#I usually joke this shit off but it's really getting to me in this SPECIFIC case

[mychemical-gremlin]

the proxy i'm using on my school computer refuses to load Instagram AT ALL

i'm about to cry guys. if my parents don't go to bed and I can't take the functional computer....

[reshinless]

Hear me out..Jealous!kinich x reader smut...also I love your writing style it makes me wanna explode🤭

──── bet you feel it now, baby

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. you didn't have to laugh that hard at his joke. it wasn't even that funny. he's better, it's fine, he'll just show you how much better he is.

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader, !!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. posting wip list in a bit plus brief overview of 800 special fic (it'll probably be genshin/hsr :3)

۪ ⠀✧ warnings. possessive behavior (kinich), jalosi /j, kinda ass/pussy eating (see to it however you like, i used no real specific term, reader is blindfolded for some parts, jealous behavior, rough sex, sex itself, y'all get walked in on (be ready for this to be implied into more of my kinich works LOL), establish relationship

"ahhn- kinich i said 'm sorry.. pleasef- slow down!" your face in the pillows, your words muffled and long gone into the night. the black-haired man's raspy voice spoke from behind— your boyfriend, kinich, of course. "he wasn't all that entertaining, why laugh like how you do with me?"

it was torture to him, seeing how it went from an awkward laugh, a polite smile, to a more genuine appearance to the stupid guy that just had to come up to you while he was busy getting a little snack for ajaw— even ajaw wouldn't comment on how his face looked this time, keeping his own silence as he ate the delicious candy.

"fffuck- he was an old classmate i had at the akademiya- 'm sorry, i-i really am kin-!" he almost laughed at your words. classmate? doesn't mean you should be playfully hitting shoulder like that. or teasing him like that. it's all his, no one else should be able to have it.

you shuddered, what felt like cumming again for the umpteenth time in a row, he hadn't stopped pinning you against the wall, and making you see stars over and over again ever since you saw your "classmate".

"doesn't matter." he groans, finishing inside you once more, your eyes were blindfolded by his headwear, previously on his forehead. he carries you onto the mattress, laying you down a little roughly. "w- what are you doing?"

you shivered once more, feeling warm exhales near your entrance, his cheek resting suddenly on one of your thighs. "all mine, right?" the blunt tone present in his tone definitely made it out as if you couldn't tell him anything other than yes (because it was true). his lips start to scatter a plethora of glossy little kisses all over your thighs, the sensation of getting him to cover every inch of your legs felt like a fever dream.. was this really a punishment?

you could feel his other hand snake to one of yours, which was somewhere on the bed. holding it tight as he started to place wet pecks over your hole. "hhnnn.. kin stop- ... stop teasing me.." you felt yourself moan into his touch, your other hand reaching out for wherever his head was. your fist grabbing at his hair, almost trying to push him into you further.

you felt him groan into you, you could sense he was whipped for your taste. the way you moaned his name. his.. name. "ahh- ahhh fffuck!— kin it's all yours, i promise!" his hand left yours, and stopped lapping at your hole for a moment- you heard a small grunt, and two things landing on the floor.. was he taking his gloves off?!

you could feel him sitting you up with one of his other hands, arms setting you down onto his face, arms locking around your thighs. straddling you over his mouth, as he started to devour what was his. no other guy could do this to you, not without making you feel as good as he did.

shit and he definitely did, the way he made you feel wasn't like the stupid losers who'd try to hook up with you back in the akademiya. or tried to pick you up in the streets. they can't make you feel turned on as much as you did when kinich blindfolded your eyes with something he doesn't usually take off and hear his belt buckle start to come off- ahhh nothing was better!

oh you felt yourself almost creaming on his face just thinking about it. not to mention how good he worked his tongue into you, definitely tasting every little bit, every little nook & cranny his tongue could reach.

he made a small sound, looking up to see you slowly riding his face as is, trying to rub yourself near against his nose. his authorative hold was more than enough to stop you from moving again, one of his palms moving over your stomach to feel the way his tongue moved inside you.

his head busily buried itself more into your scent, glossing his tongue so carefully, making sure you feel it. you started to feel something pool in your stomach- ssshit you were gonna cum again! your hands trail back down to his hair, gripping it harshly again, him seeing signs that you're close, he fastens his pace, licking as much as he could, no longer concentrating on the taste, more on your facial expression.

"ahhn- kin i'm g'na-!" "mmm there it is, such a good kitty." were the words he moaned into your hole, as he gladly lapped up every inch of your delicious juice/cum.

as he placed a kiss onto your entrance once more, he places more than just one kiss onto your lips, making out with you for a bit. letting him taste what he's been tasting for the past hour, the shared, mix of both of your cum.

your lips finally parting from his, your eyes still shut close 'till you feel a fist of your hair being gripped, "not done yet." is all kinich whispers, his voice a little coarse as he continues to kiss you. "all.. yours," you feel him take your hand, putting it over his heart while you both pull away from the kiss, a string of saliva being created. "and all mine, please?" he points to where your heart is in your chest.

his blunt attitude could only make you laugh, planting a kiss onto his head, and nodding to an agreement. "mmm- yeah. all yours."

"you guys are reaaaaaaalll corny! you're lucky i like your partner this time!" ajaw butts in as you laugh, while kinich simply scoffs- looking the other way and burying his face into your chest.

not as cool as my other works, and it's more cringe if i keep looking back on it, cute request tho !!!!<3333

[rogueddie]

It takes Steve an embarassingly long moment to realise that the spray isn't doing anything. He tries shaking it… nothing. He even checks by spraying it on his hand, shaking it again. Nothing.

He tries listening as he shakes it again and, though he's sure there's some product still left inside, nothing will come out.

He reluctantly throws it in the little trash can, just next to the toilet door. He doesn't bother rooting through the draws or cabinets either; he'd used the last of his emergency powder kit yesterday. There's nothing left.

He huffs, folding his arms, glaring at his reflection. Specifically at the very overgrown, bright blond roots of his hair.

It brings up the same anxiety he's been having for the past month. It's taken him a long time to save up for his usual hairdressers. He hadn't thought it would take so long but, with the kids and now Robin and Eddie, it shouldn't be that surprising.

Robin often pays a good chunk for things too, often paying him gas money, but it's usually him paying for everything. And now that he's paying rent in his own little appartment? He's not often left with that much at the end of the month.

He's starting to think it's not worth the trip. But he isn't going to start using box dye or anything cheap. He's spent a long time taking care of his hair, spent just as long struggling to find the right products too.

He doesn't even care that the kids and Robin mock him for it, he has great hair and, screw it, he's proud. He's not going to damage it by getting bad hair dye.

He's already booked his next hairdresser appointment for the next day, already saved up gas money too. He might as well ask for bleach instead, go back to his natural color and save himself from anymore days with overgrown roots.

He almost regrets the idea when he gets to work.

"Holy shit, you're a natural blond?" Robins grin looks almost painful with how wide it is. She's a little too excited for his comfort. "I don't know how I didn't guess before. This explains so much. How have you kept this hidden for so long? It's so light!"

"Don't you have work to do?" He bats her hand away when she, again, reaches for his hair.

"Not anymore. Why do you dye it? How did it grow out so much? When did you start hiding it? Did someone pressure you into it? They didn't make fun of you, did they? Because I will hunt them down and-"

"No one made me dye it or bullied me into it," he huffs. He can feel his attempt at a cool demeaner soften with how quickly she jumps to his defense. "I just... I never liked it. I don't think it suits me. Brunettes are cute."

"Are you dyeing it again?"

"Probably not. The hairdresser I go to isn't exactly cheap."

"You can get box dye at-"

"I'm not using box dye."

"It's not that bad, and if you really hate the blond-"

Steve swats at her when she reaches for his hair again. With a heavy sigh, he braces himself for the shift full of questions and jokes of 'betrayal'.

Like he suspected, they don't get much work done.

When Eddie comes in, towards the end of their shift, Steve is almost relieved.

"Stop bullying him without me," Eddie complains.

"Thank you," Steve says, whilst Robin boos. "What is it tonight? Movie night with Wayne or some of the kids?"

But Eddie is frozen, staring at his hair.

"I think he's broken," Robin says after a pause.

"You're blond?" Eddie blinks. "When did you go blond?"

"Always have been," Steve shrugs. "Just... not dyeing it anymore."

"Oh."

Steve and Robin stare at him. They share a glance after a moment.

"You here for a movie?" Steve asks.

"What? Me? No, I- just stopping by. And you're... yeah. I'm gonna- I've got to go. Wayne is waiting and... you know. Bye."

He turns around and practically runs out the store. His wheels squeal a little as he drives out, most likely breaking the speed limit.

"Did he just..." Robin starts, trailing off with a frown.

"Unbelievable," Steve shakes his head. "Just when I give up, he realizes that he likes me too! What the hell, Bob. Is he only into blonds or something?"

[coastershells]

S T C H R I S T O P H E R

IN WHICH — dallas stumbles through your window , searching for some help desperately.

⚠️ : sexual talk , dallas tries , but fails.

not proofread as usual! / requested? yes : no

꩜ ◞ — wc : 1.5k div creds : enchanthings-a

when dallas came stumbling through your window , you expected many things. maybe an apology , a smirk , a dirty joke , a pickup line , the casual dallas , the silly yet stupid boyfriend you know.

instead , you were met with a dallas that was on the floor , shivering covered in snow , and he looked pretty much beat up.

you didn’t know what to say for a few seconds ; you were fidgeting with your bracelet a second ago , wondering when the snow would stop so you could go outside and play with it , or just touch it. snow is random around your area , so whenever it falls people are either playing or fighting in it. you just hope that the gang is responsible enough to be the ones playing in it.

it makes you worry about johnny.

“ dal? “ you question with a shaky voice , and he lets out a painful grunt. your stomach does a swirl and you hop off your bed , your bracelet going to the way back of your mind. “ dallas! “

“ hey sweetheart. “ he hisses out. and you quickly run to shush him , the window being half open let’s some snow fall in , and he scrunches his nose. “ fuckin’ hurts. “ he exhales , and you panic , hands hovering over his body.

“ dal — what happened?! shit , where’s the first aid?! “ you dash off and leave dallas , which probably wasn’t nice , but you can tell without even taking off that leather jacket he’s injured somewhere. bad.

you scramble to your bathroom and quickly check under the sink , to which you find your old trusty first aid. when you return to your room , dallas has put himself up against the wall by the window , and he seems to be shivering even more.

you rush to the window and close it , feeling the cold air yourself. you have so many questions to ask him but you have a gut feeling you’ll only get snarky replies or silence. dallas hasn’t ever came to you this beaten up , not ever. you see cuts on his face , but what really scares you is his hand gripping his side.

“ fuck. dallas — what did you do? “

“ you callin’ me that , it ain’t helping. you make me feel like i’m in trouble. “ he says through pained gasps.

“ you are in trouble. what were you doing in the snow in just a leather jacket? move your hand. “ you nudged it out of the way and he looked to the side , preparing for the worst. you moved his jacket then his messed up shirt , and he lets out a dry laugh while you are looking wide eyed at all the cuts in one spot specifically. “ what happened? what did you do? “ you ask , and you aren’t sure if you’re mad at him or genuinely trying to figure him out.

“ got roughed up real bad. “ he jolts when you place your hand below all the cuts. he looks down at you. “ s’pretty , doll. lemme just.. “ his arm lazily finds its way to your collarbone and trails down , and it’s a little too close for comfort.

“ hands off. you’re hurt. we can do that tomorrow. “ you sniff , and he shifts uncomfortably. you expected him to push more , but the shaking shows he probably doesn’t have the energy.

“ you’re an idiot , dal. it’s snowing and you go out to fight? do you know it’s fucking freezing? “ you pull his necklace , and you groans. he looks irritated.

“ never said i fought. “

“ so what , who did this to you then? “

he went silent yet again.

you don’t know why you tried.

“ socs. heard em talkin’ about you. “ he says , giving in. he still has that irritated look on his face , though.

you sighed , out of frustration and you still try to reason with him. “ dal , they will always talk about me. it’s fine. “

“ it ain’t if you’re my girl. ran em all off. straight out of our territory. “ he says as you open the first aid.

