You did not. You simply walked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Help! I feel the writing block coming back again. So i may disappear till then if you have any questions or requests? You know where to send them. Anyway i am going to my corner rn. Bye..

[e-dubbc11]

Such a Flirt

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Hunter Reader; supporting character Sam Winchester

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ please or I’m telling on you) fingering, oral, p in v protected sex (be safe out there everyone), couple of swear words, love confessions

Word Count: 3.3K-ish

Summary: Dean and Sam ask for your help getting information from a bartender at a local bar. You’re a smooth talker and can get info from anyone but Dean hates having to watch you flirt with handsome men.

A/N: Fair warning, there’s only a little plot with this one. I really just wanted to get to the smexy time. I had the strongest urge to write some smut for this smexy son of a bitch, I don’t know why but I’m just very much in love with all things Jensen Ackles right now(I’ve watched Tracker, My Bloody Valentine, and started watching season 3 of the Boys again plus random episodes of Supernatural) I can’t wait to meet him in October! I hope you like this one!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Dude, why are you grinding your teeth like that?” Asked Sam.

Dean’s eyes were fixated on you as you flirted with the bartender. You were trying to see if he knew anything about a man who was in the bar a couple of days ago.

Later, the man couldn’t explain why he had beaten his girlfriend to death after being seen in the bar with a beautiful woman who was definitely NOT his girlfriend.

“Does she have to flirt so hard with that guy?!” Growled Dean. “He’s not even that good looking!”

Dean angrily took a sip of his beer and continued to watch you like a hawk.

Sam rolled his eyes, pressed his lips together in a straight line and tried to continue talking about the case with Dean but he was more interested in what you were saying to the bartender.

“She’s trying to get information for us, Dean. Relax.” Said Sam.

The boys didn’t always need a third “FBI agent.” Sometimes they just needed help getting information from the opposite sex. Men were a lot freer with their words with you rather than the “feds.”

You mostly hunted on your own but they would call you from time to time when they needed your…”wits,” so to speak. Plus, you liked to watch Dean struggle with his feelings for you and you very much liked him back but it was fun to make him jealous.

**********

Before leaving the bunker, you had asked, “What kinda bar is it?”

“What do you mean what kind? It’s a bar, y/n.” Answered Dean.

“Ok, I realize that, Dean but is it a biker bar, a country western bar, one that doesn’t have a theme? I need to know what kinda clothes to bring. I threw a whole bunch in my car, I’ll bring the one outfit I need, and pick up the rest back here before I head home.” You replied.

Sam was already on his laptop doing research so he did a quick search and found the bar’s website online.

“Looks like it’s quite the nice place, y/n. Reviews say it’s an after work hot spot for bankers, real estate brokers, professionals, etc.” Said Sam.

You replied, “Soooooo a little swanky, but don’t dress like a high end call girl, got it. You guys will fit in perfectly wearing your FED suits.”

You decided to go for the “classy attorney” look but without a blazer. A Kelly green fitted silk blouse, black wide-leg pants that had black studs on the seam, and black ankle boots. Your perfectly chosen outfit, paired with a black structured tote bag seemed like impeccable choices.

Eat your heart out, Dean Winchester.

While they were out eating lunch, you did your hair and makeup. You didn’t do this super girly stuff very often but you liked…feeling pretty. The times that the boys needed you to turn on the charm and bat your long lashes to get information, were really fun for you.

Drawing on your black winged eyeliner after having a little too much coffee proved to be difficult sometimes but you were a professional and could probably do it with your eyes closed if you needed to.

A medium tone matte eyeshadow and a bold lip completed the look while a strobe light like highlighter emphasized the high points of your face.

Satisfied with your look, you watched a little tv before changing clothes. They would be back soon to pick you up for drinks after they talked to the local cops.

While in the bathroom, you heard the door open and Dean called out to you.

“Y/n?! You better be ready; we gotta go!” Said Dean.

You emerged from the bathroom fully dressed with the exception of your shoes.

“Ok, ok keep your shirt on, Winchester. I just need my boots.” You replied.

After slipping into your boots, you picked up your bag and finally had a chance to look up. For once, Dean’s brow wasn’t furrowed and you could see his hypnotizing green eyes much better which caught you off guard.

“What is it? Do I have something on my pants?” You said, gazing down at your pants then turning in a circle with your head over your shoulder, trying to look at your own ass.

Dean was speechless and couldn’t get any words out so Sam answered as he tossed a burger at you, “Nope, all good. Let’s go. You can eat in the car.”

They walked up ahead as you locked the door behind you.

“Dude, what is wrong with you? You were staring at her.” Said Sam.

Dean replied, “She looks too good, Sam.”

“Can you wrestle with your feelings for her another time? She’s supposed to look nice.” Sam said.

Nervously, Dean whispered, “Well she’s distracting! And I don’t have THOSE kinds of feelings for her.”

“Whatever you say, dude.” Replied Sam with raised eyebrows.

You covered your mouth so they wouldn’t see you crack a smile.

While riding in the car, you leaned forward so the boys could hear you better. Making sure he could feel your breath on his ear, you said, “You two can go in first, have a seat, and I’ll make my way in after a few minutes. You can keep an eye on me as I walk up to the bar.”

A sly smirk stretched across your lips as you slinked back into your seat and looked at Dean in the rearview mirror, trying his hardest NOT to appear flustered but failing miserably.

You could have made it easy and told Dean how you felt about him but he deserved to be on the receiving end of the teasing. Women made it easy for him, just falling at his feet which meant he had his pick and he hated every time you teased him.

And now, drinking at the corner of the bar, you could feel him burning a hole in your head with his angry stare. It appeared that Dean couldn’t take just sitting there anymore. Sam tried to grab hold of his jacket but he missed and Dean started to walk over to the bar when the bartender walked away to wait on someone else.

“I’m getting some good stuff, Dean. Get outta here!” You whisper yelled at him without looking and without drawing attention to yourself.

He nonchalantly whisper yelled back at you, “You’re being a little TOO friendly with him, don’t ya think?”

“I’m perfectly capable of weaseling information out of a dumb bartender. Now get outta here before I kick your ass all over this bar!” You growled.

“Need something, friend?” The bartender asked Dean.

A tad flustered, Dean replied with a narrowed expression, “Two more beers, buddy. Thanks.”

You got what you needed from the bartender and after another hour or so, you paid for your drinks and left. Dean and Sam followed you out a handful of minutes later.

“Can we get pizza?” You asked.

Dean was always in a better mood if he was fed properly so as a peace offering, you bought pizza on the way back to the motel. And of course, Dean picked up more beer.

Settling in with your dinner, you told them everything Jeremy, the bartender, told you about what he witnessed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, I didn’t know the two of you were on a first name basis.” Said Dean.

You rolled your eyes.

“Will you let me finish, please!?” You asked.

“Dean…let her finish. Come on.” Said Sam.

Dean continued to pace back and forth while you talked.

“…So the woman that he left with, Jeremy had never seen before. And this guy hung on her every word, gazed at her like she hung the moon, she said all the right things. Almost like he was legit under a spell or something.” You finished.

Sam had his laptop open. His fingers swiftly typed words into the search engine and he then flipped the screen around to show you and Dean what he found.

“I think we might be dealing with another siren.” Said Sam, confidently. “Two other women were murdered by husbands or boyfriends after encounters with beautiful women at that bar. Sirens need love and they compel people to kill to show devotion to them.” He turned to Dean. “Remember that one we dealt with before? The time where we were trying to kill each other?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I remember. I try not to though.”

Preoccupied with Dean’s eyes, they had darkened a little to match better with the green shirt you had on, you covered your infatuation by pushing the chair across from you out from under the table.

“Take a load off, tiger. You’re makin’ me nervous with all this pacin’ around you’re doin’.” You said in between bites of pizza.

The Winchester brothers were your second family and you knew them well, especially Dean so you knew when something was really bothering him. And right now, something was definitely bothering him.

Sam’s face was buried in his laptop, it was quiet in the room except for the sounds of fingers moving across a keyboard, and the tension in the room was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Something about you being there was keeping Dean on edge so you finally decided to break the silence.

“Dean? Come on. What is it? You’re being extra grouchy right now, so grouchy that pizza couldn’t fix it. Ever since I walked outta the bathroom earlier, you’ve been short with me.” You said, calmly.

He pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead and traced the outside of his lips with his thumb and forefinger before narrowing his eyes at you.

You knew that look. The look of an extremely handsome literal green-eyed monster glaring at you from across the table. Dean was close to blowing a gasket.

He pointed at you and in his low gravelly voice said, “I don’t like it when you flirt with other men. There! I said it, ok!? You happy!?”

In one fluid motion, Sam closed his laptop, grabbed the keys to the car and said, “I’m gonna go talk to the cops again. Lemme know when you two work THIS out.”

You started to say, “O-ok, well just be—“

“Yep, I’ll be careful. I know what to look for. I’ll see ya guys later.” Said Sam.

The door closed behind him, the Impala roared to life, and Sam drove off, leaving you and Dean alone in the motel room.

“Well that was weird. Anyway…Dean, I’m just doing what you guys asked me to do! You needed me to get information, so I turned on my charm and I got what we needed just like any other time you’ve needed me for something like this!” You said with a raised voice.

Dean stood up from the table and loosened his tie a little. Unbuttoning the top button on his dress shirt, he didn’t take his gaze away from you.

“You don’t have to be THAT good, ya know! They eat it up every single time! Lemme ask you this…did that Jeremy guy ask for your number?”

Seeing Dean this upset made you think that he didn’t just have a little crush on you.

Feeling a little warm, you unbuttoned a couple of buttons on your blouse and stood up also. You were reluctant to answer him but finally said softly, “Yes, he did.”

“HA! I fuckin’ knew it! They always do and did you give it to him?” Asked Dean.

You started to answer before he interrupted you, “Dean…”

“Did you!?” He asked again.

Not wanting to confess your feelings first, you tried to stall.

“No, I didn’t!” You shouted.

The table was in between the two of you. Both of you were breathing heavily, your jawlines tight with anger and frustration, and the sound of your heart beating inside your chest was deafening.

“Oh yeah?! And why should I believe you, y/n?!” Dean growled.

“I’ve never given any of them my number, Dean! Not a single one!” You bellowed.

His expression softened as he asked, “Well…why not?”

After a long day, you couldn’t help but collapse onto the bed. You allowed your legs to give out and sat down on the edge of the mattress before answering him.

“Why do you think, ya big dumb animal?! Because the only guy's number I want in my phone is yours, Dean! And Sam’s but for different reasons. You know what I’m trying to say, stop looking at me like that.” You said, nervously.

He walked around the table, gazed down at you with his beautiful green eyes, they were the color of fresh blades of grass, and leaned over to inch his face closer to yours. The sprinkling of freckles across his nose was so youthful and adorable. You swallowed hard as you felt his breath against your eyelashes.

“And why do you think I get the way that I do when I see you flirt with other guys? You know why, don’t you sweetheart.” He said, melodiously.

Dean’s lips were ghosting over yours. You were silently begging him to just kiss you and kiss you hard. All the tension that had been building over the years was coming to a head right now. His tie dangled down from around his neck, you were dying to just pull him on top of you and find out what he tastes like…all of him.

“Because you want me as much as I want you?” You replied, gently touching his tie.

Still holding his tie, you inched yourself up toward the headboard. Dean followed your lead as you removed his tie and began to unbutton his dress shirt.

“I want you more.” He purred into your ear before his perfect lips crashed onto yours.

Dean covered your mouth with his own, devouring you with every kiss he placed on your lips, neck and jaw. You won the fight to be on top, although you were sure he let you win, and you continued to unbutton his shirt while he grasped clumsily at the buttons on yours.

They were small so he was having a hard time with them until you stepped in.

“I’ll do them, baby.” You whispered as he haphazardly tossed his clothes to the side.

You stood up and let your pants fall to your ankles while you finished unbuttoning your silk shirt. His desire for you was very apparent by the large tent in his boxers that you felt against your core as soon as you straddled him. The bottom of the shirt brushed against his thighs and goosebumps peppered across his skin.

You decided to let him finish undressing you.

Dean’s hands gently pushed your shirt off of your shoulders and all that was left was the black lace bra that was barely containing your breasts that he could not wait to get you out of. The man was a pro at unhooking your bra with one hand. If you didn’t want him so badly, you would have stopped to give him shit for it.

He lightly nipped the skin down the side of your neck, making you gasp when he got to the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You felt like you could have come just by him biting down on that sweet spot. The growing ache between your thighs was torture and you desperately wanted him to touch you.

