#almost every thought i have about them boils down to this

[cock-guillotine]

webgott thesis statement

[medicinemane]

The world is set on prescriptivism and... it doesn't jive with me

[euthymiya]

“Have you ever wondered where we’ll get married?”

Your question comes out of nowhere—not much catches Sukuna off guard, but this question manages to make him pause. His eyes don’t leave the screen of his phone, thumb swiping along as he sits beside you. You drag a finger along his tattooed arm, grinning as he clicks his teeth.

“Who said I want to marry you?” He grunts.

You smile wider. It’s a knowing, amused little thing that stretches over the contours of your face like you know better. (You do. Sukuna is better at lying than telling the truth, but you’re even better at picking apart every little fib for the honesty he doesn’t want you to know. You wonder if he realizes that.)

“Who else would you marry?” You snort, “that girl from the convenience store? She has the hots for you, y’know.”

You nudge him with your shoulder, biting back a laugh when his lips curl into an almost irritated sneer as he scoffs. “She’s ugly.”

“Harsh,” you pretend to wince in sympathy, “then the waitress at that cafe? Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed her eye your tattoos.”

“Too fuckin’ whiny. Her voice makes my eardrums bleed.”

You can count on one hand the number of people Sukuna tolerates—and yes, it’s important to note that he tolerates people. He doesn’t really like anyone. He likes you, though. You’re a little confident about that because when your fingers slip under his shirt to glide against his bare chest, he lets you. He leans into it, too.

It’s because he likes you.

“Oh!” You gasp, snapping your finger like you’ve just thought of the perfect idea, “that girl from the bakery? She gives you free stuff all the time. I love it when I get to eat free bread, don’t you?”

“No. She’s a pushover. It’s pathetic.”

“We’ll never get you a wife at this rate,” you sigh dramatically, shaking your head. You look almost—almost—saddened by the idea. And then you perk up, “what about we search for a husband for me, instead? How about that guy from—”

“What the fuck are you on about?” He turns his head to glare at you. He’s annoyed—you can tell because his eyes are narrowed and his jaw is clenched. You can also tell because his heart is beating under your hand. One thump after the other. Faster, faster.

“Well I have to find someone if you won’t do it,” you pout. “I want a wedding in Okinawa. Know any guys who don’t mind getting married in Okinawa?”

“No,” he growls. His heart is still beating. Faster, faster.

“Then I’m doomed,” you collapse against the couch, theatrically draping an arm over your face as you woefully add, “my big fat Okinawa wedding dreams broken. What ever—”

“Enough,” he hisses. He grabs your hand, inspects the fingers for a moment before casually tossing it back onto your lap as he mumbles, “you can have your stupid wedding if it shuts you up. And don’t talk to that guy ever again.”

And then he’s back to scrolling through his phone, thumb gliding across the screen as you curl into his side with a satisfied grin. Sukuna doesn’t like anyone. He could make a list of all the reasons why.

It all boils down to the fact that none of them are you.

“Perfect,” you say excitedly, “we’ll get married in Okinawa, then. Here are the rings I had in mind—pay attention, okay?”

sometimes you just have to gaslight your feral bf into marriage, you know?

[lizardho]

I came out to my dad as bisexual at 14 and I was PANICKED because I had a crush on a guy in my Boy Scout troop and thought I was Going To Hell Forever and he was so kind and understanding of my distress, but he had NO idea what bisexuality was. He just said “yeah but you like girls too? This is normal. Everyone is like this.” And I love my dad and trust him with my life to this day and the idea that the concept of bisexuality had not occurred to him had not occurred to me so I put it off.

By 16 though I had a crush on like THREE boys. Three entire boys in my Boy Scout troop. I felt like my sin was slowly advancing, until like an untreated cancer it had become metastatic. I remember bawling my L’il limp-wristed sissy eyes out in his big rumbly truck on the way home from a scout meeting and him telling me that it was OK, that he still loved me if I was gay, but that he knew I wasn’t gay because I still had crushes on women and that meant I was straight. I didn’t quite know how to explain that those felt *~*different*~* and that I felt like I was losing a fight to evil inside me but I again felt comforted by his reassurances and his genuine fatherly love.

