#SUCKS MORE THAN I CAN PUT INTO WORDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[summertimesadnessirl]

I don't want to be stronger I want to not have to look at every goddamn experience as building character.

I want to be safe.

I don't want people to bring me their guilt and their loneliness and their stupid conceptual boxes that no living human being could fit into. I don't want them to huddle on my doorstep begging me to be their mother and their therapist and their lifecoach and their rescuer and their goddamn excuse to pretend to be a good person while doing shitty things.

I don't want anyone to interact with me unless they give me money and I don't want even those people to try to dump all their fucking negative emotions on me or suck me into their black pit of need.

OI want to be free.

I want to need no one one and for no one to need me.

I want people to see me as an inherently untrustworthy and unsafe person who will not fix everything and put things back together for them.

Because your reward for being vulnerable is being preyed on.

Your reward for being helpful is having more messes to clean.

Your reward for being comforting is that other people coat you in their misery and it's never enough.

Your reward for being caring and trustworthy and not shutting down someone's bullshit

And let's be real

Usually shallow to an insulting degree

Like shallow to the point where this person obviously thinks you are the dumbest most emotionally deprived person to ever live

Like shallow to the point that if all it took for someone to think they were that devoted to you was for you to not be actively a bitch to them for five minutes

Are you supposed to believe that?

Or does this person just hate you and want to punish you for being nice by lying to you?

It has to be that they are lying because they are normal and have everything going for them.

So you know that person thinks you are stupid and worthless and pathetic and unlovable and also gullible

Your reward for telling that person no but still letting them talk to you when they don't do that

Is just them refusing to stop trying to convince you that they love you.

Your reward for believing someone is in love with you when they might be is always total and complete loss of personal autonomy and them systematically destroying everything you love.

Your reward for not shutting this shit right down is that they think they can pull a face and say some words and make you feel bad and then you will take all the responsibility for them and do anything they want.

You become a parent or a child or a slave.

If I could surgically remove my ability to feel empathy I would.

That shit is only ever used against you.

Other people conveniently always feel really bad but never act in a way that helps you or pays you back or supports you.

It's just a way to prey on the weak.

No one ever sees you acting like you care about their displays of feelings as anything other than a sign that they don't have to act to help you or be kind to you because you are worthless.

honestly, the radicalizing event that made me ditch faux-ironic detachment is when I sent a hard-to-write sentimental message to someone I was (at the time) close with, and they sent the vomiting emoji back. it was like oh okay, that sucks. I am now of the opinion that it is 100x cooler and braver to be sappy with the people you care about.

[defmaybe]

Anatomy of a Farewell

12 Days of Christmas: Day 7, December 31st, 2024

fromis_9’s Park Jiwon x Male Reader

3.6k words

Christmas Masterlist

All good things must come to an end.

So is fromis_9 and your time with them, especially Jiwon.

“Cheers to us!” Saerom shouts, as she lifts her glass up for a toast. Everyone at the table joins in. It’s sad, really. It’s your last day to be officially together—the New Year’s Eve of 2024—and you can only hope that the wind of fate will somehow make your paths cross again.

So, what’s next?

You’ve been here for a few years already, from an intern to a boss. It has been a great experience for you, and now it’s coming to an end. Your future is uncertain again. Maybe Woollim? Maybe WakeOne? Maybe HYBE again? You aren’t so sure, and thinking about it only puts a burden on you.

You’re sitting on the outside of the bar, contemplating your life choices with a glass of beer in your hand. The December wind blows through the air, so—cold, dry, like every December before it.

“Hey.” A sound comes from your back. It’s Jiwon, a glass of beer in her hand. A faint smile is painted on her face.

“Hey,” you reply, taking a sip of your beer. It’s so quiet out here.

“You good?” she asks, sitting down beside you. Her right arm brushes slightly against yours.

“Well, you know, farewell sorrow and stuff,” you answer, chuckling softly at your predicament. You’ll have to find a new job after this, but for the last few years here, it has been worth it.

“Me too,” she says. It must be sad for her, suddenly saying goodbye to the women who’ve been with her for the last half decade or so.

You two let the silence linger in the air for a few more heartbeats, unsure of what to say next. You glance around you. There’s Jiwon. There’s a parking van, your company’s van, to be exact. There are trees. There's sadness building up inside you. There’s–

“I’ll miss them a lot, like, a fucking lot.”

You look at Jiwon again, your chin resting on your fist, trying to be her solace. It has been working so far.

“Yeah, it’s–hard,” you say. That’s the best sequence of words you could come up with, and it’s not bad, really. “You might still see them around, at least.”

Jiwon chuckles. “Yeah, I might.”

The concept of departure isn’t exactly new to you. You’ve had people leave you in the past before. It takes a few times to get used to it, really. But after that? It’s so much, much easier for you to accept your fate.

“So, what are you going to do next?” you ask, trying to continue the conversation. You want it to go on, at least you do. Despite how you’re so used to people’s departure, with Jiwon, it feels–different.

“Hmm.” She contemplates. You think she can easily have an acting career after this. You’ve seen her act before. She does it pretty well. Maybe she might star along Gyuri, one day.

“Modelling, maybe?” she says. That also works. Yeah, with a body like her, she definitely can do that.

“Seems sensible for you.”

She chuckles softly. “Thanks. What about you? Are you staying at HYBE?”

“Uh, I don’t know, really. I got the offer from a few places already, but I don’t know where I should go next,” you reply, shrugging. That WakeOne offer seems lucrative, could help your family.

“Where is it? Tell me!” she asks, smiling. She nudges you gently with her arm. But under this intoxication, you almost fall over. She’s stronger than she looks.

“Haiya!” you utter.

“Oh my god, sorry!” Jiwon holds you back in time. You’re not losing your balance yet.

“Well–” you pick yourself straight up again, brushing off the dust on your coat “–there’s Woollim, there’s WakeOne, and uh–there’s HYBE.”

Jiwon raises her eyebrows. “I can see someone like you working with Kep1er, though. HYBE sucks, like–look at us.”

You and Jiwon share a laugh in your predicaments. Yeah, HYBE sucks for you two—too few comebacks, too little promotions.

It has always been fun talking to Jiwon like this. You’d argue that Jiheon has been the closest to you, same age and all, but with Jiwon, it feels–different. It’s something you can’t quite describe.

The laughter then transitions into the silence lingers on for a few seconds more. The two of you don’t know what to say next. It happens sometimes. Still, with her, you feel safe, you feel happy.

“Maybe I should head back inside,” she finally says, smiling softly. “Wanna come?”

“Sure.”

—

The night rolls on. One beer, two beers, three beers. Every single one of you is getting more and more intoxicated, so are you and Jiwon. 

Your eyes keep making contact with each other. With each time, you swear that attraction starts to build up. You’ve felt nothing like this towards her. She has never been more than a co-worker to you.

Is there something going on?

You excuse yourself to the bathroom for the umpteenth time tonight, hoping to make the intoxication subside (it won’t subside). You open the bathroom door, wash your face, and set your hair. Then, as you look up from the sink, Jiwon appears in the mirror from behind you.

“Fuck, you’re scaring me, Jiwon,” you say, as Jiwon appears to be chuckling behind you.

“Sorry,” she replies. “Just wanna ask you something.”

“Oh, sure.”

Jiwon looks away from you, trying to form the right words. “So, I’d like to ask you–if I could stay at your place–tonight.”

Aren’t they supposed to have a driver? What is happening?

“Uh, I thought you guys had a driver?” you ask, puzzled, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Well, the problem is that–” she pauses, giving way to the silence as she moves closer to you, her breath is on your neck. Her right hand touches the small of your back softly, making you shudder “–except for Saerom, I can’t let anyone know I’m staying with you.”

“Oh.”

—

“Hmmph, you smell–hmm–so fucking good,” she says, peppering kisses on your neck. Her lips feel so soft. Her thighs are locking your body in your place. You can’t move, but you’re more than happy being under her restraints like this.

“It’s Yves Saint’s Libre.”

She retreats from peppering kisses on your neck with a puzzled expression. “Women’s perfume, really?”

You chuckle. “I mean–it smells good. You even said that!”

“Fair.” She shrugs dismissively before diving onto your neck again. Your body shudders in response from the pleasure and the low temperature of the room. Her hands wander around your body possessively, trying to claim you as hers (you’re already hers). She smells so good. It’s probably La Vie Est Belle, the same one your sister uses. There’s a bit of alcohol in her scent.

“Mmm, y–you also smell g–good, Jiwon,” you mutter, struggling to get the words out under this immense pleasure.

“Mmph, thanks! It’s–”

“La Vie Est Belle. Yeah, my sister uses it.”

Jiwon lets out a chuckle, clearly satisfied with your knowledge. She then pushes you onto the bed, making you land with a soft thud. It’s game time for her.

“Would you mind turning on the heater?” she asks, slightly shivering, as she dives onto your neck to plant the kisses.

“S–Sure.”

You reach for the remote on your nightstand, turning on the heater. Her lips remain busy, placing kisses on your neck. She starts to strip herself of the restrictive clothes, embracing the warmth from your heater. She unbuttons her coat (it’s a little too big for her, if you’d have to add), revealing the red blouse under. Her cleavage is showing off nicely by the collar. God, she looks so great.

“Can I?” you ask her for permission to touch her chest. She looks so damn tempting, and you just couldn’t resist it.

“Go ahead,” she allows, mouth still busy on your neck somehow.

You reach out to touch her small, firm breasts that are hanging in front of you. You figure that they’re soft to the touch. They just fit in your hand. She’s perfect, and you decide to give her breasts a squeeze.

“Hmm, just like that,” she whimpers, pulling back from your neck to allow you easier access to her confined tits. Her body arches back slightly. Her blouse lifts a little to show the small of her toned tummy. 

You give her breasts the treatment they deserve—grab, squeeze, knead. You’re making her moan in pure pleasure. She loves this.

“Mmm, fuckkk~” she groans. Her body vibrates under your touch. You’re revelling in the way she’s becoming undone like this. You’re revelling in the way her breasts feel in your hands. She’s so pliant, so yours.

“Baby,” Jiwon says, voice all airy from the bliss.

“Yes?” Your hands are still kneading her breasts softly

“I want–no–I need you inside me. Now.”

You giggle, quickly taking off your coat to make it equal. “No foreplay?”

“Me kissing your neck and you grabbing my tits are enough foreplay, baby,” she answers. Her voice is so light, so airy, so diluted. “I’m already fucking wet.”

You look into her eyes. They’re gleaming with unbridled desire. She wants this. She needs this. She needs you.

“Oh, s–sure,” you answer awkwardly before hastily unbuckling your belt. Your pants come off easily, and then there’s only your tight boxers left.

“Would you mind?” you ask, wanting her to be your guest in taking the last barrier off.

“Sure, why not?” she scoffs, before she grabs the edge of your underwear, teasing you, making you want more. She runs her thumbs along your waist, making you groan in the looming disappointment.

“God, thought you want me inside you,” you moan. She’s such a fucking cocktease.

“Just wanna hear you moan first” she replies, snaking her right hand under the piece of cloth. She brushes against your throbbing cock softly, making you moan to her wish.

“G–Goddd~” Your eyes flutter in ecstasy. Pleasure is coursing through you. It’s electric.

Jiwon giggles, before finally pulling your boxers down to your ankles, freeing your cock from its confinement. Your legs shiver from the still-cold air of the room. It hasn’t gotten much warmer yet.

“Already hard?” she playfully asks, softly flicking your shaft.

“Just for you.”

Jiwon lets out another laugh, clearly satisfied with your witty response. “Good answer.”

A smile escapes your lips, as Jiwon is still watching your cock with wonder. She really loves it, doesn’t she?

“So–” you reach out for her chin, tilting her face up slightly to meet your eyes. She looks nothing short of ethereal tonight under your dim room light. What a woman “–what are you going to do with me?”

Jiwon smiles. “Wait a second, dumbass. Can’t I just admire him for a bit?” Her eyes go back to watching your cock intently.

“Not after you promised me a ride, Jiwon,” you reply. You have needs too, and it’s currently not being sated.

“I’m not good with promise,” she says, giggling, and you can’t help but smile at her response. She then gets up into a sitting position again, tying her hair into a bun. Holy fuck, she looks so hot with that hair. 

“Please,” you utter. You really want this. You really want her.

“Please what, baby?” she playfully asks, drawing a line on your shirt. You’re quivering under her touch.

“J–Just fuck me already, Jiwon,” you answer shakenly. You’re in dire need of her pussy now.

Jiwon smiles before unbuttoning her jeans and sliding it down, revealing her drenched panties underneath. She looks so tantalizing.

“Fuck, this is cold,” she says, crossing her arms.

“Want me to be on top?”

“But you’ll get cold!” she says, concerned about your wellbeing. What a kind woman.

“I have to be a good host.”

“And I have to be a good guest!” she replies sternly. She’s so adamant about this, isn’t she?

“Get down here then, Jiwon,” you say, gesturing to her to lie on your bed. She reluctantly complies, hesitating, still worrying if you’d feel cold.

But you already have other plans.

You carefully have her lying down on your bed next to you, on her side. You take off her wet panties, slowly, rewarding you with a light, small moan and the view of her wet pussy. You then lift her leg to rest on your thighs. It’s for easy access to her cunt.

“You really are a good host,” she says, a smile forms on her gorgeous face.

“Thanks.”

You line up your needy cock with her puffy cunt, ready to fuck her properly. You look into her eyes, and there’s nothing but desire. No anxiety. No apprehension. No second thoughts. She’s ready.

“Fuck me.”

With that, you thrust your hips into her wanton pussy. Her body shrieks in pleasure and a slight tinge of pain. Your cock is stretching her out wide. She feels great, so tight, so right. Her inner walls are grazing your cock, making you moan in unbridled joy.

