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jakescaravel · 1 year ago

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A Lovey Promise

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 4,718

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, being tipsy, friends to lovers, kissing, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dares, teasing, dom Jake, hickeys, praise, very very slight allusions to pain (only briefly), orgasm denial, 18+ MDNI!!!

Summary: Your best friend, dripping with a level of confidence that slightly annoys you, delivers an offer, a bet that you simply can't refuse...

6 empty shot glasses sit on the coffee table in front of you thanks to you and Jake’s ongoing tradition. That being shots and a movie, always picked at random (that part being very important), at least once a month although it usually ends up being more.

You lay on the couch curled into Jake’s side underneath a warm comforter. Your hand softly rests on his chest, feeling the gentle beat of his heart along with the subtle ruse and fall of his chest. His arm wraps around you, cocooning you in your shared world of peace, calming you in a way only capable by Jake. It’s so easy to feel safe with him like this. Sometimes when the two of you hang out, you forget that anyone else exists at all. Just the two of you in his small, old apartment.

The cuddling is entirely platonic of course. Not many people understand you and Jake’s friendship, but to the two of you, it makes perfect sense. Sure you guys cuddle and hang out constantly, and maybe you’ve shared a few makeout sessions after having one too many, but those were just “mistakes”. He’s your best friend. And nothing more.

You’re definitely feeling the alcohol and Jake must be as well due to his slightly slurred speech and uncensored Jake commentary.

“Whaddyou think ‘bout the movie Lovey?”

You can feel his head turn towards yours when he speaks, chin resting atop your head, although you can’t see his face. His use of your nickname warms your heart. Especially because of the way it floats off his adorably inebriated tongue. You had earned that nickname after buying a boyfriend of yours flowers years ago- an act Jake thought to be silly and just plain backwards. (“You’re such a hopeless romantic, you’re so lovey dovey, it's honestly sickening. What, does this guy not buy you flowers? Do I need to have a talk with him? Bet he doesn’t fuck you right either…)

The name stuck ever since, but of course you love it.

“I don’t really know what's going on to be honest.”

“Yeah… itsnot very good.” He states matter of factly before a yawn passes his lips. “Oh look, they're kissing, finally some action!”

Huffing a laugh at his almost childlike revelation, you sit up a little taller and turn your head back toward the screen. The two characters, nameless due to your lack of attention, sit on a couch, hands chasing after each other. She moans into the kiss, parting her lips for him as he lays her down on the couch. Your thighs clench together on their own accord and you could have sworn it’s subtle, but Jake lets out a giggle.

You decide to ignore him completely with your eyes still glued to the screen. Jake’s remarks have stopped, telling you he’s watching just as intently as you, and all of a sudden you’re very aware of how close you are to him. His breathing, his hair ticking your face, his smell. He always smells so good, fresh and clean, but buried below a layer of sweat and musk. So Jake, so perfect.

You wonder what he's thinking about. Maybe if he too notices the proximity of your bodies, or the way your breathing has slowly picked up.

The man’s hand drifts down as the girl let’s out another overly dramatic moan. Of course the screen doesn’t really show anything, but it sure leaves a lot to the imagination, letting your mind wander without hopes of stopping.

Jake shifts on the couch, his hand falling from around your shoulder to land around your hip. He pulls you closer to him and speaks again, but this time the playful quality to his voice is gone, and all that’s left is a low grumble.

“Do you think she’s enjoying it?” His other hand comes to your chin, pulling your face to look at him.

“What?” You try to look away from his eyes, the heated stare overwhelming you in your current flustered state, but his grip tightens forcing you to stare straight into his piercing brown eyes.

“Do you think that girl is having fun?” His lips curl into an alluring smile when he sees your slightly panicked state, releasing his hand from your chin, but not before quickly letting his thumb dart over your cheek.

You force yourself to maintain the contact, his dark gaze pulling you deeper into your thoughts and he offers you a smile that too closely resembles a smirk. You curse the heat growing between your legs at just the sight of that stupid smug look you want so badly to wipe from his face. Taking a grounding breath, you answer as if he hasn’t affected you at all.

“Yeah I mean she’s moaning like a pornstar so it can’t be that bad.”

He turns back to the screen nodding slowly, his lips pursed. “Well this guy is clearly not experienced.”

You look back to the screen, questioning it for yourself. You guess you haven't really been paying attention to the details. It’s funny how anything slightly erotic just shuts off the brain, causing it to act like a horny sex zombie.

“Yeah this guy has no idea what he’s doing.” He states again, an air of confidence in his tone that amuses you.

“Oh really? And you’ve got it all figured out right?”

“Well yeah.” He quips back.

You can’t help the laugh that trills out. All guys think the same; they all think they’re the best in bed, and they all think they make their girl cum when really… they never have.

“What, you don’t believe me?” A stupid grin paints his face and he pokes your cheek, making them instantly flame.

“No Jake, I don’t think you could please a woman any better than this guy.” You point to the small screen again, rolling your eyes.

“Oh reallyyy.” He drags out the last syllable as he sits up to face you.

You turn to him, cutting your eyes at his sneering face. He reaches for the bottle of vodka on the coffee table, taking a swig straight from the bottle. You force your eyes away from his bobbing adam's apple as the liquid goes down. He doesn’t even wince.

“I could make a girl cum with just my fingers.”

You roll your eyes again, trying to ignore the warmness that has made its way to your cheeks. When you look back to Jake, you can tell that he’s made no joke, no silly remark. He’s being serious.

“What, you don’t believe me?”

“No.”

“I could prove it to you.”

You let out a slow shaky breath after realizing you had been holding it in. You extend your hand to reach for the bottle. Taking a generous swing of the burning liquid, you return your attention to the man in front of you.

“You could prove it to me?”

“I bet I could make you cum with just these.” He holds up his hand, wiggling his fingers in the air.

“Bullshit.”

“You really don’t believe me huh Lovey? You’ve never heard what they say about guitarists?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.

His voice is low, dripping with sex and his tongue comes out licking a slow line along his bottom lip. He smirks when he notices you staring. And god, that little nickname, what used to seem so innocent now having a playful bite.