At 18 I was like “hey I’m realizing all my friends are going on missions. I don’t wanna do that. Idk how to say that and I don’t have a ‘good enough’ reason to not wanna go.” So I just put it off. Again, my parents were extremely supportive of the information I gave them (I blamed it on perpetually forgetting to start the paperwork.) and one day my mom texted me that she had done the paperwork for me! And that all I needed was to get a physical! So I did that (it was awkward af tbh, my hernia check was done by a trainee doctor and she spent like 3 minutes fishing around my inguinal canals before her attending rescued me) and was sent to Mexico City where I learned that in addition to dipshit himbos with strong hands and scruffy guys with artistic hearts I was REALLY into chubby Latin men with strong personalities who bullied me a little when I lived in Mexico.

I remember my first companion got annoyed with me during an argument and said we were just gonna wrestle and whoever won the wrestling match won the argument (I stg I am dead serious this happened.) I was like…SWEATING when he tore off his tie and threw his white button-down shirt onto the ground (I won btw, don’t ask me how).

I remember one of my companions with this really intense, almost manic energy telling me that he was gonna make sure I was safe in a new area I didn’t know very well. He cooked breakfast for me and we’d go shopping together on P-Days and in the mornings before breakfast he’d jog around and do pull-ups with his shirt off and I’d do anything but look at him because my face would break out in a sweat so intense he’d think I was crying and come over to see if I was OK and somehow make it worse. He let me play D&D with myself in the evenings even though it was against mission rules because he knew how lonely and stressed I was.

I remember one of my companions was a big chubby man with a loud voice and a great sense of humor. He was kind and direct when addressing conflicts with me, and always bragged about how he knew the secrets of women’s minds and it felt like he really did since it almost always boiled down to “Treat Them Like People and Love Them a Lot. Don’t Stop Being A Person For Them. Also Eat Them Out Sloppy Style.” Our P-Day activities sometimes felt like dates, and it seemed like he was more attentive to my emotional state than I was since he was always the first to suggest we slow down our Divinely Mandated, God-Ordained, Super Sacred Work and Wonder to get a snack or check out a Pawn Shop (I love Pawn Shops).

I remember another companion who asked me to bully him every time he did something against his goal of losing weight. It was like he gave me Carte Blanche to take out my crush on him by being a nuisance and I LOVED that. I remember having a breakdown one day after we’d spent the afternoon frantically cleaning our disgusting-barely-habitable mission house to make it look less vile that it was (not our fault imo?) and I started bawling and he pulled me into a hug and he smelled good and he told me he knew it wasn’t just the house and that I was mad at him for being a Huge Dickhead for about a week (true) and that he would work on it. (He’s also a huge chaser but that’s a separate thing.)

I remember one of my companions waking up early (and our schedule is already built for sleep deprivation) to make me a “birthday cake” from knock-off Nutella and bread. He used matches for candles and woke me up, lit the ‘candles,’ pulled them out, then smashed it in my face and took a bunch of pictures while I was still madrugada and disoriented as fuck. He had the same sense of humor as one of my HS crushes and I could push his buttons pretty easily which was so fun.

I came home from my mission and started back at BYU where I became actively and aggressively suicidal. I had a stalker the year I moved up there and my dad’s solution to that was to get me a gun. I know he wouldn’t have bought me a gun if he could have read my mind, but I had a loaded pistol under my bed during a trifecta faith/sexuality/gender crisis and that was not helpful. I remember that the day I decided to kill myself I figured I’d call the BYU CAPS and see if I could get into therapy because it felt like what I was “supposed to do” so I could check my suicide boxes. My therapist was the guy who’d helped me pick a major the year before and was this drop-dead gorgeous Hawaiian man who cried when I told him how I’d been feeling.

A few weeks into therapy I met another stunning man with soft eyes and a scruffy illegal-at-BYU beard he kept pushing his luck with. He was funny, kind, patient, married, and wouldn’t give me the time of day if he knew I was crushing on him. We were in my history of psych class, which was inarguably the worst psych class I have ever had, and we studied together for every assignment and test and I realized that my feelings for him and for all the men I’d already mentioned were in direct conflict with my faith and relationship with God. My already agonizing spiritual conflict became even more wretched and as a result of this plus some other tightly-packed experiences with Mormonisms bullshit, I left the church.

After leaving the church I decided to move back to AZ and transfer to ASU. My mom helped me get a dog since I think it had started to dawn on my family that my mental health was barely getting me through the day, and she knew that we both loved dogs. Madi made my last year at BYU livable while I got my shit together and transferred. In that last year, I went on a date with quite possibly the only semi-openly-out trans person on BYU campus. It was not a great date imo, I was not doing well, but the person I spoke with was fun and fascinating and talked to me about Gender Dysphoria and it really cemented my need to go. To leave and never come back to that fucking school.