“Goddd~” you moan. You’re feeling so ecstatic with her pussy wrapping around you. Then, there’s the clapping of your thighs. There’s her airy moans. There’s her gleeful expression. You love this. You love the way you make her moan. You love the way you’re feeling right now.

“You feel so good, baby. So big, so thick,” Jiwon groans, eyes closed with the boiling pleasure. Her hands hug around you ever so tightly, not wanting to lose you into the cold of the night. 

“Ha–th–thanks, Jiwon,” you reply, stuttering. You just cannot handle the feeling that’s coursing through you right now.

Jiwon’s expression is nothing short of pure bliss—the closed eyes, the smile, the slightly arched eyebrows. She’s enjoying this. She’s enjoying your cock inside her.

You continue to slowly slide in and out of her needy pussy, enamored in the feeling of her walls hugging around your cock. Electricity shoots through your body. It feels great. She feels great—the warmth, the smell, the sound. She’s perfect.

You finally catch the tempo of fucking her folds, so you start to quicken your pace by a little. Her moans become shorter and shorter. She’s losing herself around your cock.

Jiwon bites her lip, finally opens her eyes. She looks up at you with pure lust in her pupils, and you swear that this is the most beautiful she has ever looked—in your tight embrace, on your bed, biting her own soft lip.

“Mmm, fucking love this cock,” she utters without any shame, leaning in to plant a soft peck on your forehead. Warmth emanates from the spot. It feels good.

“Love your pussy too, baby,” you say, making her laugh in your embrace. 

She then leans in slightly closer, staring into your eyes. Is she going to–

“I–I–” Jiwon stutters. Her train of thoughts are derailed under the pleasure you’re giving her. You feel too good.

“What is it?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You let the question hang in the air for a few seconds, drawing the tension, dragging the answer, making her restless.

“I’m already inside you, so–make that what you will,” you reply to her with a soft chuckle. Your hips are rocking into her pussy gently, trying not to hurt her.

Jiwon laughs. “No, I mean–fucking just doesn’t have enough emotions as kissing!”

“Kissing is just tongue though,” you deflect, protecting your point. She does have a point, at least, just not as strong as yours.

“Look at doggy,” she brings up her point. “You don’t have to look at each other, making it less intimate, a lot less.”

That makes sense. She just won her debate against you.

“Well, it seems that you’ve won, Miss Park.” You giggle, nibbling her chin softly. “Guess you can kiss me on the lips.”

Jiwon’s face lights up with a smile, before latching her lips on yours. The kiss is fervent. The kiss is passionate. She invades your mouth aggressively, a contradiction to the slow love making below your belts. Her grip on your face is tight. She doesn’t want to let you go.

Her lips taste like beer. It still lingers inside her mouth as you pierce her mouth with your tongue. You suppose yours probably taste the same. The kiss still feels electric, indeed. Jiwon lets out soft moans and whimpers into the kiss. God, what a feeling.

Her right hand then travels below your belt, smacking your plump ass. Your body jolts in response to the violent hit. She lets out a giggle.

Finally, she pulls back from the kiss. Your hips are still rocking down below, pounding her cunt with softness. Her face is all flushed, so enamored in the kiss.

“That felt great,” she says, a smile painting on her ethereal face.

“Me too, baby,”

Jiwon chuckles at the pet name, before starting to moan again. Her mouth is agape. Her eyes are barely open.

“Y–You’re so big, baby,” she utters.

“I–I’d argue that it’s p–pretty average, Jiwon.”

She shoots you a warm smile. “Don’t downplay yourself! Be proud of your size, alright?” Jiwon encourages you, and you can’t help but laugh at her words.

“O–Okay, Jiwon.”

You up your tempo into another ante. It has become a hammering session now. The sounds of smacking flesh echoes through your room. Sweat starts to form on both of your foreheads. Jiwon’s eyes are fluttering. She’s enjoying this.

“F–Fuckkk~” Jiwon moans, airy, diluted. Your hands wander down to her caged pert breasts, feeling them bounce in your hand. Jiwon lets out stuttered whimpers at your touch. She still feels so soft, so perfect in your hands.

“S–So good, baby,” she whimpers. She’s loving this.

“Glad I can be of help, babe,” you reply, eliciting a shaken laugh out of her lips.

The feeling around your cock is nothing short of ecstatic. Your moans are full of unpacked joy. Your cock fits into her pussy so perfectly. Her tight walls are trying to coax that white, viscous nectar out of your slit.

Her grips on your face grow tighter. Her moans become more frantic. Her breathing becomes ragged. Her muscles tense. She’s going to cum.

“Nghhh~ gonna cum, baby,” Jiwon moans, as you pound her pussy with reckless abandon.

You realized that your grips on her face also become tighter and tighter as seconds go by. Your motion becomes more and more erratic down there. You’re chasing your own orgasm. You’re going to cum.

“M–Me too, babe,” you utter, so lost in the boiling pleasure.

Jiwon then pulls you into another fiery kiss. Her lips still taste like beer, but you swear that it’s like an aphrodisiac to you. Her tongue finds its way into your mouth dextrously, sweeping the insides of your mouth. Her right hand gives your ass another slap, making your whole body shudder in response. Your hands wander towards her small, firm chest, giving them a light squeeze. She moans as a reply to your touch.

Her breathing becomes faster and faster. You figure that she’s going to cum, and so are you. The all-too-familiar feeling is building up inside your loins. You’re going to cum inside her.

“G–Gonna cum,” Jiwon utters into the kiss. Her tongue fights yours for dominance.

“Can I–Can I cum inside you?” you ask, slightly hoping for a yes.

“I–I’m on the p–pill, go ahead, baby,” she answers, and that’s a go for you to ram into her cunt with reckless abandon. The sound of your fleshes smacking rings through the room. The room reeks of sex in this December air.

You pull back from the sensual kiss to watch her flushed face. She’s moaning. Her eyes are barely opening, fluttering in ecstasy. She loves this. She loves having your cock pounding her pussy like this.

“Th–Thanks for e–everything,” you say. Your orgasm draws near.

“M–Me too, baby.”

She’s the first to let go. Gushes of torrent are discharged out of her pussy onto you, dripping onto your bed. Her walls contract around your cock. She cries out in pure bliss. Good thing that these walls are thick.

You follow suit. Your cock shoots spurts of cum into her wanton cavern, painting her insides white. Your hips buck harshly into her. You take a deep breath as you cum. Fuck, what a feeling.

Jiwon pulls you into another kiss, invading your mouth with adeptness. Her right hand presses onto your ass, wanting you to bury your cock inside her. She moans and moans into the kiss. The sound of the wet smooches and your moans ring inside your ears.

Inevitably, your orgasms die down. Violent shots of cum turn into drizzles out of your slit. Your sheets are all wet from her nectar. Both of you are panting—tired.

The two of you lie down on the bed on your sides—exhausted, spent, satisfied. Your bodies are all flushed with red. You’re watching her glowing in the post-debauchery bliss. She looks so good. You can’t let this go. You just can’t.

“Wanna do this again?” It’s one of the best sex you’ve ever had, and you can’t just let it slip past your hands so easily.

“Well–” she tucks her hair behind her ear, looking at you as she chuckles “–definitely, maybe.”

“What do you mean, ‘Definitely, maybe’?”

Jiwon laughs, covering her mouth. “Just a movie reference, don’t worry,” she says, patting your shoulder. She looks so gorgeous like this.

“We’re definitely fucking again, no maybes.”

—

[mrsh4rdy]

be rude. husband! nanami x chubby fem! reader.

warning: NSFW (MDNI), rude, dom, dirty names, beg, creampie, sperm, breeding, eat pussy?, suck nipple, slap, fingering, spanking, one mention of y/n, think its all.

words: 2132.

Nanami loves you more than anything, there is no doubt about it. His gaze, so tender and filled with love every time he rests on you. His hands, which rest on you with a sweet possessiveness when there are people around. His lips which stretch into an irresistible smile every time your own smile lights up his face.

His way of kissing you is filled with kindness and sweetness, so much so that you melt every time. He is so protective and attentive in your intimate moments, almost like a guardian angel. But deep down, you wished that he would turn into a wild and merciless demon.

"Ken..", you get on top of him seeking his attention as he reads his book on the couch. "What babe?", he puts his book down and looks at you to understand what you want.

"I need you.", you whisper sensually in his ear and start to rub yourself against him in need. "Y/n.", he moans lightly and starts to kiss your exposed chest in your small tank top.

"Wait. I want you to be rough with me. Really. Please.", he lifts his head and looks at you surprised. "Seriously? You don’t like how I-", you immediately cut him off.

"No no! Not at all fair that I want you to be mean to me but if you don't like it I won't force you baby. I love how you fuck me never doubt it.", gives him a soft smile to reassure him. He believes you and doesn't doubt it remembering how you moan under him every time.

"I understand. Do you want me to be rough with you?", he takes your chin forcing you to look him in the eyes and his voice becomes mean, deeper than usual and almost cruel. "Yes ken-… please.", your trembling answer betrays your excitement in his voice.

His hand slowly slides over your waist before closing on one of your love wrists. He pinches you hard but not too much so as not to hurt you. The slight pain and pleasure, tears a moan from you.

He places his hands under your thighs and often lifts you from his thighs to carry you to the bedroom. "I know how quickly my girl makes a mess wherever she goes. I don't want you to dirty this expensive couch with your fluids.", you can only nod.

He puts you down abruptly but without hurting you on your big marital bed. He undresses you with his eyes. You can see his big cock growing through his simple jogging pants that he wears when he is at home. You like it when he wears them.

"Take off your clothes.", you comply and slowly remove your clothes under his excited gaze to provoke him. "Hurry up. You're becoming such a bad girl, honey.. I'm disappointed in you." (Obviously he doesn't think so) He looks at you mean and disappointed and goes to get something in his closet then comes back with a tie.

He moves closer to you and pins you against the bed. His hands search for your wrists to tie you up. He ties your wrists behind your back with his tie. Once done he removes your shorts and your soaked white panties and throws them into the room.

"Fuck baby you so wet at the thought of me being rough with you? I never knew you were such a slut.", his words only turn you on more. Every dirty word he says to you makes you wet.

Your needy throbbing pussy looks warm from the room and his intense gaze as he looks down at your soaking wet folds. All he wants is to eat you out and make you cum countless times on his tongue. His dick rises even higher at the thought.

He puts his hand on your waist and repositions you correctly and makes you spread your legs so that he can get between them. He looks at your big and thick thighs stained with stretch marks that make you even more beautiful according to him even if you don't like them. 

He lays on his stomach and puts his hands on your thighs. He looks at your hot and wet pussy. Nanami can only think about how he would eat your pussy and make you cum as many times as you want because you deserve it.

Her little angel with perfect curves.

He remembers that he had to be rough with you. He gives a little slap to test on your clitoris swollen barely touched. You moan with pleasure and surprise. You didn't expect it but that doesn't stop you from begging for more. - 779w

"M- more ken.. please.", he looks up at you and smiles. "My little slut girl wants more? You think you deserve more?", you really think you do. You're still his wife. "Y- yes."

He chuckles and spits on your wet, throbbing folds for him. "Beg if you mean it," then you start begging him like he wanted. He bites the inside of your thighs as he listens to your wonderful pleas in his ears.

"Hum good girl.", he hits your clit again a little harder without abusing not wanting to hurt you. Your little pussy gets even wetter. "Ken… so go- good.", you let out a muffled cry and your voice slowly breaks.

He slaps your clit harder. You moan louder, your voice breaking into a cry of pleasure. "Ah, slut... you like this, don't you?", he whispers, his eyes shining with desire. He licks your soaking wet pussy and abuses you wanting to drink you in.

He starts eating you out, he loves your juices so much, he might get addicted. He moves his thumb over your clit, making you arch your back in pleasure. "Do you want my fingers baby?" he asks, his voice low and sexy. "Yes...please," I beg, my voice breathy. He smiles, his eyes glistening with desire.

He straightens up and directs those fingers in front of your mouth. "Open up," you comply and open wide and take those big thick fingers into your mouth. You suck them and coat them with drool. The wet noises from your mouth only excite him. He wants to fuck your hot little mouth with his big dick but that will be for later.

He pulls his soaking wet fingers out and starts teasing your entrance with his middle finger. "I'm starting to doubt... I don't think you deserve those thick fingers in your slutty pussy.", he looks at you and sees your frustrated expression, it makes him smile. "Please Ken... I deserve them.", you had tears in your eyes and were begging him.

“Hmm…” he thrusts a finger into you suddenly, taking your breath away. You moan from the sudden intrusion and pleasure. He gives you time to breathe then starts moving his finger and pushing it deeper into you.

"Your fucking pussy is swallowing me. She's so greedy like you aren't she?", he chuckles inwardly and looks at your hardened and abandoned nipples. He slides his hand to one of your sensitive nipples and pinches it. It was a painful but so pleasurable.

He watches your reactions and sees that you like it so he starts again. He puts his mouth on the other nipple even more sensitive and runs his tongue over it. At the same time, he adds another finger inside you and starts going back and forth deep inside you and spreading your spongy and tight walls.

He continues then decides to lightly bite your nipple and suck it and with your other free hand, he pinches you and plays with your nipple. You feel simulated everywhere and the vision of Nanami sucking your breast makes you moan even more. "Ken! Ken-.. I'm go- going to cum!..", small tears threaten to fall.

He removes his fingers from your pussy, his hand from your breast and his mouth from your breast coated with his drool. "Shit..", he straightens up and looks at your defeated expression and your light trembling body. He gives one last slap on your wet folds.

"I'm gonna breed that tight little pussy wet and needy with my cum.. that's what you want slut isn't it?", you can only nod. Your pussy is throbbing with anticipation, you want him to breed you.

