#I love that when he’s afraid of everything he can come to me and know I’ve got his back I love that I’m the only one he came out to

[sturniqlo]

shy!matt & shy!reader au

⛧°。 ⋆༺get to know shy!reader and shy!matt༻⋆。 °⛧

both sfw and nsfw

shy!reader and shy!matt are so fall coded

shy!reader and shy!matt who were each others first for everything and i mean everything

shy!reader and shy!matt who always blush after every kiss, whether it be a peck or a make out session

shy!matt who was so so shy (duhh) to go up to shy!reader when he first laid eyes on her, and once he did he was a mess, stumbling over his words, avoiding eye contact and red as a tomato. she found this cute and was also red as a tomato because she had never gotten that attention from a boy before

shy!reader who always gets into her head about not being good enough for him and shy!matt who always reassures her that's she's everything and more to him.

shy!reader and shy!matt who are lowkey 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓼

shy!matt who is always scared that he's going to rough for her during sex even though he's going the perfect pace, having her a moaning and whimpering mess under him.

shy!reader who always covers her face whenever he eats her out while making eye contact with her and shy!matt who slides his hands up her body to remove her hands from her face so he can see how her eyes roll back and how her jaw slacks

shy!reader and shy!matt who always love to go downtown to walk around while sharing headphones (they have the same music taste) and have a picnic in the park. they like to watch the ducks (especially the baby ones) swim around the pond. shy!matt loves to point at the the duck couple and say "look, pretty. that's us."

shy!reader and shy!matt who hate parties. since they're in college, they get invited by their friends to parties here and there. obviously they go together and they're always awkwardly standing in by the door people watching. his arm around her shoulders rubbing it with his thumb. usually after thirty minutes after 'socializing' they go back to his dorm to watch movies. later, he drives her home.

shy!matt who always waits for her outside of the lecture halls, usually he'll have a iced coffee for her and a vanilla scone or a chocolate croissant. when her class ends, she comes out a huge smile on her face knowing matt was a couple of steps outside of the hall and gives his a kiss on the cheek when she reaches him. his face cherry red at the small action of pda.

shy!reader and shy!matt who always hang out in his dorm because she still lives with her parents (she's less than 20 minutes away from campus, and his roommate is almost never there) and he's not ready to meet her parents, not because he doesn't want to, but because he's afraid that they might not like him (even though he's a copy of her) and because he's shy.

shy!reader and shy!matt who say 'i love you' very early in their relationship because they know they've met their match and are locked in for the rest of their lives.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡

an: can't wait to write for this au!! also, i've never seen anyone write this au before but if someone has written it please don't send any negativity to me because as i said.. i've never read anything like this!! anyways, send me any ideas or questions you have about out shy couple :)) [divider creds to saradika-graphics]

masterlist | join my taglist

[viennacherries]

okay hi sorry i need to talk about the lucanis romance for a moment and why i think it's absolutely perfect. spoilers below the cut ofc

so obviously there are a limited number of romance scenes. i really do believe in the case of lucanis' romance this lends itself to telling his story.

we learn through party banter with him and emmerich that his relationship with rook is his first. and that's not suprising really, he's an assassin. he faces death constantly and aside from the fact that he could die at any moment, being in a relationship gives his enemies a weak spot to exploit. love and the weakness required to accept and give it is a risk he cannot afford in his line of work.

then you add on the fact that he's been in the ossuary for a year. he was definitely sure he was never getting out of there. and then he does but he's possessed.

so here's rook. and they're flirting with him and being all enticing and he thinks they're great. but he doesn't deserve love and he certainly can't risk it. he's an abomination, he'll put them in danger. and what happens afterwards? when he goes back to taking contracts? it only takes pissing off the wrong person once for rook to be in danger. so he mostly just talks around it. tried not to think about it or aknowledge it.

and then spite breaks through for the second time. and there's rook. again. and they're soft and understanding and kind and they remind him that under everything else, all of the trauma and the fear, he's human. they make him feel so safe and he starts to let his walls down.

we can't know for sure why he pulls away in that moment, but i think it's because he reminds himself how dangerous it is for him and for rook. he wants them terribly but it's such an awful no good idea so he drags himself away.

but he still cares for them. he makes them dessert and he keeps them safe and eventually he has to admit to himself that they're not just friends anymore.

and then rook is taken into the fade by solas.

he never tells rook, you only find this out in a bellara romance, but rook is in the fade for weeks.

all that time, lucanis is there and he's just full of regret. because holy shit he's fallen in love with them and now they're gone and he should've just told them. he should've held them like he wanted. because now he can't and he never will again.

and then they're back.

and he comes into their room and his words are so simple.

"i never thought id see you again. i thought id lost you"

and obviously the rest of his dialogue can vary in this scene but all of it is SO weighted if you consider the fact that he really did think they were dead.

"i do. i know how to feel."

"it's one of the things i love about you"

"i'm not going anywhere."

he is in LOVE with them and he's tired of fighting it. he's tired of pretending he isn't. he's tired of denying himself of what he wants because he's scared. because ultimately he did lose them, despite how careful he'd been, and it hurt just the same.

"i know how to feel." because he DOES now.

so in the last battle, before you fight elgernan, he tells you again just how much he loves you. how he'll do anything he needs to to be back in your arms when it's over. because those weeks without you were torture and he never wants to do that again. he wasted all that time terrified to hurt you but you got hurt anyway. why keep pretending? why keep denying himself the person he wants more than anything in the world? he goes from 0-100 because this is so much more real now. there's so much to lose.

"i've assumed you knew my heart because it beats for you. it's been beating... when i wanted you. when i was afraid to want you... tell me this ends with me asleep in your arms and i will kill any god you ask."

this one sentence conveys EVERYTHING. all of his longing throughout the game. how long he has loved rook. he didn't say it because he was afraid. but he's not afraid anymore.

so much of lucanis' romance is about subtext. it's about the things he doesn't say rather than the things he does.

i think it's absolutely beautiful.

[cuntdevil]

EVERYTHING I AM (IT BELONGS TO YOU) • NANAMI KENTO

wiki statistics _ 783 words & suggestive content !

Sometimes you heavily pained him. Pulling away from his touch and denying him of what’s rightfully his. You. 

He hates to say it like that, but isn’t it so? You are his, and him you? Four trifling years in office and four more to come. Five years hiding what the two of you are, and perhaps the rest of his life with you. Why did you continue to push him away? All those nights, all those times he held you naked in his arms. You told him you loved him. What are you so afraid of? "Every fragment of my being is in your possession, and you wish to throw it away because of your fears? Look who's the coward now!"

"Don't call me a coward!" you retorted, voice raising as your heels clicked against the tile, stomping through the office. You spin on your heel, eyes lowering as you point at you. “Don’t you dare call me a coward when I’m looking out for your best interests!”

"If you were really looking out for my best interests, then you’d know it’s you!” His voice gets deeper when he shouts, booming across the room. You’ve gotten so accustomed to it that you no longer flinch. “If you really care, you know I'd resign as president right now. We'll finally have everything we've ever desired."

"Everything you've ever desired," you correct him, turning your back on him. Standing at his desk, you reach for a pile of documents stacked. You needed something to occupy yourself, not wanting to look him in the eye. 

"Are you saying you don't want me?" his voice lowers, rumbling against his chest as it grows raspy. You can feel him behind you, his body heat bouncing off his chest. His arms snaking around you, pulling you close to him as his lips ghost against the shell of your ear. His breath comforts you as you feel shame in the way you melt into him. 

You breathe, eyes shutting. "No—"

"It sounds like it," he whispers, thumb rubbing circles underneath your buttoned-up blouse, riding up from under your dress pants. You and him both know that he’s won this game this time around. His head dips into the crevice of your neck, blonde tufts of hair tickling your skin as he plants a chaste kiss against you. 

"Stop putting words in my mouth," your voice gets airy as his hands get more daring. 

"I'm not,” he responds. “I'm interpreting their meaning. Say it."

"Say what?" 

"Say you don't want me."

"Kento—" Finally, you gain the strength to pull away from his touch, hands slipping out from under your shirt, already missing the loss on how they cupped your breasts.

"Say it," he repeats, getting more stern with you. He wants to prove a point. He knows you won’t say it. 

"Stop your bullshit," you sneer when he tries reaching for you again, pushing away his hand.

"Say it!" he barks, making you take a step back. And when you don’t say anything. He smirks, a snort leaving him. "What are you so afraid of, huh?"

He takes slow, menacing steps. Your back hitting the desk hard as he traps you. “You want me—” his head dipping to ghost your lips. Both his and your eyes in search of each other’s lips. “—I know you do. Just give in.”

"You’re throwing away everything you've worked for,” you say, just barely above a whisper. You shake your head, trying to deter Nanami from making the worst decision ever. “Everything I worked for."

"And I’m grateful for everything you’ve done, but…" Nanami shrugs. Being the center of the country, it had its perks, but of the four years in office, he’s come to dread it more than anything. He wanted to call it quits. "This is a lousy job."

You don’t say anything, leaving Nanami to lean down. His lips peppering kisses on the corner of yours before capturing them with a deep intensity. "I love you."

"I love you, too.” It’s as though your lips move automatically, but you don’t regret it. Your chest rises and falls from the kiss, eyes dilating as you’re already drunk off of his lips. You love him. You do love him. 

"Repeat that for me," he whispers, the words never failing to make his knees buckle. 

"You've been wanting me to say a lot of stuff for you today," you chuckle, trying to make a joke out of his sincerity. 