“I bet I could make you cum three times with just my fingers.” He holds them up again, reaching out to touch your face. You jump back and he laughs at you.

He stares at you, waiting for a response. Your mind is racing along with your heart. There’s no way he’s being serious… but the look on his face tells you otherwise. He raises his eyebrows again in question.

“Is that a bet?”

“Maybe it is… and you know I never lose.”

He’s referring to his competitiveness by nature. It’s true that as long as you've known him, he won’t stand losing. It’s a part of being a Kiszka you’ve figured out by now. They always bend the rules in their favor, making sure they’re on the winning side of whatever bet, whatever contest.

“I don’t think you’re winning this one Jakey.” You mean for it to come off as condescending but the second you hear the words come out of your mouth you wish to pull them back in. You can tell he’s taken them as an even further challenge as his eyebrows raise in question.

He leans forward on the couch, planting his hands on his knees until you can feel his breath.

“Well I wouldn’t lose, but just to humor you, I’ll bet you whatever you want.”

A low tingle has formed inside your stomach. A familiar feeling - the anxious excitement. The thrill of the flirt, although you still can’t tell just how playful it is, and that thought alone makes you want to hurl or pounce on him, you still haven’t decided.

“I get whatever I want?” For some reason, confidence is building inside you. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you - so sure of himself that you have no choice but to match the energy. Or maybe it’s because deep down, you know you want whatever he’s thinking of giving to you.

He gives you a slow nod, smiling again at your new slightly eager tone.

“I want you to admit that you’re not some guitar god, you’re just another guy. You need to stop acting so full of yourself, you need to be humbled.”

He laughs again, a genuine laugh that reminds you of your best friend, although it doesn’t seem that’s the person sitting in front of you right now.

“Sure y/n, and if I win, you have to call me ‘The Sex God.’ ”

The nervous laughter bubbles out of you as you cast your eyes to your feet. The worst part of this is that he’s acting like such a douchebag, but you don’t hate it. In fact you find yourself wanting to know what it’s like to sleep with the sex god, as stupid as it sounds.

“Why do you want to so bad Jakey?”

“Well first of all, don’t act like you don’t want to, I can see it written all over your face. You forget I know you better than anyone. And second, don’t act so naive.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, simultaneously nervous and excited for the answer.

“I love you and care about you, so much, you’re my best friend, but don’t act like we’re above all that. We’ve kissed before y/n, you really think we’d never go farther?”

“Well… I’m not really sure. I guess the thought crossed my mind… maybe I thought it would happen eventually.”

Your own confession slightly shocks you, but as soon as you say the words aloud, nothing has ever made more sense. You look back to him and he looks almost proud of you, and it makes you want to jump into his arms and suck the praise right out of him.

“That’s my girl.” He smiles again, flashing you all his teeth, making your heart melt all over again.

“Come on, don’t overthink it.”

He starts to stand up, making the whole situation seem very, very real. You close your eyes for a moment, just in case this is some sort of dream, but when you open them, you’re even more sure that this is what you want. You want him. You want your best friend, and as wrong as it might be, it's the truth.

He extends his hand, a simple gesture, an invitation, and you take it, letting him lead you into unknown waters.

He pulls you in front of him, letting you lead the way to the room you’ve slept in a million times. His hands meet your hips as you walk, the touch feeling searing hot and trickling down until you can feel the wetness between your legs.

Your mind is simultaneously racing and completely empty. How is it that an act so forbidden could feel so right? So simple?

The curtains are pulled back on the window allowing a sliver of moonlight to poke into the room. Aside from that, the lights are off and you almost ask him to turn them on but then decide it’s probably for the best.

Once he reaches the bed, he turns to face you and his features start to come into view as your eyes adjust to the darkness. He wears a smug grin as he extends his hand for you to grab once more. He sits on the bed, shuffling backwards as you grab his hand, letting him pull you to meet him.

He rests his body along the headboard and you crawl closer, stilling in front of him on your knees, unsure of your next move. Thankfully he does the thinking for you.

“Turn around.”

Without second guessing it, you turn around so that your back is to him, and impatiently, he pulls your hips back, reminding you of his strength so that you rest, slotted in between his extended legs, back flush against his chest.

Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself to melt into his touch, after all, it is familiar. Your head lays back in the crook of his neck and his lips ghost over your ear.

“Can I take off your shirt?”

His voice is barely above a whisper and sends a shiver down your spine. Without saying a word you lift up your arms and allow him to slide off the thin fabric. Having chosen to skip the bra this morning, your chest springs free to which he hums in approval.

“Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

Carefully, his fingers slide against your skin, trailing along the top of your breast before kneading into the soft skin. He emits a low growl in your ear as your back arches, chasing his touch.

Before he has the chance to ask, you lift your hips off the bed to slide your pants down, along with the lacey panties you had chosen this morning - such a shame he isn’t able to see them. Upon your eager initiative, Jake grants you a kiss to the exposed flesh of your neck, traveling up to whisper in your ear.

“Good girl.”

The proximity of his voice, the words he speaks, the rush of it all makes you utter a small moan that doesn’t go unnoticed. He seems to suck it in along with the small mark he makes just below your ear. You savor the feeling of his wet mouth on you, hoping it never leaves as his hand starts to slide down your stomach.

Your legs part for him as his hand reaches your mound, stilling there, garnering anticipation that makes you hold your breath, releasing it when he slides an inch further.

Finally, like the first gasp you take upon emerging from water, his fingers slide over your clit to your entrance to gather up the evidence of your arousal. A small moan is muffled through your gritted teeth as his fingers slide through you, he laughs against your ear.

“All this for me?”

His breath tickles you and in an act that makes your head spin, he sucks gingerly on your earlobe while plunging his middle and ring finger deep inside you. The sudden pressure causes your head to push back even further as you arch away from him. His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you back to meet his chest as his fingers push in even deeper, testing the limits of your tight walls.

Whines and moans surpass your lips as his fingers start to curl inside you, pulling in and out as they tuck in. Have his fingers always been this thick? This heavy? Watching him play guitar they always seemed so nimble but now, now you aren’t so sure.