"You're such a slut baby I didn't know you were like that.", he slowly undresses letting you admire his perfectly sculpted Greek God physique and his veins that only enhance it. How lucky you were to have such a handsome and sexy husband.

His big veiny dick is finally free from the tissues, throbbing and the precum leaking from his red tip made you want to get your face fucked but what you want now is his fucking cock inside you.

Your arms are starting to hurt and get tired but you can handle it. "Your arms hurt? Do you want me to untie you baby?", his voice was softer like he usually does when he's worried. "I can handle it.. just breed me Ken. I want your sperm inside me and filled with you.", when you talk to him like that he can't resist.

"Fuck you're gonna kill me.", he whispers low and turns you over onto your stomach. "Place yourself. Get comfortable.", replacing you properly so that you're comfortable and your ass is proudly displayed in front of your husband's cock that needs attention.

He stands behind you and takes your ass in hand and kneads it. He loves your ass fucking. He rubs his cock between the two cheeks of your buttocks and decides to spank you. You moan with happiness, he hasn't fucked you yet but you thought you saw the stars.

He rubs the tip of his dick over your swollen clit. He slaps you several more times. He watches your skin turn red from the slaps. He strokes your ass then enters your tight, soaking wet pussy. He almost never needed lube because you were so wet every time.

He gives you time to adjust to his size. The number of times you had him was uncountable but you never managed to adjust to his size quickly. After a while he started to move. You moan, my eyes closing in pleasure.

He keeps moving, his hip thrusts rhythmically getting harder and deeper. "I'm gonna fuck this little pussy.. I wanna fill you with my cum. You're my own little cum cave aren't you?", he moans low and keeps a flawless but incredibly good rhythm that makes you roll your eyes.

"Y- yes.. yes daddy I'm your cum cave..", you moan and without realizing it you called him daddy. His cock grows even more inside you. "Fucking girl. Do you want daddy to make you a mama?", his hand slides into your hair and pulls it back. Your head comes off the pillow and you nod, tears streaming down your face.

He continues to fuck you in a hard rhythm. Your tight, warm spongy walls are squeezing him. Your pussy was the dream, he's convinced you were made for him. He pulls your arms towards him making sure your back is against his chest and his other hand takes your jaw and kisses you.

He moves his hand to slide lower to your swollen clit and starts rubbing small circles on it. He places small kisses on your shoulder and bites it. He licks the bite and kisses it. He's so wild now. You like it so much.

Minutes later, back in the initial position, his rhythm becomes more messy but deeper. He was going to cum soon. You were going to cum soon too. You feel your walls and eyes flutter. "Daddy.. I'm gonna soon-…", he cuts you off and slaps your sensitive clit.

"You want to cum before daddy? Aren't you ashamed, dirty girl. You're becoming a bad girl.", you whine, you don't want to be a bad girl. You want to be good for him. "Sorry daddy I didn't want to. I want to be good..", you feel his hand on your breast and pinch your nipple.

"Good girl. Take my cum in that tight little hot pussy of mine.", he whispers in your ear and thrusts deep and hard. Drool runs down your chin, you moan, scream, cry. Shit, you’re an absolute but delicious mess to Nanami.

A few moments later you feel Nanami's cock throbbing then Nanami's hot ropes in your pussy which now belongs to him. You cum at the same time, letting yourself see the stars. He goes back and forth a few times then withdraws his soft dick soaked with your juices. His cum drips from your little hole and onto your trembling thighs. Fuck.

He never told you, but he's been wanting to fuck you like this for a while.

any opinion is appreciated! thanks for reading till the end 💗

sub to me for more fanfic !

requests: OPEN.

other fanfic NSFW (salaryman! Nanami x fem! black reader.)

© 2024 mrsh4rdy. All work belongs to @mrsh4rdy. Do NOT repost, modify, translate or plagiarize in any way on ANY platforms.

[tfwbluu]

Can you please do what are sunghoon's kinks? Like the one you did for Riki.

KINKS

PAIRING — sunghoon + f!reader

WARNINGS — dom!hoon, switch!hoon (would u hate me if i said pegging.), one good boy, some light degradation, vampire!hoon which means blood sucking, we’re talking about kinks again so that’s that.

WORDCOUNT — 0.9K

NOTE — my first sunghoon work guys .. finally someone other than riki ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) rik’s still number one in my heart tho. unintentionally made hoon’s a bit longer and more detailed than rik’s ver. but yeahhh~ anyway have fun hoonists i hope this is up to ur standards <3

Biting. It’s not just a habit; it’s a craving for him. He LOVES sinking his teeth into your skin, marking you up until you’re covered in red, sore impressions of his affection. To him, it’s the perfect way to claim you, a visible reminder of his possessiveness.

“Let me mark you up, darling. I need to show the world what’s mine,” he’d murmur, his voice low and laced with desire. His lips alternated between soft, teasing kisses and sharp bites against your neck, leaving your skin tingling. Meanwhile, his hands roamed your body, possessively tracing every curve, every dip, as if trying to leave his mark there too.

If we’re talking about vampire!Hoon? Oh, he’d love biting you, savoring every drop of your blood as it feeds his insatiable hunger. You know how in some vampire lore, their bites have aphrodisiac properties to dull the pain? Yeah, he’d use that to his advantage—biting down just enough to make your head spin, all while sliding his cock or fingers into you to distract you from the sting and amplify your pleasure.

“You taste so sweet, love,” he’d hum, his fangs sinking deeper into your neck, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Feels so good, yeah? Wanna cum on my cock?” he’d tease, moving faster, his tongue tracing over the fresh wound to lap up your sweet blood.

Praising him! Oh, he’d crave it—no, need it. Hoon wouldn’t let you get away with being shy, either. He’d pull the words from your lips, making sure you knew exactly how good he’s making you feel.

“Am I fucking you good, love? I’ve been a good boy for you, hmm?” he’d murmur, his tone calm but his thrusts unrelenting. “My cock makes you feel so good, yeah? It’s all yours, baby—all of me is yours.”

“Fuck, say that again, baby. You like it when I fuck you like this, yeah?” he growled, his movements becoming more deliberate, more intense. That single praise from you sent a rush straight to his core, fueling his desire. He was relentless now, his eyes locked on yours, desperate to hear you say more, to let him know exactly how good he was making you feel. “C’mon, angel, tell me. I need to hear it.”

He loves when you wear lingerie. Whether it’s a skimpy dress, a lace set, or something simple yet sultry, he can’t get enough of seeing you all dressed up just for him. And maroon red? Oh, that’s his favorite. He wouldn’t tear it apart or rush through it, oh no, he’s the type to take his time, savoring every detail, worshipping both you and the effort you put into looking so irresistible.

“All for me? What a treat,” he murmured, his fingers tugging gently at the loose lace, his eyes drinking in every inch of your body as if it were a masterpiece.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, my love,” he whispered, his voice thick with reverence as his hand moved to rest against your clothed cunt. His thumb pressed lightly, teasing you through the thin fabric, making you squirm under his intense gaze. “All mine to adore.”

He’s definitely into bondage, the type to use his own ties just to bind you. He doesn’t need anything elaborate; the sight of you tied up in his oversized dress shirt, spread open and vulnerable, is more than enough to send his head spinning. He thrives on the control, the power of holding onto your bound hands while he takes you apart.

“Only good girls get to touch, my love,” he teased, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction as he secured your hands above your head with his tie.

When he pushed into you, a deep groan escaped his lips. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight…” His hands tightened around your bound wrists, holding you firmly in place as he began to move. The sound of skin meeting skin, your breathless moans, and the way your chest bounced with each thrust made his head foggy.

“You look so fucking perfect like this,” he muttered, biting his lip as his gaze raked over your body, savoring the way you surrendered yourself to him completely.

When he’s jealous or needs to let out some frustration, he knows exactly how to channel it—raw and rough, his words dripping with degrading dominance. He doesn’t hold back, each thrust filled with unspoken emotion, each word hitting as hard as his hips do.

“Just fucking take it,” he growled, his thrusts relentless, the lewd squelching filling the room. “Slutty little cunt, gripping my cock so perfectly, huh?”

“Tired already? Should’ve thought of that before whoring yourself out in that tiny outfit. You wanted to be a slut so bad—now take it.”

He’s open to switching roles every now and then, and, dare I say, he’d be curious about being pegged. Sometimes, he just wants to be taken care of, to let go and let you take the reins. Tease him just a little, and he’ll get so whiny, sensitive, and completely at your mercy ♡

“F-fuck… baby…” he whined, gripping the sheets tightly as you thrust into him. “Hngh—please, more…” His voice cracked, trembling as your hands stroked his cock in rhythm. “Please… don’t stop…”

[iwannaleavemymind]

Shibari Sukuna.

That’s it that’s the prompt if your a minor and not into kinky shit do not interact.

Trueform Sukuna! X fem!reader

Also proofread idk how to write this mf with two dicks, soooo bear with me please😭

The tight ropes of the Shibari tied around your wrists dig almost uncomfortably into your skin- although lord Sukuna would never allow his beautiful queen nothing but the finest material for the ropes now would he?

The silky fabric of your slip dress is a stark contrast to the precarious position you’re in, with your legs and wrists tied together suspended in thin air, keeping you up and looking around the room.

Well- a better way to put it trying to look around the room, kinda hard to keep any focus with the pink haired man currently overstimulating you with his tongue(s).

“Hah f-fuuuck s’too much kuna!” Desperate please and cries for him to slow down spill past your lips, all but being acknowledged. Mocking your little pants and whimpers by teasing you with his mean mouth.

“Cmon little mouse I thought you wanted this?” He says right before delving nose deep back into your soaked core, his tongue flicking up and down your now-overly sensitive clit, his fingers finding a steadfast pace inside your cunt. Teasing you over and over, making your cum once but keeping you on the edge- just how he likes it.

Loves it when you whine and moan his name, legs shaking around his face, your shaky thighs nearly crushing him, but he had another set of arms for that more than welcome problem of his.

Two of his arms reach up to meet your soft plush thighs, spreading them apart further than they already were- “trynna kill me with those thighs of yours heh? Gonna try harder than that baby.”

The stimulation proves too much for your body to handle, eventually begging him to let you cum again.

“Please kuna please-!” Chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, your pussy clenching around his fingers, making a shit eating grin spread across his lips.

“Huh? What’s that baby your close hm?”

“Y-yes please let me cum! Kuna’ please I need to so bad!” Your words are slurred with desperation and need, begging for a release.

His arms tighten around your thighs, holding you in place while he eats you out, his cocks rock hard from your sweet little lips, begging and moaning and just feeling you around his fingers drives him mad.

He gives you what you want, his fingers curling inside you hitting your g spot eliciting a high pitched moan from you, “y’like that messy girl? Cmon use your words.”

Not even a words slips past your lips when you open them to beg for a release again when you feel him smirk against your throbbing clit, moving his fingers in tandem with his mean tongue flicking it around your sensitive bud, sucking and spitting on the sensitive bundle of nerves; at this point it’s not much before you cum alllll over his fingers your juices spilling down his lips down onto his neck, admiring your fucked out expression.

He can feel his cocks are already painfully hard, pre cum dribbling from the pretty bulbous slit on the top of his pretty tip, how will your poor pussy even handle him?!

(He’ll make it fit don’t worry 😉)

He lets you come down from your high, whispering sweet nothings in your ears whilst tightening your restraints, cooing and praising you on how good you did.

Not long before he’s untying his own pants letting them fall to the floor before fisting his cock, his pretty tip covered in pre cum all ready for just you. He holds your thighs in place, slowly pushing one of his cocks in, letting you adjust to the sheer size of him.

“Biiiiig stretch, yer doin’ so good for me baby jus like that.” Low pants and half lidded eyes are the give away that he’s almost pussy drunk just halfway in, your slippery, warm walls coating his dick in a sheen of slick.

His pace gradually picks up, filling you up to the brim, with two of his arms holding you in place, fucking you back onto his cock making high pitched whines and moans come from your pretty lips.

“Didn’t know she was so excited to see me hm?” He teases you, sitting that spot deep inside you making your eyes roll back, the curve of his dick hitting your g spot perfectly, measured with his hard thrusts it makes it easy for you to become undone beneath him.

“Yeah baby, j-just like that ohhh fuuuck.” He moans in your ear, using one of his arms to pull your hair back, keeping you in place. low moans and pants come from the strong man above you, his praise causing your pussy to spasm all over his cock, “y’like that little mouse? Such a dirty girl.”

Your moans and pleas spur him on even more, quickening his thrusts with the room filled with the sound of your soaked pussy cumming again and again all over him and his hips meeting yours over and over again in a mean fashion.

“Good girl, so reactive and needy jus’ how I like it.” His thrusts punctuate each word, tears streaking down your cheeks with the overwhelming pleasure.

“Kuna! F-fuck ohmygod I’m s’close!” You cry out, feeling close to him pushing you over the edge again

He fucks you rough and mean, his thrusts becoming sloppy and desperate, knowing he’s close too, but he’ll make you cum, ladies first isn’t it?

“Hah- such a good girl givin’ me exactly what I want hm? Fuckin you like I hate ya huh?”

“P-please feels s’fuckin good” you mewl, eyes rolling back and mouth falling open in an O shape, squirting all over his dick, soaking his sculpted abdomen, and surprising you at the same time.

“Ah found it.” He smirks down at you, you can’t see him but you can just feel the shit eating smirk on his face.

He fucks you at an inhuman pace, your sloppy cunt sucking him in juuuuust right, so perfect for him. It’s not long after he follows suit, buried to the hilt in your snug cunt, letting his release coat your insides and his seed spill out of you.

“didn’t know you could do that girl, let’s try both hm? See if I can make that pretty pussy squirt all over me again Kay?”