Like he read your mind, his strong hands migrated from your breasts down to your waist. Reaching in between your thighs, Dean teased your entrance with one finger, then slid another inside with ease.

“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He whispered as a strangled moan escaped your lips.

To suffocate your screams, you bit down on your lower lip as he continued to move his talented fingers, hooking them in just the right spot to make you see stars, and drew circles on your clit to really tease you.

“Dean!” You pleaded, just before you hit your peak and tightly clenched around his fingers.

“You can be loud, baby. These kinds of places are used to noises like that, if ya know what I mean.” He said with a wink and a smirk.

You smiled back, pressed your lips to his, and lightly bit down on his bottom lip before starting to pepper kisses down his chest.

After pulling down his boxers, you took him into your mouth. A deep guttural moan and words of praise fled from Dean’s lips when your tongue circled the underside. That made him draw in a sharp breath as his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Fuck, that feels good, sweetheart.” He hissed and mumbled something else incoherently.

Crawling up his body, he slipped on a condom and then as you straddled him, you replied, “My mouth isn’t just for flirting, Dean.”

He slid into you with ease, burying himself to the hilt, causing you both to gasp before he cut your moan short with a hard kiss. You circled your hips slowly, allowing him to go deeper inside you, and it sent sharp tingles down your spine.

You pulled him in close as your walls began to tighten around him, clinging to him like your life depended on it with your climax starting to build.

Dean’s body was a warm cradle for yours as his fast abrupt strokes were about to send you over the edge and fast. But he loved to look at you so he pulled away slightly and watched your pleasure surge through you.

As you were riding out one orgasm, Dean managed to pull another one from you as you loudly called out his name like no one else was around which made him feral.

His movements became faster, more brutal, pulling out of you just so he could slam into you again and again as his body went rigid underneath you. Crushing your waist, his arms were wrapped around you so tightly that all of the air escaped your lungs.

His release came hard and fast, followed by a strangled moan while your bodies trembled from overstimulation. Dean’s eyes were wide and unfocused as he tried to catch his breath while you leaned in for a gentle kiss and let your fingers glide through his soft brown hair.

Collapsing on top of him, you smiled against his chest as his fingers tickled the outside of your arm and the only thing you could hear was Dean’s heart beating rapidly against your ear.

Trying to get your breathing under control, you covered yourself with the sheet and finally managed to ask, “So…does this mean you don’t want me to flirt for information anymore?”

Dean kissed the top of your head and replied, “As long as you come home with me, I’ll allow it.”

“ALLOW IT?! You’re not the boss of me, Winchester.” You said, sarcastically.

He licked his lips as you looked up at him through your long dark lashes.

In barely more than a whisper, he said, “Well what if I told you you’re really pretty and that I might be…in love with you?”

“Awww…you’re really pretty too!” You said, jokingly.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Alright, I’m tryin’ to—“

Wrapped up in the sheet, you sat upright, cupped his cheeks and pressed your lips to his, your tongue slipped into his mouth to tangle with his as a low growl escaped his lips.

“I might be in love with you too.” You whispered against his mouth.

Chasing each other’s smiles, he continued to kiss you until you heard a key in the door. Sam walked in, took one look at the two of you and without missing a beat said, “Oh good, you two worked it out. So I was thinking, I might know who—“

He stopped, looked at the two of you and shouted, “Guys…that’s MY bed!!”

You and Dean started to laugh.

Oops.

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @stoneyggirl2 @vaguekayla

Others that might enjoy: @k-marzolf @jvanilly @fluffyprettykitty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @deans-spinster-witch @savorxe

If you would like to be added to(or removed from) my tag list(s) for this smexy Winchester, just let me know!

[gothamite-rambler]

Duke Thomas meeting Ra's Al Ghul for the first time.

Duke: SATAN!

Ra's: What? Ow!

Duke tossed a small rock at Ra's alarming the villainous man. Jason covered his mouth chuckling. Damian turned the other way so his grandfather didn't see him laughing as well.

Duke: Damian, Jason, get behind me!

Duke clasped his fingers together in the shape of a cross.

Duke: Stand back, Satan, prince of darkness!

Ra's: I'm not Satan, and I'm certainly not a mere prince!

Duke: The devil is a master of disguise, taking on many forms. Evil walks among us, hiding in plain sight.

Ra's: Okay, that’s just hurtful.

Duke kicked Ra's in the shin, causing the man to grunt in pain and crumple to the ground.

Duke: Uh huh, that’s what the magic goop does to you when you keep swimming in it! And that’s for Jason, jerk.

Ra's (weakly): Oh, for what? Teaching him how to be an actual protector of Gotham?

Duke: Of course you’d defend it! Look, if you come near me or my little brother again, I’m going to spritz you with my holy water. I've been wanting to do that for a while. Let's go, guys.

Duke stepped over the fallen man, with Jason and Damian following closely behind. Jason struggled to stifle his laughter.

Damian (turning to his grandfather): Sorry, Grandpa, but you had it coming.

Ra's (standing up): This is rare for me, pride in someone else. Sadly, it's being suffocated by my rage at being kicked in the shin!

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

Duke: Stay away from him! Don’t come near us, Prince of Darkness. Damian doesn’t want you near him.

Duke sprayed Ra's Al Ghul with a spray bottle filled with water. Ra's wasn’t hurt by the water, but found it irritating to be sprayed in the face like a disobedient cat.

Ra's (eye twitching): I’m not a cat, and he’s my grandson! Damian, get—Stop spraying me!

Duke (continuing to spray): Unfortunately, you’re related, but he doesn’t want you near him if you can’t keep your promise about no ninjas.

Duke lowered the spray bottle as Ra's took a step back.

Damian (keeping a safe distance): Thanks, Duke. He wants me to enter some weird tournament, and I’m really not in the right headspace to almost die.

Duke: No problem. How did you handle beelzebub as a little kid?

Damian (shrugging): He’s not completely evil; sometimes he’d give me hard candies for winning fights.

Duke nodded, quickly spraying Ra's again when the man made a move toward him.

Duke: Back up, dude! I ain't playing. I have powers, I can vanish in this lair of yours and then beat you up!

Ra's (squinting his eyes enraged): I don’t care about you.

Ra's stormed off, grumbling under his breath. Damian picked up the spray bottle, confused.

Duke: It's just regular water, but I pretend it’s holy water.

Damian (impressed): You know, you haven't quite reached our level of strangeness, but I admire how odd you can be.

Duke (chuckling with a smile): I appreciate that, bro.

[boobabietch]

we need a whiny paige getting strapped

Pretty woman | Paige Bueckers x reader

Warnings: porn without plot :), bottom!Paige, sub!Paige, strap on sex, whiny Paige getting strapped and that’s it

A/N: Hello lovelies! I bring you this as a peace offering for not being active with requests. I'm pretty happy with it. Hope you're happy with it too! And yes, this is the piece I had to use porn as an anatomical reference LMAO. And let me tell you, that was a motherfucking nightmare, because I was looking for a very specific position, and the only video I could find, it was a nasty straight video, why are straight dudes so into stepcest??? But anyways, I really like this. Don't know if it's my favorite Paige piece I’ve written, but I really like this. Hope you like it too. As usual English is not my first language so if you find anything wrong tell me so I can change it asap, likes, reblogs and comments(!!!) are highly appreciated, you guys truly make my day. And that’s pretty much everything, enjoy! Love, Sof :)

I think she looks so pretty when she gets like this.

Well, I think she’s so pretty in general.

When she’s on the court, moving like she was built for it, sharp, fast, untouchable. Like the game was made for her, like the ball bends to her will, like every move is effortless, inevitable. The way her jersey clings to her, damp with sweat, the way her muscles flex with every cut, every drive, every perfectly timed release

It’s hypnotic.

When she’s on those red carpets, draped in something expensive, her hair done just right, her lips painted in a shade that makes my stomach twist in an almost unfair way.

When her face is all over my TV, my for you page, my world.

But like this? Like this, she’s something else entirely.

Like this, she’s wrecked. Breathless. Completely undone beneath me.

I can feel her breath on my lips, hot, uneven, desperate. The way she gasps when I push back in, the way she shudders beneath me, her thighs trembling as she tries to hold onto something, me, the sheets, her sanity. It’s intoxicating.

It makes me want to ruin her.

Her hands slide up my back again, nails raking, dragging over skin already raw from her touch. I groan at the sting, loving the pain just as much as she loves giving it. Her fingers find my shoulders, then my hair, yanking me down until our foreheads are pressed together. She’s babbling now, words barely making sense, just breathy little pleas, broken curses, my name tangled in between.

I thrust deeper.

Her body jerks, back arching off the bed, her legs spreading wider, as if she’s trying to pull me impossibly closer. And fuck, she’s so wet. I can feel it every time I move, I can hear the slick, obscene sounds filling the room, mixing with her moans, my groans, the ragged sound of our breathing. My thumb keeps working her clit, slow, steady circles that have her head tilting back, exposing the gorgeous line of her throat.

I watch her unravel in real time. The little tears in the corners of her eyes that she refuses to let fall. The way her lips part on a breathless gasp. The way her fingers dig into my back, her whole body arching, her pulse thrumming against my lips when I kiss her throat.

I lean in, biting. Not too hard, just enough to make her whimper, to feel her shiver beneath me. I lap at the skin, soothing the mark that I know she’s going to need to cover tomorrow, before I move back up to her mouth. I don’t kiss her. Not yet. I hover, close enough to feel the heat of her lips, to watch the way she struggles to keep her eyes open, her pupils blown wide, making her usual piercing blue gaze dark, primal, dazed.

“Look at you,” I murmur, voice rough, teasing. “So fucked out already.”

She whines, tries to close the space between us, but I pull back just a little, just enough to watch the frustration bloom across her face. It’s adorable. It’s addicting.

I snap my hips forward again, hard, dragging a sharp, desperate cry from her lips.

“There’s my girl,” I breathe against her mouth. “You like that, don’t you?”

She nods frantically, her nails digging into my scalp, into my back, anywhere she can grab. “Please,” she gasps. “Please…”

I grin against her cheek, rocking into her again, pushing her higher, keeping my pace just enough to drive her insane but not enough to let her fall over the edge. I can feel the way she’s clenching around me, the way her body is begging for release. I can see it in her face, in the way her jaw goes slack, in the way she shakes.

“Not yet,” I whisper “Just feel it baby, enjoy the feeling”.

She sobs, a frustrated, overwhelmed sound that sends a shiver down my spine. I keep my rhythm steady, deep and slow, dragging it out, making her feel every inch, every roll of my hips, every teasing brush of my thumb against her clit.

“You feel that, P?” I murmur, my lips grazing the shell of her ear. “How good you feel stretched around me?”

Paige swallows hard, her breath hitching, but she doesn’t respond. She can’t, not when my hips are rolling so slow, so steady, my strap filling her completely.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” My tone almost reverent. “Like you were made to take this. Made to take me.”

And then I lower my head, once again my teeth scraping along her neck before I press an open-mouthed kiss to her pulse.

“Look at you,” I whisper. “Fucking falling apart for me. Like a good girl. You love being my good girl, don’t you?”

Paige can’t hold back the sound that escapes her, soft, needy, and almost a whimper. Her fingers grip the sheets tightly, her body arching against mine as her sounds sink deep into my skin, into her mind.

Her chest presses into mine, sticky with sweat, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts. She’s so warm, so fucking soft, and she’s mine, all mine, spread out underneath me like a masterpiece.

I wait.

Watch.

Drink in every little twitch, every little plea she doesn’t even realize she’s making.

And then I move, fast, relentless, pounding into her, driving her up the bed with every thrust, keeping my hands tight around her hips so she can’t run, can’t move, can only take it.

She whines. A beautiful, broken sound.

I don’t stop.

“Come for me, baby,” I murmur “Come on, I know you’re close.”

She shatters.

I press my palm to her stomach, pinning her down like I can keep her here, like I can make her stay in this feeling, in this pleasure, in me. Because I feel her. Even if it’s just silicone, even if this should be nothing more than friction and pressure, I can feel the way she clenches around me, the way her body pulls me in, the way she trembles beneath me.

Her release is devastating. It crashes over her, all-consuming, a perfect storm of pleasure that leaves her gasping, shaking, crying out my name like it’s the only thing she knows. I watch it happen, mesmerized at how her body goes taut, her back arching into me, her mouth parted in a silent scream before sound finally breaks free, raw and wrecked and so fucking beautiful.

She’s everything.

My grip tightens, fingers digging into her hips as I fuck her through it, dragging out every last pulse, every last wave, until she’s left panting, barely able to hold herself together. She tries, though.

My girl always tries.