"____.” He pulls away, looking into your eyes sternly. "Just tell me how much you love me.""I love you, Nanami,” you repeat with the fervor needed, saying it with pure genuinity. “I love you a lot."

( author's note. ) if y'all have watched scandal or have seen the tik toks, you know what i was aiming at.

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴀ ʟ ʟ ɪ ʜ ᴀ ᴠ ᴇ ⸻

Pairing: Show Aegon II Targaryen x Fem Reader

Headcanon: how would he be when he's obsessed?

˚꒰notes꒱‧ English is not my first language. Gifs belong to @joekeerys. Hope you enjoy!

Aegon never wanted the throne, never wanted the responsibilities that came with it, but what he does want is you. From the moment you entered his life, everything changed. You’re the one thing that makes sense to him, the one thing that feels right. Aegon is a mess of conflicting desires, plagued by his trauma, but when it comes to you, his love is the only thing he’s sure of.

Aegon has never had anyone in his life who genuinely cared about him. His family is fractured, and he’s spent his whole life drowning in self-loathing. But when you show him the slightest bit of affection, it’s like a drug. He needs it, needs you. You’re his lifeline, the one person who can make him feel like he’s worth something.

He’s incredibly clingy. Every time he sees you, he’s either hanging off of you, resting his head on your shoulder, or playing with your hair. It’s as if he can’t bear to be apart from you for even a moment. His hands are always on you, in a way that’s both affectionate and a little too possessive.

“I can’t stand it when you’re away,” he’d murmur, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. “Stay with me. Always stay with me.”

Aegon’s insecurities run deep, and that means he’s always on edge when it comes to other people. He’s constantly worried that someone will take you away from him, that you’ll realize you deserve better and leave him behind. His jealousy is all-consuming, and he has no problem making sure anyone who even looks at you the wrong way knows you belong to him.

If someone tries to get close to you, Aegon’s mood shifts instantly. His playful, drunken demeanor turns cold, his eyes narrowing as he watches every move they make around you. He doesn’t trust anyone—not your friends, not your family, and especially not his own family. In his mind, they’re all threats, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you to himself.

“No one will ever love you like I do,” he’d say, his voice low and serious. “You know that, don’t you?”

He needs to know everything about you—where you are, who you’re with, what you’re thinking. He’ll start off subtly, asking about your day, wanting to know every little detail. But soon, it becomes more than that. He wants to control every aspect of your life, making sure that you’re always with him, always safe, always his.

He’s the type to show up unannounced, drunk and demanding your attention, whether you want to give it or not. If you try to push him away, he’ll sulk, using his own pain and insecurities to guilt you into staying by his side. It’s manipulative, but in his twisted mind, he thinks he’s doing it out of love.

“You’re mine,” he’d whisper, wrapping his arms around you from behind, his breath hot against your skin. “You’ll always be mine.”

Aegon knows he’s not the perfect prince (and later king). He’s flawed, broken, and he hates himself for it. But when it comes to you, he’ll use that brokenness to his advantage. Whenever you try to pull away, he’ll remind you of how much he needs you, how lost he’d be without you. He’s not afraid to play the victim, to make you feel like leaving him would be the cruelest thing in the world.

He’ll come to you late at night, drunk and miserable, talking about how everyone hates him, how he’s not good enough for you. His words are filled with self-pity, and he’ll cling to you, practically begging you to reassure him that you’ll stay.

“You’re the only one who cares about me,” he’d say, his voice cracking with desperation. “Don’t leave me. I can’t… I can’t do this without you.”

For all his selfishness, Aegon genuinely believes he’s protecting you. The world is dangerous, full of people who would hurt you or take you from him. In his mind, he’s the only one who can keep you safe. He’ll go to any lengths to ensure that no one can harm you—not even your family or friends if he thinks they’re a threat.

He’ll isolate you if he has to, keeping you away from anyone who might try to come between you. He’ll even use his power as king to keep you locked away, safe in the Red Keep where no one can touch you. To him, it’s an act of love—protecting you from the dangers of the world.

“I’m doing this for you,” he’d say, his eyes wild with a mix of desperation and affection. “No one will hurt you if you’re with me. I’ll burn anyone who tries.”

Aegon’s love for you is twisted, born out of his own pain and insecurities, but it’s real. In his mind, you’re the only thing keeping him together. He’s broken, damaged by years of neglect and abuse, and you’re the only one who makes him feel whole. He’ll do anything to keep you by his side, even if it means crossing lines no one else would dare to cross.

He’s the kind of lover who would rather see you dead than let you leave him. If he can’t have you, then no one can. His love is suffocating, dangerous, and all-consuming. But in the end, he truly believes that he’s doing it all because he loves you.

“You don’t understand,” he’d say, tears in his eyes as he holds you close. “You’re all I have. I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.”

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[milktiicup]

H-h-hey.. senpai… I was wondering if you could make more about Mr Crawling! (I LOVEDDD YOUR PREVIOUS FAN FIC ABT HIM) because he’s such a cutie tbh and I love him sm so I was wondering maybe if you could make something about how he would react to the reader spending more time with someone else (coworker preferably!)

Feel free to ignore if you don’t want to do this..!

(Can I be 🦁 anon?)

the jealous type!

His face scrunches. “Not you… smell bad. Someone else.”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮ omg my first anon >.< ofc u can be 🦁 anon!!!!

warnings. more fluff/comfort hehe, spoilers for end04

It’s late when you return home. If it was any other day, you’d be scheming around the streets with your crowbar- but life is different now. 

You have a commitment at home. Your new roommate… boyfriend? thing. It’s almost as routine as having a pet; coming home, giving him a pat on the head, giving him his completely normal legally obtained soup and ending the day snuggled up on the sofa with him at your feet. 

Sure, he’s the one who came with you all the way from that other world and didn’t have any friends here, but does that mean you can’t? It’s not like you could bring Mr. Crawling with you to work, or after work drinks with your coworkers. Normal people can still see him, after all. He’s just… a little hard for other people to notice- you picked up on that when your parents dropped by on an impromptu visit one evening.

When you kick your shoes off when you come in through the front door, you feel guilty. You can tell he’s a bit down- of course, Mr. Crawling still tackled greeted you with his overzealous, unnecessarily over the top hug. 

“You return!” he says, every time without fail. 

“I return,” you reply, petting his head, but something feels off. He doesn’t let go immediately, and his usual enthusiasm is muted.

Mr. Crawling pauses, his face stuffed into your neck. You quirk a brow, curiously eyeing him as he takes a big sniff of your skin and clothes. His face scrunches. “Not you… smell bad. Someone else.”

Is he the jealous type? Wow, and since when was his sense of smell so good?

“You can smell my friend?” you blink at him, cringing as you feel a knot in your stomach. You try to explain, “Uhm… someone else… uhhhh… my friend.”

“Other friend?” Mr. Crawling frowns, sitting back on his feet, the space between you growing slightly colder.

You pull yourself up from the floor, careful to meet his uncertain gaze. “Other friend,” you confirm.

“Friend… same me?”

You sigh, wishing this language was more descriptive. It’s hard to explain something so complex when neither of you really understands it fully. You tap your fingers nervously against your leg, thinking. “I don’t understand…” you sigh, the weight of the misunderstanding settling on you. “They’re human.”

Mr. Crawling’s frown only grows deeper. He shakes his head, and scoots himself closer to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, his hair falling over the both of you as if trying to shield you from everything outside of your house. “Friend like this?” 

Resting your head on his shoulder, you let out a content sigh. “Not like this, Crawling.”

“You one. You me two. Not like three.” His grip tightens around you, pulling you as close as he possibly can, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “Me like you. Worry… not like me. Gone long time… Smell someone else.”

You pull back slightly, feeling the pressure of his arms around you. He’s not just possessive, he’s scared. You stretch your arms out. “Like you. Big like. See? This much!” You hold your hands closer together, parallel to each other. “Friend ok. Little like. Understand?”

You chuckle lightly, but the soft pang in your chest makes you pause. “You get it now, Crawling?” you mumble. You reach up and scratch his head absently, a familiar gesture that seems to soothe both of you. “Uhm… when I leave, I go to work. You know work, right?” He nuzzles into your palm, and you just assume he does, for the time being. “Work friend! Not important. You important. You, uh… you understand me?”

“Me understand,” he murmurs into your palm, his cool lips tickling the skin. “Smell bad… Me only like you. You smell good."

"I know you like me, Crawling. I like you, too."

He lets out a satisfied hum, his body relaxing again, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he’s truly getting it—or if he just likes the idea of being yours as much as you like the idea of him being yours. He pulls your head closer to his chest, and that’s when you decide you don’t really need to build rapport with your coworkers that much, not when you have a cute ghost waiting for you back at home.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Let Me Love You (Eddie Munson)

Summary: Eddie fucked up, and he thinks you wont love him anymore.

WC: 740ish

Read on Ao3!

--

The silence in the trailer was thick, hanging heavy as a storm on the verge of breaking. You sat on the edge of Eddie’s bed, your knees drawn up close to your chest, arms wrapped around them as you tried to ground yourself. Outside, the rain beat down on the thin walls of the trailer, each droplet drumming a nervous heartbeat in the background.

Eddie stood in front of you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting with the many rings on his fingers, his hair hanging like a dark curtain around his face. He kept his gaze down, almost as if he were afraid that if he looked you in the eye, he’d lose his resolve. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising with it, but still, no words came.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know I messed up."

You looked up, and the pain in his eyes mirrored your own. "Yeah, you did."