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 5

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5])

question for you: it that only a reflection from set lights, or did agatha have tears in her eyes?

because, well, this is agatha. she's putting on a show, so you know that she's not as confident as she wants to appear. I imagine that suddenly turning into a ghost is not an easy adjustment. super interesting from a nerdy scholary prospective, but psychologically?? idk

billy, as usual, has to beg her to PLEASE BE SERIOUS FR

I toOK A calCULateD RiSK

whatever you say you big loser

then she demonstrates being a ghost by trying to slap billy. it's scientific and not ridiculous at all

at long last, and very, very late in the game she explains the nature of the Road to billy - and notice how she's still not able to be completely honest, despite all the previous moments they shared. the song means the world to her, but she's not ready to admit that yet.

the Road was very very very much real, and all the deaths that happened do count

I'll die on the hill that billy is a good person at heart. the tower, the potential for tragedy and destruction, is just that, a potential that the people in his life - the kaplans, eddie, the coven and yes, even agatha - are helping keep unfulfilled.

agatha shakes her head, gently, carefully. and we can see there has been some growth here: the first time billy supposedly killed someone she went on a whole speech about how Killing Makes You a Survivor Actually, a speech that was more about her than him. she's at least considering his feelings now

and btw agatha's "death" not being final like the others' doesn't cheapen the message at all. these are shows about dealing with / accepting mortality, and that is a journey agatha has just started. she (somehow, crying and screaming and flying by the seat of her pants) cheated death and will get herself a new body, and that's just one step forward and two steps back on her way to learn to finally stop running.

remember when nicky was upset about killing witches and agatha avoided the subject by singing a song to him, because she didn't know how to relieve a child of the guilt that was hers and only hers? she is trying now. she sees how this is devastating billy and she (badly) tries to absolve him. she is the one who lured the coven into a trap, who didn't disclose the nature of the Road, who very much killed alice.

and mark my words: she knows who sharon is, she absolutely remembers her name. I think she feels the most guilty about killing sharon, because with alice it was kind of an accident, but she went out of her way to doom this poor little lady, and she's been distancing herself from her with callous jokes since the beginning.

look at her face. this is Empathy. I've talked a lot about how for agatha it's easier to feel empathy for people with similar stories and backgrounds to hers. she felt it for wanda and ran from it. billy has the added quality of being perfect son material (I'll get to that in a minute) and right now? she knows what he's going through. she was once a girl born with the power to kill people, a power she didn't know how to stop, and it ruined her life and doomed everyone who crossed her path.

and she's still trying to have her cake and eat it too! consoling billy while still keeping her "whatever I don't care anyway" fake vibes. I'd say that she's matured a little, sure! from toddler to at least first grader. she even dares to roll her eyes when mentioning jen, this actual piece of ghostly turd.

please please please let jen come back in a marvel property that doesn't suck / hopefully written by jac and her team. please please please let us see what she does next

"should I go check on how agatha and billy are doing? nope screw them bye bye losers omw to rebuild my empire!" *nyoooooom*

(I don't know what I'd like to see more, jen becoming a force for good right away or still on the road to recovery, clashing heads with agatha.)

agatha takes a deep breath (can ghosts actually breathe tho) and gives billy a speech reminiscent of what she told nicky all those years ago. if you want to survive, get used to this feeling. we are supposed to read this interaction with the added context of her relationship with her own son (hence the callback). so why does agatha gives billy the nicky treatment now?

I think billy is all that agatha hoped and wanted nicky to be - a partner in crime who can keep up with her intelligence and sense of humor, a powerful witch she can pass her knowledge to, and a son who will love her and stick by her side no matter what. billy is the whole package, from the very beginning she couldn't see him as just the carrier of the very power she needed to bring nicky back; another hunger took over, the hunger to claim him and raise him as her own.

which brings us to the crucial question: why does agatha want a son? why did she have nicky in the first place? the answer, in true agatha fashion, is selfish, flawed, tragic, human. she wanted to fix her own childhood. she wanted to raise a version of herself who had all the love and support of a mother. and so she made sure that nicky had what she never had, including books and lessons to learn magic from. she tried to make him immune to life's heartbreaks - get used to this feeling, like she never could (because she never managed to make her own heart impervious, she only hid it away and tried to ignore it.) she essentially imagined her child as a a mini-me who committed all the same atrocities with no guilt or remorse and the added bonus of a mother cheerleading them on. another cheat sheet, a way to fix herself without actually working on her issues.

except nicky wasn't exactly what she had expected. he didn't like killing witches. instead of a talent for magic, he showed a talent for music and, credit where credit's due, agatha encouraged and nurtured it. when nicky died, agatha was on her way to accept that he was his own wonferful person and that being a parent is an exercise in selflessness. despite all her mistakes, she did one fundamental thing right: she loved nicky so freaking much, and was genuinely loved in return. who knows what could have happened if they were allowed to continue on that path.

billy is also very much his own person (not to mention almost and adult) so he simply won't let agatha project her issues all over him. (agatha is like, "challenge accepted.")

her love for billy is not in question, but now she has to be selfless and admit he doesn't exactly need mentoring in serial killing. what did billy need from the Road after all? it wasn't power. it was a sense of identity, a community, help in finding himself and his brother. agatha knows this perfectly, she's just *gestures in her general direction* like that.

I'm leaving this here for now and I'm gonna start my final entry right away, who knows, maybe I can even finish it tonight.

[lunajay33]

Suppose to be You Part.2

•🖤🍑🏹🧟‍♀️•

Summary: You’re Shane’s girlfriend but when the apocalypse hits you find him changing and find yourself leaning more towards the only person who gives you the time of day, also you’re Rick’s younger sister

Pairing: Shane x f!reader, Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warning: Shane’s a cheater obvi, harsh words, Merle

Part.1

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since I moved into a tent at Daryl’s small camp site, he’d usually keep me company when he was hunting and just in case Shane came around, but when he had to go hunting I always got so nervous, Shane wasn’t the same anymore and without Daryl around I don’t know what he’ll try to pull with me

Daryl left me with one of his hunting knives this morning before he left hoping for a deer, some of the others had already left for a scavenging trip into the city so only a few of us were left to deal with the camps duties, I decided to head down to the quarry and clean some of mine and Daryl’s clothes, even though he groaned about it not being a big deal I know he needs these sleeveless shirts clean

Peacefully I got to work when I heard the rocks behind me crunch under heavy footsteps

“Now a pretty lil lady like you shouldn’t be out here all alone” I turned around quickly recognizing the voice is that sick man, Ed

“Do you need something Ed” I spat out with malice

“Just here for the show” I sighed with disgust as I gathered mine and Daryl’s clean clothes and threw them in a basket, hoping to avoid a scene and head back to the camp, I try to walk past him when he grabs my arm

I’m really sick of men thinking they can just grab me, shook out of his grip and pushed him back

“You think you’re better than me bitch” he yelled before smacking me hard across the cheek

I fall to the ground holding my sore cheek, breaking my fall on the basket

“You better watch yourself” he flicked his cigarette to the ground and walked off

How safe was this camp really? I feel like I’d be safer out alone against the walkers than the men here, atleast I know what I’m getting with the walkers

I try to get myself together again, I suck in a deep breath as I feel the burning in my face, I pick up the basket and head back up to the camp with my head hung low, even though no one saw I’m completely embarrassed, did I have a sign hanging over me or something that put a target on me?

I quickly went back to my tent and stayed in there for the rest of the day, folding the laundry and reading a book I had packed, just praying Daryl was making it back early today

The sun was getting lower in the sky when I hear a car siren broke me out of my thoughts, I left my tent seeing a red sports car pull up and everyone is freaking out

“The hell is going on around here?” I hear from beside me, that southern accent that always made me feel safe, I turn throwing my arms around him

“Oh thank god you’re back”

“Did somethin happen?” He asks his brows furrowed as he pulls me back to check me over, his eyes landing on the blooming bruise that’s forming on the left side of my face

“Who did this to ya?” He growls gentle tracing his thumb over my cheek

I don’t know what it was about him but I felt so safe and vulnerable with him, feeling my bottom lip tremble I look down before he leads me to look back up at him, his eyes asking me again

“It was…..” I was cut of when everyone was making a ruckus again

“Come on out helicopter boy” I took Daryl’s hand and ran over to see the commotion

My heart stops seeing who I never thought I’d see again, I drop Daryl hand and run as fast as my feet can take me crashing into Rick, my brother, his arms tight around me as we both cry

“How is this possible, Shane said you were dead” that bastard lied

“I found you” he sighed before Carl came running over screaming for his dead, I stepped aside letting them have their moment, looking over at Shane seeing him in shook, just seeing him makes my blood boil, I stomp my way over pushing his chest

“YOU LIED, WHY DID YOU LIE TO ME” I scream seeing the shook fade into that rage he’s had lately

“This ain’t the time” he groaned as I felt two arms wrap around me and lead me away from the group

“He lied” I whisper as we sit down on the logs around our camp fire

“Ya wait here, relax a bit, this is a lot ta take in, even though Shane’s an ass”

•

After everything settled and the group that came back from the city started talking it caught our attention

“Wait a damn minute where the hell is Merle” Daryl groaned as he started looking around, with me not far behind

“Your brother was a danger to us all, we had to do what he had to do” Rick stepped up always trying to take the blame

“He alive?” I can hear the emotion in his voice

“I locked the door to the roof, no walkers should get through it” t dog said

“Just tell me where he is, I’m gonna get him my self”

“Wait you can’t go by yourself Daryl” I stop him with a hand to his chest

“Rick will go won’t you Rick” Lori glared, she really drives me insane, acting like Rick trying to help would be a crime as if she isn’t hooking up with her husbands best friend

“Yes I will, we’ll get a group I won’t let a man die” they all started getting ready to go back to the city, Daryl at our tents getting together his cross bow and arrows

“Daryl please don’t leave me again, I’m not safe here alone, maybe I can come with you” he stops in his tracks and looks at me with this expression that was torn between staying and going

“I ain’t risking ya out there, I’ll come back ta ya”

I step closer

“But what if Ed or Shane come after me again”

“So it was Ed……listen I’ll deal with them when I come back, maybe stay with ol grandpa in the trailer…..I’ll come back ta ya peach, I promise” I take a deep breath nodding knowing he wouldn’t lie to me

“Please be safe” he nodded before he left to the van, starting to get everyone to go, I like how he was a redneck hot head with everyone else but how he was so gentle with me

The little group including my brother I just got back we’re gone driving off down the dirt road

I sit next to some of the other ladies that were gathering around a fire that just got started, just needing girl talk or something to get my mind off of everything, Ed hitting me, Shane just being Shane, and now my brother is back and my feelings for Daryl are growing everyday, it’s just a lot

“Honey what happened to your face looks like you fell and landed right on a rock” Jackie asks as she hands me a bottle of water

“Oh umm…it’s nothing just ran into a tree” the lie bothered me, why am I lying, it’s definitely not to protect that son of a bitch Ed

“Was it that Dixon, they’ve been nothing but trouble since day one” Lori intervened with a scowl

“NO…….daryl would never touch me, do you know how screwed you’d all be for food if he wasn’t always out hunting for this group that only sees him as a low life?” Nobody spoke after that until the others still left around the group came and circled the fire as the sun dissapeared under the horizon, Shane came and sat down next to Lori as usual and I just couldn’t handle it so I got up and left back to my own camp site and lighting my own fire

It was a nice distraction just to watch the fire and just not to think about anything that’s been going on, I can’t think about the two men that are important to me right now are out there risking their lives

As I hear the distant chatter of the group I hear a blood curdling scream followed by another until all I can hear anymore is panic and mayhem

I run back over seeing people down being ripped apart by walkers, others sticking close together, and the few left trying to protect to group, I go to grab my knife when a weight is pushed down on me and I know by the snapping of the jaws it’s a walker, I manage to turn quickly and try and hold it back, it’s rotting flesh invading my senses, my hand slips and it tackles me to the ground, I can’t help but cry out and beg for someone to help me

It’s jaws mere inches from me, so close to biting my skin until it goes limp and I see an arrow through its head before it’s pulled and thrown away from me, Daryl standing over me like a knight in shining armour, he leans down and pulls me up into his comforting arms, holding me close

“I told ya I’d come back” he whispered as he held my waist tighter

“Please don’t leave me again” I cried into his shoulder

“I ain’t going no where peach, seein ya like that…..I never wanna see again”

•

Do you guys want a part 3?

[ineedpaigebuckets]

Make one where paige tries to teach azzi how to play fortnite

teach me

warnings: smut!!

an: how the fuck is this still short. TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK. i'm sorry for the disappointment this was not as good as i wished.

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

paige and azzi were just hanging out, like normal. just a friday night after practice, paige was playing fortnite while azzi was laying in bed finishing up her book. once she was finished she walked over to her girlfriend and plopped herself right on her thigh.

"wanna teach me how to play?" she asks with a small grin and her big eyes. paige obviously couldn't resist. who could resist azzi fudd?

"course baby." she leans her head into azzis neck kissing her softly as she hands the controller to her, hands slipping around her girlfriends waist pulling her as close into her chest as possible.

"kay so first you see this button, this is how you shoot your weapon" azzi just nods and listens to every single word that comes out of paige's mouth.

paige pov

azzi quickly that she was indeed awful.

"i'm done with this shit." she pouts which brings a laugh out of me as i grab her controller back. she just stays cuddled up in my lap while i keeps playing. i don't miss the fact that she couldn't take her eyes off of my hands. she let her fingers trace the veins of my hands, i let out a shaky breath at her touch. i knew she loved my hands. and it made me crazy every time.

"paigey?" she turns around and the second i see her eyes i have to close my own blinking slowly. that fucking look. she knew what she wanted and she knew just how to get it. not this time though. i wasn't gonna let her.

"yes az." my eyes move back to the screen and i see the small smirk on her face. we were never gonna pass up a challenge.