But I can feel the way she’s still fluttering around me, sensitive and spent, the aftershocks making her tremble in my hands.

I slow my movements, gentle now, coaxing her back down, grounding her as she comes back to herself. I press soft kisses to her flushed skin, her shoulder, her jaw, the corner of her mouth, where she’s still gasping for air.

She barely manages to open her eyes, dazed and heavy-lidded, pupils blown so wide the blue is almost lost. She looks at me like she’s still floating somewhere just beyond reality, like I’ve broken her open and she hasn’t quite figured out how to put herself back together.

I press a kiss to her forehead, murmuring, “Breathe, baby.”

She exhales shakily, and it’s so soft, so vulnerable, that something in my chest clenches tight. I slip out carefully, feeling the way she twitches at the loss, throw the strap carelessly off the bed, and move to wrap her up in my arms before she can even think about reaching for me.

She doesn’t say anything at first, just nuzzles into me, her face tucked against my throat, her breath still uneven. My hands move over her back, slow, soothing strokes, grounding her, anchoring her to me.

Her body melts into mine, boneless, content, safe. I let her drift, listening to the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing, the way her fingers twitch slightly against my skin, still holding onto me even in the post-orgasmic haze she’s in.

And I think,

She looks so pretty like this.

Well, I think she’s so pretty in general.

When she’s on the court, moving like she was built for it, sharp, fast, untouchable. When she’s draped in something expensive, lips painted, looking like she owns the world. When her face is everywhere, on my TV, on my feed, in my thoughts.

But like this? Like this, she’s something else entirely.

Flushed, breathless, ruined.

Mine.

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Masterlist

[honeyhour]

“that’s a very intimate approach, so maybe i shouldn’t be that surprised. who knew you could learn so much about a person based on the method of murder they choose? i think more people should try using it as an ice breaker.” it really helps to set a tone right from the jump, though she would suggest asking before getting into a car with the other person. just in case. “uh, no, don’t you dare. if i gave you a video of me naked, i would expect you to watch every minute, thank you very much. none of this cowardly closing out early bullshit. you commit or you don’t get.” much like doing the act itself, este is of the belief that he should feel grateful he’s even getting a glimpse, hypothetical or not. it’s like he wants her to change her mind and find someone else who will appreciate it more. “yeah? finally, the compliments i was looking for,” she gives him a smile, though it wanes soon after. “i don’t know... you sort of just answered the question yourself. i’m not used to someone paying attention to me, at least not at home, so even if you were just doing what was expected of you, i still appreciated it. it made me feel normal for a change and after the way dinner went, i wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity to feel that again… besides, it's probably better to get out for a while than overthink alone in my room. if it weren't for the whole ‘sister’s boyfriend’ thing, we might actually make pretty good friends.”

"definitely hands on. i like to feel their last breath under my fingertips, you know." admittedly a little morbid but with a softer grin still on his face, he hopes to steer clear of any sort of fear factor. especially as they're starting to wind through the hilly countryside a bit, shrouded in darkness with nothing but bright headlights to guide them through. "you said it was a win-win, i might as well enjoy it, right? well, up until the point you call him dad. that's when i either mute the video or close out of it to finish on my own." because surely she can't expect to send something like that without even a little bit of audience participation, right? hypotheticals will remain hypotheticals, however, so answering his tiny blips of worry is just wasted energy. "yeah? you think so? god, that's really fucking sad in general that someone like me is out here making you feel better. you really don't deserve the ghost treatment, este. you're a lot of fun to be around, you make damn good jokes, and everything's just been real with you. for some reason, that's hard to come across these days. maybe that's why i'm being 'pretty sweet'," jesper remarks back with quotes, just because he doesn't want to get her hopes up just yet. there's always times to make things worse, even if he doesn't mean to at times. "... can i actually ask you the same thing then? why did you decide to come outside to hang out with the guy dating your sister? i thought you'd be happier in your bedroom. i fully expected you to say 'no', honestly."

[cheesesandwichsanto]

He knew … II

Summary: Reader and Sihtric are seperated but meet again in Hunstanton, after he “betrayed” Uhtred

Pairing: Sihtric x f!reader

Warning: mentioned death, mentioned blood, heartbreak

Word Count: ~5k

A/N: Thank you for giving my first story so much love. I really appreciate that. So this one is a little bit longer than the previous one (even I don’t know what happened, I just couldn’t stop writing)

If you enjoy the story; likes, reblogs and comments are really appreciated 🖤

Again proof-read by my friend @witchezandwonderz

Thank you so much 🖤

Check out her stories. She’s an amazing writer!

Click here for Part I

Everyone in Dunholm packed their belongings and got ready to leave for the battle against King Alfred, to fight in the Great Army and to get the chance of being welcomed to Valhalla.

You knew it was just a matter of time before your father or someone else found out you are with child.

Your belly just a tiny bump, hidden underneath your armor.

While getting your horse ready for the journey, your father approached you.

“Are you not feeling well my child? You look a bit pale” he said.

“Just the usual, father, you know I am not fond of riding for a long time” you told him and forced a smile on your face.

“If the ride is too much, tell Ragnar, and we can rest for a bit.” “I know, I know…” you mumbled while nodding your head lightly.

Your father turned around and walked back to Cnut and the others, to discuss the path they were taking.

The journey to the stop along the way and the final camp was exhausting.

The first one somewhere in the woods in the middle of Wessex, the final one in Hunstanton, East Anglia.

When the camp was finally put up, everyone was coping with their own stuff, so no one noticed you laying in your tent all day, except for your friend Brida.

She knew something was wrong, so she dragged you out of the tent to the nearest fireplace and pushed a horn of ale in your hand, trying to cheer you up.

“So, now you tell me what’s wrong. The whole travel here your head was hanging low and you think deeply about something, and I just can’t figure out what.”

“It is nothing, believe me.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing to me…” Brida mumbled, while taking a sip of her ale.

“Wait, it’s not about that boy, Sihtric was his name right?” She grinned.

Your eyes flicked to hers immediately. “Maybe… depends on how able you are to keep your mouth shut.” You answered mad. “Come on, it can’t be that bad right?” She laughed, but stopped immediately as she saw the corners of your mouth were pulled down.

“I think I am with child…” you sighed, while staring at the dirty ground.

“And he is the father” you said further, gripping the horn with ale tightly.

Brida listened quietly.

“You can’t tell anyone, I don’t want anyone to find out”.

“I mean, at least he’s not a Saxon right” she tried to make you smile “but I won’t tell anyone, not even Ragnar, not a word will cross my lips”. She threw her arm over your shoulder. “I promise.”

You thanked her and sat with her in silence, finally gotten it of your chest.

The next morning you were awoken by a scream, recognizing that voice as Brida’s.

As you exited your tent, you saw Brida and your father circled by numerous warriors.

Not knowing what happened before you saw Brida was trying to attack your father, but he knocked her to the ground.

The circle dissolved.

You were running to her, giving her a hug.

“He’s dead… Ragnar is dead…” she sobbed.

“I.. I have to go, find a place to bury him” she said with empty eyes.

Helping her collect stones for the grave, you let her and Ragnar alone to have their last moment together and you walked back to the camp with Cnut.

Back at the camp you went to your father with him. “We both will lead this army” he told Cnut.

Then he looked at you.

“I want to know you beside me, my daughter.” “I will always be loyal to you father.” You smiled.

He looked at you with pride, laying his hand on your shoulder.

In the evening, while Cnut held his big speech about how Ragnar has been a great warrior and that they are all united as Danes, you stood beside your father, and at the speech's end, when everybody cheered for the battle to come, you just stood there sadly, knowing that you won’t be able to fight because of the little secret you’re hiding.

The camp in Hunstanton was always busy. Warriors were training, maidens were preparing food all day. Cnut and your father talking about battle strategies, while Aethelwold listened carefully and you?

You were just sitting on a stomp next to your father, bored by everything because Brida was not here to keep you company.

Just as you thought you’re going to die of boredom, you saw that stupid fool Haesten with the seer Skade from afar, you were just rolling your eyes and continuing to listen to the battle strategies.

As they got closer, your father got up, and seemed to be relieved that Skade was back.

Haesten told them what happened, that he lost more than half of his men and that she is now his woman.

He was an idiot to think that your father would just accept that.

You got up to stand between Aethelwold and your father, Cnut still stood in front of Haesten.

Skade was chained and sat down at the muddy ground and as she saw you, she was taking a sharp look at you.

“You, daughter of Bloodhair” she was talking to you “I feel it, and I can see it, you are carrying a child, he’s going to be a strong warrior one day.”

Everyone went silent.

You mouth fell slightly open.

No, that can not be, how can she know that? Has she talked to Brida?

Brida is the only one who knows.

Even if they met somehow, Brida would never tell anyone.

She promised you.

But how did she know?

“My daughter is what?” your father asked furiously.

“You heard me Bloodhair, you know that my fortunes are always true” she said, looking arrogantly in your fathers face.

But your father just looked your way, disappointment in his eyes.

“Who is the father of this child?” He asked you, his voice softer as moments ago, but he was still mad.

You remained silent.

“I am not asking you again Y/N. Who. Is. The. Father?”

“Is it important? It is someone who isn’t here, and he doesn’t know I’m with child”

He just run his hand across his face.

“I thought I raised you better, I am really disappointed in you…” he said and turned around to walk away.

Your heart feeling heavy.

You hoped Skade would stay with Uhtred.

She brought nothing but misfortune to everyone.

“Who thought Sigurd’s daughter would get knocked up by some nobody” Haesten said laughing, trying to get a reaction out of you.

“Hey, I am talking to you!” he yelled in your direction. You stared at him.

“I heard you the first time, but I’m just not interested in talking with some moron like you.”

You responded calmly and turned away, looking for you father.

He just has to hear you out.

Standing in front of your father’s tent you took a deep breath, feeling kind of nervous as you entered.

He was leaning against the big wooden table.

“Can I talk to you father?” You asked, your voice not louder that a whisper.

“Of course you can my child” he answered, while sighing out loudly.

“I know you are disappointed in me and believe me, I didn’t plan to get pregnant right now, especially because we are just before a great battle. But I want to let you know that I was really in love with that man, I don’t know if he felt the same and if I will see him again, but now it is how it is. I can’t change the past…” you held in for a few seconds before continuing “The father of this child is a great warrior, just as you are father, and I would be more than happy if my son turns out the same way... ” he listened attentively before he started to speak.

“My reaction towards you was unfair my daughter, I could never be disappointed in you and you know that. I don’t care who the father is, a child is always a blessing” he stepped closer, holding your head between his hands “you are my only child, my only family, my only blood, the only person I trust fully. You are Y/N Sigurdsdottir, and I could never manage losing you.” He held you close, like never wanting to let go of you again.

Then he said “and you know, that after I lost your mother, my beloved wife, that I found almost the same love in Skade again. I want her back…”

You kind of understood him. Kind of.

Fighting for love is always worth it.

But fighting for love you already lost in fighting, is just stupid.

And fighting for a witch who is not interested in him anymore, is just suicide.

A day later, riders on horses came riding up to the campground and got to a hold in the middle of it.

You recognized them immediately as Danes, Haesten’s men, one of them Dagfinn.

And for some reason, underneath them was the man you were never able to forget.

Sihtric.

He was sitting on his horse, seeing you standing by your tent, looking even more beautiful than he remembered.

He felt like being back in Dunholm, looking at you for the first time in his life.

But his glance could only last a few moments, before he was involved into a conversation about what he, one of Uhtred’s men, was doing here.

You stood by your tent watching them talk, as Cnut approached you.

“Will you tell him?” He asked you.

“What will I tell who?” You replied, trying to sound confused.

“Come on, you know what I mean. I watched you two sneaking around in Dunholm, more than once, and I know what a pregnant woman looks like, I have two sons.”

“Why didn’t you just tell everyone when you knew the whole time?” You wondered.

“Because it’s none of my business what you do behind closed doors. So, are you going to tell him?”

“I’m trying to, he has the right to know … we will see.” You spoke, as you entered your tent again.

In the evening, Brida came back from her journey, apparently with a plan to safe Ragnar from Niflheim.

When the night was falling, and nothing but stars were seen at the sky, you were sitting at the campfire with the others.

You knew that Sihtric was watching you from across the fire, but trying not to make it too obvious.

Everyone was having a good time.

Dagfinn asked Sihtric where he was going to sleep, since he does not have a tent nor some furs. Unfortunately Brida saw that as an opportunity to play match maker again.

“Y/N’s tent is one of the bigger ones and she has some furs to spare, he can sleep there.” she stated emotionless, continuing to chew on some chicken wing, not giving a hint what she was thinking.