He winced, running a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends in that way he did when he was feeling desperate. "I don’t know why… why I always feel the need to push you away when things get too close. When things get good." His voice was raw, as if every syllable hurt. "I know it doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. I don’t know what’s wrong with me."

Eddie’s eyes found yours, pleading, hoping for understanding that he didn’t deserve, for forgiveness that he hadn’t earned.

You wanted to say something sharp, to remind him that he’d hurt you, that he’d left you wondering if any of the moments you’d shared meant anything to him at all. But there was an ache in your heart that softened your anger, that made your words come out gentle instead of harsh.

"You know, Eddie…" you started, your voice soft but steady. "I love you. I’ve loved you even when you’re a stubborn, difficult mess of a person. Even when you make me feel like this, like you’re holding me at arm’s length and breaking my heart all at once. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting for you to let me in, only for you to shut me out again."

He reached out then, his hands hovering near yours, uncertain, as if he thought he didn’t have the right to touch you anymore. "I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot, I know. But I’m trying, okay? I… I don’t know how to love someone like you. Someone who actually… cares about me." His voice broke at the end, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability in him, the fear that lay behind his walls.

Taking his hands in yours, you looked up at him. "I need you to mean it this time, Eddie. I need you to say it, and I need to believe it."

He took a shuddering breath, as if he were bracing himself for a leap off a cliff. "I love you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. But then, he said it again, stronger, as if he were willing the words to be true, to feel true, even if he didn’t think he deserved them. "I love you, alright? I love you more than I know how to say."

You closed your eyes, letting the words settle over you, feeling the warmth in his voice as he said them. There was still a part of you that wanted to guard your heart, to keep a piece of yourself protected in case he left again. But this was Eddie, and despite everything, you loved him enough to take that risk.

"Can I hear you tell me you love me again?" you whispered, your own voice trembling with the weight of the moment.

He let out a shaky laugh, pulling you closer, his forehead resting against yours. "I’ll say it as many times as you need," he murmured, his hands finally settling on your waist, holding you close as if he were afraid you’d vanish. "I love you. I’m yours, okay? If you’ll still have me."

You pressed a hand to his cheek, letting your fingers trace the line of his jaw. "I’ll always have you, Eddie. But don’t make me regret it."

And for the first time in a long time, as he wrapped his arms around you, you felt like you were where you belonged.

--

please don't forget to reblog if you enjoyed <3

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Oh goodness I am so excited to finally being able to read part two!

Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says.  Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?” Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you.  “Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."

And oh my word the two lines from Dean when she got mad KILLED ME. The:

"What's this, some kind of Latina temper?" he asks snidely.

AND

"Oh, I'm sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?" he snarks.

I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence.  He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room. So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space.  He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

Oh sweetie pie, Dean you're an idiot, but we love our little idiot even when he loses his temper because he cares so much. This part really got to me, because at first I was like "oh why would she stay with him in his room," but I get it. Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships.

Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.

Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard.  Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.

His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes.  And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms.  “You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing.  “Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.

This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀

Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless.

And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss. He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.   A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck.  “I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.

And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.

ESPECIALLY THIS LINE:

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

I don't know why that wiped me out after everything tbh.

Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead. 

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 

You truly become incensed at that. 

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 

Dean calls your name in frustration. 

“What?” you hiss. 

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 

Oh, fuck yeah. 

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room.��

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]: 

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@hobby27 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @emily-winchester @deans-baby-momma @melancholictearz @luvs4dria @nic-kolas @katherineann83

@sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @deanwinchesterswitch @freewastelandstrawberry

@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420

@candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @beskarfilms @skyesthebomb @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @iamsapphine @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @chernayawidow @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses

[lu-is-not-ok]

two in one theory... i am listening very intently if you ever feel up to share it!!

Alright, so this is gonna be... as close to an Abridged explanation of the theory as I can make, because if I went off on everything about it I would end up writing a whole dissertation or five hour video essay script on this shit.

There are gonna be three main sections to this post - Hong Lu's Daiyuisms, Hong Lu's Themes of Identity and how that connects to the concept of Two in One, and the Daiyu-Baoyu theory itself.

Strap in folks.

Hong Lu's Daiyuisms

If you know anything about my theories in the earlier days of Limbus, you might know that I'm one of the very few people who was convinced Hong Lu is actually Daiyu, due to some evidence I found personally compelling. This has not changed, as we've only gotten just as much extra evidence to this as we have to him being Baoyu. So let me just speedrun through some of these points.

The Fucking Jade Eye

Ok hear me out. This is maybe the least important piece of evidence but I can never stop thinking about it. Hong Lu's jade eye? Not actually fully blue! If you look closely on most of his sprites, you can see that he actually has sectoral heterochromia, meaning his jade eye is both blue and black.

Daiyu's name, quite literally, translates to blue-black jade.

Now, you could claim that this is merely meant to be an easter egg reference to her, but... is that really Project Moon's style? After all, when people speculated on Don Quixote being Sancho or a Bloodfiend partially based on her appearance all the way back since near launch, they turned out to be right.

Hong Lu's Father

As of now, there is only one instance of Hong Lu referencing his Father in Limbus, and it's a voiceline from his Base Identity:

Now, if you know anything about DOTRC, this should already be raising some flags, because if Hong Lu was just Baoyu, he would not fucking talk like that about his Father.

In the book, Baoyu is consistently shown to be afraid of his Father, for a good reason mind you, as he's his main abuser. Baoyu would not be looking forward to introducing his friends to that man.

Even if Hong Lu was trying to downplay the abuse he's recieved, this would still not fit his pattern of behavior. When topics that genuinely bother Hong Lu come up, such as what could make him distort or how rich people would enjoy gifts made of humans, he immediately pivots and tries to avoid the topic at all cost. He would not bring up his main abuser in such a lighthearted manner, he would avoid bringing him up at all cost.

However, there is a character in DOTRC which does in fact have a more positive relationship to her Father, and would likely be the one with an opinion such as that - Daiyu. Daiyu loves her Father, and when he dies she completely disappears from the story for a bit to attend his funeral. If there was anyone who would be excited to introduce their friends to their Father, it'd be Daiyu.

Lasso Hong Lu's Corrosion

I made a whole seperate post about this, but I might as well mention it here as well for the sake of completion. The design choices made for Hong Lu which are missing for Faust are very, very Daiyu-coded.

For one, not only does Hong Lu completely turn into a flower, unlike Faust, his horse also gains a flower in its mouth. For those whose knowledge of DOTRC is zero to none, Daiyu is a reincarnation of a Flower given sentience due to being watered by the Jade. I don't think I have to be the one to connect the dots between those two pieces of info for you.

The second is how the halters become a noose for Hong Lu. This, too, is a very Daiyu thing - Rose Hunter as an Abnormality represents the inability to escape one's fate, and Daiyu's fate is to die - the Jia Family arranging a marriage between Baoyu and Baochai leads to Daiyu falling deathly ill, which in itself could be considered a part of her repaying her Debt of Tears - the debt she swore to repay to the Jade/Baoyu when she was still a Flower.

The hilarity of the fact that this E.G.O came out in the same update as Hong Lu being called Baoyu in-story is not lost on me.

Rose Sign Abnormality Log

The third Log for Rose Sign ends in a very peculiar way.

There's multiple ways one can tie Hong Lu's odd reluctance to talk about flowers and the petals. One is the obvious "he's being reminded of Daiyu because she was a Flower" connection, but there's another one.

One of the most commonly potrayed images of Daiyu relates to a scene in DOTRC where she buries fallen flower petals, weeping for and lamenting the mortality of the flowers and herself. Hong Lu's reaction here to his fellow Sinners being reduced to nothing but petals upon Rose Sign's death feels like a notable parallel to Daiyu's flower burial scene.

Like literally everything about Kurokumo Hong Lu

The title for this is a bit of an exaggeration, but at the same time. I'm serious. Kurokumo Hong Lu is perhaps the most Daiyu Identity out of all the Hong Lu Identities we have, and the way he is designed to stand out among them further makes me go insane.

Kurokumo Hong Lu's most defining trait is his attitude - he often complains about his position and how authority treats him, though he doesn't really act out against them in any major way outside of making snarky or sarcastic remarks.

This is, frankly, an extremely Daiyu thing to do. Daiyu is one of the few characters who audibly complains about her treatment in the household. For example she complains about not being given as many opportunities to show off her poetry skills as her male peers are, and she recognises how, when all the girls in the family are given flowers, she's the last one to recieve them and thus is stripped of the ability to pick, being only given the leftovers.

Then there's the whole. Everything about Kurokumo Hong Lu's visual design. Because once you realize just how Daiyu-like the Identity is, you realize just how weird he is compared to other Hong Lu Identities. I mean just look how he compares to his other Identities.

He's the only Hong Lu Identity with a blue tint to his hair in the combat sprite rather than the usual purple.

He's the only Hong Lu Identity whose hairtie is a ribbon rather than a jade ring (Liu Hong Lu technically has the ribbon in his post-uptie art, but he doesn't have it in his combat sprite so I'm not counting him).

He's the only Hong Lu Identity to not be smiling in his combat sprites.

And he's the only Hong Lu Identity (and one of only four Identities in the game) whose Idle sprite has its body facing away from the opponent rather than facing towards them.

All of those combine to make him stand out like a sore thumb in a Hong Lu Identity lineup in a way that makes it feel intentional, especially since he's also the only Hong Lu Identity with that kind of notable attitude towards authority. Other Hong Lu Identities are either obedient, don't express any opinion, or just straight up are the authority.