The mere stretch of only two of them makes you wonder what it would feel like to have a third, a fourth or perhaps to have his cock instead. How it would feel stretching you out even further.

With his hand picking up a steady rhyme, his lips are back on you, biting and licking their way up to your ear to whisper sweet praises. He moves back to the skin of your shoulder, marking you in a way that may make you feel ashamed tomorrow, but today, all you feel is the pure ecstasy he’s supplying you with.

“How does it feel, baby?”

“Good.” You manage to choke out, hardley comprehending what he’s saying as his fingers jolt inside of you.

“Just keep on feeling, I'll get you there.”

He licks a stripe up to the skin behind your ear, circling it there as you push your head deeper into his touch. Your legs start to tremble, feeling as if the pleasure is too much while being not nearly enough. The slow build starts in your stomach and travels to your chest, tightening while your muscles contract, flowing to your toes as they gently curl and flex.

“That’s it, just give it up baby.”

Your moans become sporadic and in mere seconds you feel almost there, except he slows his fingers down to which you whine in protest. His low gravely laughter hits the shell of your ear going straight to your core as he picks the pace back up, reminding you of how close you were.

Your hips arch away from him again but this time his hand travels to the flesh of your breast, squeezing and pulling you back to him. It almost hurts as his fingers pinch around your nipple, but at the same time, pain feels like a foreign concept entirely. You scoot back too, feeling his rock solid cock threatening to burst from his pants. You want to see it, want to touch it, taste it. However your thoughts are cut off when it finally explodes inside of you.

You can’t hear the sounds you’re making as your legs thrash against the sheets, head turning and arching as his fingers work away inside of you. It washes you over, seeming like it has no end, making you feel like this was the best decision you’ve ever made.

However as soon as it starts, it slows, letting you still feel the pleasant buzz as your legs calm down, still twitching and jolting with every slowed movement of his strong fingers.

“Number 1.”

He hums in your ear. He sounds amused, like you're only a toy he gets the pleasure of playing with, however you have no problem with that if it means you get to feel like this.

“Can you give me another?” He poses it as a question, but you know it's really a demand.

His fingers don’t stop inside you, threatening to pull you into overstimulation as they continue to deliciously curl inside. You turn your face to his, whining against his lips which he presses into yours, for just a split second before pulling back - like he regrets the action, however you don’t have enough time to process it.

The fizzling orgasm picks back up, this time coming from deeper within, almost sizzling white hot, making your legs shake even harder. It hasn’t started yet, but it’s coming. Bubbling up slower so that you hope it can be over with, to save you from the burning anticipation.

“Jake I- I can’t… it’s too much.”

“No it isn’t, just relax, feel it. You’re so close, let me have it, I want it.”

Fuck. The greed he so shamelessly emits. The greed for you, for your cum. It’s enough to make your mind go blank as you force yourself to just feel the feelings he’s giving you.

He pushes his hand back so that the crook of his thumb rubs against your clit with every drag of his fingers. One of two swipes and you’re rocking your hips into his them, chasing the feeling as it washes you over again.

His name falls from your lips until it’s the only word you know, and in the far distance you can hear his own struggling moans of pleasure, his own ragged breathing as you tremble against him.

When it becomes too much, your legs shut around his hand, but his feet lock over your ankles, pulling your legs apart and overpowering them with his weight until you’re spread even wider while his hand finishes the job.

Finally, before you would have fallen into the waters of bliss, drowned forever, his hand slows and fingers gently slide out of you. You watch them, glistening with the moonlight as they rest on your heaving stomach.

Your legs are still open as they jolt and shudder. A single nip is given to your neck before a kiss is placed in its spot. “You did so good for me, so so good.”

A small smile makes its way across your face, although he can’t see it. You want to find the right words to let him know how good he can make you feel, better than anyone else, but your lack of words must do for now. You can’t help yourself as you turn your face to tuck into his neck, breathing in his intoxicating scent.

His other hand pets your hair as you take a few deep breaths, grounding yourself. Before you’ve barely regained your footing, his hand is drifting lower, you can feel the wetness it leaves in its path before a single digit circles your swollen clit. You yelp in surprise as it presses in further. You bite the skin of his neck, listening and reveling in the hiss he makes that flows out of him like a soft whine. It’s delectable and reignites that flame inside you.

“Can you give me number 3?” He whispers to you, like he’s scared to wake you even though you’re far from asleep. You give a slow nod and pick your face up to watch his soaked fingers drag further down your slit until three of them tease at your entrance.

You bite your bottom lip as they start to slide in, stretching you with every inch, stinging in the perfect way when he pushes them deeper in, relying on a little force to press them all the way in. A chokes out moan struggles out of you, filling the room in a way that should make you feel ashamed, but in this moment, you feel nothing of the sort.

Once his fingers reach in as far as they'll go, he wastes no time in picking up a merciless pace. It's hard to even register the speed as they pump in and out, filling you up in the most satisfying way you’ve ever experienced.

His mouth is on you again. Hot. Wet. And strong as he licks and sucks with no real purpose, only to satisfy his needs through watching you like this.

“Cum for me Lovey, make me win, I wanna watch it come out of you, soak my hand even more. Come on, let me have it… fuck Lovey…”

It’s something about that stupid nickname falling from his lips so desperately as his dominant demeanor falters, showing you his true need for you. It’s not hard to give it up as it builds faster than before. It feels like it springs out of nowhere until you're screaming into the otherwise quiet room. You’ll surely get strange looks walking from his apartment in the morning, but it doesn't matter, nothing matters. You feel on fire, perfect, fulfilled.

His teeth drag along your skin as your head thrashes in the crook of his neck, legs threatening to break free from his grasp as he struggles to hold you there. His hand works relentlessly as you moan and whine while your hands twist into the sheets, toes curling, eyes rolling back as you lose sense of the world around you.

His other hand snakes down to tease over your sensitive clit as his teeth bite into the flesh of your neck. Your whole body is numb the second he touches you there. The white hot pleasure is enough to make you cease to exist. You’re just a body floating in a colorless void with sounds in the distance you aren’t sure you're making.