“Ehhm… right” you replied dumbfounded, not really agreeing with her.

“I am going to bed, good night” you said quickly further, feeling really embarrassed.

Sihtric remained seated for a short while, then he turned to follow, while Cnut said laughing “Hey Sihtric, I know she is a very beautiful woman, but keep your little friend in your breeches”

“No need for that my friend, she already is full” Haesten joked, but got quiet as soon as Brida’s and your father’s stare landed on him.

You gritted your teeth.

You cursed Haesten for his existence.

You wanted to tell Sihtric yourself.

You definitely didn’t want him to find out from someone else.

Well, that really didn’t turn out as planned.

What you didn’t noticed was how Sihtric got really pissed about that comment too.

He was mad he lost you to another man.

This fool could call himself happy to have a beautiful woman like you carrying his child, but he still seems not to be around.

But he didn’t had any right to be jealous. Sidgeflaed was in Winchester waiting for him.

You entered your tent and Sihtric followed slowly after you.

You stood there, your back still facing him.

Turning around, your eyes met. Both of you staring at each other for a while.

Sihtric was the first one to break the silence.

“So… you are with child. Congratulations. Your man must be really excited” he spoke with jealousy.

You looked at him confused.

Was he really that stupid?

“There is no man, I am on my own.” You told him, fumbling to pick out some furs for him.

“And… who is the father?” He asked, still oblivious, staring at the ground.

You looked at him for what felt like minutes. Throwing the furs to the side.

“Sihtric, you are the only man I have shared my bed with in a while, so you tell me” you gulped.

His eyes turned big.

“Wait… you mean… I am… the father?” he asked further, but his voice only a whisper in the dark.

You just nodded.

And then the unthinkable happened.

You thought he would be mad, that he didn’t want to have anything to do with you and the child.

But he pulled you into his body and kissed you passionately, the world around you both completely disappearing. You were breaking the kiss and leaning your foreheads against each others.

There was only you and him (and the little one still inside your belly).

You both crying and laughing at the same time.

It seemed like the perfect world, even if it was for just a moment, you enjoyed every second of it.

Now Sihtric knew for sure, he was going to leave his wife for you.

He didn’t care that you were Bloodhair’s daughter, the enemy, the Dane (even though he is one too).

He was deeply in love with you. He would do anything for you and your child.

But he still has somehow to tell you that he is in fact already married.

He really did not know how and when to convey that information and how you will react.

You were talking the whole night, snuggled up on some furs on the floor.

He wanted to know if anyone knows that he is the child’s father, you just told him that only Brida knows and she would never tell anyone, your trust in her is deep.

He even told you about the curse the witch Skade put on his Lord, and why he has to bring her back to him.

You understood it, curses are not taken lightly.

He wanted your help to get Skade out of the camp.

And you had just one favor to ask of him.

You wanted to go with him - as a hostage.

To give your child the chance to live, not having to grew up in a camp, but rather in a stable home and he agreed.

The following weeks were running by quickly. Sihtric awaiting news from his Lord.

You spend a lot of time together, trying not to make it obvious.

You trained together, sharpened your swords together, ate together almost every meal.

You were again training with Brida for hours.

You missed it dearly to spend time with her.

Unfortunately the ground was so muddy, as it has just rained before, so you slipped and got covered in dirt.

“I think you should go and take a bath” she laughed “maybe your lover wants to join” she suggested, nodding her head to Sihtric and wiggling with her eyebrows, carefully to be quiet enough so only you understood her words.

You just hid her shoulder with your fist in response, grinning from one ear to the other.

Sihtric was sitting at the campfire alone, eating his meal in silence.

You got up to him and whispered in his ear “I need you to do something, follow me, but make sure nobody sees.”

You walked out of the camp and into the woods.

Sihtric finished his food and followed you, always looking around if somebody noticed.

You were waiting for him behind a tree.

You heard the leaves rustle.

You knew it was Sihtric.

He was calling your name and just before he walked past you, you came out of your hiding place and stopped in front of him.

He took your head in his palms and kissed you full of lust.

Not being able to kiss in the camp was bitter.

“So what special task do you need me to do?” He smirked. You came closer to him, your lips just millimeters apart.

“I … I need … I need you … to look out if someone comes while I am taking a quick bath.”

“Oh… eh … alright” he mumbled disappointed.

“What’s wrong? Were you … were you thinking we were going to hump here? So when I told you I need you to do something, you understood that I need you to do me?” You asked kind of amused.

“Yeah… I actually kind of thought that.” He replied flustered while scratching his head in embarrassment.

“I mean, you could just join me, but we have to be quick, it’s freezing” you told him seductively while pulling him behind you to the lake in the forest.

What you two didn’t notice, was a man standing next to a few trees, a few meters away.

He watched the whole scene in front of him.

Dropping the bunch of flowers, he extra picked for you, onto the ground.

His heart shattering into a million pieces.

He saw you walking out of the camp and thought that would be his chance.

He finally found the courage to tell you about his feelings, picking flowers to surprise you but being disappointed to find you with Sihtric.

He thought you being pregnant was one of Haesten’s jokes. He felt like the last jerk.

A long time ago, even before Dunholm, he fell in love with you.

You both even shared a drunken night.

But that was long before Sihtric.

Back then Haesten was always picking on him, even though he’s his second in command.

One day you couldn’t take it anymore, listening to his bullshit and bad jokes all day, so you confronted Haesten.

That was the moment he fell deeply.

The the first time someone vouched for him.

He never showed his feelings for you towards anyone.

He was a strong and feared warrior after all, but he wanted you to notice him, in more than just the way of being a warrior, or maybe a friend.

But it was too late. He missed his chance.

Looking desolate he walked back to the camp.

The next morning you woke up alone, only covered in furs.

Sihtric was already up, somewhere in the camp.

It was cold outside, snowing.

You were just leaving your tent as you witnessed an heated argument between your father and Haesten.

Cnut trying to mediate.

But Haesten provoked you father, by calling him a coward because he fled in Fearnham.

Your father pulled out a dagger, Sihtric holding him back.

Haesten walked aggressively towards your father but Dagfinn got hold of him.

Your father demanded enraged for the square, cutting the throat of Aethelwold’s spy and walking towards his tent.

He wants so see Haesten dead.

You went to your father’s tent, as you saw Skade exiting it.

You passed her.

You both not even giving each other a glance, before you entered and noticed you father’s hair and face already covered in blood.

That meant he was ready to fight.

“What was she doing in here?” you asked, meaning Skade leaving the tent earlier.

“She wants me to kill Haesten. She doesn’t want him to win” you father said, preparing to exit the tent.

You hold onto his arm. “Watch out father, he might be an idiot, but he plays very dirty” you warned him.

“I know what I got myself into my child. Don’t worry” giving you a reassuring smile.

He continued walking.

You followed him outside, to the square where the fight is going to take place.

Cnut is explaining the sanctions.

It is to the death. Valhalla awaits one man.

Then he got out of the square, standing next to you and Sihtric.

“Your father will win, there is no doubt. He is a great warrior” he tried to cheer you up.

The fight started really good for your father, killing Haesten almost a few times, even disarmed him.

He has always been a strong warrior.

When he was tying the knot to end this fight and Haesten’s life, he suddenly became disoriented.

He was reeling and not even able to stand straight.

Skade poisoned him, that snake.

He got that really quickly.

He tried to attack her, but she was able to counter.

Then you saw how she put out two daggers and sinking them into your fathers shoulders.

The world stood still. The only thing you saw was your father’s life left his eyes.

Your color drained from your face.

“NOOOOOO, FATHER!” you screamed.

Flashback to a village somewhere in Norway

“Your footwork is sloppy, and you have to hold your axe higher, try again!” Your father screamed as shoving his shield against yours making you fall backwards on the floor.

“Don’t you think you are a little too hard on her? She is still just a young girl…” your mother said, walking towards both of you.

“There is not such a thing as being too young to train fighting Helga. She got your talent, but she still needs to work on it” your father explained to your mother, who was a well-known Shieldmaiden back in the days.

She just rolled her eyes and smiled. “Alright my dear husband, I just came to let you both know that feast is ready” she said, still smiling while walking back to the Great Hall.

Still hearing your fathers scolding in the distant, what you did wrong this time.

When you came back to reality, you realized you were dragged away by Cnut.

“Hey hey hey look at me” you looked into his eyes, tears running down your face “your father is now in Valhalla, feasting with the gods, Brida made sure he hold his axe”

“But that witch drugged and killed him. It was an unfair fight, father would have killed that turd if she hadn’t interfered.”

“I know, but we can’t change a thing now. Don’t do something you will regret later, we still have to stand together as an army and think about your unborn child” he tried to calm you down.

It kind of worked.

You thought about the words Sihtric told you, that his Lord has to kill her to end the curse. But you knew one thing.

That witch will pay for what she did, either by you or someone else.

You went back to the square, where your father was laying on the floor in his own blood, holding his axe.

You knelt down next to him, laying your hands on his. Your heart is broken. Sitting there in silence for what felt like hours.

“We have to prepare his funeral. His body should not stay in this ugly world longer than necessary. Bring him into his tent and lay him onto the table. You” you pointed to some of your father’s warriors “bring a lot of stones and dig a big hole, we are going to bury him.”

You got up to walk beside the man carrying your father.

Sihtric was one of them.

When they laid him on the table, you told everyone to get out.

You wanted to stay with him one last time.

But Sihtric didn’t leave you alone.

He knew how it felt to lose someone loved, the same pain he felt when he lost his mother.

You just watched your father’s face, scared to forget how he looks.

You run your hand through his bloodstained hair and let your tears fall.

Sihtric pulled you into a hug.

After a while you let go of him.

Your eyes looking from Sihtric back to your father’s face.

Hand back to his hair.

“Everyone saw him as a raged and cruel warlord, bathing in blood and bewitched by some crazy lady. But to me he was a loving and caring father, raising me all by himself since mother passed away.” You sobbed. “He was everything I had” you sniffed, a tear running down your face.

“I know how you feel, I lost my mother when I was really young” Sihtric tried to comfort you.

“I appreciate you trying to make me less sad, but pain is never the same, believe me…” you said with a small smile crossing your lips, caressing his cheek with your other hand.

Your gaze back to your father, you noticed a small leather band hanging at his neck. You pulled it out of his armor and smiled.

“What is that?” Sihtric asked.

Flashback to a village somewhere in Norway

“Father, father” 5-year-old you shouted, while running to a tall man with a face tattoo, standing at the docks with his back to you, talking to some warriors.

“Father, look what I found”.

The man turned around, looking at you, waiting for you to stop in front of him and got on his knees to inspect what you were holding.

It was a flat stone, exactly shaped like a snail shell.

“Y/N my dear child, where did you find that?” He asked with a soft voice.

“I found it in the forest, underneath some moss father” you voice filled with pride.

“Do you know what that is?” “No” “Then let me tell you” he said and leaning in to whisper “That’s the sea snake Jörmungandr, and this stone was sent by the gods, to protect the person who will find it from everything evil.”

“Is that really true father?” You asked.

“Of course it is”

Your eyes turned big with excitement and as fast as you were standing in front of your father, as fast you disappeared.

Your father smiling and laughing as you run away to find your mother.

You showed her the stone and told her what you planned on doing with it.

In the evening at the feast in the great hall you stood shyly behind your mother.

“Go to him, he will love it, trust me.” She spoke gently.

She shove you in front of your father and nudged your shoulder.

“Father… I … I have something for you, it will protect you in all the battles you’re going to fight” you said nervously, while giving him a leather band with the stone you found as a pendant.

Your father looked at it for a while, turning it around, inspecting it.

His mouth formed into a smile.

The biggest smile you had ever seen on him. He hanged the leather band with the stone around his neck, picking you up and shouting, so that everyone in the hall could hear him

“All men want their unborn children to be sons, so they could call themselves blessed by the gods” he said mockingly.

“But only a man with a daughter knows how you feel, when you are truly blessed by the gods!”

Everyone erupted in cheering and laughing.

That was your favorite memory of him.

“He had it with him all those years…” you mumbled.

“Y/N, the stones are collected, the hole dug, the funeral can be carried out.”

One of your father’s warriors interrupted.

“Thank you, Halfdan. Tell the men to bring my father there.” He just nodded.

Everyone from the camp gathered together to pay their last respects to your father. But you wanted to be left alone with him.

You stacked stone after stone on his body.

“I swear by the gods father, she will die a painful death for what she did to you” you murmured.

When you finished, you stayed till the sun set, thinking about your childhood and the time you spend with him, then making your way back to the camp into your tent.

Sihtric was waiting for you inside.