The Baoyu reveal is framed in a very weird way

This is, admittedly, less of a Daiyuism and more of a not-Baoyuism, but I thought it'd be important to mention nonetheless.

There are a lot of things about Canto 7's reveal of Hong Lu's name being Baoyu that are very strange, especially compared to how the Canto frames Don Quixote's own reveal of actually being Sancho.

For one, the timing itself - why is such an important piece of info being revealed so early? Again, compare to Donqui - she was revealed to be a Bloodfiend in the Intervallo right before Canto 7, and the Sancho reveal only came in the second half of the Canto.

For two, the framing - Donqui's reveals are treated as what they are, Major Reveals. The Baoyu reveal on the other hand happens in a single off-handed line, with nobody reacting to it in any way. Neither Hong Lu nor the other Sinners seem to hear it after all.

And mind you, it's not like Limbus is opposed to giving us important information in off-handed lines - far from it in fact. Project Moon loves shoving little bits of foreshadowing and reveals you don't realize are reveals until way later in these kinds of off-handed lines. But the way those lines are treated is still very different to how the Baoyu reveal is treated.

Usually, when there's foreshadowing in off-handed lines, it's usually either vague enough to be something a character could say regardless of context (see Yi Sang getting hung up on the Sedatives bit in Canto 2 or Ishmael's comment about Syndicates pretending to be Families foreshadowing her own history with the Middle via Queequeg) or something that is in the middle of a scene that distracts from what is actually being said (like Hong Lu's distortion foreshadowing being in the middle of an important infodump or most of everything in Canto 2 being surrounded by a comedic tone).

None of this is present for the Baoyu reveal. There's nothing to distract you from this information, as the scene is already focused on discussing Hong Lu, meaning you're already likely to be paying attention to what is being said about him. There's also no vagueness about it, there's no way you can brush it off since not only are Wei and Xichun newly introduced characters, but it's a whole ass clearcut namedrop.

The only way I can justify that reveal being there in the form it takes is that it in itself is the distraction. Think about it. Didn't I point it out earlier that this reveal came in the same update as the E.G.O with an extremely Daiyu-coded corrosion design? Wouldn't it make sense for that reveal to be there to lower your guard, make you think you resolved that mystery, only to later on reveal it wasn't the whole story after all?

Hong Lu's Themes of Identity

So this section is a bit more vague than the Daiyuism section, because Hong Lu is the type of guy to just Say Shit all the time. It's basically just. Anything that I find relevant to the idea of Hong Lu's Identity being more complex than him just being a random guy using a pseudonym, with some (but maybe not all) of them directly tying to the idea of Two in One.

"Which one is the real you?"

There are currently two seperate scenes where Hong Lu muses on the idea of someone's identity being in some way vague or obscured.

Is Dante the person or the clock? Is the dreamer the one in the dream or the one who wakes from it? Which you is the real you? Does it even matter if that you will flutter away in the end?

This idea of there being one true self. That even if there are two, there is only one of them that is actually you. Curious, right?

Face-changing dance

During the Canto 2 scene where everyone gives their reasons for whether or not they'd be a good pick for being the one to dance, Hong Lu says this.

Bian lian is a kind of dance literally translated as "face-changing". It involves rapid changes between various masks and make-up to represent different emotions or characters.

Now, it's no secret that Hong Lu is a great actor, as we see in Canto 4, and Canto 7 shows how the comparison to theatre and actors can be used to symbolize one's performance of identity, as it does for Sancho and her Don Quixote persona.

Mind you, this reveal comes in the same scene as Sinclair's dance invoking the image of a bonfire burning all through the night according to the Mariachis, a clear foreshadowing to Canto 3 and the Literal burning down of Sinclair's home.

Hong Lu knowing bian lian could be further foreshadowing to his own skills in deception, and how he too is a sort of actor, not unlike Don Quixote. On the other hand however, it could also be a more literal foreshadowing, that he (Baoyu) Quite Literally changed his face. We won't know until Canto 8, but it is an option you know.

The HamHamPangPang dish(es)

For those who don't know, here is a list of the Sinner-themed dishes that were available at HamHamPangPang.

Now, chances are, not all of them have deep meanings. I don't think there's much of a deep meaning to Heathcliff and Ishmael's dishes, I think PJM just legit don't know much about British/American cuisine so they just picked something recogniseable.

However, not all of them are meaningless picks either. Ryoshu, likely a mother, has a meal literally called "parent-and-child donburi". Don Quixote, a Bloodfiend, has a garlic-based dish. These were clearly done on purpose.

So, what does it say that Hong Lu's dish is actually two different dishes? That he's the only one whose dish is two different dishes? And it's not like the two are in some way inherently connected, since they're of completely different cuisines. Japchae is a Korean dish, not Chinese like the Mandarin rolls.

And just in case you weren't convinced that Hong Lu's choice of dishes is purposeful - another name for Mandarin rolls is flower buns, and one of the special occasions japchae is commonly served for is weddings. If you had read through the Daiyuisms section and somehow have no idea what the significance of that is, I don't know what to tell you.

The Daiyu-Baoyu Theory (finally)

So. I gave some evidence for why I think Hong Lu could still be Daiyu despite being revealed as Baoyu. I gave some evidence for why I think Hong Lu could be a Two in One deal, or that at the very least there's something more complex going on with his identity. But let's discuss the theory itself, how it would recontextualize certain things, and why I think it's an extremely fitting an thematically resonant direction for Hong Lu's Canto to go in.

The Theory

Here's what I speculate is going on.

Daiyu, just like in DOTRC, is someone who was taken in into the Jia Household rather than born in it, and who strongly connected with Baoyu upon meeting him. The two would end up forming a bond strong enough that they would be willing to die for one another (or, if they're in particularly argumentative moods, to kill themselves just to force the other to have to live a long life grieving over them - this is an actual argument they have in DOTRC and I pray to god this is adapted into Limbus because it's too fucking funny).

At some point, Baoyu either dies or is brought to near death, likely through the same circumstances as in DOTRC - being beaten by his Father. To save him, his memories and consciousness would be transferred to his eye, a process not dissimilar to the one Xichun brings up in Canto 7, and implanted into Daiyu's body, causing them to become a vessel for Baoyu. This would be how Hong Lu as he is now is created.

All of the above is the main basis for this theory. Everything else that I might speculate about, such as the exact nature of the two's relationship, Daiyu's more exact background and personality, how their pre-reincarnation lives could be adapted - all of those are things that are purely speculative and ones that I don't really expect to be actually fulfilled. The only bits that I am sure are likely to be true is what I laid out above.

So... what does it all mean for the future? I'm glad you asked!

The Recontextualization

Here's a collection of just a couple of things that Hong Lu has said or is depicted as that would be heavily recontextualized if this theory ends up being true.

Hong Lu surviving despite claiming he didn't fight back when his siblings first tried to kill him: With the context that he used to be two seperate people, the answer to how he survived is made very simple. Baoyu is the one who wasn't fighting back. Daiyu, however, could have still protected him in turn.

The red ribbon on Hong Lu's weapon: There is only one other Sinner who has a similar decoration on their weapon - Ryoshu, who also has a red ribbon on her sword, which could be easily connected to Yuzuki and her death. With the context of Hong Lu being Baoyu occupying Daiyu's body and thus effectively rendering their self non-existent, the red ribbon could be a parallel symbol - a symbol of Daiyu and their 'death'.

How Hong Lu treats his weapon in his base E.G.O: The way Hong Lu holds his weapon in the illustration is more like he's cradling another person. This could be a representation of how he feels about Daiyu's situation. Likewise, in the attack animation, he's not really attacking with the weapon itself, is he? He's simply using it to direct a ribbon (which in itself is missing in the illustration), the part that is actually the attack. If the weapon in the base E.G.O represents Daiyu, this could be a parallel to how Baoyu feels like he's merely directing Daiyu's body to attack, rather than being the one actually attacking.

The duality of Hong Lu IDs: There is a notable pattern among Hong Lu IDs, and that is the focus on his attitude to violence. When he's in a situation where he's obedient towards his Family, he's either uninterested in violence, bored of it, or otherwise given no other choice but to use it as a reprieve from boredom. However, when he's in a situation where he's disconnected from his Family or otherwise questioning the status quo, he's shown to not only be much more aggressive and violent, but to outright enjoy it. With the context of Hong Lu being composed of two people, this duality could represent each of his components - the obedient and violence-averse being more Baoyu-like, while the questioning and violence-favoring being more Daiyu-like.

So, there's a bunch of stuff that would be given new meaning under the premise of this theory being true. But now, what about the future? What would this theory mean for the themes and ending of Canto 8?

The Resolution

I believe this is how the Daiyu-Baoyu theory will affect Canto 8.

At some point, whether before or during the Canto, it will be revealed that Hong Lu is both Daiyu and Baoyu. There will be an attempt to seperate the two, perhaps to implant Baoyu into a more fitting, more Jia Family-approved Vessel. Perhaps because the 'arranged marriage' from DOTRC could be adapted into something more... let's say Fear and Hunger kind of marriage rather than traditional marriage.

This will leave Hong Lu to be returned to their state as Daiyu, who will be revealed to be a very different person to what the Sinners knew Hong Lu as. There is a non-zero chance that Daiyu will be unable to hear Dante or be revived by them due to the one who signed the contract being Baoyu, and so they could end up acting as an uncontrollable ally unit not unlike Xichun in Canto 7.