“ after i patch you up , you’re showering and we are going straight to sleep. “ you state and he looks your way.

“ you gonna shower with me? “

“ nope. already showered bud. i’ll wash your hair. you’re scrubbing yourself though. “

“ aren’t you just so kind. “ he mumbles and you press onto one of his cuts.

“ ow — fuck. i’m sorry , alright? jeez. “

dallas puts up a small fight when you bandage up his wounds , and a larger fight when he has to get undressed but you don’t. he asks why you can’t just shower with him , but you barley want him in your bed. not because he’s nasty or anything , but you’re afraid the blood will bleed through onto your sheets like last time he got roughed up.

“ how many? “ you ask.

“ what? “

“ how many guys were there? did you win? “

“ ‘course i won. you think these cuts for show? “ he points to his side , and you grumble. “ about four or five. snow made it hard to stand. “ he says as he relaxes into you scrubbing his head. “ that’s the spot. “

he jokes and you tap the side of his head.

“ i’ll knock your skull right out. why were you out there in the first place? “

“ was heading here. had a feeling you wouldn’t be sleep. you can never sleep without me. “

you give up on questions , because he’s right. and it’s a first. so instead of responding to that , you tell him to close his eyes tight and you put the showerhead right over him. he shivers , but relaxes right back in.

“ jokes on you , that’s helping with the cold. “ he laughs and you curse under your breath. “ asshole. “ you say louder than the rest.

“ baby , not to be rude , but can we speed this up? i’m already fighting urges to not pull you in here with me. “ he turns to you , and you look down. fuck. you look back up , and he’s smiling at you now. “ come on , just come in , sweetheart. i promise i won’t bite you. “

“ dal , it’s a no. don’t make me change my mind about this in the morning. “

he groans. “ i protect you from some socs and i can’t even get a kiss? “

“ you aren’t asking for just a kiss. “

“ it’s the same thing , just some.. extra steps. “

you turn off the shower and throw a towel at him , to which he takes and wraps around him and your grateful. something for him to keep his dick in thats not you.

“ fortunately for you , i don’t have any shirts that’ll fit you well , so you’re gonna have to go shirtless. “

dallas smiles as he follows you into your room and goes to your closet in search of any pants that might fit him. “ you say that like it’s a problem for me. “

you roll your eyes and look at the area he was sitting in. luckily , there’s no blood on your carpet. so you don’t have to be on your knees tomorrow. you pick up the first aid and place it on your dresser , you don’t care enough to go back to the bathroom.

you sigh as you hear his footsteps , yet you don’t try to turn around. you know what he’s going to do , and you think it out as he does it. he presses against you , and puts his now warm hands under your stomach , yet it still gives you goosebumps. “ done , baby. we sleeping now? “ you can hear a low hiss , and it makes you realize that his side still hurts.

“ sleep on that side instead. i don’t want you sleeping on your bad side. “ he puts his hands up jokingly and walks around your bed , you take that opportunity to quickly turn off the light before he gets onto the bed and pulls you in. you giggle , but let it happen.

“ love you s’much.. would’ve been better if.. “

you look at him. “ dallas winston. “

“ alright , fine. i give up. i won’t ask anymore until tomorrow. damn , woman. “

you laugh , a little louder than you should. and he playfully pinches your shoulder.

he wraps his arms around you tight , and finally gives you a kiss.

“ see? that’s what just a kiss is. you’re finally learnin’ dal! “

“ shut up , now. i need tomorrow to come quicker. “

“ you’re way too excited. “ you whisper as you blink lazily , and look outside to the yellow streetlight spilling into your room , it highlights the snow falling , and you wonder how much of the ground it’ll cover.

you swear you see a blood trail , but you might be imagining it.

uuuugh i have to go back to school this sucks now i can’t think about matt dillon all day!!! fudge!! (teehee if u wanna be added to the list below lmk)

taglist : @every1hatesmayaa , @mrsdillonx , @r0seb100d !!

[queenie-the-court-jester]

HII, saw your post on wanting asks, well here 🫶 I love talking so, and specifically on playboy yandere!! I'm a sucker for angst and yanderes falling into insanity honestly, so let me ramble a bit

- imagine if reader graduates highschool and gets an overseas scholarships!! They also convince their family to move together with them so Kameron can't hurt or use them to blackmail reader. So with only a break up text saying like "bye manwhore 😍😍", blocking and deleting all their social media, I wonder how long and how far would he take to get reader back again? Would he inherit his parent's riches, hire some private investigatiors to find reader and find the country they're living in, expand his business over to their country in order to gain power to trap his darling. And I wonder how deranged his reaction would be to reader's text and be like no way, they're joking right, and runs to their house and whatever usual spots they're at normally, and just break down into insanity. would he try to use substitutes for reader to maintain his sanity or go fully devoid of emotions and start working hard to gain power and influence to find reader again!! I'm also curious how he would process his darling leaving him, would he become delusional first, saying they got kidnapped or something, or some ex or fling of his hurt reader, and then proceed to anger, depression, grief and then finally accept the reality!!

Ok that's a lot of rambling 😭😭 hope it's okay. I rlly enjoyed that fic, was rent FREE in my mind for a whole day

you know luci, you just gave me an idea. So have a part TWO of THIS DUMBASS HOE 🤝

Yandere playboy x reader

Tw: mentions of murder, kameron being delulu, yandere and obsessive behavior

💋kameron was having another breakdown. Sobbing pathetically on the floor of your old bedroom. Just how did you run away? And on such short notice too!? Didn't his love mean anything to you!? WHY DID YOU ABANDON HIM?

💋a million thoughts swirled through his head, until he finally got one that just... stuck. He had to get you back. No matter how long it takes. Getting up and dusting himself off, he kicked the front door open and quickly left the empty house

💋it was a shame really. The once sane and popular boy was struggling to keep his image. So he got help. Not professional as in therapists and medication. Just hiring other students to cover for him Incase he slipped up. all while snooping through the head teachers computer to see if they had any notes on where you might have gone. He almost got caught a few times

"shit that was close.. i can't believe these idiots leave their passwords just anywhere"

💋he knew he shouldn't be back at the school, especially since he graduated but he needs all the information he can get. Eventually moving onto private investigators and online stalking through multiple other accounts. He'd try anything just to see what his darling was doing without him. Were you enjoying making him suffer? You're so cruel..

💋hiring other people to befriend you and lower your guard, gathering any Information they can

💋 kameron who spent a while convincing his parents to let him take hold of the company. He had a degree, a bright mind, responsibility. He's perfect for the job! Oh if only they knew where his 60% was going.. funding multiple businesses across the world in exchange for keeping a careful eye. Making him quite the celebrity

💋look darling! He's on the news-! ...oh right you're not here.. one evening, while working in his office, a new secretary comes in to introduce themselves. They look just like you! He could only stare in shock.

"my love..? Is that you!?"

"..who?"

💋turns out it was just a doppelganger. But with enough time he'd delude himself into thinking it was you. Courting them with the same flowers, chocolates and jewelry he'd given you. It worked like a charm! Now you were back In their arms again. They felt whole..

💋he married your lookalike a year later, the poor fool being too naive and oblivious to think. He was happy for awhile.. or until one of his P.I's came in to show him they found you. His reality started to break.

💋no.. how could he do this to you. Replacing you with some cheap street whore. That night, when they went to bed, he gave them a cup of water and smiled sweetly. Watching as their face went red and they started to cough for air after gulping it down. Clawing at the sheets and staring at him with wide fearful eyes. Begging him to help them

"...slut."

💋 burrying the body in his backyard, he paid people with underground connections to cover for him while he was away. Claiming they suddenly vanished, having run away with a small fortune. How idiotic are people, to actually believe him..

💋kameron disguised himself and went straight for the country you decided to flee too. 5 years apart from you.. he had no idea how he managed to live so long without his beloved, but it was all worth it. Because now you'll be back where you belong. In his arms.

💋you were busy working at your job, running a small business was no joke but atleast the people in the area were friendly. So you didn't notice the suited figure Infront of your cash register

"thank you, please come again-"

💋you froze, looking up at the terrifyingly familiar face. He stared back at you with only glee and love

"hello my darling~ you've been on a naughty streak for a while Haven't you? That's okay, I'll just set you straight when we go back home."

💋big burly men all blocked you from escaping by guarding the doors. Dragging all the other customers out so you both could have your moment. Now you could never leaver leave him. Ever.

[weebsinstash]

you know what I wanna see. A yandere finding out they're getting platonicly cucked and getting like really offended because they find out you basically pretend to be a different person around them?

Like I can't decide which Hazbin man I'd like the idea for more but I keep veering back towards Alastor/Vox/poly radiostatic where they find out that you've just been keeping up an act with them and that you show the true you to other people, which hurts especially bad if he/they is a soulmate to you

For example, both men know you as this, shy reserved young lady who mostly keeps to herself and you do things like read books and do puzzles and you're overall pretty softspoken and kind of awkward. Then they catch you hanging out in public with a group of friends and you're standing there in a totally different outfit than they usually see you in, getting, basically just loud and happy as you interact with your friends? Just hollering out on the side walk or something, "no, no, you don't understand, when rock lee dropped the weights that was THE best anime moment of my entire childhood, it was iconic, rock lee was HIM, he was THAT GUY--" and you're laughing and snorting and all shoving each other around as you talk and goof off and you happen to look over and see Vox/Alastor there and just, deflate. You very obviously don't want them to see you like that. You have a very "oh shit I've been caught doing something I'm not supposed to and I'm going to get in trouble and I'm really worried and sad" visible reaction that they both clock immediately

Because imagine like... you were just doing this because you thought they would judge you and they never actually gave you a reason to hide things from them, you were just insanely anxious and feeling under pressure from the relationship that you hid everything you assumed they wouldn't like, which was... almost everything about you, so your new demonic hubby finds out you've been, in a way, essentially scared of him this whole time? Thinking he's a judgmental piece of shit which maybe he is but thinking he would do that to YOU though?

The two wanting to like actually I mean it genuinely HURT your friends because, what the fuck do you mean all of them have been getting to see this adorable true unique side of you and meanwhile the people you're actually 'supposed to be with' scare you and you lie to them and think they'll be cruel to you, kinda justifiably because they're notorious Overlords but also kinda unwarranted since they've been really nice to you specifically?

"what if Alastor didn't like if his darling was a gamer or heavy tech user" well what if Alastor wasn't a fan but he ultimately respected your autonomy enough to let you do it anyways because you're a working bill-paying adult and he's actually significantly more upset about the fact you think he would treat you poorly and would go to significant lengths to hide such huge parts of yourself from him?

"what if Mr Professional CEO Vox thinks his darling is a huge dork and cringe and wants to make you more traditionally feminine" yeah and what if Vox would LOVE a darling that can smoke weed and binge on pizza and anime with him and he's mad that you two could've been hanging out sharing genuinely mutual hobbies this whole time? (And also Vox is... a huge dork already ok the way he talks to the tvs and stuff is such dorky white guy shit fr if you told me he was in a frat with guys named Tanner and Hunter and Skyler and they chugged beer and watched family guy I would believe it immediately)

I'm even over here like, "what if Valentino started trying to force his employee crush to start looking and dressing a certain way and he's like 'hmm you know what? I hate it actually. Go back to doing your own thing, boo'" because he's actually like So Down that when you stop cracking jokes and being as cute he immediately hits the reverse

Lucifer finding out you've been trying to like, pretend to be this calm collected woman because you're trying to be formal and fancy with him as the king of hell and a creature that has existed since your entire family line existed and you're EXTREMELY intimidated, and then HE'S ALSO trying to be all macho and tough because, pwease dont hate him for being a lil small, he promises he can be a good husband for you 🥺👉👈 he's just a silly lil guy who loves his daughter and is a little goofy about ducks and then he finds out you're like, one of those "weird girls" who spent recess catching bugs and you can start rambling off about things like, "you know there's this misconception that mantis shrimp can see colors in a larger spectrum than humans can but some of the colors we can see that they cant involve certain 'transition' colors that are helpful for actually fully perceiving objects and seeing fuller shade ranges and things like shadows and--" and now you guys can watch nature documentaries together

But it's just like. You get the two sides of the same coin because, you can think of cute bonding moments when they find out who you really are and their opinions on your interests, AND you can think about them being INCREDIBLY jealous and possessive that you were trusting other people in a way you didn't trust them, and sometimes even people you know much less than them as well. Just because they're willing to share you by letting you have your own autonomy doesn't mean they're not going to get their feathers ruffled that you've been having what they perceive as actually quite intimate moments with, you know, people that aren't them :) it's the kind of thing that might make certain types awfully CLINGY, you know... some may even get a little POSSESSIVE over a discovery like this. good thing you've been practicing your charisma on all your little friends, because something is telling me your social circle just got a whooooole lot smaller.....