“I know it’s not the right time to tell you, but tonight is the night to disappear” he whispered into your ear. You just nodded.

You were waiting for Sihtrics sign, a rock thrown against your tent. You packed your weapons as you waited, planning to leave everything else behind.

You knew that Skade will be with him, and justice for her will come soon enough.

You noticed them walking across the field to “collect herbs” around a nearby a tree.

You followed them discreetly, with enough distance.

No one noticed you leaving.

Arriving at the tree, the three men were already talking with Sihtric and Skade.

She was kissing Uhtred. His three friends were completely oblivious to the fact you followed.

Suddenly the brown-haired man with the beard noticed, pulled out his sword and pointed it at you.

You halted behind Sihtric and put your hands up. “I thought no one followed you Sihtric? Wait… I know you, I have seen you before, you are the girl from Dunholm, the warrior, the daughter of Bloodhair. What are you doing here?” He wondered.

“Finan, she is coming with us. She is a friend. She is carrying my child…” Sihtric explained. “Your child?” Uhtred asked surprised, “does your wife know about that?”

Your chest thundered with panic, your eyebrows raising in confusion.

You turned to Sihtric, peering your head forwards towards him.

“You’re married!?”

[dismalflo]

restless

Remus Lupin x reader who can't sleep ✩ 548 words

cw: fluff, Remus is very sweet, established relationship

an: definitely did not write this when I couldn't sleep last night

When you begin to rouse from sleep, you can tell it’s still the middle of the night. There’s no soft glow filtering through the curtains, no rustling of the covers beside you. The only proof of someone else in the bed is the faint sound of soft snoring and a warm leg draped over one of your own. 

It feels like you haven’t slept through the night in months. Remus has the same issue, but he always seems to drift back to sleep as soon as he wakes. You, however, are left staring at the ceiling, waiting for day to break

With tight muscles and slow movements, you start to slip out of bed, feeling a little like someone sneaking away from a one-night stand. But this isn’t a one-night stand. It’s your home, and you’ve been lying beside your boyfriend. Just as you sit on the edge of the bed, there’s movement behind you, making you turn.

“Where you going?”, his voice is scratchy and filled with sleep, eyes barely open, squinting at you through the darkness. You wince, not because he isn’t lovely but because you feel bad.

“M’sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” you whisper, hating the idea of disturbing him. He scrubs a hand over his face, trying to shake off the sleep, then stretches toward your side of the bed, reaching out to touch whatever part of you he can.

“That’s alright, lovely,” he murmurs, his words slurring with fatigue. “Can’t sleep?”

You hum an affirmative and watch as he reaches over to flick on the bedside lamp. Your heart squeezes at the sight of him—tired but still so attentive, the guilt building in your chest

“You can go back to sleep, Rem, I’m fine.”

He looks heartbroken at that, and his response is immediate. “No, not until you do, pretty”.

You suppress a giggle at how he loses his inhibitions when he’s tired, slipping into his flirty side.

You chuckle softly, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “You’re sweet, but really, you don’t have to stay awake just for me,” you say, glancing over at him. His eyes are still heavy, though they are beginning to clear.

But he doesn’t back down. His arm stretches across the bed to rest on your waist, pulling you back toward him. "I’m awake now. And if you’re not sleeping, then I’m not sleeping," he insists, his voice a little more steady, though still laced with sleep.

 His warmth is comforting, his hand gently squeezing your waist as if to remind you he’s right here. "You really are something else," you murmur, resting your head against his chest.

He hums in response, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand beginning to trace slow, soothing circles on your back.

You close your eyes, the motion of his hand settling you into something resembling peace. It’s not sleep, not yet, but it’s enough. His heartbeat under your ear is steady, grounding.

The minutes stretch on, and the tension in your body begins to melt away. The heat from his body seeps into yours, filling the space between you.

Finally, sleep begins to claim you once again, but not before you hear the soft murmur of his voice:

“Love you, dove.”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

let me know what you think of this! i appreciate all feedback <3

[winchesterwild78]

Daddy’s Girl pt 10

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (wife), Dean and Reader’s daughter, other characters from Supernatural

Warnings: fluff, angst, language, little bit of smut, 

A/N: Another collab story with @cheekygirl2309. This one is a rollercoaster. Delilah is growing up, Dean struggles with it, and Charlie is really having a hard time. 

This is a work of fiction and does not follow the Supernatural storyline. I do not own the rights to the characters used.

All work is my own and @cheekygirl2309, don’t take it or use it as your own. Reblogs and likes are appreciated. 

Minors DNI 18+

Months passed since the vow renewal. Dean and I had grown closer and things were better than ever. 

We acted like teenagers in love for the first time. 

Dean was the first to notice Delilah was spending more time on her phone and walking around with a smile on her face. 

“Hey, Y/N. I think Delilah might have a boyfriend.” He kinda smirked at me. 

I looked up at him over my coffee cup and cocked my eyebrow, “What makes you think that?” 

“She’s been texting someone a lot and she’s constantly smiling. Should we be worried or ask her about it?” His voice quivered slightly. 

“I can talk to her and let her know if she wants to talk to us she can.” He nodded and kissed the top of my head, “Okay, thank you sweetheart. I just don’t want her to get hurt again.” 

I nodded in agreement. I stood and put my cup in the sink then walked over to Dean. I put my arms around him and looked at him, “I know, Dean. We can’t protect her forever. We’ve raised an incredible young woman. She’s smart and able to defend herself. I’ll talk to her and if there is a boy we will meet him before they go anywhere, okay?” 

He leaned down and kissed my lips softly, “Yeah. Okay.” 

Walking down the hallway I stopped at Delilah’s bedroom door. I looked in and saw her on the bed laying on her stomach with her legs bent and swinging in the air. 

I stood at the door and heard her giggle slightly. “Hey Delilah, can we talk?” 

She turned and looked over her shoulder, “Yeah, sure. What’s up?” She asked, sitting up. 

I walked in her room and sat at the foot of the bed. “So dad and I noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time on your phone with a smile on your face. Is there a particular reason or possibly a boy that’s putting that smile there?” 

Delilah smiled and tilted her head down. She nervously shifted and bit the inside of her cheek. I touched her hand and she looked up at me. I smiled softly, “Sweetie, we just want you to be happy and safe. If there is a boy that has your attention, we just want you to be careful, and you know we have to meet him.” 

She nodded, “Yeah. There’s a guy I met when I went out with Angel last weekend. He’s a senior too but he goes to the private school in town. We hit it off and we’ve been texting ever since.”

I saw the smile spread across her face. I was happy for her, but part of me was worried she’d get hurt again. 

“So, what’s his name?” Delilah smiled wide, “His name is Lucas. He has a younger brother and sister, and his parents work at the school. His mom is a teacher and his dad is an assistant principal.” 

I nodded as I listened to her, “So have you two decided if you’re going to go out together or is this just a talking kind of thing?”

She shifted and I noticed she swallowed nervously, “Well, actually he just asked me out this weekend. I told him I had to talk to you and Dad and he understood. I really want to go out with him, mom. Do you think daddy would be okay with it?” 

I smirked, “Yeah, I think he will be. I’ll talk to him, maybe we can invite him and his parents out for dinner this week. Let me talk to dad and I’ll let you know.” 

Delilah nodded and hugged me, “Thanks mom. I’ll ask Lucas if he thinks his parents can do dinner this week.” 

I hugged her and left the room. I found Dean in our bedroom about to take a shower. He looked up at me and smirked, “Just in time for the show.” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

I smirked, “Later baby. I talked to Delilah and you were right, there is a boy. She met him when she and Angel went out. He’s a senior at the private school in town, his parents work there and he has a younger brother and sister. He asked her out this weekend and he’s aware he has to meet us. I suggested we have dinner with him and his parents this week before they go on a date. What do you think?”

I noticed Dean’s jaw clench and his breath was being held. I smirked a little, walking over I placed my hand on his chest, “Baby, take a breath. Us going to dinner with him and his parents is a great chance for us to figure him out.”

Dean let his breath out and nodded, “Okay, but he’s got a lot to prove if he thinks he’s good enough for my baby girl.” I chuckled, “I know, Dean. Just promise you’ll give him a chance.” 

Dean shrugged, “Yeah, I guess.” I playfully rolled my eyes, “That’s all I can ask.” 

Dean kissed my lips softly and walked into the bathroom, closing the door. I knew this was going to be hard for Dean. Delilah would always be his little girl, and he was having a hard time coming to terms with her growing up. 

A few days later we were getting ready to head to dinner with Lucas and his family. Delilah was nervous and had changed her outfit a few times. Dean was showered and dressed. He looked amazing. I had just finished getting ready when I walked into the library to find Charlie sitting with his legs swinging over the arm of the chair. 

“Hey buddy, go get ready so we can head out to dinner with Lucas and his family.” 

Charlie ignored me. I walked towards him, “Charlie, did you hear me? Go get ready so we can go.” He sighed and rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to go to dinner with her stupid boyfriend and his family. 

“Charlie, please don’t act like this. She’s worked really hard to get to where she is, and we have to support her otherwise it could hinder her growth.”

He scoffed and I looked shocked. He stood up and tossed the book hard on the counter, “This is so stupid. I don’t understand why everything is ALWAYS about HER!” 

I flinched at the sound of his voice and tone. Before I could say anything Dean was by my side, “Hey! Don’t speak to your mom that way. She doesn’t deserve that, and you won’t be disrespectful to her.” 

Charlie rolled his eyes and pushed past Dean and I. Dean started to go after him but I stopped him. “Dean, don’t. I’ll go talk to him.” 

Dean nodded and I walked towards Charlie’s room. I knocked. “Honey, can I come in?” 

He opened the door, “What?! I thought I needed to get ready, now you’re bothering me. Why can’t I just stay here?” 

I sighed, “Charlie, we need to support Delilah as a family. So we're all going to dinner. Please stop being so rude about it.” 

He scoffed and started to close the door. “Charlie, get changed. We need to leave soon to head to the restaurant.” 

Before I could finish my sentence he shut the door in my face. 

I furrowed my eyebrows and walked towards the library. Dean and Delilah were talking when I walked in. 

My eyes met hers and I smiled, “you’re beautiful, sweetheart.” She smiled, “Thanks mama. I’m really nervous.” 

I smiled, “I know the feeling. When I first met your dad I was terrified and I knew about his bad boy reputation. I took a chance on him and don’t regret it at all.” 

I smiled, looked at Dean and kissed his lips softly. “I’m glad she did too, cause I’m one lucky SOB. She’s incredible and has given me two amazing children.” 

A few minutes later Charlie came out and we headed towards the restaurant. 

Lucas and his family met us at the door and introductions were made. Lucas led Delilah into the restaurant by placing his hand on the small of her back. Dean was holding my hand and I felt it tighten a bit. 

I looked at him and his jaw was clenched. Giving his hand a gentle squeeze he looked over at me and I smiled. 

Sitting at the table the air was filled with small talk. I watched Delilah and Lucas and my heart filled with joy. I saw the way they looked at each other and it reminded me of the way Dean and I looked at each other. 

Dean and Lucas’ dad hit it off talking about cars. Dean gushed about the Impala and Lucas’ dad couldn’t wait to see it. 

Lucas and Delilah kept stealing glances at each other and at one point he leaned over and said something that made her laugh. 

She looked so happy and beautiful. 

Lucas’ mom and I made small talk about our hobbies and we bonded over baking and watching the kids. 

As the night wore on we all said our goodbyes, but not before Dean and Lucas’ dad walked to the Impala and looked it over. 

Dean was beaming with pride as he talked about the car and how he rebuilt it after the car accident. 

Of course Dean did leave out that the accident was caused by a demon. 

I stood to the side and watched Dean bond with Lucas’ dad. 

I looked over and noticed Delilah and Lucas talking and her face was beaming. Then he leaned over and kissed her cheek softly. 

Dean didn’t notice, but Lucas’ dad did. He nudged Dean and tilted his head towards them, “Looks like my boy is smitten with your girl.” 

Dean’s eyes landed on the young couple and you could see the fear and pain in his eyes. He knew his little girl was growing up and one day she’d find someone who would take her away, but he wasn’t ready for it. 

He noticed the look on both of their faces and it caused his heart to flip. It was the same look he and I shared all those years ago when we were falling in love. 

Dean looked over at me and I offered him a soft smile. He smiled slightly, but it wasn’t a full smile. 

As we said our goodbyes Lucas offered to drive Delilah home. We all agreed and I told her to be home by midnight. 

Lucas and Delilah walked towards his car and we watched them. He opened the door for her and then climbed in. 

Inside the car we noticed he leaned over and they placed a soft kiss on each other’s lips. 