The climax would then be Daiyu and Baoyu reuniting and being unwilling to part with each other again, even for the sake of returning to being the fake persona that is Hong Lu, leading to a potential duo boss fight/distortion boss fight/duo distortion boss fight.

The ending would be the two of them deciding to embrace their new identity as Hong Lu and truly becoming one, discarding their pasts and the selves that had been forced on them by the Jia Family. This ending would have a twofold meaning regarding how it connects to the DOTRC adaptation.

One - it would be a direct parallel to the ending of DOTRC where Baoyu leaves to become a monk. By becoming Hong Lu and discaring his previous identities, he'd be leaving behind the earthly attachments inherent to being Baoyu and Daiyu and become spiritually whole.

Two - it would be a reflection of the major theme of DOTRC, that being "Truth becomes fiction when the fiction's true. Real becomes not-real when the unreal's real." Hong Lu, as a person, is a 'fake' persona used by the 'real' Baoyu and Daiyu. However, by discarding those two identities and deciding to just be Hong Lu, the fiction of his existence becomes the truth, while his former real selves become not real.

Conclusion?

I could honestly just keep going with this post, but I think I'm going to stop myself here before I'm forced to find out what tumblr's character limit on posts is. Believe me, I was trying to be brief, and still this post is. This fucking long.

I hope this explains why this theory has been the subject of my brainrot for the past however long, and why I feel like it's surprisingly plausible despite being as deranged as it is.

Godspeed and godbless, I have classes tomorrow and I'm spending my time on this.

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 23: Comfort/Crying

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Comfort/Crying (🌼)

Summary: You’ve had a shitty couple of months, trying to hold on for the sake of everyone around you, but you can only take so much…

Warnings: Angst, crying, slight allusions to depression, self-loathing, hurt/comfort, not proof-read

Word Count: 982

A/n: This prompt hits differently now than it would have when I intended to post it, but now it also comes at the right time because I do feel like we have all cried a lot lately. I know I have, and I could use some good old Matty comfort right about now. Like, a hug would be enough.

Read Me On AO3! (coming soon)

You’re tired. 

You’re so tired.

Life has had quite the habit of beating you down lately, and you are so exhausted you just want to disappear. You are expected to function, but how can you when you’re already falling apart?

“Hey,” Matt says softly from the doorway. “You okay?”

You don’t look up from the onions you’re cutting. He just got home from court; the last thing he wants is to listen to you bitch and moan about what a shitty month you’ve had. 

You have to function because there are people who depend on you. If you’re not strong for him, what is the point? In your mind, at least, that makes sense, twisted as it may be—and it is incredibly twisted.

“Yeah,” you lie. “Just… making dinner.”

The vegetable’s gases burn in your eyes. You’re shaking, but that must be all the caffeine you had after yet another sleepless night. Matt is gone so much, during the day as this kindhearted lawyer who fights for the rights of the innocent, and at night as Daredevil, he doesn’t know how you keep tossing and turning when he’s not there. You can’t blame him for having his own shit to deal with; he’s a good boyfriend, and you love him to pieces, but you can’t talk to him. 

You don’t want him to worry because you know he would burn the world down if it meant you could be free of all this pain. He would find a way to exorcize the hell out of the demons in your head, wrap you in cotton, and keep you safe from the storm raging outside. He would let go of everything just to be with you, and you refuse to let yourself be this fucking selfish. Because people depend on him, too. 

But oh, you are truly falling apart at the seams. Too much to feel, too much to think about—it is a painful weight on your chest threatening to crush you. There is no reason behind it, just a myriad of disasters balled into one, and the avalanche is about to take you away. 

Matt reaches out, fingers brushing your shoulder. “You sure?” he asks. 

You swallow the lump in your throat. 

“You’re crying.”

“It’s the onions,” you say. “The, uh, fumes…”

“Okay.” 

He doesn’t have to acknowledge the fact that you’re crying to know something is wrong with you. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you flush against his chest. 

He’s your sanctuary. 

His hand hovers over the one holding the knife.  “Let go,” he says. “Let go…” 

Your fingers loosen around the handle. Matt catches it, wasting no time to place it aside before you can hurt yourself on the sharp edge of its blade. His voice is a mere breath against your heated temple. “That’s it. It’s okay.”

You can barely breathe, your arms flailing around helplessly. Matt doesn’t dare let go of you, afraid you might fall apart if he loosens his hold, so he squeezes his arms around you until you are enveloped in a cocoon of him, and the world outside disappears.

He shushes in your ear. Gentle whispers of, ‘You’re okay. I’ve got you,’ course through your veins like a balm for your weary soul. You’ve been holding on for the sake of the people around you for too long; it rolls over you like a boulder. You can no longer stop it. 

His hands find yours, intertwining your fingers as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Let it out,” he says. 

The tears run down your cheek in an endless flood. It’s ugly, messy, and feels like too much, but Matt doesn’t pull away. He stands there, absorbing every bit of it, trying to work as a sponge to soak up what’s hurting you. He would rather have you take the pain out on him than suffer through any of this alone.

When you finally manage to suck in a deep, shuddering breath, you’re exhausted—wrung out. Wrecked. But there is a sudden emptiness where the crushing weight of the world on your shoulders used to be. 

You finally lift your head, tearful eyes staring back into his. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

He shushes you. “You needed to cry. It’s okay.”

You whimper at the tenderness in his voice. 

“It’s okay to lean on me.” He turns you around to him, pressing your face into his chest. “Just promise me you’ll come to me next time.” A kiss melts against your temple. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

A sharp breath burns the tender flesh of your lungs. “No, I–” you stammer. “I have t–”

He cuts you off, his own voice on the verge of breaking. “You don’t. You’re not alone, sweetheart. Not anymore.”

The dam might be breaking, but he is right there to pick up the pieces before they can get lost in the current with the shards of your broken heart. He patches you up the only way he knows how: with his hands and silent declarations of his undying love. 

And it really is undying, you realize. He loves you when you’re put together, and he loves you when you’re broken. He loves you without a doubt or second thought. He loves you unconditionally, wholly, and he would go to the ends of the earth for you. 

You’re not alone. You might have been once, but not since you met him. Not since he walked into your life and turned it all upside-down. 

You filled each other’s empty hearts like it was the only thing to do.

You don’t have to deal with these demons on your own anymore because Matt will always be there for you, no matter how much you loathe your miserable self. He will always be there to pick up the pieces, and you will never have to be alone again.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @ravenclaw617 @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

[rebeltigera]

Absolutely obsessed with V!Wukong and Blind!Macaque.

I have questions, overall comments and some hypothesized things. (Feel free to ignore or not answer all of them, but the ADHD has kicked in and I gotta splurge because YES)

OKAY! So;

You’ve mentioned in the past that B!Macaque is terrified of Wukong because of what was done to him, PTSD is a bitch. How would V!Wukong get around this to show that, to Mac, he’s not a threat?

* My first thought was, oh! He could start leaving his things around that smell like him so Macaque gets used to his smell, but that seemed more like training a dog, so probably not. But maybe?

Would V! Wukong try and steal Macaque some new eyes that work or an elixir that could heal his sight? Is it possible for his sight to even be healed at this point? Is that something Macaque would even want?

Once some time has passed and Macaque got more comfortable with this Wukong, would Macaque show his growing trust for V!Wukong by grooming his fur? Or allowing V!Wukong to groom him?

How would they show their growing intimately outside of… well, physical affection? Would they feed one another? Pick out clothes they know the other likes? Little things unique to them.

Would V!Wukong ever tell B!Macaque about his macaque? And if he did, how long would it take him to open up? Same scenario with Macaque, how long would it take him to open up?

I like to imagine that the word “Destiny” is a forbidden word for both of them. Neither of them like hearing it. Good way to get V!Wikong to start growling.

Your B!Macaque is so beautiful, he reminds me of a delicate crystal flower, I like to imagine V!Wukong is scared to touch him for a while because he’s afraid he’ll break him further.

V!Wukong violently protecting B!Macaque is something that just makes my heart happy for some reason, and B!Macaque gently cleaning up and healing him afterwards even though V!Wukong is the last person who’d ever need healing is such a tender vision in my mind.

Okay, I believe that’s the end of my rambling. I can’t think of anything else at the moment. I hope you have a wonderful day!

THE TISM HAS TISMED AAAA LOVE IT-

IDK why y'all decided that this ship is interesting after like - one art sksksmssm

But alr

... Oh boy the first one -

To be honest? I Don't know, maybe it would be his charm, the little things he'd do , or that he'd rescue Mac from falling into his own shadows. I didn't ever thought much about it

Mac wouldn't notice him at first . His heartbeat concealed, his power too. Wukong would indeed leave little things around but not in a "find my smell comforting way" . He would do that , move cluttery n dishes to more accessible places. Mac tend to leave them in the sun (to see them through shadows) but once the sun is gone they are gone from his view cuz they don't leave shadow anymore or are concealed by it.

Mac's eyes are not able to heal anymore. However Wukong would find a way to connect in a way their eyes. It wouldn't be permanent thing , just sometimes. See what I see kind of thing

Mac might not want but would need it. Because the last thing he saw was Wukong striking him . And it stuck like super glue.

Wukong might be the one to get a grooming session first. He'd be so confused and scared in a way . Like- he wouldn't expect that and sit obediently like a puppet till Mac would be done . Wukong wouldn't get to touch his fur tho.

Casual Physical affection would be everything to them . Because they both would be reluctant to it at the start .

Wukong wanting to touch but never doing so , Mac starved for it but never asking for it .

So their trust would be shown by it fully .