[luciopioid]

No Looking Back

minnie x f!reader . 2,572K words

tags: older minnie/age gap. alcohol. use of “girl” and other feminine terms. vaginal fingering.

synopsis: minnie is a regular at your cafe job. after one particularly hard day, she runs into you and helps you out in more ways than one.

Minnie hands you a glass of wine before she sits down beside you on her couch– albeit probably too close, but the smell of her perfume and her radiating body heat next to you makes any doubt disappear immediately.

“So how long have you been there?” She asks, ruffling a hand through her hair. You shoot her a look. “The cafe, I mean.” She chuckles.

“Oh! About a year now. My last job wasn’t getting me by, but the pay here is a little better and the tips are good. I’m thinking about quitting though because last we–” You catch yourself.

“Sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous. But a year. I’ve been there a year.” You chuckle awkwardly, catching minnie’s gaze as she looks at you with a warm smile.

“Why are you nervous, baby?”

You feel your face go hot and it takes every fiber within you not to start giggling like an idiot.

You don’t really remember how you got here exactly, but you do remember crying profusely and running into one of your regulars at your job.

_

It was raining and you had just worked a shift from hell. Customers yelling in your face, whipped cream and green tea spilled over your pants and shoes– the whole nine yards. You practically run out of the cafe on your way to your car. You huddle to yourself, as if it will make the rain avoid you specifically given you forgot your umbrella. You sit down in your passenger seat momentarily, and for the first time in six hours, you breathe. Ready to go home and shower and probably cry, you start your car. Or try to at least. You turn the key again. And again. And again, but to no avail it doesn’t start. At all.

You feel tears stinging at your eyes, but you blink them away and decide to get out and pop the hood. You don’t know what you’re looking at. You just want to go home. Your hair is wet and your clothes are cold and damp.

At some point in between clocking out and having a breakdown in the rain, you ran into Minnie, a regular customer at your job that comes in every other day.

Shit.

You didn’t know what bothered you more: being in this vulnerable position for anyone to walk by and wonder if you were crazy or really down on your luck or having the woman you’ve had a crush on for literal months walking by and wonder if you were crazy or just really down on your luck. You prayed it was the ladder.

“Are you okay?” She asks after she gets out of her car, jogging towards you. “Do you need a jump?”

She’s in high waisted jeans and a blouse. Unlike yours, her hair and clothes dry. “Here,” Minnie says, passing you her umbrella as she goes to open your hood. It’s useless now, but a kind gesture nonetheless.

“I don’t know if it’ll work,” You whisper, “With the rain and all.”

“Are you locked out your car?” She asks, concerningly.

“No.” You say calmly.

“So why didn’t yo–” She pauses and laughs softly, understanding you’re in a particularly vulnerable state.

“Look,” Minnie pauses. “I live right there. Why don’t I take you to my place really quick so you can dry off and when the rain stops, I’ll come give you a jump, hmm?” She says with that same familiar smile that made you weak in the knees when you see it.

As charming as she is, you didn’t want to be pitied, even if you were quite literally having a breakdown outside of your job.

“I don’t know, It’s–”

“Come on!” She says pulling you to her car by your arm. Not letting you finish your potential objection.

-

“Thinking about what’s gonna happen to my car if it’s broken. Thinking about how I’m in a stranger’s huge fucking apartment as I wear her clothes. You know… the usual.” You joke and Minnie gives you that same warm smile as she chuckles. You finish the rest of your wine in one sip. Minnie gives you a concerning look before doing the same just for the hell of it.

“I feel like I only had a shitty shift because I didn’t see you today.” You say, entirely too late to take back.

Before you can try to awkwardly change the subject, “I can’t tell if you’re blaming me for your shitty day or if you missed me.” She says jokingly and you immediately feel a relief fall over you.

“What? Of course not!”

“Of course you didn’t miss me? Wow… Here I thought I was a favorite of yours.” Minnie says fake dramatically and for the first time all day, you feel a real genuine smile creep on your face.

“I’ve always wanted to ask, is Minnie short for something?” You inquire, your nerves slowly zipping away from the glass of wine.

Her eyes light, “No, actually.” She says matter of fact-ly. “It’s just a nickname. My real names Nicha.”

“Nicha,” you repeat to yourself, “That’s pretty. It’s fitting.”

You regret meeting her eyes because the look she’s giving you makes you want to dart your eyes in the opposite direction, but in fear of looking like a pussy in front of the most attractive woman you’ve ever seen, you hold it.

Minnie is looking at you, eyes low and smiling. “You’re so pretty, you know that? Not used to seeing you outside of your work.”

You feel your stomach tingle and your face heat up again. “Yeah?” You say, deciding to play this little game with her back.

“Yeah. You look even better in my clothes too.” She adds.

In the back of your mind, you knew this was crazy. Going to the home of a woman you barely know, letting her wash your clothes and putting you in her’s. Letting her offer you alchohol—at worse— drinking it.

“Was this your plan?” You ask, voice low and sultry. “Get some drinks in me. Try to jump my bones?”

Minnie scoots closer to you, “What? Of course not!” She says, mocking you from a few moments ago. “And don’t say it like that. Making me sound like a creep.” She jokes and shows you that smile you can’t seem to get enough of right now.

Minnie gently takes your hand and opens it. “D’you want me to stop, baby?”

Fuck.

“No.”

“Good.” She brings your hand to her mouth and presses a light kiss to your palm. You look at her with desperate eyes.

“You’ve had such a hard day,” Minnie coos, face inching towards you. “Can I make you feel better?” She whispers into your ear, as if there was anyone else around. You nod, saying yes to whatever that entails.

She kisses the sensitive skin where your ear meets your neck and you let out a soft gasp. You couldn’t believe this. You gently move her face in front of yours, holding her by her chin with your fingers. She bites her bottom lip mindlessly as she looks at yours. Minnie’s eyes flicker up to yours. “Can I kiss you?” She whispers, and you waste no time closing the gap between the two of you. Her lips press against yours firmly before she opens her mouth to take in your lower lip. She sucks at your lips slowly as you moan in between kisses. She tastes sweet like expensive wine and her lips are just as soft as you imagined.

Minnie’s hands find your hips and she grips them, tugging you closer. She pops her mouth off of yours and latches onto your neck. She gathers a part of skin between her teeth before biting down, you gasp unexpectedly before she soothes it with her velvet wet tongue and plump lips.

You’re dizzy. This is all too much. It’s too much, but you can’t help but want more.

She nips and sucks at various spots of your neck, ones that you are sure will leave marks, but you can’t find it in you to care. She comes off of your neck to meet your eyes, her nose touching yours. Minnie tugs at the bottom of the shirt of hers that you had on. She looks at you for permission and as soon as you give her a nod, she begins to bunch up the shirt at your collarbone, leaving your chest bare and exposed. Minnie places her hand on the small of your back before laying you down on her couch as she settles between your legs.

Mindlessly, your hands go to cover your breasts. That is until Minnie goes to lean down towards your ear. “Don’t hide from me. You’re so beautiful.” She says kissing at your neck again. “Wanna see you,” Her hands gently cover yours and move them away, “All of you.” Still holding your hands at your sides, she wraps her mouth around your nipple and you involuntarily whimper at the warm, slick contact. She twirls her tongue around it repeatedly, each time trying to earn another one of the beautiful sounds you make. She lets go of one of your hands, but you keep it there. In obedience. She uses her now free hand to pinch at your unoccupied bud, making you yelp and clench your fist. She switches to the newly pinched nipple and sucks as she kneads your opposite boob with her other hand, now leaving you with two free hands.

You use this as an opportunity to cup the back of her head with your hands as she sucks on your breasts repeatedly. Your hips buck into her involuntarily, wanting more of whatever was going on. You moan out into the open space again before asking, “More.”

It was all you could manage to say right now. Minnie pops off of your nipple and looks up from you at this position, “More what, pretty girl?” You groan at her and move your hips against her body, desperate for any sort of friction.

“I want you.” You say, low, for her ears only.

“Yeah?” She teases you as she creeps one hand up from your chest to your lips. She cups your face, her thumb grazing over your bottom lip. Without her even asking, you open your mouth, allowing her to slip her thumb in with ease. You wrapped your tongue around the lone digit, watching her eye your mouth in adoration.

She slips her thumb from your lips and slowly replaces them with her middle fingers and like before, you obey and suck. You allow her to push them back into your mouth, you coat her long digits in your saliva as you moan around them. “Look at you. Such a good girl.” Minnie muttered. “A good girl just for me.” She grins. Her praise was making your head spin.

Minnie pulls her fingers out of your mouth and lays against you,holding herself up on the forearm surrounding your head. She slips a hand into the front of the shorts she gave you. Your underwear was in the wash along with the rest of your clothes, you’ve never been more grateful, for the sole fact that her slick wet fingers immediately met your clit, making you gasp softly.

“Please.” You beg. Now feeling extremely desperate to feel her inside of you. She kisses your cheek and shushes you. “Shhh. Patience, love.” She whispers. Her fingers circle your clit once more before teasing at your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” She teases.

Her mouth finds yours as she kisses you, slow and languid. It’s at this point too that she decides to push her fingers into you, making you groan into her mouth at the feeling. Minnie starts off slow, her fingers pumping in and out of you at an excruciating pace for you. You whined at the sensation. “Please— Go faster.” You whimpered against her mouth.

“I’ve always wanted to have you like this. Always wanted to fuck you.” She says, almost as a confession. If you weren’t physically at a loss for words, you’d tell her the same. You’d tell her about how you always eyed her long fingers and strong hands as you took her order. About how good you thought her plump lips and nose would look under you as you rode her face. If only she knew.

She fucks her fingers into you more firmly now, at a new pace that makes you moan with every pump. A pace that makes you grip at her arm, your nails digging into her flesh. “F-fuck Minnie. Please.” She bites at your neck once more. The multiple stimulations making you mewl like a fucking kitten.

She comes up from the crook of your neck to admire your face. Your face flushed with a glowy sheen— she’d swear she’s never seen a more beautiful sight. You continue to babble nonsense and whine as she fucks into you, you feel a knot forming in your stomach as you’re being inched closer to release.

“Say my name.” She says softly, almost sounding desperate, but still demanding.

You moan and attempt to do as she says, “Mi—.”

“Nu uh,” She interrupts you, grinning, “My real name.”

As soon as she said that, she began to speed up, her fingers hitting a spot that you felt were sure to make you cum around them soon. Barely able to speak, “N-Nicha…” You whimpered. You feel her smile against your bare skin. Your hips begin to buck against her hand. She sucks on your neck, her face finding that same spot that earns the familiar noises from you. “Close, Nicha…close.” You mutter out between moans. You knew you weren’t going to be able to last long.

The movements of Minnie’s fingers in your pussy we’re becoming sloppier as you clenched around her. “There you go,” she coos, “Come for me, pretty girl.” And with one last praise, your walls tighten around her fingers and your hips grind against her, hard and desperate. You let out a string of curses and whimpers followed by her name as she kissed you all over. “Want you to cum all over my fingers.” She says, sending you over the edge with one last whine before entirely riding out your climax.

Your heavy pants fill the entire room. Minnie’s forehead touches yours while she hovers over you. You decide to break the gap again and meet her in a long, slick fluid kiss. You could feel her fingers still inside of you before she slowly pulls them out of you. Her face still centimeters away from yours, she puts her fingers into her mouth, allowing herself to taste you before turning her head to pull you into a deep kiss once more. You moan into the kiss, tasting yourself on her lips— you swear you’ve never been more turned on. You stay like that for a few mere moments before the beeping of her dryer snaps the two of you out of it.