Dean let out a frustrated sigh and ran his hands down his face. I touched his arm, “Hey. It’s okay. She’s not a little girl anymore.” “I know, and that’s what scares me.” 

Dean, myself and Charlie headed back to the car. Dean opened my door and I got in. Charlie got in the back seat with a huff. “Charlie, honey, what’s wrong?” 

His eyes flicked to mine, “Nothing.” His voice was laced with irritation. I sighed and when Dean got in the car he felt the slight tension. “Everything okay?” He looked between me and Charlie. I nodded, “Yeah. Everything is okay.” I spoke softly.

Dean drove home and when we got back the three of us got out of the car. Dean went into our bedroom to change and I walked into the kitchen. 

Charlie came in and grabbed a bottle of water and started to head back to his room. “Hey Charlie, wait a second. I want to talk to you.” 

He sighed, “What?! I just want to go to my damn room without being questioned every five minutes. I told you I was fine but you won't let it go. Damn, no wonder dad blamed you for everything. You can’t let things go! Maybe you should have stayed gone.” 

Before I could say anything he stormed out of the room. His words hit me hard and tears welled in my eyes. My breath hitched and I swallowed the lump in my throat, fighting the tears. 

His words repeated in my head. I had no idea why he was so angry, but his harsh words ripped my heart out. 

I passed Dean in the hallway, as my tears started to fall. I went into our bathroom and closed the door. My body leaned against it as I slid down to the floor. 

Dean followed me, but I was in the bathroom before he made it to me. He knocked on the door, “Hey, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

I wiped my face and tried to steady my voice, “Yeah. I’m okay.” “Sweetheart, open up. You sound off.” “No, Dean. I’m okay. Just tired and I want to get ready for bed.” “Okay, well I’m gonna wait for Delilah. I love you.” I bit my lip to stifle the sob, “I love you too, Dean.” 

Dean walked away, but he knew something was wrong. He thought it had something to do with Delilah, and knew if it was anything major I would talk to him. He didn’t want to push, but he knew something was wrong.

Dean sat in the library on his computer while he waited for Delilah. I had crawled into bed, but couldn’t sleep. My heart hurt too bad and I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with Charlie. That was what hurt the most. 

About 20 minutes to midnight I heard the bunker door open and could hear the muffled voices of Dean and Delilah. 

A few minutes later there was a soft knock on my door. “Mama, are you still awake?” Delilah’s voice is soft and questioning. 

I sat up, “Yeah baby I am. Are you okay?” She walked in as I turned on the bedside lamp. Delilah wore the most beautiful smile and her eyes sparkled. “Yeah I’m okay. I just wanted to tell you thank you for agreeing to go out with Lucas and his family. I really like him mama, and when he kissed me I felt something I’d never felt before.” 

I smiled and touched her hand, “I’m glad you do, sweetie. He’s a nice young man. I hope you’ve set boundaries with him.” 

She nodded, “Yeah. I was honest about what happened and he thanked me for telling him. He said he knew it wasn’t something easy to talk to, then he reassured me he would never push me into doing something I didn’t want to do. Mama, he’s just so easy to talk to and he’s a great kisser.” She giggled.

I smiled, “Well that’s great, sweetie. Maybe keep the kissing part from dad? He’s already having trouble with the idea of you dating. But sweetie, I really am happy for you. All we want is for you to be happy.” 

She smiled and bit her lip, “I am mama, really happy.” We hugged and she left the room. 

A few minutes later Dean came to bed. He offered me his arm and I snuggled close to him. I placed my hand on his chest. I could feel him shifting. He was restless. I smirked because I knew why.

I leaned up and looked at him, “You okay, Dean?” His green eyes met mine and I could see tears prick them. He shook his head no. 

I cupped his face, “Baby, talk to me. What’s wrong?” He took a shaky breath, “She’s got that look. The same look you had with me. My baby girl is falling in love with him. I don’t know what to do.”

“Baby, you just have to be there for her. If she’s falling for him we have to support her and offer her advice. He’s a great young man and his parents seem great too.” Dean nodded, “Yeah, that’s what scares me. I can’t find anything wrong with him and I feel like I’m losing her.” “Dean, you’re not losing her. You could never lose her. She will always need her dad, but she’s growing up and that means she’s going to find someone else to help care for her and her heart. You’ve taught her what her worth is and shown her how she deserves to be loved and cared for. She’s not going to settle for less than that.” 

He ran his fingers through his hair, “Yeah, you’re right. Still doesn’t mean I have to like it.” I chuckled softly and kissed him, “I wouldn’t expect you to like it.” He smirked and kissed me back. “I love you, Y/N.” “I love you too, Dean.”

*Time Jump a few months*

Delilah had just turned 18 and Charlie was now 14. I couldn’t believe my babies were growing so fast. 

Dean was still struggling with Delilah having a boyfriend, but Lucas had been amazing for her. She smiled more and was falling more in love with him. 

Charlie on the other hand had been acting out more. Since the dinner with Lucas and his family, he retreated more to his room, spoke sharper at me and avoided me. 

I never told Dean about him snapping at me and telling me I should have stayed gone, because I knew Dean would have flipped. I tried to bridge the gap between us, but he resisted at every turn. 

He told Dean he hated homeschool and wanted to go back to public school. I was resistant to it, but eventually I caved. 

Delilah had graduated and was taking some college classes. Lucas was in college too and would drive her to and from. 

She was definitely embracing becoming an adult and we were so proud of her. 

Standing at the sink washing breakfast dishes Dean came in and snaked his arms around my waist. “Hey sweetheart, Delilah is out with Lucas, and Charlie is at school. Seems like we have the place to ourselves.” 

He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at me, “Hmm, what did you have in mind, Mr. Winchester?” 

He spun me around to face him and I giggled. Pulling my bottom lip in between my teeth a blush filled my cheeks. His lips landed on mine and his hands held me tightly. He could still make my heart flutter and make me feel like I did the first time he kissed me. 

“I think you and I should go to our bedroom so I can explore every single inch of your body.” I clenched my thighs together and of course he noticed. 

My breath hitched and I nodded yes. He took me by the hand and led me to our room. 

The anticipation of what he was going to do filled my body with desire and need. His lips found mine in a heated kiss as he gently laid me on the bed. The stubble on his face was rough against my skin, but felt incredible. 

Dean started kissing down my neck and I leaned up so he could remove my shirt. 

I laid back down and he kissed down my neck and to my chest. My voice breathy, “Dean, please…” 

He smirked against my skin and kept kissing me. As his lips trailed down my skin I felt the heat rising in my body. 

Dean’s fingers unbuttoned my pants and I lifted my hips to help him remove them. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled my pants and panties down. Leaving me laying on the bed exposed to him and the cool air. 

His lips and fingers found my soaked pussy and he looked up at me with a devilish grin on his face. “Damn sweetheart, after all these years I can still do this to you?” “Yes, Dean. Always.” 

As he sunk two fingers in a loud moan left my lips. He was working me and pushing me closer to the edge. The sound of blood rushing in my ears and his praises muffled by my pants and moans. 

The shrill sound of the phone ringing pulled us back to reality. Dean looked at me, “Ignore it baby. I want you to cum for me.” The phone stopped ringing, then my phone started. 

Dean sat up, “Fuck! Whoever it is better be dying or worse. Because I’m going to kill them.” I giggled. He grabbed the phone and answered it. I saw his jaw tighten and could hear the seriousness in his voice. “Yes, I understand. Okay, thank you. We will be right there.” 

I sat up and my heart hammered in my chest. When he hung up he stood, adjusted himself and let out a frustrated growl. “Dean, is everything okay? Who was that?” 

“Everyone is fine, but Charlie is in a bit of trouble. We have to go get him from the mall. Apparently he stole my credit card and was trying to use it.” My eyes went wide, “What?! Oh god.” I grabbed my clothes and put them on. 

Dean grabbed my hand, “Hey, sorry about this. I really wanted to make you feel good.” I placed my hand on his chest, “It’s okay baby. We can pick up where we left off later.” I placed a kiss on his lips and we headed out. 

All the way there I could see Dean was tense. I had no idea what Charlie was thinking. His behavior was starting to worry me. Not only did he steal from Dean, he tried to use the card, and he was skipping school. 

Dean and I walked into the security office at the mall and Charlie was sitting in a chair to the side. He saw Dean and then he saw me. “What’s she doing here?!” 

I gasped and Dean’s jaw clenched. He stepped towards Charlie, “What the hell were you thinking?! Stealing, skipping school and now talking to your mother this way?”

Charlie shrugged, “Didn’t think I’d get caught, but rent a cop over here was faster than I thought.” Dean’s jaw clenched. I looked at the security guard, “I am so sorry sir, he was not raised this way. What do we need to do to take him home?” 

The officer nodded and handed Dean and I a piece of paper and the credit card, “You have to sign this. It states that he’s being released into your custody and he is banned from the mall for one year. If he steps foot on the property he will be charged with trespassing and will go to jail.” I nodded and Dean signed the paper. 

The security guard told us we were free to go and reminded Charlie not to come back for one year. He started to mouth off but Dean shot him a look and he got quiet. 

The walk back to the car was tense. Charlie flopped in the back and Dean opened my door, earning a scoff from Charlie. I turned and looked at him and he glared at me. 

My heart broke. I had no idea why Charlie was so angry with me. Once in the car Dean gripped the steering wheel hard. I placed a hand on his thigh trying to calm him, his jaw clenched. He turned to face Charlie.

“What the hell were you thinking?! Stealing my credit card? Did you honestly think you wouldn’t get caught?” 

Charlie shrugged, “Didn’t think I’d get caught. I wanted to buy something and I didn’t have the money. Your wallet was sitting on the counter, you were wrapped up in the latest Delilah drama and I saw an easy in.” 

Dean was beyond mad, “Charlie Dean Winchester! You were raised better than this. What does your sister have to do with any of this?” Dean’s eyes filled with a mixture of rage and sadness. 

“Ever since she got hurt everything has always been about her. She gets her way and nothing is ever too good or too much for daddy’s little pumpkin. I don’t think you know how to tell her no. I’m sorry about what happened to her but how long are we supposed to cater to her? Mom has always given in to her and dad you were right, none of that would have happened if mom didn’t give in to her and let her go to school. I still can’t believe you took her back.” 

I gasped and tears began to fall. Dean flew into a rage. I touched his arm and told him to just drive home. 

The rest of the car ride was tense and silent. I looked out the window and cried. Dean placed a hand on my thigh trying to reassure me, but the ache in my chest felt like it was growing with every minute that passed. 

Pulling into the garage, Charlie jumped out and went inside. Dean put the car in park and turned off the engine. 

He sighed, ran his fingers through his hair and down his face. 

“Baby, are you okay? You know I don’t blame you for what happened, right?” Dean’s voice is soft and gentle. 

I turned toward him, my face wet with tears. “You might not, but I still do and apparently he does too. I don’t know how to fix this Dean. Every single thing that has gone wrong or happened to our children can be connected back to me. I was the one who pushed to let her go to school. Then she got hurt. Now the aftermath has Charlie suffering. Maybe he’s right, maybe I should have stayed gone.” 

Dean turned and looked at me. His heart pounding in his chest, “No, baby. Don’t say that. Don’t even think that. You’re not to blame for any of it. I’m not sure what’s gotten into him, but I will figure it out. Baby, look at me, please.” 

My eyes met his and he wiped the tears away, “I love you and nothing will ever change that. I don’t blame you and I was a fucking fool for taking my anger out on you. I’m going to talk to Charlie and get to the bottom of this. He has no right to speak to you like this.” 

I nodded and took in a shaky breath. Dean leaned forward and kissed my lips softly. 

He got out of the car and walked around, helping me out. He pulled me into his arms and held me tight. 

When he pulled backwards he looked down at me and smiled softly. He kissed my forehead and we walked into the bunker. 

Hours later Charlie was still holed up in his room. Dean made dinner and Delilah, Dean and I ate. Delilah tried to get Charlie to come eat, but he said he wasn’t hungry. 

The three of us went to bed. Before I went to bed I knocked on Charlie’s door, “Baby, I left you a plate in the fridge. I hope you eat something. I love you. Goodnight Charlie.” 

He didn’t say anything and I walked to bed. 

Dean held me as I cried more. “Shh, it’s okay baby. We will figure it out. We will reach him.” 

“I know. I just hate thinking he’s in pain and is carrying around this anger.” 

“I know sweetheart. I’ll see if Sammy can talk to him if he won’t talk to anyone else.” 

“Thank you, Dean. I love you.” 

“I love you too, baby.” 

He placed a kiss on my lips and we fell asleep. 