His voice raises in volume until it breaks through your void, allowing you to hear him. He’s choking on his words through a cloud of lust, “Come on Lovey, you can give me one more, give me number 4.” It sounds like he’s never wanted something more in his life. Sounds like he needs it more than you do. His voice is quivering through painted breaths as his hands move even faster, working you with perfect opposition.

His tongue darts out, licking into your ear before teeth come to bite around your earlobe, enough to make it sting, enough to make you want more. And then it burst out of you. The only sense - touch, the warmness seeping in from under you. Your legs threaten to break the bed as they break free from Jake’s grasp, clenching around his hands that show no sign of stopping.

You feel it around your legs too, the warmness, the flow, the wetness. His breath is on your neck again, you can hear him moaning into your ear.

“That’s it Lovey, good girl, good girl baby. Just give it up, come on, that’s it, soak me, yeah just like that…”

A few more seconds and he slows his movements down until your legs fall from around his hands. They lay defeated on the bed as he removes his fingers from you. Your chest is heaving up and down as you come back to earth to find a dark spot sitting on the bed beneath you.

When you realize what it is you cast your eyes away, hiding once more in the crook of his neck, but he sits you up taller to pull your face away.

“What's wrong y/n?”

You don’t answer, don't speak. There's nothing you could possibly say to him, that is until you meet his eyes, once dark with lust now turned sweet, and you can almost see them shine in the moonlight.

For some reason, in this moment, the air of seriousness breaks and your face erupts in laughter. It doesn’t take much for him to join in and soon you’re laughing together, just like old times, but it doesn't feel wrong. Not in the slightest.

“I’ve never done that before.” You finally speak up, looking back to the ruined sheets.

“Well that. Was easily the hottest fucking thing i’ve ever seen.” “Really?”

“Yes. Without a doubt.”

You stare at him for a moment, letting yourself blush and smile as he repeats the action. The sweet moment is short lived however when he turns it back to the bet.

“So if making you cum 3 times makes me the Sex God… then what does 4 times make me?”

“Oh shut the fuck up Jake.”

“Well I won the bet. You better uphold your side of the deal.”

You stare at him angrily before muttering under your breath, but of course that isn’t enough for him. His smile, despite being covered by shadows, lights up the room with his pride, flowing off of him like sex.

“You’re The Sex God.”

“What was that? Couldn’t really hear you.”

“You’re The fucking Sex God Jake, I swear to god if you make me say it one more time.”

“Okay thank you. I’m satisfied. By the way, do you want to put some clothes on?”

You look down, blushing once more at your exposed skin. Before you even have time to have any shred of decency to cover yourself up, he's lifting his shirt up and handing it to you. You thank him and slide it over your body before stealing a quick glance to his smooth chest. You quickly look back up to his smirking face, and roll your eyes once more.

“Oh uh by the way.. I know this isn’t the best timing but uhh I don’t have any extra sheets so we’re gonna have to sleep on the couch…”

Part 2

#jake kiszka #jake x reader #greta van fleet #greta van fic #smut #romance #friends to lovers #best friends

266 notes · View notes

danieyells · 9 months ago

Note

Think about this idea! It's been almost a year and you didn't find the anomaly or how to solve your curse, most of the boys know but aren't really keeping track, a year is so far away and it slips away so fast but suddenly the MC one day starts skipping some classes or acting odd so one of the boys (for special angst one who has a crush on mc but didn't confess yet) ask them what is going on and they fall in the realization when they say "one week left"

I was trying to take a nap when i remembered this ask and this idea clawed its way into my head. So hey.

It's not quite what your idea was, but I hope you like it anyway, anon.

Frostheim.

Vagastrom.

Jabberwock.

Sinostra.

Hotarubi.

Obscuary.

Mortkranken.

Even the previously missing Dionysia ghouls.

You'd met and bonded with all of the ghouls in Darkwick, and even a few outside of it. You'd gone on missions. You'd even begun to get the ghouls to capture anomalies instead of kill them. The anomalies were being studied and discoveries were being made.

But none relating to your own curse.

The Gala came and went, the Laurel Crown awarded. The third years had moved on to become fourth years. You'd had many hard and tearful goodbyes. Promises to meet again that you hoped could come true. Some more firm understandings that this was goodbye, and wishes of good luck.

Soon the new first years would be coming and they would be assigned their houses.

Soon. . . .

"Dandelion?" The temporary Captain of Jabberwock leaned over to stare at you, a curious look on his face. Towa had been inconsolable for a while after Haru had left, and Jabberwock had been plagued by violent storms of snow and hail and lightning. Eventually it all calmed down. You hoped the quieter and natural atmosphere of Jabberwock could heal your stressing heart. All it did was leave you to your thoughts. Thoughts that must have shown on your face. Towa seemed to have had gotten over his own problems, and seemed back to his usual self. His arms looped around you, feeling like warmth and sunshine incarnate. No wonder plants lived him so much. "Here you go! A hug to make your sad face go away!"

You laugh weakly. But it doesn't take the dread away. You turn into him and smell the sweet and floral scent about him, clinging and trying to hide your woes so he wouldn't begin to feel bad again. You thank him, and he gives you a squeeze.

"That didn't help?" Somehow you felt bad for not reassuring him. "What's the matter? Do you miss Haru too?"

You did miss Haru. You missed all your friends and loved ones.

You were going to miss all of your friends and loved ones.

"Whaddyou mean? Tell me." He gave you a squeeze of encouragement. You choked back a sob, but barely managed to whimper out your woes.

"One week left. . . ."

"One week. . .?" In one week the new first years would arrive and be assigned their houses. In one week, it will have had been a year since that concert, since that anomaly, since-- "Oh! Your curse!!"

Part of you wanted to feel angry at how Towa didn't seem bothered by it. He cuddled you, petting your hair. "You're gonna die soon, huh?"

How blunt. He was like this a lot, dismissive about life. Sometimes it scared you, but in ways it was comforting to hear it said so straightforward. Yes, you were going to die soon. Someone said it. Someone acknowledged it. Someone remembered.

"That's okay! Everybody dies eventually!"