“Do you feel better, baby?” She asks, coming off of you and sitting up. She fixes her hair and adjusts her shirt.

“Much better.” You say, offering her that same shit eating grin in return.

Minnie cups your face with her free hand, giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek before standing up from the couch.

“I’ll go get your clothes…”

[sunshine-zenith]

Okay but like. AU where Mary doesn’t actually learn Cas is an Angel until waaaaay later

Her first introduction to Cas involves Dean frantically getting her to lower her gun, Cas tearfully throwing himself at Dean like a widower reunited with their believed-dead spouse, Dean hugging Cas back just as tightly, and her giving them that Oh They Gay side eye. When Dean says Cas is an Angel, let’s be real given the context she has it probably sounds Super Married. Cas agreeing that he’s an Angel, not a hunter, could come off as “yeah I put up with so much shit for this guy,” especially when paired with his exasperated “no I don’t have a harp” — it just screams “we’ve been married so long that this isn’t even an inside joke it’s a double act and I’m a reluctant but committed participant.”

Also seriously, I know she was literally just resurrected by god’s sister, but “he’s an Angel —wings, harp, you know” sounds like spousely teasing, not a proper or coherent introduction to an entire species that until that moment you didn’t know where actually real or something you could tangibly interact with

When Sam and Dean are missing and Cas attempts to locate them and takes up hunting, Mary would chalk up his lack of success to the fact that he’s not a hunter — he’s a hunter’s husband. Mary herself has personal experience with this exact thing, given that John wasn’t raised a hunter either. As such, she’s either a little softer on her assumed son-in-law, or she projects hard onto him

Cas preferring to fight with a magic blade and not firearms? Not wise in their life, but again, he’s not actually a hunter. She tentatively brings up her concerns with Dean and he says he’s working on getting Cas to use a gun, but Cas is a stubborn asshole (he says with fondness), plus he’s damn good with that blade, so he’s fine in the meantime. She raises her eyebrow but leaves it for the time being

That time Cas kills Death for her and her sons? That’s just devoted husband/in-law behavior, especially given how emotional he gets after — look closely, Cas absolutely had very human tears in his eyes as he monologues about how important and special they are to him

That time Cas almost dies horribly and is saved by a demon? Everyone just doesn’t say “it’s specifically because he’s an Angel” here, at least not when she’s in ear shot, and if Crowley still calls him “choir boy” and such, well he’s a sarcastic demon, why should she worry about his weird quips, there are more important things to deal with. For all she knows, this is just a horrible curse that any of them could’ve gotten if they were stabbed with that blade

One time she tentatively asks Sam about Cas and Dean, specifically asking how long they’ve been together. Sam just laughs in Long Suffering Little Brother

Otherwise, Mary doesn’t really ask, not really wanting to push and frankly not doing so great with the whole My Babies Are Now Older Than Me And Everyone Else I Know Is Dead thing. If Cas is weird about technology or uses strange syntax or usually lets Dean finish his meals for him, she has very little to compare it to and very little brain space to spend on it anyway. She’s still processing that her son is old enough to be married in the first place, who cares if the guy he’s grossly in love with is a little strange. He seems nice enough, and she’s content leave it at that

As a result of her keeping her distance, with a pinch of contrived convenience here, she just straight up misses all the times Cas uses his Grace or references heaven or anything like that

Yes she still knows about the whole Lucifer-Kelly-Nephilim thing, but she could just mentally categorize Lucifer with Powerful Demon — given that she was killed by a powerful demon, she doesn’t really need a theology lesson to know that Satan having a baby is probably bad. Yes she still works with the MOL, but they’ve got her on such an information diet that no one pulls her aside to say “btw you know that non-human celestial being that hangs around with your barbarian sons is a non-human celestial being, right?”

She’s a hunter from a long line of hunters, and even if she makes questionable choices she’s smart and experienced. She just has a massive blind spot where Cas is because she assumes that he’s just her sweet if strange son-in-law that her son is obviously and painfully in love with, and nobody corrects her because they assume she already knows

She finds out by complete accident in the most mundane way possible — Cas lifting the Impala so Dean can do mechanic stuff underneath it, Cas using his Grace to heal someone’s papercut, Cas accidentally cutting himself with a kitchen knife and not reaching to the injury which disappears in 2.8 seconds anyway

She shoots him on the spot. He’s fine, of course, but everyone else collectively loses their shit

At no point is it actually clarified that Dean and Cas aren’t actually together. Instead Mary walks away mildly embarrassed that she had no idea her son-in-law wasn’t human

[henneseyhoe]

I JUST READ THE MELO SMUT🥵🥵so good can you do another one we’re he’s obsessed with the reader like he’s always posting her and showing her love or even like him being overly obsessed and a little dark

CLOSER.

Lamelo x BLACK!FEM!reader.

WARNINGS:!!SLIGHT CNC!!, daddy kink, stalking, mentions of blood and death, k!dnapping, mentions of mental health, kn!fe play(kinda), breeding if you squint, crying(as always), reader is a tad bit delusional, no protection(wrap it before you tap it)

Ps. I feel like being a perfectionist and overthinking fucked this up for me but I can’t keep holding this damn request hostage 😩 so I hope you still enjoy this, it’s LONG lmfao.

Pss. I thought I lost this request, whole time I just had to scroll down LMFAOOO

✮✮✮✮

“Damn, girl. This like the fiftieth love note you’ve gotten this month!” Karina exclaims, looking down at the stack of notes on Y/Ns counter, the girl adding one more from today into the pile. Truthfully, Karina had been sick of seeing them, disgusted by the amount she got weekly. “Girl, stop! It’s not…maybe fortieth” Karina makes a face, side eyeing Y/N with slight scornful expression. She was more than weirded out at the creepy gestures not moving her friend even a bit. Karina on the other hand, got goosebumps even looking at the letters. They were creepy to her, and every time she read one about this mysterious person confessing their love to her bestfriend, she grew more concerned for her wellbeing. “Like that makes a difference, Y/N. You don’t find this shit kinda..weird?” Y/N shrugs, not seeing the point in looking deeper than the notes themselves. A part inside of her liked the attention she got.

“No, not really. It’s kinda sweet!”

“Sweet?! this man, woman, thing, whatever the fuck! Has been writing to you for almost five months now and has not shown their face. You don’t think that’s creepy?”

“I dunno. Maybe they shy, Karina”

“Nuh-uh. I don’t trust it, I don’t like it. What if it’s your ex?” Y/N laughs, taking her jacket off and setting it on a coat hanger in her closet before heading to her kitchen to prepare a meal, Karina following closely behind her to continue her scolding.

“You are so dramatic, you know that? Me and Jason haven’t talked in so long, I doubt it. I haven’t even seen the nigga around”

“So? Nothing about me is dramatic, I’m telling you the truth. That’s more than a secret admirer, that’s a stalker”

Y/N shrugged her off, laughing once again, and further annoying Karina with her lack of urgency to get down to the bottom of the situation at hand. “Stalker? What is this, a lifetime movie?”

“No, it’s real life. that’s why I need you to stay ready for whatever, especially with that creepy ass message your ex sent you after your breakup”

Little did she know, her friend was right all along. It wasn’t her ex, but someone who was far more demented and delusional. Lamelo had been sending eerily specific love letters to Y/N’s house for months, but had been watching her for well over a year now. Almost as soon as he saw her, his last obsession became a buried memory, Y/N now being in the forefront of his mind and sticking there like double sided tape to itself. After some time, he knew her from top to bottom, back to front, and soon, inside and out. If it was up to him, she would have always been his, but he wasn’t the best with approaching women of Y/N’s caliber. She was smart, a college student studying computer science, and none of his silly mind games that’d usually trip up other girls he was interested in would work on her. He had to up his game, and so, he set his plan in motion until he got her in the right place to sink his teeth into her.

✮✮✮✮

“Be safe, okay?”

“Yes, Karina! I won’t get murdered or chopped up over my vacation week, I promise” Y/N joked, but Karina was dead serious, finding no humor in her mess. Y/N’s smile drops, and she becomes serious, mostly so Karina would leave her alone about those ‘silly little notes’. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll be safe” she reassured, both the girls finally saying their goodbyes with a loving hug and wave. Closing the door, Y/N sighs. Karina was her bestest friend in the world, but sometimes she could be overbearing. Y/N felt maybe she needed a bit of attention since her recent breakup. She craved it, really. It didn’t matter if the attention was physical or something with a little less contact, Y/N wanted it. But, It wouldn’t go farther than that, she didn’t need a rebound.

Walking into her kitchen where she just finished preparing dinner, she began making herself a plate of spaghetti and freshly toasted bread. The smell of the food made her stomach growl. She knew if she didn’t give Karina a plate of her own before she left, she’d complain that Y/N hogged all that good food to herself. Satisfied with the plate she made, she grabbed her a fork from the dishwasher and sat down at the dining table. Taking a generous amount of pasta on her fork, her mouth watered just as she was about to send her tastebuds to food-heaven.

Then, the doorbell rang.

The girl pauses, praying whoever the hell that was would go away on their own so she could finish eating.

Knock, knock, knock.

Damn. Her lights were on, they knew she was home. She sighs, her fork lowering back down to her plate. Swallowing the saliva that had accumulated in her mouth, she unsticks herself from her comfortable seat, grumpily making her way towards the front door. Oddly, she saw no one through the frosted glass frame placed in the middle of the door, so she was forced to open it up and see what was going on.

“Hello??” She called, aggravated by how she had to leave her hot dinner just to answer the door and be met with silence. Stepping out on her porch a little, her eyes scan her yard, though nothing but darkness surrounded. Shaking her head, Y/N slams the door shut and locks it. “Stupid ass kids knockin’ on my door. One day imma stick my foot up one of they asses” She rants, walking back to her little set up. Feeling happiness again, she takes that lovely bite of food and does a little dance in her seat.

As her eating progresses, she couldn’t help but to notice her vision blurring, creating two of everything around her. Her head began to spin, and her heartbeat could be heard in her ears mid bite. She had lost her appetite completely by now, currently only focusing on not throwing up all over her table.

‘Where’s my phone?’

She could have sworn she had set it right next to her plate, but it was no where to be found now, even in her corrupted vision. Holding her head in her free hand, she gags at the sudden smell that fills her nose. It was a faint smell, but noticeable. sweet smelling, almost. Ironic for the bitter moment. Her brain told her to stand, and she followed suit, but she couldn’t stop the weakening of her knees or how slowed her breathing was getting.

Her body hit the floor with a ‘THUD’, her limbs feeling completely weighted down, and her consciousness slipping from her as she laid on the cold tiled floor, unable to move.

✮✮✮✮

There she was. Finally where Lamelo wanted her to be. He was so jittery and giddy about his successes that he could scream, but he held off on that till he was alone. His letters, fake pages, dms, and Instagram likes had finally paid off. He had her all to himself, and finally, no one was in his way. Not her colleagues, not Karina, not even her ‘crazy ass’ ex. He had gotten rid of him as soon as tension rose in their relationship. Jason hadn’t seen REAL crazy till he met Lamelo, and he made sure he knew that before his last breath.

The first time Lamelo and Jason interacted was when he witnessed their first relationship fight, which was fairly petty, but Melo didn’t see it that way. He had left a reeeal lengthy note on Jason’s dorm door, describing in step by step detail about how he would gut him like a fish, cut him up into tiny pieces and send every single bit of him off to his ‘helpless whore of a mother’, as Melo described her as. Of course Jason was shaken up, rightfully so. But obviously not shaken up enough to back off.

After not talking to Y/N since the argument, Jason appeared on her porch with that same note, tearing her a new one. He thought Karina was playing jokes on him for arguing with her bestfriend and making her cry. He took his anger out on her, yelled up a storm, and burned up the letter in his hand with his lighter, leaving it on the poor girls porch to stomp out as tears flowed from her glossed brown eyes.