"look really good right now." i don't meet her eyes because i know if i do i'd be a mess in a second. but the second i feel her lips on my neck i know it's gonna be harder than i thought. i let a soft sound leave my lips. which of course gets her ass going. she slips off my lap and is fucking on her knees in front of me. my chest rises and falls more dramatically than usual. i feel her cocky smirk without even moving i shift my hips towards her giving her the go ahead. her hands brush against my thighs as she slips her fingers under the waistband of my shorts.

"az, wait won't you?" i grit out of my teeth, but of course, my princess gets what she wants. i shift my hips up so she can slide both my shorts and boxers off my thighs. before i can speak she's pulling the back of my knees towards her so i'm at the edge of the seat. she can see how bad i want her just from how fucking soaked i am.

"baby, turn off the game." she whispers, her voice soft against my dripping core. her tongue flattens on me before i can say anything and i suck in a breath bucking my hips towards her.

"fuckin princess." i groan taking off my headphones and throwing them on the floor along with my controller. my hands reach for the arm rests of the chair as her tongue dips into me. she was always so good. knew exactly what i liked. my head leans back as my breath speeds up. i never lasted very long with her, but she got me right every time.

"y'okay p, doing so good." she mumbles into me

lapping up at me softly moving her head side to side.

"az-" i m practically squirming as her teeth graze across my clit. she gives me those big eyes. she knows what she's doing to me.

"c'mon paige. s'okay." i'm practically melting down the chair at this point. her eyes making my breathing eratic. i grab her hair instead of the chair as i gush onto her face. she lets me take a second to regain myself as she puts her elbows in my legs just looking up at me like i'm the only girl in the world.

"you're so pretty azzi." i whisper leaning down to press a kiss to her head. she grins and passes me my pants as i stand up slipping them back on.

"you want me to-" before i can even finish my sentence she's pushing me back on the bed and i'm laying down under her as she curls into my chest.

"mm we got time for that tomorrow." i laugh and run my hands through her hair. my beautiful girl.

[fawninthesnow]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞: Part 4

𐙚 Emperor Geta x Fem Reader! 𐙚 18+

Summary: You are the daughter of General Marcus Acacius. Upon your fathers disappearance, you search for answers as to why you and your mother are being held in the palace.

Warnings/contains: dom fem, f4m, teasing, pinning, size kink, idealization, obsession, captivity, tension, not proof read

Word Count: 2.1k

More on my Master list! + follow & like pls

The general proceeded forward towards the emperor. “We have managed to break up the riots within the city. However,”

“Well, out with it!” The emperor spat and threw off the sheet from his hips.

“Ahem, I would like your permission to use force for the riots outside the city.” He said, looking away from the man as he put his robe back on.

“What kind of question is that?! Of course! And every man that throws a single stone or unsheathes his sword should be put in chains and taken to the prison! They want to act like animals?! They can kill themselves in the colosseum.” General Acacius did not bother arguing back and forth with the man. “Round them up.”

From your place in the closet, upon hearing your father’s conversation with the emperor, you groaned with confusion and annoyance. You did not want to hear about people being put in chains, of course not. You wanted to fuck the emperor. You wanted him beneath you; the two of you withering with pleasure. You wanted to enjoy the fruits of your own labor, in more ways than one. You moved between racks of clothes and found the servants door for deliveries. You quietly left the closet and ended up in the back halls of the palace. After a few minutes of walking, you found your suite that you now share with your mother.

She was sound asleep and on her side. You slipped into bed on your side and stared at the few candles still aflame.

After he dismissed your father, the emperor rushed to the closet where you once hid. “[Y/n]? [Y/n]?” He sucked his teeth with annoyance and hit his fist on the doorway. “Gone again.”

The next morning, you, your mother, and the two emperors ate in awkward silence. Your mother ate slowly and kept her eyes on the hands around her. You finished half of your food before gazing around the room; the heavy weight of Emperor Geta’s gaze on your skin.

“Where is my father?”

Geta sighed at the sound of your voice; his full attention was already on you but now he got the turn to speak to you. “The General is doing his job of protecting the Roman people.” You already knew of what your father was doing but he should be back by now. It is near noon, nothing involving a few protesters should last this long. “He is doing the right thing.”

You squinted upon hearing that, “How do you mean?

“Your father is keeping the peace in Rome.” He said as if it were obvious and sipped from a cup.

“Wonderful news. I am sure he will be back soon.” Your mother interjected. “I am sure we will be able to return home.”

“Yes, of course. No longer a need to keep an eye on you two.” Emperor Caracalla laughed, “We know you both are innocent.”

Later that day, you searched the palace to find the emperor. He did the same for you and went into the guest chambers. He wondered into the empty room and looked through your open trunk of clothes. His fingertips ran over the fabrics of the clothes, lingering over the handmade details. He could care less for the clothes themselves but the thought of you wearing these most days out of the year made him feel things he could not put into words. The man gripped the fabric in his fingers and brought it to his nose. Your signature perfume coated the pieces of work. Piece by piece, garment by garment, he raised to his nose; he took deep inhales. His greed consumed him, and he took a pair of your undergarments into his robes.

You pushed open the door to the bedroom, “What are you doing?”

He threw the dresses down, “L- looking for you.” He said as he turned around to the sound of your voice.

“Good. I was looking for you. My father has not returned, and I want you to send someone for him. This is not like him.”

“Right, Acacius.” He broke eye contact with you and moved towards the door.

“Yes. My father. What is confusing?” You asked.

“Nothing.”

“Well, go!” You pointed to the chamber doors.

He stood rather idly, “You…you do not tell me what to do. You or your father.” The emperor spoke softer before clearing his throat. “You and your father do not dictate my decisions.”

“What are you talking about?” You stepped closer to him; that same crossed expression that reminded him so much of your father.

“You are to stay in this room.”

You laughed at the man, pushing past him. “You are speaking nonsense.”

“Guards!” He yelled into the hall. Two men made their way into your chambers. "Make sure she does not leave. One outside, one inside. Her and her father...are working for the rebellion against the throne.” He said almost unsure of himself.

“Rot in hell.” You raised your hand to his face. Before you could slap him, a guard held your arms still; he created a wall between you two. “The worst excuse for an emperor.” He swallowed the saliva that pooled in his mouth whenever you spoke to him-- whether you were being kind (which was rare) or cruel.

 “She is mad. Do not let her take advantage of you.” He went against his urges and left the room. You hissed at him and tossed a candle holder after him.

“Geta! Geta, come back here! Oh, let go of me!” You hit the emperors guard in his Adam’s apple. “Do not touch me again!” He held onto his neck as he protected the doors. “Talk about disloyal! You know who made you the soldier you are today.” You walked around the room and opened your mother’s luggage.

“W- what are you doing over there?”

“Oh, shut up. You are not going to stop me.” You drew your mother’s sheathed sword from her trunk. “Where is my mother being kept, idiot?” You slipped the leather waistband over your hips and placed the scaffold inside.

“I do not know. M- my emperor says you cannot leave.”

“Then, I will kill you.” You palm settled on the wrapped grip of the blade. You stood at matching height with the solider in front of you. Your eyes were glossy with ambition and anger. The veins in your hands flexed as you waited. Your curves, those eyes, were something dangerous. “Move.” You said softly. Without a fight, the guard pushed the doors open for you. His head bowed in shame.

“He will kill me.” He whispered to himself.

Outside, you snuck behind the other guard and grabbed him by the throat, your other hand pulled his ear. “Shut up.” You pushed on the front of his throat before he soon collapsed onto your body. “Ew.” A slight push and he fell onto the ground.

Through the halls, you snuck into a few rooms before finding the emperor’s lounge. You pushed the door softly and peered inside. Your mother sat alone; her nervous expression alone pissed you off. How could that piece of shit do this? Where is your father? Is he even alive?

After a few more moments, you entered the lounge, “[Y/n]?! What are you doing here?”

“You need to leave.”

“Geta?” You nodded and helped her stand. “I can leave on my own. Do not go home. Find your father and we will meet later.”

**

You followed quickly behind him and managed to cuff his wrists before pushing him up against the black marble wall. “Where is my father?!” You slapped the man across the face.

Geta weakly groaned, “Your father? He must be busy.”

“You lied to me!” You hissed, holding your blade to his throat. “You are a liar! My father is innocent! *You* are evil. Tell me where he is!”

He squirmed as you held him in place, “I am not evil! I am what Rome needs! Your father is a traitor of Rome! He committed treason!” He spat so righteously; you could have punched him. “Sparing the lives of rioters?! Sparing those who betray my rule is an act of treason! If I had it my way, I would kill him now!” He yelled.

“Treason?! He saved lives! Yet still! He did as you said! The riots have stopped, no? My father is loyal to you and the people! He is the only person to care about the well-being of others in this city!” You yelled back, pushing him harder against the wall. “Where is he?!”

“H- he is being held accountable behind bars.”

“Jail?” You cut the man’s cheek, blood left his face and the wound aches. He screamed in your grip. “It’s small, stop squirming!” You leaned into his ear, “You will lead me to him and pardon him…or so help me god, I will have your head.”

Geta trembled, looking away from you. “I agree…”

“If you attempt to pull anything slick…” You whispered into his ear. He groaned at the thought of your threat. You sheathed your sword and pushed him towards a side entrance. “Put on your hood.” He grumbled and threw on the hood before holstering himself onto a horse. You removed the chains from his wrists before you climbed on behind him; with a quickness, you head towards the colosseum.

“S- slow down, please!” You ignored the man in front of you, his hands gripped the mane of the mare. She galloped quickly, and into the arena.

The foul smells of the jails wafted onto your face as you went deeper underground with the emperor. “Acacius.” He said to a jail guard and you both were led to the cell with no light.

You snatched the torch from the guard’s hands before raising it to the cell. Your father lay on the cot filled with unprocessed hay. “Unlock it!” You yelled, and the guard quickly opened the cell. You kneeled by your father’s side, “Father?” He was breathing, he was conscious. However, his unforgiving gaze was on the emperor. The general stood and grabbed the man by his collar, pushing him against the wall.

“A- Acacius!”

For half a second, you blinked, and the sword from the hip of a guard was in your father’s clutch. “You have got balls.” Acacius said, “The people of Rome will not miss you.”

“You cannot kill me! I am the-“

“We do not give a shit.” You groaned, your hand on your hip as you cornered the man. The emperor looked at his own feet, a lost yet defeated expression on his face. “Did you really think I would let you do this to me? My family? You little shit!”

“[Y/n], that is enough.” You father said.

“I am still the man I was when you were on top of me.” The man interrupted.

You struck him across the face, “Shut the hell up!”

“What are you talking about?” Your father looked between you and the emperor.

“Father! I- I did not have sex with the likes of *him*!”

“You nearly did!” Geta looked to your father for a reaction. “More than once, you-!”

The General slammed the man against the wall again, “I do not give a fuck who my daughter sleeps with! Do you understand the gravity of your actions tonight, Geta? Where is your mother?” He turned his attention to you.

“She said something about you knowing.”

The emperor gulped, catching your father’s attention. “What? Are you out of ideas? Someone should put you down. You are like a rabid dog.”

“I am sure the people of Rome will not care if you disappear for a few months,”

“W- what? What are you saying?!”

“Rehabilitation.”

“Prison.” You and your father spoke over each other, “But Father!”

“He is unwell and unfit to rule until he gets help. His brother would never accept the terms of him in jail. I will speak to the Senate tonight.” You groaned, pacing the hallway of the jail.

**

Only a few hours passed before power to the throne was given to Caracalla with your father at his side. As Senate members left the chamber, you sat on the stairs that led to the entrance of the palace. “Did you make that mess in the hall?” The general sat beside you. “The man.” You nodded. “You never listen.”

You stood off the stone steps, “Dad.”

“Geta? Really?”

“He has a very nice body. And he is rather pretty at night.” Acacius groaned, shooing you from near him. The two of you watched as the man was led into a chariot in chains around his ankles. His gaze remained on you, “He looks…”

“I love you.” Your neck recoiled at the words that came from his mouth. The emperor waved to you, “[Y/n]? Will you visit me?”

“You are delusional.”

He shook his head and smiled, “Just once?” You rolled your eyes and walked towards your horse, “Well, I will be thinking about you.” He said as the horses began to pull him and his guards.

“Forget my name, Geta.”

“I could never!”

More on my Master list! + follow & like pls

[qoldenskies]

Yeah people pleaser Leo takes me out of fics so fast. Way faster than unbothered Donnie Or a Leo that crumbles under trauma if I'm honest

I've seen a lot of fics where his internal dialogue is so dependant heavy? And anxious about everything

That Leo would never tease Raph about his "chasm." The mere idea would make him want to vomit

Maybe they should try writing for mutant mayhem instead? Now there's an anxious, people pleasing Leo

"he would not say that" is one thing and its usually leveraged wrong. you can stomp on characters in all sorts of ways to Make Them Say That. i struggle with judging over the much deeper "he would not have that stress response" AND IN LEO'S CASE I DONT LIKE IT WHEN PEOPLE MAKE HIM FAWN LOL its pretty much the thing he does the LEAST, sucking up to people to manipulate them or going "ermmmmm why are you angry? lol" are both things that are not fawn responses at all LMFAO

actually that argument with raph in the movie is pretty much the BEST example of leo going to fight mode when he's upset about something. brushing it off and riling up raph INTENTIONALLY to derail the situation, he likes to go the long way around to make raph look unreasonable sometimes lmao. he likes to poke at them to embarrass them in order to express his disapproval, and he ESPECIALLY does it to those he's directly already antagonistic with. hell, he can even open his big mouth around the kraang in the middle of a dire situation lmao

donnie is so focused on attaining the approval of others, he is a BILLION times more likely to fawn and suck up when he feels threatened, as well as harbor a lot of anxiety about how others perceive him. leo wants to be liked, and he doesn't want to be alone, of course, but he turns a lot of inward. its about the persona he puts up, and when he's upset he'll crack down on it and put those walls up higher, usually via. lashing out in that exact way

it's literally the "im just a little guy im just a little birthday boy" response, but i think if you fucked him up enough you could make him more surprisingly focused cornered animal tbhhh and i think that's a ton more interesting interpretation of his issues. they cant psychological warefare him the same way he does them and it shows

tdlr in my opinion its like. he would not turn to desperate people pleasing when he feels his sense of self shaken or destroyed, he would double down and shut people out and potentially even refuse to accept help instead

hell, it took EVERYTHING with the kraang and all of the near death experiences in order to get him to actually reflect on himself and change in the movie. leo DOES CARE. very much, and a big reason he was so upset with raph and reacted like that is because raph used the lives of their little brothers as a point of argument, and implied he was apathetic to something like that. he HATES being seen that way!! so him actually facing how this behavior IS bad and seeing how much danger its gotten them into (especially with CJ's words in mind) is the thing that really makes him re-evaluate himself and grow.

leo pretends to have a fawn response but its very apparent that its just masquerading a deeply-rooted fight response. donnie pretends to have a fight response but its very apparent he's just masquerading a deeply-rooted fawn response. you understand.