"But I don't want to die, Towa!" You cry, snapping your head up to look at him desperately. He parted his lips as of in surprise. "I'm not ready to die! I-- I--"

"Hmm." Towa looked at you with contemplative pity. "So you don't wanna die yet? You wanna keep living?"

You nod. Did Towa think so little of his own life that he couldn't comprehend wanting it to continue? Or was he just that unempathetic? Maybe you didn't mean much to him, and he didn't care if you were gone the way he cared when Haru left.

"Why don't you ask me for help?"

What?

"What do you mean?" You looked at him inquisitively. Towa smiled back down at you, beguiling, lavender hair framed by an inky black sky.

"Why don't you ask me to save you? So you don't die as soon."

You shook your head. "Towa, I was cursed by some anomaly--we never found another one like it, I--I can still remember its eye and nothing that erases my memory works to make me forget. Everytime I close my eyes lately I see it like--like it's coming after me, like it's getting closer. I see that eye in other people's eyes, I--"

"Do you see it in mine?" It's eerily still and quiet in Jabberwock today. You look in his eyes. It's easy, like nothing but you two exists right now. "Is it there?"

"No." You swallow. You don't remember standing. You don't remember Towa standing, either. "No, it's not."

"I can help you. I promise." Why was it so dark? The sky wasn't clouded, and Towa wasn't upset. You didn't remember it being dark when you came here. The warmth of the sun was your only comfort alone with your thoughts. "You just have to ask me. Ask me to help you."

"But. . .how will you help me?" As a matter of fact, it was midday when you came here, wasn't it? Why could Towa talk in the first place. "What can you do that no one else could? Wh-why didn't you say something sooner?"

"Do you want me to grant your wish? Or not?" You could see Towa clearly, but the deep darkness around you reflected no light in his eyes. It reminded you of being in the sunken ship disguised as an undersea palace, when those anomalies tried to keep you from leaving. You didn't feel cold like that time though. You felt warm. You almost felt safe.

"I. . .I. . . ." Something told you to run away. For a moment, you saw the anomaly's eye again. Towa looked irritated, and suddenly it was gone, as if frightened away. You heard thunder crack in the distance. "I want to live. . . ."

"Tell me what you wish for." He smiled at you. It was welcoming and pitying. Like finding a lost child. "I'll keep your safe."

His face was very close, your eyes locked in his. You felt weaker than ever with him holding you like this. The words spilled out of your mouth.

"I wish my curse was gone. . .I wish I could live. . .please help me, Towa. . . ."

Towa smiled and pet your hair. Then he stepped back from you. You clung to his sleeves, afraid of being abaoned to the emptiness around you. Between you, a pale plant grew to eye level, flowering before your very eyes.

"Eat it."

The plant moved itself to your mouth. You parted your lips, allowing it in, and closed your teeth and lips around it like you'd done with so many plants Towa fed you. It ripped itself away from you, and you chewed it. Your mouth was filled with complex flavors, sweet and bitter and painful and unfamiliar. Your senses were filled with something soft and numbing. But you still felt the strong press of Towa's lips on yours, pushing the flower down your throat. Somehow, you didn't gag from the pressure.

When you swallowed, a wave of nausea hit you. The sickly feeling was followed by electricity, jolting through your mouth and down your throat and up your spine, into your stomach and brain. You felt it travel to the tips of your fingers and pores, arcing across every hair along your body.

And then the sharp pain and blast of fog filled your head.

It felt like roots implanting themself through your whole body, as if replacing every part of your nervous system. You opened your mouth ask what was happening, but all that left you was a scream so loud it hurt your throat. Your eyes and face burned with your tears.

You dug your nails into Towa's arms as he pulled Way, and he watched on without helping as you began to vomit. It hurt. All of this hurt. You vomited burning and freezing mud, and what you vaguely grasped to be seeds. The empty world around you seemed to consume the mess, drinking it up and burying the seeds into the invisible earth.

As you heaved and gasped when it finally came down, you watched another plant grow. This one was familiar. It flowered quickly, and you remembered the flowers of the anomaly that cursed you. You saw them flower and grow, and you gasped, yanking your hands away from Towa to cover your eyes.

Not again, you didn't want to see the eye again.

It wasn't until you heard lightning and hail, feeling the fall of it directly in front of you that you realized you couldn't remember how the eye looked anymore. The memory was simply gone.

"Did you feel it? It was like being struck by lightning, right?" Towa's voice echoed around you jovially. "That means we're soulmates now. Because your soul is mine now. Our pact is sealed. And your curse is gone."

"Wha--ow. . . ." You snapped your head up, pulling your hands away from your eyes to look at Towa, only to shield your eyes from the bright, warm sun of Jabberwock. It burned, after being in the dark so long--and after the sensory overload after eating that flower. Looking down and shielding your eyes from the light, you saw something smouldering between yours and Towa's feet, surrounded by charred petals. "What. . .what did you do, Towa. . .?"

Towa made an inquisitive sound at you, tilting his head. He once again looked innocent. He once again couldn't speak under the light of day. He smiled and giggled, covering your eyes and kissing you again, humming happily against your lips. From being around him for over a year you'd already begun to understand him when he couldn't speak. He was reassuring you. You'll be okay, he says. You don't need to be afraid anymore.

"But. . .my soul. . .a pact. . .like a. . .?"

Like a demon?

Was Towa a demon?

He pat you on the back, silently saying not to worry. And then, he leapt into the air, off to somewhere else in the former safari area, leaving you to pull yourself together.

The eye was gone from your mind. You couldn't remember anything besides the flowers and their charred state in the beautiful green grass of Jabberwock.

You held your stomach, feeling it knot with nerves.

The curse was gone. You'd live. . .but now your life was in Towa's hands.

You began to leave Jabberwock, turning over in your head how you would tell Cornelius what happened. You'd made a pact with a demon to spare your life. . .but the demon was on campus. He was a threat. He had power. A lot of power.

The moment you started to consider telling them it was Towa, you screamed out in pain. Electricity ran through your very existence, not just your body but your soul too. A warning.

You caught your breath where you collapsed in the grass, one of the anomalous animals nervously sniffing at you until your rising startled it into fleeing. Right. You couldn't share who the demon was. But you could say there had been one and that your life was safe now. . that you were aware of.