One thing that I can think of rn is that wuk would wake him up by gentle touches. He relies mostly on his hearing nowadays so it would be nice n comforting.

Whisper when he'd get a feeling Mac would get overwhelmed.

Outside of it , cooking , clothing etc etc - yeah it would happen

About telling him about his task- he wouldn't. Coming to that universe his memories become no more than flashes of the past. He doesn't even know what he searched so long for . He still get flashes of past Mihou and it brings him pang of pain but it'll pass.

For Mac to open up- months? Maybe years . Once he'd realize that V!Wuk is not a threat It would be easier. Wukong got nothing to hide from him so he'd be open like a book.

Mac speaking of destiny

Wukong growling it's bullshit, while hugging him closer

He'd get some pats.

The other moments he might growl more would be in safe heaven called nest, but it's story for a different acc sksksks

Wukong indeed would be scared to hurt him. Those bloodied hands are the one that destroy everything. He wouldn't dare to taint Mac with em. He would have moments when he'd think if he held him too strong he might crush him . Just like that.

The last thing might've happen , but wukong would rather want to keep to himself if he'd ever got hurt or dirty with blood . Mac is too pure.

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

Where Goodbyes Fade~Jude Bellingham

The rain pounded against the car windows as I drove towards Jude’s house. We’d gone out to dinner for what was supposed to be the last time. After months of trying and endless discussions, we had decided to end things. It just wasn’t working anymore—or at least, that’s what we kept telling ourselves.

I parked outside his house. I sat there, hands gripping the wheel, staring at his front door. I should have just left, said goodbye, and moved on. But something held me back.

Finally, I sighed and got out of the car. Jude opened the door just as I knocked, and despite the grey sky and the tired look on his face, he had that faint, familiar smile.

“I thought you’d already gone,” he said, looking at me with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

“Yeah… I thought so too,” I replied, holding my breath as our eyes met. It felt like it had been ages since we’d looked at each other that way.

“What made you come back?” he asked, and I heard a note of hope in his voice, even though he tried to hide it.

I shook my head, unable to give him a clear answer. “I don’t know. It just felt like… something was missing,” I whispered.

He looked down and gestured for me to come inside. He closed the door behind me, and the silence in the room became heavy. I felt more vulnerable than ever. We looked at each other for a moment without saying anything, but there was so much between us that every word seemed unnecessary.

After a long pause, Jude stepped closer. “So… we should say goodbye, right?”

The words hit me, but I nodded weakly, trying to seem sure of myself. “Yes, it would be… better for both of us.”

“Better?” he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe that word. “God, do you really think this is the right thing?”

“I don’t know, Jude. We’ve tried so many times… we’ve been at this point for too long.”

He took a step back, running a hand through his hair—a gesture I knew well. “Maybe we’re just afraid to go all the way. Maybe we never allowed ourselves to truly surrender to each other,” he said in a low voice, almost as if he were speaking to himself.

I moved closer to him, looking into his eyes. “Jude, if there are things we haven’t said… it’s time to say them.”

He was silent for a moment, then moved his hand to my face, brushing a strand of hair aside. “I’m going to miss you,” he whispered hoarsely, his words thick with an emotion I couldn’t ignore.

“Stop it…” I replied in a low voice, but without any conviction. My heart was pounding, as if it had been waiting to hear exactly that.

“Will you really miss me?” he asked, almost as a challenge, and I saw the determination in his eyes, that same spark that had made me fall in love with him.

“Every single day,” I answered, unable to hold back the truth any longer.

Suddenly, Jude stepped even closer, so close that our breaths mingled. I could feel his warmth, his familiar scent, and every fiber of my being cried out for him.

“Tell me you hate me, if that’s really what you want,” he whispered, his lips just a breath away from mine. “Tell me you don’t need me anymore.”

“I can’t,” I answered, and in that moment, all my determination collapsed. His hands found my cheeks, and the world seemed to stop.

Suddenly, his face was so close that he was all I could see, his lips finding mine in a kiss loaded with everything we had kept hidden for far too long. His arms wrapped around me, and I held onto him as if he were the only thing that mattered.

After a moment, we pulled apart, breathless, but he still held me tightly, as if afraid I might disappear at any second.

“I can’t let you go,” he murmured, his face tense with genuine pain.

“Neither can I,” I replied, unable to hold back the tears. “Maybe we need each other more than we want to admit.”

He smiled, brushing his lips against mine once more. “Then let’s stay. Let’s put away every doubt and this time… really give it a shot.”

And in that moment, I realized that sometimes, even when you think you want to close a door, your heart knows the right choice all along.

[ficandkaboodle]

Now for everybody’s favorite opinion-based game they might not admit to playing but absolutely do play in nearly every fandom they’re in:

✨🫦Does That Man Moan in Bed?!👄✨

(Sponsored by Monster Energy: We lied, we are Satanic)

Papa Nihil: Yes. Just. Yes. This man moans like a little bitch even when he’s topping. And growls. And whimpers. Even if it’s someone he’s not really into all that much. Honestly, it seems very exaggerated on his part like he’s trying to be a porn star but no, those are very real sounds he’s letting into the air like that, He just takes every ounce of pleasure he can get from the stimuli and that’s enough to make him drown out every single noise that isn’t him and maybe a bit of the bed putting up a fight.

Papa Primo: No. Lack of interest in foreplay aside, I think even a saner, more pleasant-in-bed Primo isn’t particularly noisy in bed. He comes off more as a heavy breathing, occasional panting or grunting type of guy to me. Maybe a sigh here or there. If anything, the most noise I can see him making an effort in making is either dirty talk or reciting the text for the sexual magick ritual you’re performing. You might even think he’s not into it but rest assured, he absolutely is. He’s just not a particularly bombastic person by nature, and this carries over into the bedroom. He’ll show other signs he’s into it if you think his regular sounds aren’t enough, though.

Papa Secondo: Yes but unless you two have been together a good while and he trusts you, you’d likely never know. Secondo, for as flamboyant as he can actually be outside of his robes, probably sees moaning as a sign of weakness. That, or he’s embarrassed of how he sounds. (And has probably accidentally overheard his gross old man a few times. Frankly it’s a miracle he didn’t wind up completely disgusted by sex.) He tries to make “strong manly noises”: He’s taught himself how to contort those sounds into tooth-clenching grunts and forcing himself through words unbroken. They’re sexy for sure, but when you’ve finally reached a point where he lets you hear his real sounds, you can’t help but notice an extra layer of warmth to his voice. Simultaneously, it’s lighter; more floating. Even if he trusts you now, though, he’s still going to be embarrassed about it so make sure you make it clear to him that you adore his noises and would certainly love to hear more.

Papa Terzo: Yes. Kind of. Terzo does moan, but it’s actually naturally quieter than what sounds he winds up giving in bed. He’s so used to playing everything up and bolstering peoples’ expectations of him as this flamboyant slut of a man that most of what noises he makes in bed are just exaggerations of what he actually does. He tends to make much softer moans and sighs compared to the absolutely pornographic noises most lovers wind up hearing. He tries to justify it internally as helping to arouse his partner, bringing them to that cherished orgasm, of course, the thing is that because he’s so focused on how he thinks he should sound, he doesn’t always feel every inch of his own release. Much like Secondo, I think the real sounds come through when he knows you can be trusted and isn’t afraid of you seeing the real him, warts and all. He feels much more relaxed and you can feel the depth of adoration he has for you now that he’s not so focused on putting on a show.

Papa Copia: He does but honestly? He’s more of a gasper and whimperer. Higher-pitched noises. It’s an awful thing to have inherited from Nihil, all things considered, but it makes the most sense at least to me. He’s always been a bit shy in one-on-one interactions with people. Add in a splash of possible humiliation when his peers might’ve overheard him and started calling him a Rat Boy and he might’ve just developed a means of being quieter. Well, as quiet as he can get. He’s such a sensitive topino after all. However, you absolutely can work those bigger moans and pleas out of him. Simply pin him down, praise him, ride him like he’s a sex toy that won’t break no matter how rough you ride him, and watch him unravel into a begging, crying mess beneath you that can barely string together a coherent sentence. All in all, though, for as fun as that can be, you still quite adore Copia’s usual little noises. Oh, your sweet little Satanic Church Mouse…

[bloodinmymilkshake]

Some Percildan headcanons

💫 Percy has constant nightmares, from which he is distracted by working at night on another crazy project, and only Vax notices his trembling hands and unfocused gaze and persuades him to sleep for at least three hours, promising to be there. Percy sleeps much longer and opens his eyes to find Vax sleeping next to him. Perhaps one of them hugged the other in their sleep, and this is very embarrassing (they are not together yet).

💫 Vax can be quite careless about his health when it comes to injuries (like “everything on me heals like on a dog”), but Percy notices blood on his clothes and treats his wounds, possibly with something like alcohol (they are in camp conditions). Perhaps one day Percy will have to stitch up Vax's wound alive, and Vax honestly tries to stoically withstand the pain, but tears appear in his eyes, and Percy gently begs him, like a child, to endure just a little.

💫 Vax tries to feed Percy whenever possible, as he notices that Percy eats infrequent snacks, especially while working. So Vax brings him a hot meal to the workroom.

💫 Percy is a non-tactile type of person and usually avoids being touched. But he never misses a chance to touch Vax, lays his head on his shoulder or plays with his hair, or warms himself against him, sitting close (Vax is very warm, and Percy is a man with eternally cold limbs). They always sleep in the same bed if there are no free beds in the place where they spend the night. Of course, Percy and Vax make excuses that friends sometimes do this, but the whole team notices that Percy allows Vax more than anyone else.