Dean and I fell asleep. His arms holding me tight making me feel safe. 

About 3am Dean’s phone rang. He grumbled as he reached for it. His voice gruff from sleep, “Hello?” 

“Hello, may I speak to Mr Dean Winchester?” 

Dean cleared his throat, “This is him. Who is this?” 

“Mr Winchester, this is Deputy Greene. Your son has been in a car accident and is in the hospital. We need you to come to the hospital as soon as possible.” 

Dean was sitting up now, he reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. “I’m sorry, what? My son has been in an accident? Who was driving?” 

“It appears he was driving a 67 Impala. Registered to you.” 

“Oh shit! Okay we’re on our way.” 

Dean hung up and we both jumped out of the bed. “Dean, what happened?!” 

“Charlie stole the fucking car and got into an accident. He’s in the hospital. We need to go.” 

We threw on clothes, woke up Delilah and headed towards the hospital. My heart is pounding in my chest. 

Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.  

Tags: 

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@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 

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@rebecca-hvnstn

[bejeweledinterludes]

— ⌈ dean x reader headcanons that are way too specific and very important TO ME! ⌋

『 part 2 of @bejeweledinterludes’ headcanon series. 』

read my headcanons part 1 here!

↳ . . . YOOOOO HEYYYY here’s a part 2 since everyone seemed to like the first one! thinking about doing a solely nsfw headcanon post OR some chubby!reader headcanons for deano 😋 bc i’m in the trenches of ovulation week rn and my stupid thoughts have to go somewhere. also, if anyone had requests, i’d definitely be open to that as well! anyhoo enjoy my pookies <3

𖤐 ────────────────────────

> being a decent hunter, the winchester brothers had heard of you before, and you them— you’d heard stories, of course, but you never officially crossed paths until you were at bobby’s house at the same time they were. you’d known bobby— because everybody knew bobby—since you started hunting.

your greeting to them came almost as quickly as your goodbye, nodding at them with a “hey” while clambering down bobby’s front porch to your car, your usual bag full of weapons and books in hand— but not before you notice the jet-black ‘67 impala next to your own.

and you know your way around a car, having your own ‘baby-esque’ vehicle that you love more than life itself (can be vintage or newer model, doesn’t matter, because it’s yours). dean had noticed your car in bobby’s driveway immediately, too— who wouldn’t? the man had eyes.

anyways, you walk past baby in all her glory while nodding appreciatively— turning just a little to dean and tossing a free thumb towards her with a grin before saying a quick: “dude. bitchin’ car.”

and after initially being thrown off by the way you carried yourself, a mixture of confidence, respect, and almost familiarity— dean shoots back with a “could say the same about yours.”

at that remark, you freaking smiled. and dean almost fainted right then and there at the sight. you got in your car, and that was it, due to your visit to bobby’s house really being just a pit stop/supply run before you headed right back on the road again, a new hunt already waiting for you in montana.

> because despite sam and dean being the most good-looking hunters you ever laid eyes on, you weren't one to dilly dally over just a pretty face (when lives were on the line, of course). but somehow, you knew that you’d see them again. hunting wasn’t exactly a booming career field, after all.

> that being said, it took dean a while to get comfortable around you whenever you did end up working together— like a while. you’d only crossed wires with the brothers a few times, helping them out when you could on hunts over the next few years. sam and you made easy friends almost immediately, but dean took longer to warm up to you. but you didn’t mind, or take it personally. you never pushed dean to be your friend even with how much you wanted to be.

> when you guys do work together, though, you and dean understand every single pop culture reference you guys throw at each other. he was shocked when he referenced a classic 80s movie (it was weird science) while working one of your first cases together.

and not only did you understand it and laugh— you made your own joke about it. now you two can’t shut your traps once you get going (for the love of god, do not ask about die hard around them).

> dean and you have also almost blown your cover and gotten caught on hunts because you guys laugh/giggle too loud at what the other says (especially in serious situations).

your favorite running joke is finding old portraits of ugly dead guys, pointing a finger at them and saying to dean “huh, i didn’t know you were alive in *checks plaque under painting* 1837” (and don’t worry, he does the same exact thing to you.)

> dean once fell asleep on your shoulder during a stakeout/recon/watching a potential victim’s house and you didn’t move an inch the entire time. when you finally tried to gently wake him up, he had the audacity to sleepily mumble “jus’ five more minutes” into your shirt and cling to you like a koala in the car. you, being the saint and not wanting to argue, let him sleep for another 2 hours couple minutes.

> and soon enough, dean eventually came around. you knew he cared about you way before he did, but you never forced anything. he appreciated that more than you knew.

and it wasn’t just one single moment of realization like in the movies when dean knew he cared about you. it was quiet, simmering, and when he looked, it was already just… there. but the feelings he hadn’t noticed he’d been pushing down for so long came to a head on a hunt when you almost died— the way they always did when someone he cared about was hurt.

after that, something shifted. you could feel and see it, even if dean didn’t say anything outright to you. for one, he called more often when you were away— he’d need help with something you knew that he already knew damn well how to do, or with something you knew he had much better contacts for.

i mean, come on. he knows freaking rowena, and he’s calling you for assistance on a spell? and sometimes, he’d call for no reason at all, making up some excuse just to hear your voice. you never mentioned it, out of fear he’d stop calling entirely.

> because you always loved when dean called.

───────────────────────── 𖤐

you have two ( 2 ) new messages from the author ! ↓

i genuinely believe that i tweak out over this man at least 4 times a day stg. and the gif i picked lives in my mind rent-free. he looks so ethereal sigh i wish he was real 💔

ANYWAYS here’s my taglist (so far): @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @ambiguous-avery @maddie0101 @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @sunsbaby @emeraldcrs @h8aaz @honeyryewhiskey @supernotnatural2005 @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @figthoughts + if i missed anyone OR if you want to be added/taken off, please let me know! <3

[bambambwi]

Burning Desire ; Jealousy

༺ warnings ; contains smut

༺ context; ji yong, who's consumed by his jealousy, letting his uncontrollable impulses take over the moment.

You’ve been buried under an endless pile of work for the past few weeks, and it feels like there’s never enough time to breathe as much as you try to juggle everything, you can’t help but feel the weight of it all. Amidst the chaos, your boyfriend, ji yong, has been patiently waiting for you. With his album release just days away, he’s been consumed by rehearsals, interviews, and the pressure that comes with it and he had invited you to his listening party, hoping you could be there to share the moment with him.

But, with everything on your plate, you wont be able to make it.

You’d hoped to at least have a free moment to call him, but the second your phone rings, you recognize his name lighting up the screen. You hesitate for a moment before answering, your heart sinking at the thought of letting him down once again.

"Ah, you can't come?" ji yong’s voice sounds tired, though there’s a softness to it that pulls at your heartstrings. "It’s okay, I know you’re busy these days."

You feel the guilt surge up, biting your lip as you sit down on the edge of your desk, a sigh escaping your lips. "I’m really sorry, ji. I really want to come... I just—I can’t get away right now. Everything’s piling up."

His silence lingers for a moment, and you can almost hear the quiet understanding in the way he breathes. "I know," he says, his voice gentle but tinged with a hint of disappointment that he tries to mask. "It’s alright. I understand."

But you can tell that his words don’t fully erase the ache in his voice. You wish you could be there, support him the way you’ve always wanted to, especially with something as important as this album. It’s hard knowing that the distance between you, even if just for a little while, feels even greater now.

"Hey," his voice breaks through your thoughts, warmer this time. "You’re doing great. Just… don’t burn yourself out, okay?"

You smile, feeling the sincerity in his words. "I’ll try. I’ll make it up to you soon, I promise."

"I’ll hold you to that," he says, chuckling softly. "Take care of yourself, alright?.”

Yes, that’s exactly how the call went. You were frustrated about not being able to make it to his listening party tomorrow, especially since he was releasing his album after such a long time. Out of guilt, you spent hours that night having a long conversation with your manager, trying to convince her to cancel and postpone the work scheduled for tomorrow night. After much pleading and practically begging, she finally agreed to move things around. You were overjoyed to finally be able to see your boyfriend after weeks of being apart. The excitement and exhaustion hit you all at once, and you fell asleep before you could even tell him you'd be able to come tomorrow.

You found yourself doing photoshoots and advertisements from morning to evening, draining every ounce of your energy. Once you finally wrapped up work, you quickly changed into a black two-piece outfit: an off-shoulder top paired with shorts, white thigh-high stockings, and black mary jane shoes. Your hair was straightened, with black bangs framing your face and the rest of your hair flowing down. To top off the look, you wore white earrings and a beaded necklace, adding the perfect finishing touch.

"You look gorgeous, y/n!” your stylist says, finishing up with your makeup. You glance at the mirror, taking in the look, and then turn to give your stylist a soft hug. “haha, thank you!’’ you reply, appreciating her work.

It was almost 7 PM, and you had finished getting ready just in time to head out.

You got into the car and scrolled through your phone for any important texts as your driver drove.

Oh, I haven’t told ji yong.

Closing your eyes in disbelief, you muttered, "I should just make a sudden appearance then."

As you stepped out of the car, you managed to get through security and were finally allowed into the party. You walked in slowly, scanning the room for ji yong.

And there he was. Dressed in a casual blue suit with a hat to top off the look. His fashion was always a little unconventional, but he always managed to pull it off effortlessly.

The moment he spotted you, ji yong quickly walked over, grabbing you by the hand and pulling you into a hug.

"I thought you couldn't come?" he said, his beaming smile impossible to hide.

"Oh well!" you replied with a shrug, grinning back at him.

He didn’t leave your side, sticking to you like glue for what felt like forever, until he was finally dragged onto the dance floor to dance his song. You watched him dance, feeling a mix of amusement and affection as he looked super shy and awkward next to taeyang, who was absolutely owning the dance floor.

Just as you were enjoying the moment, you were interrupted by a group of men who politely greeted you at first. They appeared to be in their mid-twenties, dressed neatly with a firm, composed demeanor. They stood there for a moment, exchanging glances before one of them began the conversation with you.

ji yong, who had slowly crept away from the dance floor in embarrassment, tried to find you but noticed you were busy conversing with a group of people. He stood there, staring at you, hoping you’d turn around and come to him. But instead, he found himself watching as the man gently brushed a strand of hair out of your face while you shook your head and took a step back, visibly uncomfortable. Watching you with them stirred a mix of anger and jealousy inside him, fueling emotions he couldn't quite control. Why on earth did he just touch you? And, more importantly, why were you still continuing to talk to him?. ji yong spent the entire time at the party glancing at you, exchanging cold stares with the men. Once the party came to an end, he walked over, grabbing your hand and pulling you away.

"Stay tonight," he said, his voice firm.

"Oh? Okay?.." you said, looking visibly confused as you glanced at ji yong, who appeared cold and angry.

The moment you both arrived at his place, ji yong quickly closed the door behind you, rushing over to you. He cupped your face in his hands and immediately began smothering you with rough, urgent kisses. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. You were caught off guard, still trying to make sense of everything. The tension in the air was thick, and before you could process it all, ji yong broke the kiss, his breath heavy against your lips.

"Why were you talking to him?" His voice was low, sharp, laced with frustration.

"I thought it was rude to just walk away," you said, catching your breath, trying to steady yourself after the intensity of his kiss.

ji yong’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his grip on your waist tightened, his frustration still simmering beneath the surface. "You don't need to entertain them," he muttered, his tone softer but still edged with jealousy.

Without another word, ji yong closed the gap between you both, kissing you roughly once more. His hands were urgent, almost desperate, as he guided you toward his master bedroom. He gently dropped you onto the bed, his body caging you in as he leaned over you, his gaze intense, his breath ragged.

He started biting and kissing down your neck, his hands expertly removing your jewelry and tossing it aside on the bed.

"ji, what are you—" you gasped from the sudden intensity of his touch, but he silenced you by placing his hand over your mouth. His lips continued their path, trailing kisses down your thighs as he removed your shoes, carelessly throwing them aside as well.

Coming back to your face, ji yong leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. "He can't have you like I can," he muttered, his hand moving from your chest down to your stomach, trailing lower into your shorts. His fingers brushed against the fabric of your underwear, a light, teasing touch that sent shivers through you.

You closed your eyes, turning your face away from his, but he gently grabbed your face, guiding it back toward his. His fingers continued to rub softly as he whispered, "Look at me, darling."

He went back to smothering you with kisses, his lips moving feverishly over yours. You wrapped your hands around his shoulders, pulling at his suit and shirt, eager to feel more of him. He responded in kind, removing your shorts and top with equal urgency, the room filled with the sound of your racing breaths.