Lamelo took the whole thing as a challenge. Did he really think Karina was on his level of literacy? That note was too well typed for it to be her. So, him being the man he was, made his threats come to fruition. He easily beckoned Jason into close arm reach by teasing him on his campuses basketball court as Jason was doing solo drills. Lucky for Lamelo, he trained at night.

Walking himself into the low lit court, Lamelo began taunting him, which stretched over three whole minutes. Knowing the hot head would react with physical anger, Lamelo kept a guard, and as soon as Jason tried him, Lamelo revealed the bat he held behind his back, swiftly taking a mighty swing at the man’s left leg, hitting right below his knee. Jason couldn’t have possibly seen it coming.

“Right out the park!” Lamelo continued to tease with a wide smile as if blood wasn’t splattered on his shoes. Red spilled from the back of Jason’s knee from his bone completely breaking and stabbing its way through his muscles and skin. You could have heard the snap of the bone and the sound of him hitting the floor echo through the gym, a sound Melo wanted to hear, but Jason’s loud screaming ruined getting the full effect. “I guess this is the part where I run to base” Grabbing the man by his destroyed, bloodied leg, Lamelo drags Jason off of the court as he screams bloody murder.

Lamelo instantly began regretting not bringing anything else to knock him out with without killing him, but every mastermind had slip ups. a shame somebody is gonna hear his screams and probably have nightmares about it now though. Not that Lamelo cared about either parties wellbeing, he just didn’t wanna hear his or anyone else’s mouth.

Then, in Lamelo’s basement face down, Jason continues to cry like a baby while Lamelo took a much needed drink break for the sake of his sanity, or what was left of it.

“How the fuck am I supposed to play ball now!?” Jason heaves suddenly with a quiet sob leaving his dry lips, his coffee colored hands holding his thigh as the blood spilling slowed. “You genuinely thought you were gonna get that far?”

Before Jason had time to attempt to answer, two bullets were already lodged into his skull, one exiting from between his eyebrows and one through his left eye socket.

✮✮✮✮

His daydreaming was cut short by Y/N mixing in her seat. Her consciousness had finally came back, but confusion quickly filled that space in her mind that was once occupied by unconsciousness. She looks around, not recognizing anything around her. “Look who’s up” Melo leans up from his seat in front of her, peeling off the ghostface mask he wore just for dramatic purposes. Y/N’s eyebrows knit together. “I know whatchu thinking. Where am I? Who are you? I’ll tell you all that later. But, for right now, we’re gonna celebrate” He smiles, and tosses the mask, standing from the couch he sat on.

Walking over to a small bar, he pours an unknown drink into a glass. Y/N had no idea what was going on, nor did she really care to find out. She was too worried about all the guns and knives that were laid out on the floor next to his seat. Fear pumped up her body with adrenaline, her entire being tingling. She wanted to jump out of her seat, but her arms were tied behind her back, and her ankles were tied to the chair’s own legs.

“I wanna make a toast. To a new life, and new love” He held up his glass and drunk some of the mystery liquor. Waking over to her, he holds the glass to her lips. “Drink” he instructed, Y/N shaking her head and looking away. “Why not? You think I poisoned it or somethin’?” He takes his hand and grabs her jaw, forcing her to look at him. “I wouldn’t do that to myself, so drink” he insists.

Looking back at him, her eyes trace his features, stretching down his long, tatted arms. Creepy shit aside, she thought he was cute, but she had to stay focused. “If you don’t drink, imma just force you” Y/N didn’t budge, but Lamelo had no problem with setting her straight early on. Gripping the sides of her face to make her open her mouth, he tilts her head back roughly and pours the drink into her mouth. The liquid went down smoothly, but burned her throat like hell. She didn’t drink, she never did because she got drunk easily, and Lamelo knew that.

She jerks her head away with a strong gag, tears welling up in her eyes. “I dunno if you realized yet, but I’m the one in charge, I’m the one who ain’t tied up, I’m the one that could end you like *snap* that” he threatens with a snap, but it holds no weight to him. He wasn’t gonna kill this one, or at least he hoped he wouldn’t have to. “I know you’re a smart girl, so I know you can listen. I didn’t go through all those letters to find out you can’t follow simple instructions, pretty”

Her eyes were drawn to him, anger now flickering within them like a flame in a dark room. “Letters?…You were the one writing those fuckin’ letters?” She spoke through clenched teeth. Lamelo smiles. “Surpriiiise~” he sings, gulping down the rest of the alcohol before slamming the glass down on the floor. The glass shattered into pieces, making Y/N jump at the sound. Her breathing was ragged, and pressure built up behind her eyes like a dam waiting to be cracked open.

“You’re a sick person” She spoke with distress, shaking her head. Melo shrugs with no sympathy. If he had a dollar for every time someone said that to him, he’d be a Rockefeller. “Everybody sick, I just have no problem showing mine, unlike the rest of society”

“Jesus Christ” she muttered, her head hanging low in regret. Karina was right all along, and she didn’t listen. If she did, she wouldn’t be in this position, her life in the hands of a man she didn’t even know. “Don’t act so sad. You’re gonna love me…or at least learn to. again, you’re smart”

“I don’t wanna love you. I wanna go home”

“You are home. Don’t be stupid” He spat, waltzing by her and picking up a blade from the floor, inspecting in. Y/N tenses up, Lamelo immediately noticing. He side eyes her with a slight smirk, mischief infesting his energy. “You think imma cut you, Y/N?” She kept quiet, but he continued to pry. “You think imma scar that pretty frame you got? What about this beautiful face?” He walks over to her, using the knife to swipe a box braid out of her vision. Y/N sniffles, taking a deep breath.

“Let. Me. Go”

“Or what?” Lamelo challenged, getting close to her as Y/N gave him a look, one he couldn’t make out or tell if it was anger. “You can’t do shit, I made sure. I tied you real good. Your friend thinks you went on vacation, so if you aren’t answering tomorrow, that just means you made it safe and you’re having fun. Maybe found yourself a fun fling that’s distracting that pretty mind. Somebody you invited up to your room” he continues, the tip of his knife swiftly making a cut into her gown with a quick swipe, making the thin fabric fall from the top of her body, pooling into her lap.She wanted to cover her naked body, but the rope restraints stuns her movements.

“Would you take me back to your hotel room, Y/N? I would have been a great candidate” the sadistic nature of him alone had her terrified, he could have done anything to her. She began shedding tears. She was exposed now, realizing the gown wasn’t even something she remembered wearing or buying, so he had to have put it on her himself when she was knocked out.

If he pulls the rest off, she was for sure fucked, no pun intended. He stares with no shame, the tip of his tongue grazing his plump bottom lip.

‘Fuck’

She attempts clenching her thighs together to stop the tingling, but it never subsided, and her brown nipples getting as hard as pebbles helped nothing. She wanted to keep a guard up so badly for her own safety, but the wetness coating the lips between her legs was telling her to do something else.

He notices how her legs were trying to move and her hips slowly circled, unintentionally trying to find a specific position to stimulate her clit. She couldn’t help it, she just wanted the tingling to stop. “Lemme help you wit’ that, ma” Melo smirks, putting his hand right under her soaked pussy. She stops immediately and lifts her butt as much as she can, feeling the warmth of his hand under her. She shakes her head ‘no’, but he nods a ‘yes’ and keeps his hand placed, kneeling on one knee in front of her. “Go ‘head” He says. The approval he gave her lingered in her head as the tingling intensified, giving her no choice but to fall into temptation.

Y/N hesitantly lowers herself down and begins to move against his hand, swirling, bouncing, and grinding down at the speed she wanted as her hips stuttered backwards every time his finger tips would swipe over her clit. She let out a stifled moan and threw her head back, rocking her hips faster as she felt herself climb closer to her end. Lamelo only fed her urges by bringing his hand up higher every time she’d raise her hips when the feeling got too strong, aiming to stimulate her clit through even the strongest parts of her orgasm. His dick was as hard as an iron pole in his pants now. It almost painfully pressing up against the material, the tip leaking precum just practically begging to be set free so he could fuck something, and soon it’d get its turn. Y/N could just see it through her eyelashes, she couldn’t help but look, it was so obvious.

Lamelo slides his fingers between her wet folds, collecting her slick to keep her clit wet while she used him as she pleased. “Speed up” he instructed.

✮✮✮✮

Fifteen minutes had passed and she had already came twice in the palm of his hands. Her seat was sticky and her thighs were wet, but Lamelo’s hand and arm were wetter. He slid his hand from under her and took a taste of what he had craved for so long. All of the timeless nights he had spent looking through her bedroom window, watching her feel, fuck, and taste herself, wishing he was there to catch every drop.

Feeling defeated, Y/N’s head lulls backwards as she rests her eyes on the ceiling above her. There was no other sound but the ringing frequency in her ear and the huffing of her breath trying to slow itself. She could hear her own heartbeat slowing too, just until the sound of wood creaking above them drowned the sound out. She pauses, her eyes shooting wide.

‘Who could possibly be here? could they help?’

Was what she began thinking as all the color from Lamelo’s face seemingly drained, his breath now still. Suddenly he reaches for the knife he held earlier, grabbing it from the floor and clutching it in his hand. Just in case someone had creeped down the stairs to the basement and witnessed what had been going on, he had no problem getting rid of whoever was responsible for ruining their moment.

The walking upstairs prologued, the hot tears that filled her eyes starting to flood her flushed cheeks as he placed a finger over her lips, signaling her to shut up. The cold blade of his knife pressed against the skin of her throat, so hard that she could practically feel her pulse and she was holding her breath purposely, scared the blade would cut her precious soft skin if she moved even an inch, and he cared less.

As the footsteps went away, distancing from them, he moves his hand. He lets out a much needed breath of relief and licks his lips, a smile growing on his face. “Roommate. Thought we were goners there for a second. You did good though, ma” He praises, standing from his crouching position. “I think you deserve a treat because of that”

Positioning his knife under the rope that held her feet in place, he looks up at her with a warning look before cutting both of her legs free. He walks around the chair and does her hands next, giving Y/N the room to rub her aching joints, feeling relief. Only one thought ran through her mind just then, and though she was tired from the recent back to back orgasms, she knew she only had one chance to get it right. So, she stood like a lamb taking its first steps, and took a run for it.

‘Please, please, please’

She pleaded in her head over and over again as she ran though the large basement, hoping to find an exit. Just as she had spotted a door at the end of a dark stairway, light of freedom shining through the cracks, her body jerked backwards and spun in the opposite direction, the miss placement of her sore feet being the reason why she hit the floor. The taste of iron filled her mouth from the gash on the inside of her lip, her teeth accidentally biting down on it as she went down.

She thanked god that carpet covered the floor or else she would have definitely knocked a tooth loose, and maybe lost one. “Run pretty fast for someone who’s been tied up for hours” He flipped her over so easily, prying her legs open so he could kneel between them. He admired her entire body as he held both her wrists down above her head with just one hand so he could capture them in a pair of cuffs, making sure she had no fighting chance this time. She couldn’t believe his hand was big enough to hold down both, and even with her struggling, he didn’t budge once.

✮✮✮✮

The take down was rough, but when he fucked, it was nothing like she expected. He slid his shaft along her clit, the pink bud erect and sticking out from her hood. He couldn’t stop himself from jumping against her pussy with excitement, the tip of his dick slapping the bottom of her belly with every bounce. He pulls his hips back, the tip of him now resting against her dripping entrance, ready to ruin her for the next, if Lamelo didn’t get to him first. “Stop..” She mutters, but deep down, she was really anticipating the contact.

Her sexual organs were completely against her once again, fogging her mind with thoughts of him she didn’t want and didn’t expect to have. She was forced to sit there, pondering on how he felt and how deep he could go inside of her, but she no longer had to wonder as he pushed his hips back forward to give her a taste of what she would be stuck with for the rest of her days.

He sunk into her slowly, her walls gripping him as a welcome upon entrance. He practically had to force himself inside with a drawn out sigh as Y/N sucks in air, both of them exchanging looks into their eyes before looking down at where they connected. Her stomach involuntarily sucks in, showing the bulge of his dick every time he thrusted forward with skill into her. The feeling deep down was so indescribable, so good that she almost cracked a smile. She hadn’t even noticed how much he was stretching her out, she was too busy feeling every inch of him.