[lyraa-kill]

Here’s a little ghost x gaz fic I wrote at midnight lol. TW for mcd(soap) and grief

If you’d like to read this on ao3 instead, here’s the link!

Johnny’s death devastated the whole team, but it killed Simon and Kyle the most. They were his lover and best friend, after all. There’s a Johnny sized hole in their universe now, and neither of them know how to deal with the grief, the immense loss they never prepared themselves to one day have to deal with.

It takes a few weeks before either of them come off of auto pilot, stop going through the motions of their day and of missions without feeling like theyre robots being controlled by an automated system. When they do, they end up bumping into each other more, taking more notice of the other. Noticing the same emotions in the other as the ones they’re feeling. The same tired, sunken eyes and lifeless skin, the same horrible posture and fidgets when things just get too quiet.

It’s late at night, Kyle’s grabbing a late night drink when Simon waltzes into the common area kitchen as well. He stands there and stares for a minute before he moves past Kyle and gets to the fridge. He tries not to think of the similar nights he had with Johnny like this, tries not to think of the time he picked him up and put him on the counter and kissed him like he never would again. God, he wishes he had kissed him just one more time.

“Can’t sleep either?” Kyle asks, his voice light and a little gruff. He hasn’t been speaking much the last few weeks, so his vocal cords are out of tune.

“Nope. Usual, though,” Simon responds, grabbing a jug of apple juice and pouring it into a cup.

Neither he nor Kyle comment on the fact Johnny was the one that had bought this jug, had loved this specific brand of apple juice probably more than he loved Simon. But they both notice it. They always notice the little things Johnny’s left behind that they hadn’t before.

“Don’t I know it,” Kyle jokes, breathing out a small chuckle.

Simon laughs a little too, joining Kyle in standing with his back against the counter top, glass loosely held in his hand at hip level.

There’s a lot of unspoken words between them. They don’t know what to say, don’t know if they should bring up how much shit sucks and what they’re feeling or pretend like everything is okay. But they both have an innate knowing that the other person is just as lost as they are, that their world is a little darker now. That nothing makes as much sense as it did before. Seriously, how can they be living and Johnny just be gone? Gone? It seems about as ridiculous as the sky being green and the grass being blue.

“You holding up alright?” Simon asks, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

Kyle swallows the rock in his throat. Takes another sip of his glass of water. Finally, he manages to answer, “Best as I can, sir.”

Simon rolls his eyes. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your lieutenant right now.”

“Hm? What are you then?”

Simon sighs and rubs his eyes. “A friend, I hope.”

They sit in silence again, until Simon notices that Kyle is crying. He’s silent, but tears are still rolling down his cheeks. His throat is bobbing with unreleased sobs. His left hand is gripping the counter top so hard his fingers are losing color.

Simon immediately sets his glass down, striding over to Kyle and wrapping his arms around him. He was fine to deal with his grief alone, had already done it for everyone else that had mattered to him, but he didn’t want Kyle to suffer by himself. Someone as good as him didn’t deserve that.

Instantly, Kyle melts into the hug and all the sobs and wails he had been holding back are coming out. He grips onto Simon’s t-shirt like he’s going to go away too, like he’ll lose another person he cares for. Simon keeps his grip steady. Letting Kyle cry into him for as long as he needs. He sheds a few tears as well, but not that many. He’s more of a suffer in peace kind of man.

“Fuck- s-sorry, I-“ Kyle stammers, wiping away his tears while Simon continues to hold him.

“I know,” Simon says, “You don’t need to apologize.”

“This just really fucking sucks, you know?” Kyle laughs while releasing a few more sobs.

Simon answers with sorrow, “Yeah. It really fucking blows.”

They stand there in silence while Kyle tries to compose himself and fails, and Simon awkwardly keeps holding him because he doesn’t know how to help someone through the loss of their best friend when that person was also your boyfriend and almost fiancé.

“I miss him too,” Simon mutters, “Captain does too, I’m sure. You’re not by yourself.”

“I-i know, I know. But it’s different. To cap, he was another soldier, really. Sure he cared for him, but he wasn’t his friend. He- he didn’t- he wasn’t close with him like I was. And you, fuck- you loved him. Like, really loved him. And I kinda didn’t. It’s probably so much worse for you and-“

“Don’t say that,” Simon interrupts, “You love him too. Maybe different than I do, but you do.”

“I know. Fuck- I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Kyle.” Simon says before he ends the hug and stands there in front of him, one hand on his shoulder.

In his mind, Simon imagines Johnny watching them. Not as a ghost, but more as just… energy? A presence? He doesn’t know how to describe it. But it seems like he can feel Johnny, so close and yet so far away, like he’s right there but he just can’t reach out for him. How would Johnny feel, watching his boyfriend and best friend cry together and be so consumed by the pain of losing him?

Then he remembers that Johnny can’t feel anything, that he’s dead and gone, and there’s nothing left of him in the world anymore. Just some ash in a fucking lake and a near expired carton of juice.

He starts to cry too, and now it’s Kyle’s turn to pull him into a hug and comfort him.

They stand there, holding each other as their cries fill the other wise silent room. Neither of them had thought that crying it out with someone would feel so nice, so freeing. Like the grief wasn’t all consuming and could be dealt with. It felt like through their shared feelings, Johnny was alive in some way. Is a person dead once they’re no longer here, or when people stop caring that they’re no longer here?

After that night, when either of them are feeling too overwhelmed, feeling the inky darkness of loss wrapping around their heart, they seek out the other. It doesn’t matter what’s happening or what they’re doing. They’ll make the time. Whether it’s Kyle dragging Simon out of office hours where he’s doing paperwork to be held and cry or Simon finding Kyle at the gun range and bawling into his t-shirt, they’re there for each other. Price too, when he opens up about how much he misses Johnny. But it’s different with him. He didn’t care for Johnny as much as they did.

Eventually, Simon and Kyle hang out together when they’re not crying and spiraling into a hole, becoming friends in their own right outside of their loss. They’ll sit in the common area and watch a movie together, side by side on the couch and sharing a blanket and popcorn. It felt weird to laugh at first, but they got used to it. Smiles no longer felt like betrayal after a while, it just felt like the warmth of friendship.

It continues into them eventually being able to talk about Johnny. Share their memories. Laugh about that crazy, damn near feral Scot and all the fun they used to have together. Kyle recounts the time they snuck off base in the middle of the night to get drunk in some field. Simon tells how Johnny one time stole all his t shirts because Simon refused to tell him what his birthday present was going to be.

They share what they missed about him. Simon wishes he could’ve yelled at him about leaving his hair all over the sink when he shaved one more time. Kyle misses hearing explosions go off when they were out in the field and knowing Johnny was having the time of his life. Simon misses waking up and seeing the golden rays of sun dance across his skin so perfectly, like a painting. Kyle wishes he could’ve played one more game of cards with him over lunch.

One day, Simon starts to feel strange. He notices when he’s trying to fall asleep that he hadn’t thought of Johnny at all that day. Not once. Most days he’s consumed with thinking about him. Wait, it wasn’t just that day. It was the day before too. Wait, what?

He sits and thinks. What was he even doing? Everything reminds him of Johnny, because it’s like he can see his ghost all around base. Everywhere he looks is somewhere he had once stood. What was he thinking of instead?

Then, he realizes. Kyle. His mind had been consumed by Kyle instead. He was thinking of how he looked the night prior when they were watching a movie in the dark living room and the blue highlights from the film looked beautiful contrasted next to his dark skin. Thought of running to the store to grab him more of that ice cream he likes. Thought of seeing him later and being excited for it.

His blood runs ice cold. He remembers when he was falling in love with Johnny and he felt the same way. Couldn’t get him out of his head, couldn’t stop recounting every second they had spent together. Just like he was doing with Kyle.

That- no. He can’t. He can’t love Kyle. He loves Johnny. Loved, whatever. Johnny is his boyfriend. Was. Fuck.

He rolls around and buries his face in a pillow. He thinks of Kyle’s face, and he thinks of Johnny’s Side by side. Which would he pick?

He ponders it before he gets angry. He can’t pick, because Johnny’s dead. He has one option and a bunch of discarded ash.

He briefly thinks of kissing Kyle the way he did Johnny, and cringes before he bolts up right and starts to breathe like he’s losing air. Not because the thought disgusts him, but because it excites him. The same way he was excited when he thought of kissing Johnny for the first time.

No no no- no. He can’t do this. He can’t betray Johnny, especially with his best fucking friend. What sort of despicable cheating fucking monster is he to do that to him? He can’t. This is ridiculous. He can’t love Kyle. He can’t do that to Johnny.

He does the only thing he knows how to do in this situation. He ignores Kyle. Moves past him in the mess when they would normally sit together. Says he’s not feeling well when Kyle offers to watch another movie or play a dumb card game with him. Flat out ignores him when he offers to go down to the range and practice shooting.

He thought it would be easy, thought that if he refocused his mind back on Johnny he could forget all about Kyle, forget about the bubbling feeling in his heart when he sees him from across the room, how pretty his full lips and walnut eyes are. How beautiful his muscled arms look slightly bulging from the sleeves of his shirt. His well his pants fit over the whole of his legs. How his voice sounds like bells and lemonade on a summer day back home.

It goes on for weeks. Simon can tell Kyle is upset, frustrated, and confused. But he just can’t betray Johnny like that. He needs time to be away from Kyle so he can forget about those ridiculous feelings. Try and remember how Johnny’s voice sounds and how his body felt wrapped up in his, before he forgets for good. He would forget it all if he got with Kyle. And he doesn’t want to forget Johnny. He wants to keep him nestled safe in his heart forever, lock it down and declare it his and only his. But there’s a crack in the chains he’s binding, his heart too full to be contained to what he wants to limit it to. And it’s hurting him.

It all comes to a head when he gets back to the barracks of the 141, the common area unlit until he switches on the light to take his shoes off and he notices Kyle sitting with his arms crossed and a sour expression on his face on the couch.

Simon begins to take his boots off, going to pretend Kyle isn’t even there, until the man gets up and strides over to him, kicking his shin to make him look up at him.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Kyle asks.

“Busy.” Simon answers.

“Don’t lie to me.” Kyle’s words are full of venom and pure rage. He’s fucking furious at having been ignored.

“‘M not lying.” Simon mutters, kicking off his shoes with his boot and trying to brush past Kyle.

Kyle grabs his arm and pulls him back with force Simon didn’t know he had.

“You’re not going to ignore me anymore, Simon. Tell me what’s going on.”

Simon looks at Kyle, really looks at him. Notices the way his eyes are dark with rage, the dark bags beneath that are the worst he’s ever seen them. Notices the way he’s biting the inside of his lip, probably to keep himself grounded because of how intense his emotions are. The way his fist keeps clenching and unclenching, how he’s standing on the tops of his feet rather than the whole.

And fuck, he really can’t deny that he loves it all anymore. Really can’t deny that everything about Kyle draws him in and makes his heart want more and more, to take all it can possibly get. And it’s so strange, because Kyle is nothing like Johnny. He doesn’t tease as much. He’s not as crazy or wild. Doesn’t laugh as much, doesn’t compliment him as much. Isn’t so sure and defensive of all his opinions, doesn’t insult. Doesn’t laugh when he jams a knife into an enemies neck and blood goes flying everywhere. What does he see in Kyle that he wants so goddamn badly?

“I can’t,” Simon mutters, his voice cracking as his eyes drop to the floor. Tears start to form, but he tries to hold them back.

Kyle looks at him for a few moments. “Simon?” He asks, not angry anymore, “Please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t.” Simon says again, his voice filled with the tears he’s refusing to let come out of his eyes.

“Why not?”

“You’re going to hate me. I hate me.”

“I won’t hate you,” Kyle says, gripping Simon’s arms and tugging him closer. “Just- please. Tell me. So I can fix it. I- I don’t- I don’t want to lose you too.”

Simon’s heart breaks. It never occurred to him that he was all Kyle really had. Johnny was his only friend and Simon a strange “more than acquaintance but not really friend but also a friend”, so after he was gone and he and Simon started to become closer, that was all he had left. These last few weeks he’s been completely alone with no idea of what the reason why could be. Simon is such a piece of fucking shit for doing that to someone he claims to love, apparently more than he did Johnny.

He starts to cry, fat tears falling down as his lips release bawls and sobs. He’s never cried like this before, not since he was a small child. Not even the first night he spent alone without Johnny. He’s always stayed silent and cried on the inside. Let his heart do it instead.

Kyle grabs him into a hug, wrapping one arm around his waist and the other holding his head into his neck. It’s awkward, since Simon is so much taller, but they make it work. Eventually Simon wraps his arms around Kyle’s waist and holds him as close as he can, almost lifting him up off the ground.