Once your shaking legs were steady and the phantom pain subsided, you made your way out into the main grounds and towards the main building. It was probably important that you share the news. . .whether or not it was good.

#towa otonashi #tokyo debunker fanfic #I KNOW I SAID I SUSPECT KAITO BUT CONSIDER MY OTHER SUSPECT. . .TOWA.#tokyo debunker #danie yells at tokyo debunker #danie yells writing

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dreamsb0u · 2 years ago

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cur x omega

Maybe. We’ll see, depends on how Bou feels about the matter.

@dreamsb0u ?

#Maybe #ok but fr cur doesn’t know what a crush is #its Still cute tho I would draw that #omega cross #cur #hound cross #omega x cur …?!#Whaddyou think Tumblr user Fandomsoda?

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luvtonique · 1 month ago

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"Jay whaddyou think of this character?" they ask before showing me a lanky, sleepy, horrendously skinny girl with dark powers who twitches when she moves and is a complete cunt in her source material.

May as well go "Hey I heard you like food, what are your thoughts on DELICIOUS food?"

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spnregular · 1 month ago

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do the shampoo fic

like my wafflehouse hashbrowns is the second installment in my "bad touch" series, named for the bloodhound gang song. this is a dom!dean fic where lol you just have to hear me out!!!!!!! dom!dean is a silly concept but when the stars align it like rlly hits. tagging @ragdollsammy bc they asked about this as well!

Dean cobbled a shopping list together in his mind while running his fingers through Cas’s chest and arm hair. It was nice that Cas slept now. Dean could look at him in peace.

crucially dom!dean is about cas btw, this is about cas thinking it's hot

Once he really couldn’t deny the need to piss, Dean finally got up, pressing a kiss to Cas’s temple as he rose. Dean knew Cas wasn’t going too far. He’d be waiting when Dean came home.

In my perfect world, cas and dean have the bunker to themselves. Dean is in full housewife mode nesting and making sure everything is perfect for his man and his boys when theyre in town. Also dean knows everything ok, no one gets anything by him bc he buys everything! Also i despite how i get on dean’s case all the time, i spend a lot of time also thinking about how soft destiel can be once dean lets go of other things. like once he stops hunting and isnt around sam all the time.

Dean paced up and down the aisle grabbing at dumb shit. Sam and Eileen were in town for the weekend so Dean knew he’d have to pick up some extra stuff. For all that Dean stole a little ointment from time to time, Sam was a fucking menace with hair stuff. Dean couldn’t believe how much product went in to maintaining that fucking mop of his. Equally unbelievable, was how prissy Sam could get about brands. It all had to be good for the environment, no chemicals n’ shit. All code for expensive. Dean sighed before taking his phone out.

Dean and gender….. Also dean really does believe sam is a lil self centered lmao he’s so crazy

Sam huffed out a laugh, “Dean, you still use three-in-one. That stuff sucks.”

“Then tell me why I was always running out of it for the entire year of 2013,” Dean clapped back.

So dean uses three in one bc men shouldnt have more than two soaps at a time obviously and 2013 is an attempt at referencing sam’s s8 hair because he was soooooo beautiful lmfao like they should have kept that stylist around.

Dean blinked. Cas was terrible at shopping. “Whaddyou mean ‘Cas got you some stuff’?”

Remember when cas knocked over half a gas station trying to put together an apology basket for his man….

“He, uh,” Sam hesitated, “He’s already got some stuff that’s really good. Organic and local.”

When cas showed sam how to jerk off the plant, sam almost had a heart attack bc i believe that cas was jerking that thang silly. Actually sam’s reaction is what clued cas into it being akin to an erotic experience for humans (cas would already find it erotic). But here, sam does not want dean to know that he found cas harvesting the plant super horny bc dean can be a lil possessive. That’s dean’s angel u kno…..

“Whatever, Dean,” Sam said, “See you back at the bunker. You’re out of Cheerios, by the way.”

I like to laugh abt cereal discourse

“You remembered the bags this time,” Cas said, smiling more with his eyes than his mouth, “Sam will be pleased.”

Dean grunted in response before leaning in to kiss Cas on the cheek, “Y’wanna help me get this all put away?”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas placed his book face down, splayed out along the already cracked spine.

“You know, he ain’t gonna be too pleased when he sees you been practically spatchcocking his books,” Dean said as he worked, mentally cataloging each dry good and dairy product. This should last a few days despite the few extra mouths.

“Oh, well,” Cas said, not pausing a bit as he moved through the kitchen.

They both love sam a lot, but also cas doesn’t give a shit what sam thinks whereas dean kinda does.

Dean snorted. They moved in the sort of quiet that only came from hard-earned understanding. The sort of trust you had to fight for. What they had wasn’t perfect– still plenty of bumps in the road, still plenty of loud fights and disappearing and saying shit they didnt’t really mean– but they fucking worked for it.

Dean smiled to himself when they finished. Everything was squared away where it should be: snack cupboard overflowing, fruit bowl filled for Sam, and Dean’s hip glued to the back of Cas’s ass as he pulled him in for a hug.

Everything is by dean’s design….. As it should be obviously…..

“Hey, you gone shopping recently?”

Cas pulled back to look up at Dean, “No. You hate when I go shopping without you.”

Dean does not think cas is capable of getting the right stuff at the store and has Made This Known. Not great lol, but cas is fine to defer to dean’s greater wisdom of humanity anyway.

Cas tilted his head, “He’s not mooching, Dean. There is plenty to go around. You’re welcome to some if you’d like. I’ve noticed that you like how it smells.”

Dean felt his neck heat up, “You noticed me sniffin’ you?”

Cas nodded, doing that eye smile thing again. Dean’s stomach swooped.

“It’s comforting,” Cas said.

I got really soft in my chest writing this bit because well, theyre in love…. And doing cute things….

What Cas called a garden, most would call a patch of weeds. It sat about a quarter of a mile away from the bunker, nestled away in the woods. When Cas said he wanted a garden, Dean pictured sunflowers, rose bushes, maybe some zucchini. Something more like what you’d see in a Thomas Kincade calendar. The greenery that Cas cultivated… was a little different from that.