“ji, the stockings," you moaned, tugging at his shoulders, your breath hitching with anticipation.

He smirked, his eyes darkening with desire. "You're even sexier with them on," he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

You could feel the heat radiating between you, the tension thickening the air. His hands slid down your arms, tracing the delicate lace of the stockings, igniting a fire within you.

“Your mine, not theirs to touch and play around,” he whispered into your ear, grinding his hard length against you. You moaned out his name desperately, urging him to stop teasing and give you what you craved.

“Oh? You want it that bad?” he mumbled, still grinding into you, his voice dripping with playful arrogance.

“Yes,” you gasped, your body arching instinctively against him, craving more of his touch.

He paused for a moment, his breath hot against your skin as he locked eyes with you, a smirk playing on his lips. In one swift motion, he removed your undergarments, revealing your body to him completely.

Positioning himself, he gripped your leg, holding onto the delicate fabric of your stocking, while his other hand steadied himself. With a deep, deliberate thrust, he entered you, filling you completely.

A wave of pleasure surged through you as he moved, the connection between you two igniting a fire that consumed you both. 

You gasped, “ji, hold on—”

He silenced you with a deep kiss, thrusting in and out of you, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You clung to his shoulders, nails digging in as you surrendered to the sensations.

“Can they do this to you, huh?” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. “They can’t. You’re mine.”

His words fueled the fire between you, and you felt a rush of exhilaration at his possessiveness, driving you both deeper into the moment.

With each thrust, the world around you faded, leaving only the two of you in this moment of pure ecstasy as he drove deeper, you felt the tension within you build to an overwhelming peak.

“ji, I’m so close,” you gasped, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

“Oh, so quick? That’s not right,” he teased, thrusting into you hard, targeting your g-spot with precision. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but scream out his name, the pleasure coursing through you like electricity.

With one final, thrust, he pushed you over the edge, and you cried out in ecstasy, your body trembling beneath him as the waves of pleasure subsided, he collapsed onto you, his entire weight resting against you, enveloping you in warmth.

“Darling, you’re shaking,” he said, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, grounding you as the aftershocks of pleasure coursed through you. “I’m just overwhelmed,” you admitted, a soft smile breaking through the lingering intensity.

He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Might as well take work off tomorrow morning for those legs of yours.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “Oh really? And what makes you think I’d want to stay in bed all day?”

“Because,” he said, his voice low and playful, “I have plans for you. I want to make sure you’re well taken care of.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, the promise of more intimacy lingering in the air. “Well, when you put it that way, how could I refuse?”

[pinksugarscrub]

Strawberry Milkshakes

Skater! Hobie Brown x Ballerina! Reader

He was a punk. She did ballet. What more can I say?

Thank you for your patience! Le college has been kicking my ah so I immensely appreciate it and of course a special thank you to my beta reader @hyperfix-wip

word count: 1508

warnings: feelings? snooty ballerinas?

~

Your limbs are sore but you find no complaint on your lips as you sit next to Hobie. The pain isn’t unbearable. Not in the way it usually is after hours of being in your pointe shoes. The leather of your skates somehow isn’t grating compared to the silk ribbons.

You never quite liked the quiet before. Yes the streets were full of cars and birds were chirping- but between the two of you not a word was said and it felt ok. No…expectations.

Adorning the pink leather bracelet he had given you, (that you haven’t taken off since first period) you trace the studs. Wondering what to say just to hear his voice again because though you may like the silence, you like the space he fills in your heart. 

“I don’t think I fit in.” Spills from your lips and you’re not sure you’ll regret it until you see his response. 

Hobie shifts his attention to you at the sound of your voice. He’s confused but more than willing to listen as he gestures for you to continue. Gravel crunches underneath his shoes. Beat up, bleached, and hidden under torn jeans.

“I know it isn’t true but it’s like all of these thoughts in my head are real possibilities.” You continued, tugging on a blade of grass. “I know I have a place here but what if that doesn’t matter? What if that changes and I’m left behind?” Rolling your feet back and forth anxiously you look toward the setting sun. You spent all afternoon with Hobie and yet it didn’t feel like enough. The hours went by too quickly for your own liking. 

“I have friends but what do they think of me? Why do I feel so left out? Why am I always so scared they’ll pick someone else over me.” 

When Hobie’s hand falls over your own you want to tug it away. You don’t want to be comforted. It makes you feel weak.

“What if I’m not good enough for anyone?”

Hobie taps on the back of your hand. Lips pursed. The sound of laughter mixes with the city noise. Kids playing on slides that still burned from the sun and created static that made their hair stand on end.

“It’s lonely.” He finally adds onto the conversation and judging by the look of confusion he receives it’s your turn to listen.

Hobie pulls his hand away. Setting his hand on the grip tape of his board. It digs into his palms but it distracts from the lump in his throat. “I mean, for everyone. No matter who you are, you never stop feeling like that.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods.

A shriek of glee causes you to turn your head but your eyes are back on Hobie within a second. You want to hold him. Indirectly comfort yourself by being able to support him.

You’ve seen so many different sides to him ever since you started meeting here.

From an outside perspective Hobie always seemed so confident and self-assured. Like he didn’t need anyone. You guess that’s why before the start of your friendship it was easy to follow along with your friends. Laugh at his expense. Joke because you were too much of a coward to express yourself the way he did. You’ll never forgive yourself for being so close minded but you’ll spend the rest of your time together making up for it.

“It’s complicated, for me.” His voice grew thicker. Like honey. But instead of the sweet taste meant to soothe it's the way it uncomfortable sticks to your fingers and clothes. “I’m so used to people bashing on me it’s just easier to block them out. So I don’t have to think about it.”

The sky grows pink and suddenly it’s harder to see but that doesn’t matter. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“I don’t want to think about it.” Hobie says in a quiet voice. “All I’ve ever needed is me. Don’t want to admit I want more than that, y’know?”

“Yeah,” you answer. Eyes glossing over as you look away. “I do but…I don’t feel that way about you.” 

Hobie’s chest feels tight while yours feels like it’s about to combust. 

Hobie could fade out of existence or more specifically, your life after graduation. Less and less texts until he becomes an unknown number on your contact list. It’s just—Hobie Brown would never pretend to be something or hide from you. He was honest and kind and smart and oh…so wonderful.

What could he say in response to that? Hobie doesn’t know but he slides a hand around your waist and tugs you closer and this time, he doesn’t question what you are. He doesn’t guess what these frequent meetings have meant when you’ve answered his questions so perfectly.

Hobie presses his nose to your hair. He wants to kiss you but he doesn’t know if he should. So he settles for this. 

He doesn’t want to go home and what can he do to prolong the inevitable? He perks up suddenly as he inhales your scent again. “Hey, want a strawberry shake? On me?” 

Under the fluorescent light Hobie still looked beautiful to you. You find yourself wishing every night would end with the two of you under the stars even in this light polluted city. 

“Yeah, sounds perfect.” 

Hobie smiles. That lopsided smile that isn’t like the ones he normally gives at school. 

He almost slips and you try not to laugh because he must have forgotten he was sitting on his board. You take his hand and slowly roll to his car. Let him sit you on the trunk and unlace your skates. 

Your watch ticks five minutes past eight o’clock but you don’t care. Hobie is worth breaking your curfew. 

-

The air conditioning hits you in a wave as you step foot inside the dinner. Reaching behind you, you already find Hobie’s fingers intertwined with your own.

“How many?”

“Two please.” Hobie responds to the waitress. Grinning, he notices the older woman glancing down at your hands. “Thanks Joan.”

She giggles and grabs a few menus. “Right this way.”

‘Joan?’ You mouth once her back is turned. You wouldn’t have pegged Hobie to have enough of a sweet tooth to be on a first name basis with her but to each their own you suppose. 

“Written on her name tag love,” Hobie whispers. Tapping a finger of his chest and smiling when you falter in your step.

He’ll definitely be calling you that more often.

Before you can sit in the chair as opposed to the booth Hobie’s coaxing you into your seat. Squeezing your hand before sitting across from you in that same rocky chair that makes your back hurt.

You aren’t hungry and neither is Hobie so strawberry shakes are all you order and fries after you think about it for a moment.

You argue about the salty sweet combo of shakes and fries while Hobie pretends to gag. Nudging your foot under the table.

The sugar is the most satisfying thing you taste after such a long day. A tall glass of pink decorated in whipped cream and a cherry. Two, once Hobie plops his into your melting and quickly depleting shake.

It’s like you said, you don’t think about fitting into a mold or expectation. You just enjoy the happiness in his eyes and relax.

Someone plays the same song on the jukebox in the corner of the room for the second time. Chatter fills your ears and then voices you recognize. 

Turning your head you spot your friends. Freshly out of practice. You can already feel their curious gazes. Questions upon question coupled with disbelief cleverly hidden under the guise of concern. You won’t shy away if they walk up, you aren’t ashamed nor will you ever be of Hobie Brown.

“You should go say hi.” Hobie chuckles while nudging your foot again to grab your attention.

“Mm, I’m happy right here.” You answer as your eyes meet again before you burst into laughter.

“What?” Hobie’s eyes widened, caught like a deer in headlights.

“You’ve got-” You wheeze as you tap your lip. 

“Here?” He slowly grins. Purposefully missing when he wipes his thumb over his cheek.

“No,” you laugh harder.

“Here?”

“Oh my- hold still.”

Hobie leans forward happily on his elbows for you to clean the whipped cream on his lip.

“Thank you lovie.”

“Mhm.” 

You don’t move your hand away. Instead you cradle his cheek. Looking at him like he was the only thing worth paying attention to in the room.

You’re startled when he scoots back abruptly. Even more so when his voice cracks as he asks for the check. Then he’s taking your hand and running out of the diner. It’s all so fast it’s enough to give you whiplash.

“What-?”

“I couldn’t do this in there.” He cuts you off before crashing his lips onto yours.

‘There is more that meets the eye, I see the soul that is inside’ - Avril Lavigne (sk8tor boy)

-

taglist: @insideoutjulie

[gothamite-rambler]

Spoiler: Hey man, are you a crocodile or dino hybrid or a dude with a really bad skin condition?

Batman (scolding tone): Spoiler, that’s an incredibly inappropriate question to ask Killer Croc.

Killer Croc: It’s not the worst question I’ve been asked about my condition. I’m not a hybrid; this is just my skin. I get patches that look like crocodile skin.

Spoiler (doubtful): How does that even happen?

Batman: Oh my gosh, my apologies, Killer Croc. Spoiler, shame on you for asking that.

Spoiler rolled her eyes, continuing to play along.

Spoiler: I’m just a curious girl.

Killer Croc (pissed off): Look, I don’t know how it happens. Blame my parents. This isn’t a gimmick; I was born like this. I’ve been mocked all my life and struggled to live a normal life.

Spoiler: I mean, the circus is always hiring. Have you ever been in the circus?

Nightwing: Spoiler!

Spoiler: Oh, come on, like you're going to tell me he wouldn't be the headliner for a circus!

Nightwing (whispering): He would, but I’m not saying it out loud.

Killer Croc: I appreciate you not asking me that, and no, I wasn’t in the circus. This skin is itchy and dry. Jergens has never helped!

Spoiler nodded silently, her eyes shifting from Batman to Nightwing, then she cleared her throat.

Spoiler: CeraVe can’t cure the skin condition, but it has done wonders for my skin. Really soothin— You guys can glare at me, but I’m just giving the man some advice.

Killer Croc: I haven’t actually tried that. I’ll give it a shot. Can I go now? I’m headed to Florida. I know it's so funny for someone that looks for me to go there, but I’m on parole and just want to have a nice vacation.

Batman (flatly): Before returning and committing crimes again?

Killer Croc: Exactly. You guys take care, tell Roy I said hey, and Spoiler, I didn’t appreciate those comments about the circus, but I will try out that lotion.

Spoiler: You’ll love it. See ya later, Killer Croc.

Killer Croc walked off the pier where they were standing and began the long swim to Florida. Spoiler held out both her hands, waiting for her money. Batman and Nightwing both handed her a hundred dollars.

Spoiler (tucking the money into her pocket): Had me ask that man if he was a crocodile hybrid because you two tough guys didn't want to look dumb. The things I do for you.

Batman: Am I the only one disappointed he’s just a guy with dry and patchy skin?

Spoiler and Nightwing (agreeing): We’re not saying it out loud.

[quibbs126]

I needed references for Earthspark Elita, and honestly in doing so, I’m realizing how much I like her design in this show

Like genuinely, I just think it’s a banger, and I like how blocky it is. Also, she gets to be a car here, unlike Transformers One

[a-stars-art-blog]

Barok the physically affectionate my beloved