Kyle holds him while he cries, whispering that it’s okay and that everything is fine. That he’s not angry anymore, he just wants to talk. That whatever it is, he won’t hate him for it.

“I’m sorry, Kyle,” Simon chokes out, “I shouldn’t have ignored you. I- I just- I didn’t know what to do.”

Kyle soothingly rubs the top of his back, over his muscled shoulder blade. “It’s alright. I forgive you.”

Simon pulls away a little bit and looks Kyle in his eyes. They’re beautiful, but not in the same way that Johnny’s were. Kyle’s are soft, calm, like a gentle breeze in a forest that carries the scent of the wood and the leaves. Johnny’s were bright, loud, like a raging, unforgiving ocean. Strong.

“I don’t know how to say this- but- i-“ Simon stammers. How can he even go about admitting this? With Johnny it was easy. All it took was looking at each other a certain way one night when they were alone doing some late target practice and they were on top of each other, their mouths connecting and hands searching for whatever skin they could find. All the emotions came later, when they were more comfortable with whatever they were and what they had. How do you start with the feelings first and the passion second?

“It’s okay, Simon,” Kyle whispers, “Take your time.”

“I- I can’t say it. I can’t betray Johnny like that.”

Confusion flashes across Kyle’s face, before it dawns on him.

“Oh.” He says. Oh.

Kyle looks absolutely struck, like he doesn’t know how to process what Simon just told him.

Simon pinches the bridge of his nose and grimaces. He’s such an idiot. He shouldn’t have fucking done this. God- he’s so stupid-

He turns to walk away, muttering apologies when Kyle grips his arm again and tugs him back again. Instantly their lips are connected, locked together in a kiss that makes Simon completely melt inside.

It lasts for only a few seconds before they break apart, panting and looking wildly into each others eyes.

“What would he think?” Simon whispers, “I can’t do this to him.”

Kyle nods, a few stray tears falling from his eyes. “I know. I don’t know what to say to help fix it.”

“I love him,” Simon says, “I think I always will. It’s not- it’s not fair to you or him. I- I don’t know if I can love you both. I don’t want to lose him.”

“I understand,” Kyle says. He runs his hand up and down Simon’s arm, the one covered in tattoos of flames and skulls. “I wouldn’t know what to do either. I’ve never- I haven’t experienced something like that before.”

“I’m sorry, Kyle.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you.”

“You sure?”

“I am. We can just be friends. I want that.”

“Do you- feel the same?”

“As you do?”

Simon nods.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m glad.”

They stare at each other for a few more minutes. Simon hugs Kyle and kisses him on the forehead before he mutters a good night and stalks off to his room, pretending he doesn’t hear the soft cries coming from behind him.

Simon lays in bed, staring at the ceiling as tears keep rolling from his eyes. At least Kyle knows now.

He turns to the side, looking at the empty space where Johnny always slept. He still wishes he was there, would do anything to hold him one more time, but now he also wishes Kyle were there. Wishes he could hold Kyle to sleep and wake up next to him in the morning. How could he want both? It doesn’t make any sense.

He drifts off to sleep, his body and mind exhausted from all the crying. Once he falls under, the strangest feeling over takes him.

Someone is holding him from behind, wrapping their arms around his waist and nuzzling their face into his upper back, the same way Johnny always did.

“Si?” He hears someone say, in a voice that sounds oddly like his Johnny.

Excitement floods his bones. He goes to turn around, but Simon finds he can’t move. “Johnny?” He croaks out.

“‘M right here, love.”

Simon can’t cry in his dream, but if this were real, he’d be a puddle on the floor.

“Don’t cry, angel. I hate seeing you cry.”

“I’m so sorry,” Simon says, his voice breaking so badly he sounds almost inaudible. It feels like a weight is crushing his chest and caving in his ribs, smashing his heart into pieces.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything baby. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I- I promise I don’t love him. I only love you.”

“You know that’s not true. You do love him.”

“Not as much as I loved you.”

“You do. Just in a different way. I know you do. You always forget you can’t hide things from me, Si.”

Simon shakes his head. “I- I can’t do that to you. I won’t. I’m only yours, Johnny, I promise.”

“Maybe you used to be only mine, but you’re not anymore. You’re Kyle’s now too. I’m gone, Simon. I can’t be there anymore.”

“I really wish you weren’t.”

“I know.” Johnny presses a kiss to his back. “But that’s the way things are. I wish I could fix it, but I can’t. I want you to be happy, and you’ll be happy with him. He’ll take care of you now that I can’t.”

Simon wishes he could move so he could grip Johnny’s arm, feel his hands in his one more time.

“Go love him, Si. Go have fun. Go make memories. Go do all the things you want with him and do everything we couldn’t do together. I’ll be waiting right here for you when it’s all over, and I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

Simon chokes. “I want you there. I don’t want to do it without you.”

“I’ll be there love, I promise. I’ll be right there.” Johnny kisses Simon’s back one more time.

“You promise?”

“Aye, I do. And when your time is up and you come back to me, I’ll be there to hug you and hold you and kiss you again. I don’t mind sharing with Kyle.”

“You sure?”

“I am. Just don’t forget about me, baby.”

“I won’t. Fuck- I won’t, Johnny. I won’t ever forget.”

Simon feels the presence shift, and suddenly Johnny is in front of him, gripping his face and kissing him one last time.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Johnny.”

“Go have fun with him, for me.”

Simon wakes up gently to the sun caressing his skin that peeks out from under the blanket. For the first time in months he doesn’t wake full of aching and grief. He’s… calm. He’s not entirely happy, but the pain is manageable today. He’s better than he has been in a while.

He doesn’t know if that truly was Johnny speaking to him or a strange dream his mind conjured up to help him feel better, but he’s going to choose to believe it was whatever presence he’s been feeling that seems like Johnny.

If Johnny wants him to be happy, he can be happy. He can be with Kyle. He’s… god, he’s excited for it. He can’t wait to fall more in love with him.

He rushes out his room, not bothering to throw any other clothes on other than what he slept in, and finds Kyle making his morning tea in the kitchen.

Kyle notices him and quickly glances away in fear. “Morning,” he mumbles.

Simon grabs Kyle’s shoulders and kisses him with everything he has.

Kyle looks at him in shock. “I- Simon?“

“I’m sorry, Kyle. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“What?”

“I love you. I love you so much. God it- it fucking hurts how much I love you. I- I’m going to have to try and figure out how to love you both, but I want to try. It’ll hurt but I want to try because I want you, and- and I want to fight for you.”

Kyle looks at him with pure shock. Then a big grin spreads across his face. He throws his arms around Simon’s neck and hugs him as tight as he can. Simon’s arms find their home around Kyle’s waist, tugging him close.

It’s going to hurt. When Simon does things he never got to do with Johnny, it’ll hurt. When he realizes he’s been with Kyle longer than he’ll have ever been with Johnny, it’ll hurt. When he retires with Kyle and lives out the rest of his life with him, something he wanted with Johnny but now can never have, it’ll hurt. But his pain is just his love for him persevering. And Johnny said that he’ll be right there with him, so he won’t feel like he’s truly leaving him behind.

He kisses Kyle again, and for the first time in a while, his pain is all gone. There’s only joy, and the familiar presence of a soft kiss pressed into his back.

[studiogrimm810]

Speak of the Devil // part 2

pairings: (established) sam winchester x gn!you, dean is also there, cas is also also there

summary: you are taken by lucifer for over a week and sam damn near looses his head. when you are finally rescued, the trauma of what was inflicted on you has left it's mark and it's up to sam and dean to keep you put together

warnings: torture, ptsd, flashbacks, hallucinations, graphic depictions of said torture

word count: 2,600

A/N: hi again!! excited for pt 2 and already working on pt 3! i hope you’re all eating up the angst and heartache as much as i am ;) i’m so thankful to everyone reading my works and hope you like this one too,,,okay i’ll stop my rambling, enjoy!!! p.s. special shoutout to @internallysalad for being so hyped about this mini-series and also asking to be tagged in future parts of said series,, your support means the world <3

read part 1 here

———————

He’s there, you can see him with your own two eyes and you can feel his presence. Your spine shivers- and that tickle up your neck- it has to be him, right?

Sam looks behind him again to still see nothing there. “What do you see?” He asks calmly, wanting to get a hold on the situation. Your eyes dart between him while shooting back to Lucifer in the far right corner.

“I-it’s him, it’s Lucifer, I know it’s him,” you try to keep your eyes on Sam, “why can’t you see him?” The desperation in your question makes the moment all more pitiful but you’re too freaked to feel even a heat of embarrassment yet.

“I don’t know, honey,” Sam shakes his head softly, glancing at his brother who is having insane déjà-vu.

“What’s he doing? Is he saying anything?” Dean's gruff voice cuts through the soothing work Sam's voice is trying to maintain.

You shake your head, dragging your eyes back to Lucifer who stood in the far corner still, a mocking smile painted on his lips. The corner almost seemed darker with him there, as if he were sucking out the light from simply just being there. “He’s just standing- staring.”

And just like that, as you blink, he vanished. You look around to see if he’s reappeared anywhere else, sitting up as the tension melts away just a tad.

“He’s gone,” you say upon getting confirmation, looking back up at Sam who looks devastated.

“When Lucifer would hurt you,” Sam started, making sure to speak carefully, “where would you be? Was it that hospital?”

“H-hospital? No, he kept me in some cellar, and it was always dark out, like I was only awake at night,” you explain slowly, not wanting your words to choke you up.

“And how long did it feel like you were there?” Sam continues his questioning.

“Every time he woke me up, he would keep count. Right before I woke up in our bed here, he was on day 23,” you sniffled, starting to feel uneasy.

“Dean, see if you can get Cas here, I think I have a theory,” Sam says, not taking his eyes off of you. He takes his seat back and gently grabs one of your hands to hopefully make you feel a little better.

Dean starts to call for Cas but Sam keeps his eyes on you, tracing over every pained detail of your face. You seem so tired and weak, it worried him.

What else concerned him, was the fact that despite everything you say you went through, your body held no scar, stain, or blemish of proof other than the pricked mark of your IV drip. Yes, of course Sam knows that Lucifer can patch you up with the flick of his wrist, but you said he was torturing you up until the moment you opened your eyes at the bunker. That led Sam to believe Lucifer was torturing you in your sleep, and if that were the case, would he be there the next time you close your eyes?

Cas poofed into the room with a dramatic flap of his wings and he looked right at Dean first.

“Dean, what is it?” Cas asked, his baseline of stoic emotion melted with a tinge of concern.

“It’s them,” Dean turns to look at you, chair still pressed into the corner behind you, “Something’s wrong.”

Cas says your name, a shocked relief overtaking his worry as he meets your eyes, “You’re okay,” he says for verbal confirmation to himself that you’re back in the bunker again- safe and sound. However, the previous emotion takes back over as he sees the dread in your own eyes. “What is it?” Cas repeats, not with annoyance of not getting clarification but of urgency of wanting to know what happened to you while you were gone.

It’s silent for a moment and despite Cas’ appearance, Dean’s pacing and your panic, Sam hasn’t adjusted from his gaze on you. Partly, he’s lost in himself, struck with a mass of memories, fears, and the pain of his time with Lucifer. It’s the same landslide that always hits him like a punch in the gut that leaves him feeling hollow when he hears Lucifer’s name- he’s yet to get over the despair that follows him, the stain of The Devil.

What quickly starts to overtake Sam’s slowly dissociating fear is the reminder that you are now experiencing the aftermath of being at the mercy of The Devil.

That alone could send him into a spiral.

But he has to keep a hold on himself- for you.

“Cas, I need you to check them over for any markings. Anything similar to our ribs,” Sam turns his head to look back at Cas, but tearing his eyes off of you is delayed until he physically can’t reach you anymore, “please.”

Cas doesn’t hesitate as he takes his paces forward. Sam turns his attention back to you as Cas outstretched his hand to hover over your forehead but you instinctively flinch at his speed- it isn’t too fast or forceful, it’s just scary.

Now he hesitates, ticking back his hand so that he’s not close to touching you, his eyes pinching you with this contorted look of guilt.

Your flinch makes Sam close his eyes for a moment, holding back the emotion that threatens to spill over and consume him fully.

You nod up at Cas, your own splay of guilt and now building shame taking front row seats to your perspective. Cas offers a small smile that would comfort you if you could calm down enough to feel safe and off display.

Cas successfully reaches your head this time, hovering his palm over you and closing his eyes. A bright light emits from his palm and you close your eyes to avoid the sting. The warmth following from the beam starts to dissipate 

 a headache you didn’t even know you had.

After a few moments, he removes his hand and Sam is the first to speak.

“Is everything okay?” He tries to bite down how antsy he feels but the itch makes him unable to really stay still.

“There’s no branding or marking. There are remnants of Valerian and a few other herbs- it was to keep them asleep and bound,” Cas says, still looking at the spot his hand hovered over you. Your hold on Sam’s hand tightens as you try to make sense of what that means.

“Bound?” Sam repeats, a little confused on the meaning.

“It seems that they were given a potion or spell of some sort that kept them unconscious and mentally bound to someone or something- in this case Lucifer,” Cas explains, now looking in your eyes as he does so. Sam’s gaze drifts as he pieces together what this means and Dean is still pacing through the kitchen as he absorbs the information at his own pace.

“The IV drip-,” Dean pipes up as he stops in his tracks, “That must’ve been a constant supply,” he looks at Sam but Sam doesn’t meet his brother.

“IV drip?” Cas asks, turning his attention to Dean. Dean explains the entirety of the situation to Cas, filling him in on the hospital, the demons they killed, the room they found her in- all of it. Cas nods as he listens.

“Yes, that would make sense,” Cas agrees.