Her eyes rolls back and her toes curled as she brought her legs back further for him, Lamelo smiling at how he didn’t even have to tell her to do so. He was just proud that she was learning, but she had much more to get down pact.

“Good girl…” he rasps.

“It’s so fucking deep” She whispers, her voice slightly hoarse from her throat being dry. As his hips tempo changed, the chains connected to her wrists made jingling sounds, making music with the clapping of their thighs joining in the harsher he got. He couldn’t tell if his bodies reaction to her was cause he hadn’t had sex in a long time or if she was just that damn tight. Meanwhile, YN was Lost in clouds of her own, feeling the repetitive push of Lamelo’s tip knocking against her g-spot, her own cream starting to slip out of her and drip down to her ass.

“This pussy grippin’” Melo compliments, one of his hands moving downwards to grip at the girls throat, making her tear up once again.

“Yeah? You like it?” She spoke breathlessly, the man above her nodding and laying a singular kiss on her lips, making her swoon momentarily before going back to her struggling whimpers.

“Mhmm, fuck” He moans. He never moaned, but he guessed she was changing him too.

“Call me daddy”

“Daddy!”

“Yeah, what’s my name?”

“Daddy! Fuck!”

“You so fuckin’ pretty, mamas” he groans out, almost whimpering as his dick pushed inside her further and further. She felt like he was trying to make her cervix a home for his dick with how deep he was going. Y/N began to think how they had gone too far for her to ignore how she was enjoying every bit of this. No matter how much she tried to tell her pussy to stop cumming for him, she continued, making the carpet under her soaked with her honey. Hours ago she wished her hands were untied to beat his ass, but now she wished they were uncuffed so she could trace his tattoos while he dug her out.

He was hitting spots that not even her ex man was hitting.

Using her thighs for leverage, he begins to fuck her in a push-up position, ramming his long dick directly into her coven, her walls squeezing him almost like she was showing thanks without words. Her juices made it easier for him to fuck her with no limit, slipping and sliding into her with no trouble apart from how tight she was gripping.

He didn’t hold off to cum either, he had already came twice, but he had more to give her and she had no choice but to take it. He was convinced he could imprint on her, and it was a bonus if his seed grew inside of her after all this hard work he put in. She was gonna stay with him, and he was gonna make sure of it.

✮✮✮✮

[andhumanslovedstories]

I was in the ICU last night taking care of medsurg overflow patients—that’s when you aren’t sick enough to be in the ICU anymore but we don’t have a bed anywhere else for you yet. I don’t like floating to the ICU. It’s such a coin flip as to whether you’re gonna have a hard night or an easy one. You almost never get a full load of four patients, and that’s so nice, but the one or two or three patients you do have are all sick enough to have needed intensive care six hours ago. They’re usually still not doing amazingly. But they’re floor status now, so it’s medsurg patient ratios. But if you were a medsurg floor, the charge would probably be like “let’s not give three patients of this high an acuity to one nurse.”

Also some of them are NOT floor status. They’re just “slightly less likely to die in the next 12 hours status.” What we really need is a step down unit which is somewhere between the extreme high acuity of the ICU and the catchall category of medsurg. Instead we have a couple units that are “essentially step down units,” which means they are just medsurg units but you know your night is probably gonna be so hard.

Besides the patients, the ICU is just so spread out and lonely. Most critical care patients have a 1:1 ratio—one patient to one nurse. That’s on account of how intensive the care is, you see. But it also means whenever you’re like “I would love some help,” everyone else on the floor is like “if I step more than six feet away from my patient, he will die so badly.” It makes it really hard to casually engage in conversation, especially since I’m not qualified to do like anything in the ICU rooms, so I would clearly be going over there to expressly talk to them. And I don’t want to have a conversation! I just want to establish some rapport. I love bounding ideas off other staff! I love being about to shoot the shit a lil bit and then be like “well I have rounds” when one of us has to wander off. No one here has rounds. They are already Right There.

Anyway then the shift ends, and it’s time to pass off your patients. If you’re lucky it’s to another medsurg nurse who also looks a kid realizing too late into the lecture that this is not their class. But sometimes you give report to an ICU nurse who asks questions that are so pertinent and are so fair to ask, but they’re also like. the kind of questions you ask when you expect the person you’re getting report from is another critical care nurse who only has one patient. At a certain point, I just wanna be like “what do you want from me, dude. i’m stupid. every lab you’re asking about is in the chart and you understand them better than I do. can I go home”

That also means when they give you a real softball like “and how many IVs does he have” and you’re like “uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh let’s go count them together shall we” you feel like the biggest dipshit in the world. And then they ask you three more questions each easier than the last as you have traumatic flashbacks to nursing school, specifically the parts where you failed a quiz and also misspelled your name. It just ends the shift on a bad note. Not even a bad note. Real burp of a shift change.

I’m feeling particularly salty because I overheard a couple critical care nurses last night joking about how medsurg nurses are so nervous about the medical boarders and basically saying that we’re always freaking out over nothing while being completely oblivious to the actual symptoms that matter. And as a nurse who once called rapid response because my patient’s heart beat weird for about twelve seconds, I was like “hey. you’re correct. but also must be nice to have just one patient and all shift to read every single thing about them and to sit outside their door next to your fully stocked equipment cart, and to be able to watch them all shift.” And it’s like yeah, critical care nurses can take all the blood out of a person and then put it all back better than before. But I know to turn off lights when I leave a patient room at three in the morning, and apparently in the ICU that’s an even more illusion trick.

But anyway it’s twelve hours later and I’m on the other side of a good good sleep, so I’m less cranky, and back to being appreciative of the specific skills critical care nurses being that are so essential, and also I was like, how pressed can I really be about one group of nurses joking about another group of nurses. that’s like 25 percent of my blog at this point.

[scoutswritingcorner]

Hi, I vaguely remember typing this while half asleep so I apologize if this is a realest request because I genuinely can’t remember if I actually sent it or not. I wanted to request some x male reader headcanons about what sleeping with Angel dust is like, as in literally sleeping in the same bed as him, what’s his nighttime routine, does he hog blankets, etc

Sleep Headcanons

Angel Dust x Male Reader

TW: NONE!!

A/N:This was really fucking cute what-

-🕷️ First off let me say, it’s either he sleeps all day, barely sleeps or doesn’t sleep at all. Not because he’s lazy but because of his line of work, he’s a famous pornstar and one that’s constantly called to work. So when he sleeps, he would like to keep you near him. You don’t have to be asleep, he just wants to feel your arms around him as he sleeps. If you have to get up and leave, leave him a note or maybe a jacket he loves to steal.

-🩷When he does get any amount of sleep, he goes through this long and very specific night time routine. First a bath, wipe his makeup off, put his hair up (if he has time), brush his teeth and get into his comfy pajamas.

-🕷️But sometimes he can’t even do that, so please take it upon yourself to hold him up in your lap and wipe his makeup off his face as he sleeps the day away. 

-🩷 He’s not a big blanket hog but he will steal your blanket from you just cause it smells like you. So be prepared to either curl up against him for warmth or lay on him so he forgets about the blanket. It’s a 50/50 chance it will work so have an extra blanket on hand. Will apologize the next morning.

-🕷️ He does have nightmares at times so when he does he won’t wake you thinking you’d be mad and yell at him for something he can’t control. 

-🩷 He’s a light sleeper on bad days and a heavy sleeper on good ones. Like if he knows he will have to go to work that day, he’s curled up on your chest taking a quick nap. Don’t move too much, you'll wake him up. On the good days he knows he won’t be needed (cause you beat the shit out of Valentino) he’s basically dead to the world. Like, you can blast his favorite music to wake him up and he won’t wake up. It’s scary but you know he’s sleeping cause he is snoring.

-🕷️ A huge snorer and sleep talker. Don’t point it out, it embarrasses him. He mostly sleep talks about anything that comes across his dreams but then he mostly calls for Fat Nuggets and you. 

-🩷 Speaking of Fat Nuggets, he’s Angels cuddle buddy if you have to leave. The little piglet is usually placed between you if you're sleeping but if you're spooning Angel from behind or have to leave? The little piglet moves closer to Angel’s chest. He loves his Papa.

-🕷️ His bed is so comfy like- you could lay on it and within five minutes you are out cold. Especially with all his fluffy and warm blankets he has, you’d still be in your work clothes, lay down to snuggle with Fat Nuggets and then be out like a light. You don’t know how it happens and you don’t want to know.

-🩷Major cuddle bug right here. Will whine if you leave the cuddles and give you puppy dog eyes. Must have a strong will or you will not survive those eyes, cause he pulls the tears out too. Cause he knows you won’t say no to him. Be strong.

-🕷️ The way he asks you in private for cuddles is different than around people. In private, he’ll be all sweet and kiss your cheeks. That’s your cue that he wants cuddles (he’s sweet nonetheless but he ramps it up for cuddle time with his man.) Around people he will make “suggestive” jokes about how he wants you to take him to bed. It makes people weirded out to leave him well enough alone so when you get to his room it’s straight up cuddles.

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Baking With BF!Dean Winchester Headcanons

✨ Dean Winchester x GN!Reader ✨

*sighs in 2014 was 10 years ago* Minors do NOT interact, this is not “rizz-ing!” Off you go!

A/N: I love writing these because they’re like half baked yet surprisingly endearing thoughts and it’s fun haha.

Icons by me!

All notes are appreciated! Hope you enjoy!

Content Warning: I have a bad sense of humor and make some sex jokes but nothing too explicit, at least I think so. Definitely still 18+

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

-3 favorite things to bake with him

1. Pie (obvs)

2. Brownies (sometimes with pot…)

3. Cookies (all kinds)

-okay, now that that's been established...

-one day you had jokingly suggested the bunker should do a cookie jar

-this was taken seriously; not only by Dean, Sam and Cas; but also by literally every regular passerby. Even Rowena's made a batch of red velvet cookies. (We threw those ones away, we couldn't trust that they weren't poisoned, made of blood, or both)

-but if it's just the usual crew (you, the brothers, and Cas) then you have a weekly rotation

-and Dean regularly suckers you into "helping" him, even though you both knows he’s capable of being a big boy (and I mean he is a big boy if you catch my drift) and doing it himself

-those candy apple green eyes work wonders

-anyhoo

-one of his favorite, stupidly cheesy things to do is as follows:

-you’ll have a taste of the batter/dough/filling, as one does (it’s always good cause the two of you together are an unstoppable force in the kitchen) (alone is a different story- it’s usually Kraft Mac n Cheese cups)

-and while you’re trying it, making faces, he’ll look over and innocently ask if he can try it

-like “Can I get some, sweetheart?” (And yes he most certainly can get some.) (batter, I mean) (definitely batter) or “can I try some, doll?”

-and no matter how many times he’s tried it you’ll say yes

-so he’ll lean down, cupping your cheeks in his rough hands and kiss you as passionately as humanly possible

-like, these kisses could literally bake the cookies or whatever because of how hot they are

-and he’ll make sure he really gets to try it

-and then he’ll pull back with a smirk, cause he’s done it at least 30 times before and you still let him and still like melt into a puddle every single time. Without fail.

-you guys like to put on Disney soundtracks in the background when you bake. High school musical and Moana primarily, but he’s also taken with the soundtrack of Julie and the Phantoms. (He complained about the show being unrealistic supernaturally speaking and then was adamant that there should be a season two and cancelling it was a crime worthy of hell)

-also, rock, obviously. As a fan of Bon Jovi, you best believe you sell him on them and slow dance to Bed of Roses while things are in the oven. It’s only right.

-if you’re listening to heat of the moment and Sam the baby giraffe walks in he will get those sad eyes, making both of you scramble to make him something else, like some keto hidden veggie brownies or some shit, to make him feel better

-now, in specifics

-pie is for fun. You two usually make one to split for after dinner. Roughly once a month, but should be more often. Well, that’s not fair if you count creampies

-apple is his favorite, ofc. You use Mary’s recipe, and you’re the only person in the whole wide world that he trusts with modifying it in any way

-you also make them for him if he’s sick or if you guys have for some reason had a fight. The latter is rarer, but does still happen on occasion

-it’s okay though, because pie will always make things better

-cookies are almost exclusively for the jar. These are made on random frequencies, usually a lot at a time.