💫 Percy had never been in a relationship before. To be honest, he has no romantic or sexual experience whatsoever. During their first kiss, he doesn't know what to do with his hands and just brushes his lips against Vax's while his glasses slide askew. Vax just gently cups his face with both hands and kisses him very carefully.

💫 In the first months, Percy was afraid that their relationship was not as serious for Vax as it was for him. However, Vax himself offered to stop hiding and introduced Percy to everyone as his boyfriend.

💫 Vax is afraid to allow himself too much with Percy. Early in their relationship, Percy made it clear that he wasn't interested in sex (I'm headcanoning Percy as being on the asexual spectrum and Vax as bisexual, who has more experience with girls). Vax is not put off by this because he still loves Percy, however, very often their hugs and kisses are quite passionate and heated. One day they go a little further and Percy gets horny. Maybe he cums in his pants and just runs to the bathroom, leaving Vax to wonder what he did wrong.

💫 Sometimes Percy and Vax argue about who will be on top, not in a "I'm in charge" context, but in a "please relax, I want to please you, you deserve love and adoration" context.

💫 Percy can be very jealous, especially when it comes to Vax's exes. Sometimes Vax is really afraid that someone will get shot. Percy cools down quite easily when Vax kisses him in public or takes his hand to show that they belong together. But this doesn’t stop Percy from pressing Vax against the wall a little later, repeating “mine” many times in a hot whisper in his ear.

[ariiadnes]

╭ ⿻ ･ TENDING TO THEIR INJURIES ( part i. )

ଓ.° ・ thoma ･ itto ･ childe. genshin impact. repost.

❀ ﾟ. ༄ thoma

"i'm okay, i'm okay! i promise."

the way thoma winces when you dress his injuries betrays a forced smile. you study him, brows furrowed in both concern and distress-- concern at his condition, distress at his failed attempts to downplay it.

you want to say a thousand things-- ask him why he's trying to hide the pain, what happened-- but the lump in your throat renders you speechless and the tears that threaten to form shift focus elsewhere. you inhale, shaky-- exhale, and look away from him. he doesn't need another problem-- and it's stupid to cause him worry because you're on the verge of crying.

it's hard to steel yourself when thoma has always been quick to pick up on your emotions and take them to heart. he notices how you struggle to pick up the antiseptic, takes one glance at your face and the way the tears well up, and perhaps that is the most painful of all.

his hands cup your cheeks so gently that you are afraid the tears will spill. how wonderfully loved and safe you feel in his hold.

"please don't cry," thoma reassures you, and you almost think you hear his voice quiver, "please. i'm okay, i really am."

"i'm not." you tell him that, but you are, and now he is, too. you imagine you both look so silly right now, crying and fretting over each other like it's the end of the world. "my allergies are bad."

"oh." thoma laughs through his tears, pinches your cheeks playfully and in meaning of you're okay and so am i. i am grateful. "so are mine."

"we're really bad at lying." you mumble, and he hums in agreement as he kisses your forehead. you place your hands over his, find closure in the idea that he is still with you, here and now. safe.

"thank you for coming back to me." you whisper, and under the stars, thoma presses his lips against yours in need.

❀ ﾟ. ༄ itto

itto, you've come to notice, gets hurt more often than one would think. a daring warrior that throws himself entirely into battle, caution and safety disregarded in the midst of adrenaline rushes. he comes home to you with wounds littered across his body; the cheeky smile on his face that appears at the sight of you almost makes the ache in your heart abate. almost.

he tends to forget about the pain, he tells you, so it's okay. he notices the way your jaw clenches at the sentence, how your words of protest die instantly. something in your chest tightens as if someone wrapped their hand around your heart and squeezed and squeezed until the words of innocence fell on deaf ears. because there are only so many times you can see the love of your life injured, and you are losing count.

how many times have you replayed this act before? an unending cycle of hurt and healing over and over again, the scenes blurred and turned into one. you remember where each scar came from -- how you did everything to ensure his wellness, and how the injuries faded into scars to serve as a reminder.

your fingers brush over the gash on his temple. he winces, slightly, but maybe his pain is insignificant in comparison to what you're feeling.

"please be more careful." you say after a long silence. he nods solemnly, finds that his usual lighthearted words of comfort will not do in this situation.

itto leans forward.

"kiss it better?"

you laugh for the first time that night, indulge in his request. a gentle kiss pressed against his temple and the feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist. he holds you closely, apologetic in his touch.

❀ ﾟ. ༄ childe

"i almost think you do this on purpose."

childe grins. you aren't entirely wrong-- but it's not like he tries to get hurt. it's more so that he enjoys the thrill of lethal situations and will jump straight into one for the sake of amusement and the yearning for acknowledgement that he can handle it. that's a bit different, he supposes, but he won't argue.

"i like the attention from you."

"i know you do." comes your flat tone, and you gently tap his chin as if that'll make his grin go away ( surprise: it doesn't ). "have you considered that you could just ask for attention instead of doing...this?"

ah. well, that makes it go away, and now you're faced with a very convincing pout. you sigh; he smiles at your reaction.

he never has the intention of worrying you with small cuts and bruises, not at all. he's completely fine, save for some discomfort and aches here and there, and while he truly does enjoy the attention and care, he's not one to cause you distress on purpose. ( the teasing is fun, though. he can admit that much. )

his expression softens as you inspect the bandage on his arm, fingers sliding down the cloth as a means to make sure it hasn't loosened anywhere. slowly, your hand meets his and he squeezes it tightly in reassurance.

"i'm sorry." his apology is genuine; it always is when this happens. "i'm alright though-- see? nearly at a hundred percent again because of you. couldn't do it without my favorite nurse."

"childe." you poke his forehead with your free hand, but he responds by grabbing it. "if i was your nurse, i would personally fire you."

he's grinning again. how annoying-- is what you want to think, but when he presses kisses against your knuckles, the touch light as a feather but heavy in meaning, you can't help but smile.

--until he talks again.

"you couldn't get rid of me if you tried."

"i know. it's annoying."

his laughter rings in the air, and you admit your defeat when you kiss him.

[pumpkinpastiesandcoffee]

By Your Side Feet?

Nanami x GN! Reader

Summary: You're afraid of the dentist and your dutiful boyfriend finds a way to help

Words: 1387

Warnings: None! Just fluff, Nanami being the perfect sweetie he is

A/N: There's no specified gender, pronouns, race etc. The only thing specified is the fear of the dentist and how (I personally) feel about it, that's it! Just something super quick. I got inspired by @teddybeartoji (seriously go chek them out!! I love their fics) Toji dentist fic, made me think about how Nanami would look after you which I hope to remember next time I have to go to the dentist!

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

“It’s still bothering you, isn’t it” came Kento’s warm voice. Tinged with concern and almost perceptible disapproval. You, however, were nervously smiling up at him, acting as if you hadn’t just been caught massaging your jaw, “no, no it stopped, don’t worry.” Of course, you both new you were lying, something the two of you agreed to never do with one another and had stuck to over the course of your 2 year relationship. So it would be reasonable for Nanami to be annoyed, angry, betrayed feeling, anything like that. However, you’re seemingly infinitely patient boyfriend, held nothing but worry in his eyes as he peered down at you. Letting out a soft sigh, he sat down beside you on the couch of your shared home, hand coming up to cup your cheek, “You need to go to the dentist my love, before it gets any worse.” The deep frown that settled across your lips as you shrunk away from his kind but determined gaze had Kento feeling bad, he knew you disliked the dentist, even he wasn’t a fan, but he also knew you were in agony. It had been 2 weeks now, chewing food on the other side, making pained expressions and tentatively rubbing at your jaw when you thought he wasn’t looking and worst of all was the way you had teared up as you brushed your teeth.

The nervous shake of your head as you spoke only made him frown more, “It’s fine, Ken, it’ll sort itself out.” “Love, please, the pain isn’t worth it to avoid the dentist, I’ll come with you if that’d help at all?” He coaxed gently, the other hand reaching out and gently curling around your wrist to pull you into him. As his fingers settled against your pulse, he realised your heart was racing, and now he had a matching frown, “You’re that afraid?” Tears were quick to flood your lash line as you ducked your head, a feeling of shame swirling in your gut as you whispered, “Yeah.” Nanami wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he rested his chin atop your head with a soft sigh.

He held you for a little while, waiting until you relaxed completely into him before speaking again, “Can you tell me why? Perhaps I can find some solutions for you, to make it easier.” With a deep sigh of resignation you tugged his hand into your lap, playing with his fingers to as you began to explain, “I never really worry about the pain, it’s never that bad, but the sensation of everything and how loud it all is just makes me so sick and always gives me a headache. Plus you can’t really move or anything, everything happens so fast and I never have a chance to prepare myself and even if you try to get them to stop they don’t always, just saying to hold on a bit longer. Just all of that is so overwhelming and makes me panic. Feels like I’m being tortured and can’t even move to get away. I know it’s stupid, but the fear and panic once it starts is just so all-consuming.” As you spoke, Kento listened intently, free hand gently rubbing along your back.

“First of all, it’s not stupid. Secondly, I had no idea it felt that way for you, for me its just, uncomfortable, but for you it sounds awful love, I’m so sorry.” He pressed a sot kiss to your temple, hoping to bring a bit more comfort. “I can come with you and we can ask about booking a longer appointment that way they can take their time. I can make sure they stop if you need a break and we can ask them to talk you through things so it’s not so fast. How does that sound?” Chewing nervously on your lip as you contemplated if that would actually help or not, eyes flickering up to meet his and relaxing a little again, “That could help.”