So gardening is a total made up fanon cas bit that i employed just to make this fic work. Im not opposed to most fanon cas headcanons like gardening or reading i just think that if you do it it should be weird. Like i think cas would be so intimately aware of what he puts in his compost and would like watch it decompose. Another thing he would find erotic.

Dean could never make heads or tails of it. Cas insisted that most everything was native to the area, no invasives, whatever that meant, but it just looked like a mess of weird leaves and nasty mushroom logs. Sure there were flowers, but nothing Dean knew the name of. Once, Dean asked if anything was poisonous and Cas told him not to touch anything. Didn’t have to tell Dean twice.

Cas clearly seemed to know where and what everything was because he led Dean through it all, all confident. He quietly instructed Dean to watch his step every so often. Don’t touch those flowers. Be careful of the bees. There were mole holes there, be careful.

Yeah, Dean didn’t get it but it made him fuzzy inside that Cas did.

Have you heard that dean thinks cas is a cute lil guy…….

“This thing’s from Hawaii?” Dean leaned in over Cas. It did smell really good, “Thought you were doin’ a native only garden?”

“The plant originates in South Asia, if I recall,” Cas trailed his thumb up and down the fat, thick ridges of the pinecone. Dean blinked fast when he saw Cas’s thumb coming away shiny, “And mostly native.”

I didnt add this detail but cas uses what’s left of his grace to keep the garden going. Keeping a shampoo ginger plant alive in a heavily shaded forest would be nigh impossible without divine intervention.

Something flashed in Cas’s eyes, “Generally, I come to you for a ‘little tug’. But, yes, I harvest the gel for my hair regularly.” With his clean hand, he dug into his pocket to pull out an empty bottle. He rubbed his hand along the rim, collecting what he could and letting the rest fall.

This may be a dom dean fic, but honestly cas does know how to push dean’s buttons. Like theyre dog4dog you know. Also i feel like i did cas a lil ooc with the “i come to you for a lil tug” line bc i dont think cas is one for wordplay but i wanted to get him flirting

Dean raised an eyebrow. Cas was pulling out all the stops here, big blue eyes, mouth parted, hair tousled, just begging for Dean’s fingers to grip and run through it. The fucking kneeling on the ground. Dean was getting played, he knew he was getting played.

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean said, a lazy smile slowly sprawling across his face, “Where do you want me?”

Cas absolutely knows that dean gets a kick out of teaching him stuff and well cas likes it too. Nevermind that cas is a capable person (debatable in dean’s mind), cas likes knowing that he’s doing what dean wants.

Cas angled the bottle to follow their hands, collecting what he could. Almost seemed pointless. The plant was so wet, just gushing out in a constant stream of sticky, tacky fluid. Dean took in a sharp breath when Cas rearranged their fingers, so slightly, just to run his wet thumb along the broadside of Dean’s wrist. Their hands were almost at the tip, so close, and the bottle was almost full. Some of it splashed onto Dean’s boots and the ground beneath them was soaked, the liquid pooling deep. Dean’s mouth parted to exhale, his tongue heavy between his teeth.

So, i love to make the mundane erotic and i get so horny about plants lmfao.

Dean placed his other hand on Cas’s head and dabbed lightly at the gel collecting along his hairline. Cas looked up at him, his face open and eyes wanting. They closed so slowly when Dean’s hands moved, scratching his scalp and cupping the back of his head. Dean’s dick twitched at the sight.

Cas grunted and threw his head back, clearly reveling in the feeling of Dean’s touch. More gel fell down his forehead and neck. Dean’s hand tightened in his hair and he tugged lightly.

“Don’t move unless I say you can,” Dean said, pulling Cas’s head forward.

Ok here’s where the domming begins. Dean LOVES to take care of things. He knows what’s best and he likes knowing that he can do something other than hurt people. He looooves to provide. But, you gotta follow the rules, you gotta do it right. Also dean loves to Look at the Angel. Especially when he’s covered in plant come (see title: i want you smothered want you covered like my wafflehouse hashbrowns)

“You know how I take care of my things. Keep ‘em clean, fine tuned,” Dean said, “Just like Baby.”

Cas’s eyes widened, nodding in agreement with Dean.

“You like that?” Dean asked, his eyes hooded.

Cas nodded again. His eyes were so beautiful, framed in dark, wet lashes. Fuck– Cas was so beautiful, face flushed, sopping, dripping wet, hair mussed and wrapped around Dean’s fingers. He was looking up at Dean like he was waiting for a miracle to unfold. Dean bit his lip.

“I’m gonna take care of you just like that, okay?” Dean said and tugged on Cas’s hair, finally pulling him closer, “You gonna let me?”

Cas, jaw slack and shoulders relaxed, whispered out, “Of course.”

So the baby comparison lol. This seems to be why people love this fic and i must confess, this is an idea inspired by the issues series by everandanon. In the third installment of the series, cas is watching dean fuss and smile over trinkets from his childhood and cas wants to be something that dean cherishes and covets and keeps tucked away in a similar way. And then they have very very intense sex, you should read that series it’s very good. But reading that was sort of a eureka moment for me like cas wants dean to want to keep him. He wants to be dean’s special guy and he wants dean to care for him like a special treasure. And what possession does dean care for the most? His car. Dean’s car is like a religious idol to him, he worships it. So now cas is hearing that he’s in the same category as dean’s most precious and most reliable possession? He’s finna bust a nut.

Dean ran his hands through Cas’s soapy, wet hair so slow. When you had the opportunity to take care of an angel, you had to do it right. Dean scratched harder when Cas moaned, rubbed softer when Cas moaned. Dean was driving, but Cas was wayfinding.

Before long, Dean couldn’t pretend that he hadn’t washed every inch of Cas’s head at least three times over. He couldn’t ignore the ache in his groin either, the way his dick pulsed with every little sound Cas made.

Dean also washes baby like this, over and over and he gets aroused by it. Caring for things makes him feel so good, so important. He likes to think he’s the only one who can really take care of the ones he loves in the right way. Doing stuff like this helps him feel that way.