“What about me seeing him?” You ask, your words shaking with their lack of usual confidence. “I saw him and no one else did- am I going crazy?” You look up at Cas, hoping his answers will provide you all the comfort you need.

Sam’s eyes snap back to you as you speak, the caving of his chest into the hollow pit in his stomach only cracking deeper as your fear radiates through him. He doesn’t want you to think you’re crazy, and he doesn’t want you to be sacred. Not like he was.

No one deserves that.

“It could be a remnant of the spell- lingering after effects,” Cas optimizes, hoping that was the most comforting and likely reasonable thing he could say.

“Or the trauma,” Sam says, and to him that was more comforting.

You don’t know which will help you feel better, though.

“Is there a chance that it’s really him?” This was your biggest fear, really. The thought of Lucifer watching you.

Sam wants so badly to dismiss that thought, to do anything to make you feel better, safe, just generally okay again, but he refuses to lie to you.

“There is a possibility that maybe he can still bind with you due to any traces of the spell in your blood, but that won’t last,” Cas explains, hoping that fact will make you feel a little better.

“What if I see him again?” You turn your attention to Sam, a deep rooted aching worry in your gut. You thought that when you opened your eyes to see Sam again that everything would settle, but seeing The Devil reappear out of nowhere has completely rattled your sense of security.

Sam’s eyebrows pinch and his head tilts with just enough pity to make you feel like a child. He squeezed your hand softly and clenched his jaw, hoping to keep the tremble out of his voice as he spoke. “Then we’ll handle it,” he nods with such certainty- an abundance of determination flooding his words.

Sam remembers the hollowing effects that came with his own terrifying hallucinations of Lucifer and the feelings of pure despair he would feel. He wishes you weren’t experiencing this at all but since there’s nothing he can do about that then the one thing he can do is just be there for you. He refuses to let you feel alone.

“We’ll figure this out, honey,” Sam brings up his hand to cradle your cheek and you instinctively turn into it, letting the warmth sizzle your skin with smiling heat.

Dean has stopped his pacing to keep a watchful eye on his brother and his reactions. Dean knows the impact Lucifer had on his baby brother and the way that it changed him completely, he also knows the empathy Sam holds for people and to think that you are the one experiencing something so similar made Dean furiously depressed- it physically weighed on him.

Your eyes dart around the room, the overwhelming weight of everyone’s eyes and radiating concern make you feel on display and your face flushes with fresh embarrassment.

“C’mon, honey, you should get some rest,” Sam nods with a small curling smile at his lips to try and make the idea simply inviting, hoping that his gentle approach will coax you into a small bubble of safety at least.

You force your eyes to ignore the other men in the room and let yourself focus on Sam. You nod in response, ready for a little space from pitying eyes.

Sam stands and pulls your hands up to guide you with him. He places his hand on your lower back and pulls you close to his side, guiding you to the doorway of the kitchen.

“Thanks for your help Cas, we’ll talk more in the morning?” Sam turns to face the angel who returns his thoughtful eyes with a nod of reassurance- showing his consistent commitment and loyalty to the betterment of the Winchesters and those in their care.

Sam spares Dean a quick look that Dean can't quite put into words, but understands nonetheless.

As the two of you make it back to your room, Sam closes the door behind him and flicks on a few lamps to help the room glow a soft warm instead of the tingling fluorescent that’s built into the bunker's ceilings.

You stand, completely lost, in the middle of the room, your wrists bound by your fingers and checking over to make sure you don’t see him again.

Sam feels sick.

“Sweetheart?” He coos softly, taking a casual step towards you. Your eyes land on him after you finish your scan of the room and he has a small thump of victory in his chest at how you didn’t startle at his voice.

“What was it like?” It’s such a vague question but it registers with Sam immediately. He drifted his eyes off to the side as he shuffled through his thoughts, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He doesn’t know if he should sugarcoat it.

Sam had discussed his history with The Devil in the past with you before- the cage, the visions. Along with the other dark matters that make him up, such as the demon blood or his soulless self. Something that Sam never really imagined was having such a kind hearted soul like you absorb all of that mess and still somehow find the good in him. The deep empathy and pure love you both had for each other seemed to break binds and all laws of reasoning. 

That connection was now slowly deepening further with horrid understanding.

“It was-,” he takes in a deep breath and puffs up his chest like he was ready to lie it all out for you to inspect and prepare for, but he fell mute.

He held his breath waiting for the words to find him.

They didn’t.

You look down and back around your surroundings for anything fuzzy or just different.

“I’m scared, Sam,” you admit.

“I know,” he says sadly.

Something that didn’t leave Sam was the paranoia that came with hallucinations, not knowing what’s real or how to distinguish the senses.

His eyes dip down to your wrists and he takes note of how often you’ve moved to that hold. He carefully reached up and let his fingers clasp the free space on your wrists- an echo of your own hold.

“It’ll be okay, you’re safe,” he looks right into your eyes, watching closely to make sure you’re looking, “this-,” he tightens his fingers lightly, “is real, okay?”

You tense as his fingers touch your skin and you look at the delicacy of his placement. You look back up at him and as he tightens his hold you seem to drop some of the tension built under your skin. Your feet grip the ground tighter and your head is a bit more level.

“This is real,” you repeat, squeezing your wrists similarly to how he did. Sam feels a flutter of relief at the mimicked motion on your behalf and he tightens his own hold again, this time a bit harder.

“Yeah, honey, real,” Sam nods with a smile that warms your stomach.

The two of you stand like this for a few minutes, just enjoying the simple hold on each other.

“How about you get some rest now, hmm?” Sam reaches up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes roaming about your face as he does so. You nod and close your eyes, feeling the weight of events start to really press you down.

Sam’s hand caresses from your ear down to cup your jaw and pull you in so that he can kiss your forehead, keeping his hold firm and secure.

“I love you, baby,” he mumbles into your skin, barely breaking the kiss to do so. You smile in immediate response but force yourself to vocally address him as well.

“I love you too, Sam,” your voice is just a whisper as you hiss out the words past your tired smile.

He helps you into bed and holds you close as you try to will yourself to sleep.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

[anachronismstellar]

@xiaokuer-schmetterling

I can't I really can't because is so far from done and now Binghe and Shen Yuan want to make a big fuss and have extra scenes and aaaaaaaaa

But what I can do is give a little snippet :D

Because makes me feel like I did something and Airplane deserves more love and coffee

Here u go~

---------

Sometimes, while Airplane was butchering his story for money, desperate for the next paycheck, he would stare at the wall in front of him, all the notes of the first version that he had penned down throughout the years. It was bittersweet actually, to write and write and write while his posts its and drawings of what it could have been stared at him from his wall, glaring at him from their makeshift pedestal of what ifs.

Yeah, it sucked. But a beautiful book wouldn't warm his belly or keep him from being thrown out of his apartment, so he didn't hesitate to pick up the knife and carve out the meat of his universe, hollowing his characters in name of the next bowl of noodles.

The one thing, however, that he allowed himself to be proud of was the speed at which he handled his updates, feeding his fans with at least ten thousand words per chapter. It might have lacked substance, or most of the time, plot, but he could type and type fast!

And now, like everything else in his past life, his reason for pride and joy came back to bite him in the ass.

Because why did this word document have an infinite symbol for the number of pages???

“Urgh Cucumber can't find out about this, never,” he grumbled as he scrolled down as fast as he could. It felt like hours but he still was reading about the OG Shen Jiu being an asshole to Binghe!

Ok, time to give up.

“System?”

The little glowing box appeared next to him in a sparkling gold color, so very different from the old dull green that made Airplane squint his eyes at it. He had had no other choice but to accept the upgrade, even though he didn’t trust it one bit. Especially because, uh.

As soon as he had woken up from whatever the update was, his System was… How could he explain it without sounding ungrateful or insane??! But there was no other way to put it, his System was just-

【Greetings, Creator! How can this System be of service? ( ・∀・)】

Too nice.

“Uh. Yea. Hi hello listen, is there a way for me to go to the end of the file without eternally scrolling?”

The little box swirled and in a blink it showed all the commands Airplane could use to speed up his progress. Like it was that easy to be helpful and polite instead of showing him a wall of warnings and cryptic messages that lead to nowhere.

See?? Suspicious!!

He tried a few commands, searching for things they might have discussed during, uh, Linguang-jun's... Negotiation, but after a few minutes of loading screen after loading screen showing up, the System pinged one more time.

【Warning! Warning! Warning! This System has to warn the Creator, jumping immediately to the end might send The Terminal to a Blue Screen of Death! (O_O；)】

Great. Amazing. Perfect.

“Which part is the closest I can get without overloading the processes? Or I don't know- another way to go through this instead of reading?”

The System swirled again, the loading symbol spinning with a good amount of freezing from time to time. He's about to ask the System to cancel the command when the entire room shifts to a white room with his desk in the middle of it, the wall in front of his laptop turning into the biggest screen he had ever seen. Displayed on it, all his files, the amount of documents almost as uncountable as the pages in his book.

“Okay, okay, I can work with this,” and back to scrolling he went. It wasn’t the best solution with the little bar on the right so compressed it seemed to be a line, but it was better than glaring at a wall of text with no end. He had to make pauses from time to time, checking the chapters names or their lack of, rubbing both hands all over his face, knocking his glasses off his nose and- holy shit he had glasses again oh fucking hell-

What was he even doing? He had no time for this, he had to find Mobei-jun, shit he had to find Cucumber-bro and his asshole of a husband that Airplane was so going to throw at the Abyss again for being such an asshole and unfilial son-

“I need coffee. Shit, System can I have coffee? I swear if we survive this I’m gonna find a fucking way to make coffee even if I have to go to the fucking Abyss myself-”

The softest ping! next to his ear made him turn his face to the side before the scent of fresh coffee hit his nose. It had been so many years, what the actual fuck was happening right now, he about to cry because?? That was the smell of fresh coffee?! Shit.

【One black coffee right away! (ﾉ・ヮ・)ﾉ旦

Would you like sugar and milk? 】

Maybe he just died.

Yes. Maybe this was his way of paying for everything his fans went through. Living as Shang Qinghua and having a happy ending wouldn’t be a fitting punishment, right?

What was it like Fullmetal Alchemist or some shit? He had to trade his life for coffee?! That was what the System considered equivalent?!

“How-” He licked his lips, unable to not pick up the mug in front of him, the warmth of it sending shivers down his spine. “How many points for this?”

【The Creator’s System is not based on points! As a Super User status, the Creator has vast liberties with the Universe, although being bound by the laws of the Universe of the story! °˖✧◝(・▿・)◜✧˖°】

He took a sip but he couldn’t swallow because what. What. Was this thing talking about???

WHAT????

“Hold on-” he almost went the Cucumber-bro route from how hard he had choked, but as he was already dead, it didn’t matter, ahahaha, right? RIGHT?? “What do you mean by that?! That doesn’t make any sense?? You telling me what, I can make up shit out of thin air just because?!”

【Not exactly! (・ヮ・)ﾉ As the Creator, you now have the permission to introduce new lore and deepen the story! However, your role as the Creator cannot modify what has already been established as canon by the main plot and the Main System! ( ◡‿◡ )】

---------

:)

God!Shang Qinghua my beloved *dreamy sigh*

It's closer to be done than before but I still have some scenes to go for our dear Author to reach Godly levels!

But is close, I can feel it

the craziness is talking to me is telling me to post the airplane vs the system fic without being finished

I won't do it because still not done but URGH THE TEMPTATION

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

I am exhausted, good heavens.

[claitea]

whoa guys did you see the new cards i really want alto's full art!!

made with this site! art without the text under the cut :D

[doctorwhoisadhd]

hmm thinking about the idea of love songs. i think the idea of what a love song is that we have in our culture is inherently a little bit flawed because we have the idea that any song written about romantic feelings is a love song and im thinking thats not exactly true because there is a difference between "romance" and "love". what i'm saying is not that love is a broader category and applies to things that are not romantic in nature. this is in fact true, but it's not what makes the important distinction here. the true distinction between "romance" and "love" is that romance is a societally defined type of interest in another person, whereas love is, essentially, a promise that you make when you build a relationship.

as such, what i call "love" here might be better defined as "care", as that implies more time and effort, but that's a different suitcase to unpack and largely unimportant to my point here, which is more about the societal conventions of what we call love songs. the point is, relationships can be built with other people, yes, but also animals, places, organizations, ideas, so on and so on, whereas romance requires another person, hence the difference between the ideas of "romance" and "love".

with that in mind, there are two types of songs we in western, english speaking, society call "love songs":

1) songs that are about a person's romantic interest in someone that is either definitively known to be unrequited (existing monogamous relationship, sexuality that doesn't align, etc) or simply not requited (aka romantic interest being unknown); and

2) songs about an existing relationship (keeping in mind my points about relationships not just being with people, but also places, things, etcetera) as is.

(some examples of the latter category: mountaintop by relient k, which defines the relationship in question as non-romantic; or i miss my mum by cavetown, which is - as the title implies - a song about the singer missing their mother.)

now, the thing that makes distinguishing these two difficult is the fact that songs about an existing relationship CAN be about wanting certain aspects of that relationship to change. in these cases, determining that a song is one or the other will hinge either on a) authorial intent or b) whether the song is more about what the singer wants (thereby implying #1) or the lack thereof in that relationship (which would imply #2).

to get back to the subject at hand: the term "love song", as we think of it, is an umbrella term that include both of these two categories, and i think that perhaps it is reductive to do so. with that in mind, i think perhaps it would be more appropriate for "love song" to mean only the latter, whereas the former is a category of its own. WHICH is not to say that the two can't overlap — just that if a song is about a person with whom the singer has no relationship, it cannot be considered a love song due to the fact that it is a song about infatuation, not love.

(another interesting wrinkle this provides is the fact that a song might start out in the first category and, as the writer develops a relationship with a person, might move into the second category as they write more.)