You’d spent the next hour talking about ways to make the whole thing easier on you, with the goal to make it tolerable more so than to fix it all. After that, Nanami had made an appointment for the following day and taking the day off work so that he could be with you the whole time as well as look after you afterwards. Despite all the preparation and talking, you were now sat in the dentist office, leg bouncing as you picked at your nails, mind reeling as the panicky feeling slowly climbed. Kento had signed you in and had just sat down beside you, hand coming to pry yours apart and interlock your fingers. “Breathe for me dear, deep breath in and hold, then out slowly, ready?” and he did as he asked of you, encouraging you to copy which you did. Between his calm hazel eyes and large warm hand encompassing yours, you felt that panic begin to subside, easing into a more manageable bubble of anxiety instead. That was until your name was called and it all came rushing back in an instant.

Nanami held your hand as you walked into the room, only letting go once you’d settled into the waiting dentists chair. He checked with the dentist before moving a chair over to sit by your feet, hand coming to rest on your ankle as a physical reminder he was there. The appointment took a long time, however every time you started to get jittery, Kento’s hands were massaging along your ankles and calves, the occasional softly spoken “You’re doing so well love” a reminder you weren’t alone. A reminder you weren’t trapped, that you could make it through. When you motioned for breaks the dentist listened after the first time where he had hesitated and was met with the clearing of Nanami’s throat and cold, stern look. The image would stay with you forever of you’re doting boyfriend, staring down your dentist and you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips in response.

The second you were out of the chair, Nanami was pulling you in to his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “You did great, I’m so proud of you love, I love you.” And if the dentist and assistant were looking at you both funny, neither of you cared enough to notice, no, instead you were tucking yourself into him with a muffled “thankyou, I love you so much Kento, thankyou.” You walked back out, hand in hand, to pay for the appointment before leaving and climbing into the car. “Now, as promised, lets get that drink you love so much. We’ll order your favorite for dinner rather than lunch seeing as you’ll be numb for a little while” He mused, ruffling your hair as he pulled out of the clinic parking lot. “Hey, Ken, thankyou, really. You didn’t make me feel silly or childish, it sucked but it wasn’t as bad as it usually is so, thankyou.” He smiled, eyes flickering over to you before taking your hand in his, entwining your fingers as he brought them up to kiss the back of your hand. “Of course, I love you, I’ll never treat your fears as silly or childish. I’m just glad I helped even a little bit.”

The rest of the day was spent doing things you loved while Kento babied you. Curled up in Kento’s arms on the couch with a comfort movie playing was a great way to spend your afternoon, it certainly helped the memory of the dentist fade quickly. So, as you curled up together in bed for the night, face peppered in kisses from Kento that had you giggling, you couldn’t help but feel nothing but love. Love for Kento Nanami, a man who would drop everything to make you feel better, who never once would belittle your fears, who thought you were simply the most beautiful human being ever and truly felt happy just to be in your presence. The love held for one another truly shone in times like this, where he knew everything that made you happy and comfy and where you felt safe and stronger with him by your side, or in this case, your feet.

[kittenfangirl20]

Lute: Adam, you don’t fuck everything up, you are so strong and resilient most of the time that it still comes off as a shock when I see you being vulnerable. Even then you have been through shit that would break most people. I don’t like how the devil won’t do more to treat you the way that you deserve to be treated. Just know that even if things don’t work out with you and your Luci, you have people who will help you with your baby and you will be an amazing mom.

*Lute pulled out the brooch and placed it at his neck*

Adam: Thank you.

*they went back to the office seeing Emily in a cocoon of blankets watching a musical while Cain took over the paperwork*

Cain: Don’t ask.

Adam: I won’t ask if you don’t ask.

Cain: Deal.

*two months later Charlie watched sadly as her parents were arguing, tonight Azathoth’s Tears would be seen in the sky and it seemed Lucifer had forgotten about his promise to take her to see then when she was a little girl, well if he wasn’t going to take her, she was going to take herself, she snuck into her dad’s room and she saw the grimoire that Adam used to use to go to Earth, she picked it up and turned it to the page with the teleportation spell, she then chanted the spell*

Charlie: Take me to the stars.

*but the spell took her to LA instead*

Adam: Is that crazy cat girl still there?

*Cain looked out the window and saw Emberlynn who was a cat like Sinner frantically jumping up and down*

Emberlynn: Addie-kun I have come to be your bride.

*Cain chuckled, even with Adam’s pregnancy starting to show and him becoming chubby because of the pregnancy and not taking as many jobs as he used to, Adam was still very attractive and very desirable to others, in the main office both Emily and Lute were shocked when a portal opened and a very frantic Lucifer stepped out*

Lucifer: I need help, Charlie ran away and I don’t know where she went.

Lute: Couldn’t you have gone anywhere else, I don’t know if Adam is ready to see you.

Lucifer: I am desperate, Charlie is missing and there are few people I can trust with this.

Emily: I guess I can tell Adam since he would want to help find Charlie.

*Emily carefully walked into the room with Adam and Cain*

Emily: Ummmmm…. Lucifer is here and his daughter is missing, he really needs help.

*Adam looked worried, he was going to help Lucifer no matter what because he loved him, but he was afraid of how Lucifer would react to seeing him as he was now*

Adam: I need to get this over with.

*Adam went to talk to his ex that he was still very much in love with*

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Stoliz Au

Adam sipped on his coffee out of his "Hell's Greatest Boss" mug as he overlooked Pentagram City. His workers, Lute and Emily were at the conference table trying to figure out ways they could get to the human world.

Adams oldest son Cain sat there on his phone looking very interested in anything that had to do with work.

Here at Adams Angelic Assassination, they started out by protecting sinners. Either from other demons or from angels on extermination day.

Turns out people would pay a pretty penny to have someone on earth killed.

It has been a few years since Adam was cast out of heaven for questioning things. They took his halo and his powers before casting him down.

Lute and Emily didn't want him to be alone in Hell so they willingly fell. Adam reconnected with his son who was homeless at the time.

They all needed money so that's when Adam came up with the idea for his business.

Lute sighed: It's impossible! There is no way to the human releam without our angelic powers.

Emily: It's okay Lute, we'll figure something out.

Adam turned: She's right Lute! And I actually have a plan.

Lute: You do?

Adam: I do. I know of a book and where I can get it. It's our ticket up top.

Yes Adam knew where to get this book, but could he sneak in and out without being noticed.

Emily: How will you get it?

Adam smirked: Leave it to me and my stealth skills.

*Adam scouted out the royal palace, he knew the largest collection of demonic grimoires were housed in the Morningstar palace including one that could take him to Earth, thankfully Adam still had his angel wings so he fly over the gates surrounding the palace, there was a party going on, his eyes went to Lucifer who was off in a corner drinking while Lilith was talking with her friends, Adam’s heart filled with longing over seeing his first love, but Adam was here for a reason and it was to get a spell book, he hid his wings thankful for the all black outfit he took to wearing now that he could use to hide in the shadows, but before he could open the door to Lucifer’s room, he was tackled by a pair of hellhounds who dragged him to Lucifer*

Adam: Shit.

*Lucifer was chugging down a bottle of absinthe when he saw a pair of hellhound guards drag Adam in front of him, Adam had a sheepish smile on his face and he couldn’t help but realize how handsome Adam was, in fact he had a strong desire to pin Adam to the bed and have his way with him since he hadn’t shared a bed with Lilith since Charlie was born*

Hellhound 1: We saw this man trying to sneak into your room.

Hellhound 2: What should we do with him?

Lucifer: I will deal with him myself, don’t tell anyone what you saw.

*the hellhounds handed Adam over to Lucifer and the former angel reluctantly followed Lucifer up to his room, once they were alone Adam became nervous*

Adam: Look, I can explain-

*Adam’s words were cut off when Lucifer kissed him on the lips, Adam found himself returning the kiss enjoying the feeling*

Lucifer: I missed you so much Adam, in more ways than one.

*Adam felt himself getting wet with desire, one of the punishments was they took away Adam’s favorite thing, his dick, before throwing him out of Heaven and now he had a pussy instead much to his annoyance, but now he saw a way to use it to his advantage and it would give him something he had always wanted*

Adam: You realized what you missed out on and now you can have it.

Lucifer: Yes.

*they ended up on the bed, they kissed as they frantically pulled off their clothes down to their underwear, Lucifer rubbed the underwear covered erection against the wet area of Adam’s panties, they pulled off their underwear and Lucifer slid into Adam, Adam had to hold back a moan of pleasure by biting into Lucifer’s shoulder which made Lucifer even more turned on, Adam moved his hips along with Lucifer’s thrusts, after a long and passionate dance on the bed, Adam climaxed and Lucifer cum inside of Adam*

Lucifer: That was amazing, is there a way I could convince you to come around more often.

Adam: Maybe if you let me borrow a grimoire to help me with my new job.

Lucifer: Done, but you must come back to me at least once a month. How about full moon night?

*Lucifer had the grimoire appear in Adam’s hands*

Adam: Sounds perfect to me.

*they both fell asleep, Lucifer holding Adam and Adam holding the grimoire, in the morning Adam had to get dressed and sneak out, but before he could sprout his wings, he fell off the balcony and onto the table which had Lilith having breakfast with her friends.

Adam: Sorry, I fucked your husband….. actually I’m not sorry.

*Adam sprouted his wings and flew off*

@things-arent-what-they-seem66