-he likes butterscotch a lot, and you find a way to mix your favorite flavors into either one monstrosity or one beauty of a cookie

-you guys have in fact made your own recipe. It’s awesome. Like, prized possession material.

-and then brownies

-they’re literally just pimped up store bought mix. Preferably Ghirardelli, for maximum bougie-ness

-and then sometimes you guys add some fun time grass

-you’ll do that when you just want to have a soft night. You’ll always way up to him laying on you and holding you like a koala though- may your back be prepared

-overall he just really enjoys spending time with you in any way that he can and baking is a great way to do that

-Dean Winchester is precious

-I rest my case

If you have any ideas for more headcanons, send a request! My box is always open!

Xx

[luveline]

Hiii, if you’re interested, could I request Eddie but as an ice hockey player?? Your writing is out of this world and I would just love to read about his flushed cheeks after practice or something like that. I hope you’re doing great and I love your stuff❤️❤️❤️

thank you so much, for your request and for being so lovely, it means the world to me! ♡ fem!reader, 1.2k

He comes flying across the ice like he's weightless. A dropping sensation hits your stomach while your heart leaps into your throat, but Eddie saves himself at the last minute with a quick, hard turn, his left foot further out. Ice curls in his wake, sheared by the sharp blade of his skate. 

"How was that?" he calls up to you where you're sitting in the second row of the stands.  

"You can really see a difference," you say, crossing one leg over the other and hiding your frigid fingers between your thighs. "The two hundred metre sprints must be working, Eds. You're like a fricking whippet, it's scary." 

"They better be working," he says. "God, I fucking hate sprints." 

Eddie hates every aspect of his conditioning workouts. He loves hockey, and if he wants to be able to keep up with the rest of his team, let alone the opposition, he needs to stay fit in ways that are specific to the sport, so the sprints are a necessary evil.

He doesn't care for much of it. The deadlifting is a good look on him, though. Watching his muscles physically get bigger in size has been an Experience, capital 'E'. His weight gain in general, actually. 

"Do you feel tired?" you ask. 

Eddie groans, putting his arm up and behind his head, forcing his elbow down with the opposite hand. He doesn't realise how salalcious he appears, worse when he scrunches his eyes closed and turns his face to one side. "I always feel tired. This is good, though. Maybe Steve'll stop busting my ass at practice for getting winded before the third period."

You're glad it's so cold in the rink. His grumpy expression has you flushing all over. 

"Steve spends the majority of his time on the ice hunched over," you say. "Of course he doesn't get winded."

You wouldn't feel comfortable making a snide joke about Eddie's friends usually, but Steve knows you. He calls you Eddie's wife, though you aren't married, always trying to feed you hard pretzels while mouthing off about Eddie's shit plays. Hence your nonchalant disparagement. 

Eddie grins at you, dropping his arms back down to his sides. "Where're your skates, sweetheart? Come and take a lap with me." 

You brought your skates at his request. You'd climb the appalachian trail on your hands and knees if he asked you to, and not just because he's handsome and getting more so everyday, but because he's gorgeous on the inside. Kind of like finding a pretty rock and cracking it open to find gemstone, you'd been drawn to Eddie and his rough exterior, but you've grown to love him for what's inside. His sweetness, his charm. The way he's looking at you now —eyes wide, hopeful. You could believe that the only thing he wants in the whole world is to skate with you. 

"I'll slip again," you fret, having already mentally given in. 

Eddie knows you have, too. "I am not gonna let you fall over," he promises. "Put your gloves back on, yeah? It's cold." 

You put on your skates and gloves and wobble to the gap in the rink walls to step out. Eddie's waiting, taking your elbow into his hand to help you out. He's been playing ice hockey longer than you've known him, and while you've been by his side for his rise to tier 3, you've become less familiar with the ice rather than more. You're frankly intimidated by what he can do. He's fast. He's a great sportsman (with a short fuse, undoubtedly, but he's never unkind to the people around him) (besides that one on-ice official). Eddie's amazing, but he can't give you confidence on the ice. Only practice can do that. 

You're not super willing to practise. "Please don't let me fall on my ass, Eddie." 

"There's nobody here to see it. And if you fall, I'll help you up, I swear. But you're not going to fall over." 

While not specifically true, recreational skaters making lazy laps and a young figure skater working on waltz jumps in the defending zone, his surety makes you feel better.

Being on skates is a strange feeling. Eddie skates with the same ease as he walks. You freeze up, locking your hips. He moves his hand from your elbow to your hand. You can feel his fingers like blocks of ice through your gloves.

"Do you want to try just walking, or would you feel better skating in a circle?" he asks. 

"Uh–" Your footing slips. You're panicking. "Um, whatever you want." 

His cheeks glow with blush, his nose tip like a budding rose. He doesn't feel the cold anymore, nor fear of falling, setting you both on a speed akin to a light jog. You breathe out with a nervous squeak, fingers locked around his hand. 

"You got it," he says, in his way, too cool for you. His voice is awfully pretty sometimes, a little rough, all fond. He dotes via praise, his thumb petting pointless circles into the back of your hand. "You're always better than you think." 

"I don't know how you can find this fun," you say nervously. 

He tips his chin up, his disorderly bun pressed to the back of his neck. "It's not all fun. Sometimes I don't wanna do it as much as I did when I started, but sometimes I wanna do it more than ever. Like, getting bumped up? Well, you know how I felt." 

He'd hugged you so hard the air got knocked out of you. The celebrations were unrestrained. 

"I love hockey almost as much as I love you," he says, sending an appreciative smile your way. 

Your heart skips. "You love me more than hockey?"

"What kind of a question is that? Of course I do." He slows his skating, slows you with him, and kisses your cheek. His lips are as cold as his fingers. "But I want you to love hockey, so first you need to skate." 

"Don't yank me." 

"I'm yanking you, sweetheart. It's just like roller-blading." 

"I can't rollerblade." 

"No?" he asks, picking up his foot and putting it down, his thighs moving outward with each stroke. You scramble to keep up with him. 

"Eddie!" you shout, terrified as you swing around a corner. Despite the fear, you know he won't let you get hurt. Well, super hurt. 

"You're fine! Come on, let's see if we can meet my lap time." He smiles. Red cheeks, pink lips, and the world's warmest brown eyes. "You should start doing sprints with me. And lifting! That would be hot." 

You'd snort if you weren't too busy trying to stay in an upright position. You'll be surprised if Eddie has any bones left in his hand tonight when you're done. 

He doesn't once complain about your vice-like grip. 

[lassofics]

Black Eye

Word count: 980

Timeline: Post Season 3

Warnings: Heavily implied abuse

Summary: After a Man City match, Jamie comes to training with a black eye.

Notes: This fic was created and is being published as a part of #Whumpuary2025 !!

James Tartt Sr. had chosen to drive all the way down to Nelson Road. But not to see his son, of course; his son meant nothing to him. Man City was playing Richmond, and leave it to the old man to never miss one of his favorite team’s matches.

The match had been close, but Richmond had come out on top. The whole team had celebrated that night, going to their usual pub to get drunk and relish in their win.

And by the time Jamie Tartt had gone home for the night, everyone was too wasted to remember his prick father was in town — including Jamie himself.

He’d been hoping the black eye would heal before training on Monday, but no matter how much he’d iced it and rested it, the discoloration was still visible Monday morning. Knowing he didn’t have much of a choice, Jamie had just sighed and made his way to the training grounds.

Just as he’d suspected, the moment he walks into the locker room, his black eye catches the attention of his teammates — specifically Dani, who rushes over to him, looking far more concerned than he should.

“Amigo, what happened to your face?” he asks, staring up at Jamie like he’s a wounded puppy or some shit.

Jamie just waves a hand dismissively. “Fuckin’ bar fight, innit?”

Dani’s eyes widen slightly, and he puts a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “When?”

“Yesterday,” Jamie replies, just a little too quickly. He adds, with a self-assured but falsified smirk, “you should see the other guy.”

Dani lets out a sigh and squeezes Jamie’s shoulder. “What are we always telling you, amigo? Don’t get into these fights.”

Jamie’s mind drifts back to that less-than-pleasant interaction with his father, and he grumbles, “I don’t start them.”

_________________

A few more teammates — Sam, Colin, and Isaac specifically — had asked the same question as Dani. And Jamie had given them the same answer. Other than a worried (and slightly suspicious) glance from Sam, everyone seemed to buy it.

Honestly, Jamie isn’t even thinking about it anymore. He’s just running his drills, joking around with the lads, and distracting himself from whatever pain he’s feeling — in that area or otherwise.

But once training ends and each player is a sweaty, exhausted mess, Roy calls him over.

“Oi, Tartt. Stay back a minute.”

Jamie, breathing heavily, wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead, then jogs up to Roy as the other lads walk off the pitch. “Yeah, Coach?”

Roy just gives him a look, one that makes Jamie’s cocky smile fade. Their eyes meet. Jamie swallows thickly and quickly averts his gaze.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You don’t have to.”

They stand there face to face for another moment, with Jamie shifting awkwardly on his feet. He could jog off to the locker room with the rest of the lads, but something’s keeping him glued in place.

“He was drunk,” he finally blurts out, as if that’s some kind of excuse. “A-and so was I. I-I mean, I had a lot of fucking drinks to celebrate.”

“I know.”

Their gazes meet again, and it’s hard for Jamie to maintain that eye contact. Roy’s looking at him with such intense protectiveness and an undeniable affection that almost feels tangible. It’s a lot for Jamie to handle, especially right now.

“I didn’t even fucking see him,” Roy grumbles out, briefly lowering his gaze — as if he feels guilty. For what, Jamie has no clue.

“He, uh…” Jamie lowers his gaze, too, suddenly finding the patch of grass by Roy’s feet to be incredibly interesting. “He was chugging down beers in my driveway. Waitin’ for me.”

Roy stares at him in disbelief. In his mind, that means it could’ve been prevented.

“Jamie, I… if I’d have known he was coming, I…”

“It’s fine,” Jamie counters quickly, holding up a hand and forcing a weak smile. “Really. Barely even hurt. I’m tougher than I look, yeah?”

Roy just continues staring at him, his dark eyes practically piercing into Jamie’s skull.

“Is he still in town?”

Jamie bites his lower lip. He hadn’t even thought about that. “I… I don’t know. Haven’t seen him since he gave me this.” He gestures towards his black eye. “And that was right after the match on Saturday. He’s, uh… he’s probably home by now.”

Roy lets out a sharp exhale, then takes a step closer to Jamie, gazing down at him with an intensity that could make a grown man shiver. It almost has that effect on Jamie. Almost.

“The next time we play City, you’re fucking staying at mine,” he says firmly. It’s not an offer; it’s a demand. Jamie knows this.

“Yeah, okay,” he murmurs, lowering his gaze again.

There’s a brief moment of silence before Roy hesitantly asks, “did you know he was coming?”

Jamie bites his lip again. There’s no point in lying; Roy’s just gonna figure it out anyway. So, he nods.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jamie shrugs, still looking down. “It’s not like it matters.”

“Oi.” Roy suddenly grabs Jamie’s shoulder in a rough but loose grasp. “It fucking matters.”

Taking a breath, Jamie tries to hold back the tears that suddenly threaten to form. Roy’s voice is filled with a conviction that makes his head spin. He fucking cares.

“Thanks,” Jamie mumbles under his breath, finally lifting his head to look back at Roy. What he sees is that the older man’s expression has softened, and he’s now gazing at Jamie with something close to adoration. Jamie’s heart suddenly races.

But he doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because Roy just squeezes his shoulder and gives him a gentle push. “Go home, Tartt.”

Jamie nods, offering Roy a small smile — this one much more genuine — before jogging off the pitch.

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

I’m at my desk trying to focus on writing code for our game, but it’s slow going. Distracted by my own thoughts, I find myself staring out the window in front of me more often than not while my fingers rest on the keyboard. Ash sits patient and unbothered on my bed, playing on my Switch while he waits for me to finish.