Cas opened his mouth wide to fit as much of Dean as he could in his mouth. Dean’s dick lay on Cas’s tongue, undoubtedly heavy and fat. The wet heat of Cas’s tongue, the tiny movements pressed against the underside of Dean’s dick, had Dean feeling lightheaded. Cas didn’t move, didn’t suck, didn’t bob his head. Dean moved his hand in Cas’s hair again, prompting a long moan from Cas. The vibration of it took the air right from Dean’s lungs and he tugged on Cas’s hair. It was a fuckin’ feedback loop; the more Dean pulled and massaged the more Cas moaned and groaned and the more Dean pulled and his chest heaved.

“Fuck, angel,” Dean said, “Keep it together.”

The short cockwarming portion of this fic is bc i like to think abt dean having trouble maintaining an erection. But the combination of cas’s mouth and cas doing what he’s told?? He’s got this one. Also this is very fun for cas bc he wants to go to town on that thang so bad but the tension and anticipation of dean telling him what to do just wins over.

“I’m gonna keep drivin’, okay?” Dean said, “Don’t. Don’t move, okay?”

Cas nodded so slightly, barely moving his head, but even that small action had Dean’s balls aching.

Driving a car is like having sex to dean and vice versa of course. Drivers are the ones in total control and it’s their job to be in charge and keep everyone safe and happy.

Cas’s hands gripped the bottoms of his jeans, and even though that counted as moving, Dean let him have it. Sent a rush through Dean how much Cas liked it, how it made him handsy. When they first got together, Dean was afraid to touch the guy– thought he’d smother and choke him. Imagine if Dean realized ten years ago that Cas wasn’t above breaking any rules, if it meant he’d get to touch Dean.

Destiel always gets me bc dean thinks he’s gonna hurt everyone but he doesnt realize that cas is a glutton for pain. And well yeah dean hurts cas a lot but cas….. He wants it lmao. Dean’s love IS smothering, it’s like freakin smoke, pervasive and you can really choke on it. But that’s sort of what cas is looking for, something all consuming that he can commit his entire being to. Two guys who love codependence…. well dean doesnt like it per se, but c'est la vie

“Stay with me, sweetheart,” Dean said, “Move your hand.”

“W-Wha–” Cas breathed out.

“On the red thing,” Dean said, slowing his pace on Cas’s dick, “Jerk off the flower for me.”

Purely horny reasoning here. Dean really likes watching cas engage in sexual acts even if theyre not with him (see life skills by ilovehowyouletmefall). Dean has such complicated feelings towards sex. This flower thing is perfect to watch bc it’s like a dick so dean can see his own dick in cas’s hand but ALSO it’s a flower…. Delicate…. It can get really beat up if you’re too rough with it…. Having a gender moment…..

Cas immediately latched onto Dean’s neck, sucking and biting hard. Dean sharply inhaled, his heart hammering in his chest. He reached his hand further into Cas’s pants to cup his balls. Things were so tight, Dean wasn’t sure how he hadn’t busted his load yet. He moved his hand back to Cas’s dick and squeezed hard again. Cas moaned into his neck and bit at the at bend of Dean’s jaw, licking and sucking like his life depended on it. His hand still worked hard at the plant, bruising its red flesh. Dean didn’t think Cas would be able to reuse this particular bloom again. The ridges were crumpled and the whole thing was falling apart. Cas shook under Dean’s hands.

Dean likes to be KISSED and LATCHED onto…. Mommy moment…. And he likes that cas is fucking the flower up, losing control (this is a thing for me, i love when cas loses control with dean)

“Come on,” Dean whispered into Cas’s ear, nipping at the lobe, “I got you.”

Cas moaned Dean’s name. The sound was almost a sob, but Dean couldn’t see his face to be sure. Dean squeezed Cas’s dick harder, back to that same crushing pressure. Dean’s hand was starting to chafe, but he didn’t want to let go of Cas to get more gel, didn’t want to stop touching him, didn’t want to stop hearing him cry out and tremble.

This is a thing for them both. Dean HAS cas. Like cas belongs to dean meaning dean is gonna take care of him and dean is gonna make sure that it’s gonna be okay even when things seem overwhelming.

Cas’s arms immediately wrapped Dean and he pressed their lips into a crushing kiss. Dean let him have his way, opening his mouth wide. He rubbed Cas’s back, up and down, up and down, all soft and shit. Every time it got intense, they always made sure to follow it up with the soft shit. Turned Cas into angelic pudding every time.

It’s not “aftercare” (it is) but dean doesn’t know bdsm rules. They have never negotiated a kink onnce in their lives. They just know it feels nice to be sweet on each other. :)

Dinner was great, as it always was when Dean had any control over it. He made something for everyone, letting the pride wash over him as everyone smiled into their plates, getting up from the table with full bellies. Even though Sam always gave Dean shit for unbuckling his belt at dinner, Dean caught him doing the same fuckin’ shit. It was good.

Everybody helped clear the table, but somehow Sam and Dean got stuck doin’ dishes, Cas and Eileen making themselves conveniently scarce when the time came. Secretly, Dean was pretty okay with that. Reminded him of all the small and simple moments they used to have, between all the bullshit.

Dean’s rose colored glasses on the past lmao. Also dean believes he knows what everyone wants and it only gets worse when he’s right.

“Yeah, but you tell her you were jerkin’ it with, Cas?”

“Dean!” Sam almost dropped the plate in his hands.

“Hey, I don’t have any problems with it!” Dean shrugged, biting the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing, “But maybe Eileen might not like you fondling some aka pooki plant with my man.”

Dean thinks it’s funny bc obviously sam knows the optics of the situation. If dean had walked in on cas giving sam a demonstration he would have no reacted so well imo. Ive written a smubble where sam and dean share cas, but that is something i think works best in a pre season 9 world.

“Now you’re being racist,” Sam said. “Oh, now I can’t call out my brother when he plays slippery pickle with a guy I’m fucking,” Dean said, rolling his eyes, “Because of woke.”

absolutely ridiculous of me but i love thinking about dean as a sort of modern archie bunker type character. he knows the whole thing is ridiculous here but he loves to push sam's buttons lol

#directors cut #my fic

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