We’re quieter today than usual, both of us tired and mildly hungover from the night before, but still determined to make some progress today.

I try my best to clear my mind, to focus on the screen in front of me and listen to the music coming from my Lin-Z speaker, quietly singing along and bouncing my leg anxiously to the beat. Every once in a while, Ash chimes in, singing a line or two along with me, and I realize how often I make him put up with my playlist even though he much prefers his own. But I have a specific one that helps me when I work, so he usually doesn’t protest too much.

As I sing the lyrics to Your Silent Face for about the thousandth time in my life, and still never tiring of it, I hear Ash join me in singing the last line, “You’ve caught me at a bad time. So, why don’t you piss off,” and we both chuckle under our breath. Over time it’s become a joke between us, ever since the day he walked up to me at work to invite me out for a drink and caught me singing the line aloud.

I think about that night at the bar often. Sitting in the dark corner, like we were in our own world, nothing in the universe existing but the two of us, talking until the bar closed. I remember how disappointed I was when we were eventually forced to leave, how nervous I was as we stood on the edge of the sidewalk. And I’ll never forget the first time that I kissed him.

I can’t help but wonder where we’d be now if I’d let things continue, if I hadn’t gotten in my head and panicked, if I hadn’t pushed him away. And I want nothing more than to set things right.

As he sits behind me on my bed, I can’t stop thinking about the last time he was there and the words he said to me. I wish I’d handled it differently. I want to take it all back. To tell him he was right. But I don’t know how. Ash is the easiest person in the world to talk to, and yet, every time I think of opening my mouth to say anything I have a deep sense of dread that it will come out all wrong, that I’ll somehow make everything worse by doing so.

“I have a question.” The sound of Ash’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I stop typing, suddenly nervous, though I’m not sure why.

“What’s up?”

“The whole I-don’t-date-people-I-work-with thing, is that for real? Or is it your way of letting me down gently?”

I’m a bit confused by his question. Could he really think I’m not into him and just saying that to spare his feelings? “No, I meant it.”

“Why? What’s the big deal?”

I get up from my desk and walk over to join him on the bed as I think about how to answer. I hate that I suddenly feel the need to defend an argument that I don’t fully believe, but what else am I supposed to do? Say never mind, I was full of shit? Or actually I’ve changed my mind, let’s forget about it. I can’t do that. So, I give a reason, and secretly hope he makes a solid rebuttal that will give me the opening I need to take it back, “It’s messy,” I say, “Like, if we get in a fight or break up, and still have to work together, it’s just—”

“Messy?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay...” he stands and walks over to my bookshelf, looking over it like he’s suddenly very interested in my old worn-out copies of Tolkien books. I have a tendency to reread the same books, the same way I listen to the same songs over and over. I suppose I find comfort in the familiar. Maybe even more so than most. I’m tempted to make a comment about it, but I know Ash well enough by now to know that he’s not interested in the books, that he’s thinking carefully about what he wants to say next, so I wait. Eventually, he turns back to me, “So, if we didn’t work together…?”

“Then, it’d be different.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up into a smirk as he walks over. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of me, his legs between mine. He tilts his head to the side curiously, “Different how? Show me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s pretend for, say, five minutes, that we don’t work together.” He leans forward, bringing his hand up to my cheek, his face mere inches from mine, the spices from the chai tea he drank on his way over still lingering on this breath, and I feel a rush of heat fill my face and neck as if the very nearness of him has set me alight.  

“Five minutes?”

“Mhm,” he grins, “Five minutes. What would you do differently?” His eyes take on that playful glimmer that makes my heart race. I know that look. He knows I know that look. And it all goes to my head until all I can think about is pulling him back onto the bed with me.  

 “Set a timer.”

He smiles as he pulls his phone from his pocket, the warmth of his hand still lingering on my cheek as he slides his thumb over the screen before turning it around to show me it’s set for exactly 05:00. “Starting… now,” he presses the green button and tosses it onto the bed.

I waste no time, reaching for him as soon as the phone leaves his hand, and pulling him with me as I lie back. He falls on top of me with a startled laugh.

I don’t have the luxury of taking things slowly, of savoring each second the way I normally would. Instead, I roll him over and kiss him fiercely. Our legs intertwine, and I hold him as close to me as I can, wishing we’d had time to remove our clothes so I could feel his skin against mine.

Our kisses become deep and passionate, and I start to resent the timer counting down, my awareness of it preventing me from fully giving in to the moment. I’m tempted to reach over and turn it off, but I can’t do that, so instead I move my lips to his jaw, following the path of his birthmark and burying my face in his neck wishing I could pause time through sheer will alone.

And then the timer goes off. A series of loud beeps brings the room back into focus, and we pull away, breathless and laughing.

“Time’s up,” I say as I prop myself up on my elbow.

“Damn. I should’ve gone for an hour.”

“That would’ve been dangerous.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Guess you’ll never know,” I laugh as he pushes me away playfully so he can get to his phone, still beeping behind us.

The sounds of Blue Monday coming from the speaker take the place of the alarm as he shuts it off and slides the phone back into his pocket. “Okay, well,” he looks over at me, “you’ve convinced me.”

Convinced him? I suddenly feel as though I’ve missed something along the way. “Convinced you of what?”

“I’ll put in my notice on Monday.”

Everything inside me halts. My heart, my breath, every cell in my body stopping in their tracks. “You’re not serious.”

He shrugs as though what he’s saying is no big deal, “Why not? It’s just a job. I’ll find another one. Question is, is that enough? Or are you gonna make me wait the two weeks until I’m actually gone?”

My body restarts again, overcorrecting and going into overdrive, panicking at the idea of him leaving, of not seeing him every day. Getting coffee, going for walks, eating lunch, telling stupid inside jokes over IM and hearing him laugh from across the room… all of it… ending. “I… I don’t want you to quit.”

“Well, if you won’t let me be both, then I choose boyfriend over co-worker.”

“Wh- boyfriend?” A fresh wave of anxiety pours over me at the word. I mean, I get it, we’re obviously not just friends, I don’t think we ever have been, and we’re clearly incapable of being casual, at least with each other, so boyfriend makes sense, but hearing him say the word only reminds me of how incompetent and inexperienced I am when it comes to real relationships.

“Or am I just a piece of ass?”

“What?! No, of course not, it’s not like that.”

“What’s the problem then?”

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I have no idea what I’m supposed to say. My head spins, scrambling to come up with something... I can’t let him quit his job just to be with me. It’s too much. And I don’t want to not work with him. But I can’t tell him I want him to stay and be with me. Not after all the time I’ve spent insisting he can’t. Even if I could, I have no idea how to be his boyfriend. Not for real. But isn’t this exactly what I wanted?

I have to find a way to talk to him, but the longer I stay silent, the harder it is to find the words as they get crowded out by the growing chaos of conflicting thoughts swirling around my head like an out-of-control Tilt-A-Whirl.

Next to me, I feel his shoulders slump, and I know I’ve let him down… again. “Right.” He says this as if my silence has told him everything he needs to know. “I can’t keep doing this with you, Atlas," he sighs, "I’m tired of the mixed signals. I wish you could just be honest with me. When you're ready to do that, let me know. But I’m not going to wait around much longer. I can’t.”

I reach for him as he gets up to leave, “Ash, wait.”

But he shrugs me off, “Nah,” and continues out the door.

Once he’s gone, I lie down on the bed wondering how the hell I’ve managed to fuck this up yet again.

Maybe it was stupid of me to think I could do things differently.

And, if that’s the case, maybe it’s time I let him go.

As this realization sinks in, I feel my heart start to break, slowly at first, small fissures splintering, then shattering all at once as I stare silently at the floor, my throat tightening as my body tries desperately to remember how to cry, to give some kind of cathartic release for the pain. But, just like me, it fails yet again.

Prev // Deja vu // Next

[sugar-crash]

🍬King Candy (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader👑

(Beginning Relationship Pt. II Edition!)

(Just a tad bit different🔑 than it usually is, Have fun :))

- Tries his best to separate him from who he used to be to ward off suspicion of his shady behavior but as we can all see, he’s not exactly the best at it at times. Especially if you knew him when he was Turbo. Johunlz

- His more friendly King Candy look gives him far more leeway than he had as Turbo which he wanted purposely. He uses it to his advantage, especially when it comes to you, literally that one scene from Adventure Time. Shameless about it on top of that. ohcl

- Much like how he was previously, he teases you. But it’s far more lighthearted I guess? Sometimes he just says something absolutely mean as shit and then pats your head patronizingly in the same breath. Hate him. illu

- Being some of the shortest game characters of the bunch, he’s no stranger to being looked down upon, literally, and by then he doesn’t have much of an issue with his s/o being taller than him…

- However, if by some miracle or chance, you’re smaller than him, he thinks you’re so cute, affectionately calling you “snack-sized”, and he’ll say it when he tries to get on your nerves for one reason or another. thkl,

- Lovessss putting others down, when it comes to you, it’s more lighthearted or joking (with that little metaphorical bug in his ear relishing being able to do so), and anyone else??? Not as much. pu

- Lives for the praise you give him, as much as he doesn’t admit it of course, that self-satisfied and smug grin he gets whenever you congratulate him for having majority wins/being chosen the most as an avatar on Sugar Rush says it all. tvyl

- While being the one to establish the paywall and coin prizes (cause he’s an insidious asshole), he kinda hates that he can’t have an actual trophy like he used to— Can’t exactly display them for you to comment on later on considering they are constantly being used and turned into code. But hey, at least they have his insignia on them. aohu

- Calling myself out on this once more, but, the description randomalistic used for him in this YouTube video (which,,, I highly suggest watching if you haven’t already), specifically “a corrupt politician” is frighteningly accurate, he lies, he cheats, he sabotages, a perfect allegory for a corrupt higher power. vul

- And he fucking knows it man, proud of it even, one of his most successful works and he can’t even brag about it, can’t even tell you. wshjl

- We really don’t see what his relationship is between him and the other racers besides Taffyta claiming he wants to keep them safe and uh… The race track scenes. So from what I can ascertain I can fully see him acting like Miss Hannigan from Annie, specifically this one scene (yeah this post is just chocked full of links, bear with me), the mental image of him mockingly saying “she had to go bathroom” with his lisp makes me weak.

- Even in his new and far more prestigious position as King he still longs for more, with his limits and disguises imperfections not helping this inner turmoil, even in a game as big as Sugar Rush boredom takes root and he even his excuses that explain why he stays in Sugar Rush to you have a nearly invisible air of uncertainty to them.

- Makes a point to make you feel good, loved, cared for all throughout your visits to Sugar Rush, nothing is too good for you, there’s always more.

- I think this kind of behavior stems from this deep seated desire to make sure you don’t leave him, you could have everything you want with his help— Why wouldn’t you stay? Please stay.

- Caged. That’s how he feels secretly, I mean, who wouldn’t? He wasn’t exactly coded to be a monarch, all these responsibilities, not even his coding skills could help him with that…. I mean, would he even be himself without it?

- Achievements, what are they for when it’s the same thing over and over again? Validation? Attention? Power?? You maybe? Things he’s been chasing after for all of his life, well— Not you but he’s realized that he’s become far too attached to you, your softness, your sensitivity.

- Each moment spent together is far more significant to him than what he thought it’d be when he first showed interest in you— Thinking it’d be like every other relationship (mostly platonic ones) he’s been in, fleeting, and ending with you hating him, you had every right to after all.

- Sickness, an insult that had been thrown his way over a dozen times to the point where it usually gets a scoff and furrowed brows, but it feels devastating when you say it after his true nature is unceremoniously revealed by his hubris.

- Abandoned— That familiar pang ripping through his newly mutated form as you struggle for your life alongside the others that stayed behind to help every last one of the Sugar Rush people to get to safety from the unruly swarm of Cy-Bugs eating their home into nothing.

- Red. That’s all he sees as he brutally beats Ralph down into a pulp and cruelly taunts everyone else as he holds the overgrown bad guy in the air, eagerly and sadistically waiting for a little girl to meet a brutal end only to meet his own.

(Almr sarqr dprk’s sll lk sar klqr)