I started at ASU a month after my last semester at BYU and within a very short time frame it felt like I was coming back together, like a puzzle magically putting itself together in an environment that wasn’t slowly draining that puzzle’s will to live.

On the 4th of July, the year I started at ASU, I saw a transition timeline photo of a gorgeous happy beautiful happy radiant happy woman and her former Mormon missionary self and I realized the light that was on in her eyes was the light that was off in mine. I looked into transitioning for 3 days, sleeping about 10 hours total during that time. I started talking to other trans people on Reddit (one of whom is now my beautiful fiancée @cintailed) and after about a month of making preparations to be disowned and kicked out, something I was not sure would happen but was ready to go through to Turn On The Lights, I came out to my family and it was amazing. I started HRT a month after that. I secretly dated some dorky guys for about a year while I applied to grad schools. I got into a great grad school for me and my needs. I got FFS. I did my trainings and classes. Me and my fiancée moved in together after some LDR shenanigans. We’ve lived together now for 4 years of basically marital bliss. We have a cat named Grandmother Esmeralda Weatherwax who bites the hell out of my feet about three times a day. My bi-cycle continues to be part of my life but now it’s not as scary. Baby gays in my life have started to look to me for advice. Idk how this all happened so fast. When the years, months, weeks, days, and hours seems to crawl by so slowly now they are rushing past me so fast it’s almost bewildering. Whereas before I felt like I was living on borrowed time, past my ‘expiration date,’ now it feels like I can Fucking Breathe. I’m training myself to slow down now and it feels worth it to Live In The Moment.

Idk why I wrote this. Idk why these thoughts only seem to come up on Sundays when I’m supposed to be writing my dissertation. Idk why I’m crying rn or why I feel so happy. I’m gonna post this shit then get on with my dissertation I guess. Read more Terry Pratchett and give yourselves the time you need. Get a pet. Talk to someone. Re-examine the events that brought you here. Be gayer. Love y’all 💕

[pellucid-constellations]

If You Cared to Ask

Azriel hasn't been listening. You got hurt. Sometimes, an argument can't be boiled down to just one instance.

Part 2

“You never listen! I have tried over and over to get you to understand but it’s like you don’t even care.”

Azriel’s brow twitched in irritation, the only tell on his otherwise passive face. “That is not true. We have sat down and discussed this at length, y/n. I listen.” 

You laughed, an incredulous pressure weighing down your shoulders. “Okay, fine. You listen, but you never hear me, Azriel! I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall most of the time.” 

“I can reiterate every word you’ve ever said to me. I hear you and I listen to you.” 

Anger twisted through your gut at his nonchalance. You clenched and unclenched your fists and tried to ignore the heat slowly encroaching upon your ability to remain composed. Although, compared to Azriel, you were not even close to the picture of calm. 

“Tell me why it bothers me then,” you seethed through clenched teeth. “Reiterate it for me, Shadowsinger.” 

Azriel’s jaw shifted as he clasped his hands together in his lap, the faelight in the kitchen clashing harshly with the planes of his face. He leaned back in his chair and let out a tortured sigh that almost sent you reeling. 

“You seem to believe,” Azriel began, his voice a low drawl. “That I am blatantly avoiding you—that I am choosing to serve my high lord in place of spending time with you. Both of which, I am not doing. I simply have a duty to this court, y/n. You know that.” 

“Oh, fuck you, Azriel,” you rolled your eyes. “Making this about duty and honor. Making me seem like I’m the crazy one for being angry when you promised me—” 

“You know there is little I can do about promises,” Azriel snapped, a hint of anger finally showing through in the darkness of his eyes. “You knew when we were mated that I have responsibilities that go beyond our relationship.” 

You pushed back from your seat at the table and set to pacing in the kitchen, fighting the urge to tug at the roots of your hair. “Yes, obviously, Azriel, but this was so important to me. I needed you there and this isn’t the first time I’ve been abandoned without even a word.” 

“Abandoned,” Azriel scoffed. “I would hardly call not showing up to your clinic at the camps one day abandoning you. Rhys needed me to—” 

“I needed you!” you shouted, your hands pressed to the countertops and your gaze frantic as you stared at Azriel’s unmoving figure. “I needed you, Azriel. I had every eye on me in that camp and when Devlon’s men had me yanked from the clinic for what I was doing I needed you to—” 

“He did what?” 

“Oh, don’t act like you care now.” You waved off the staunch posture he had adopted and rolled your eyes for a second time at the piercing hatred that had taken over his expression. “Don’t you dare act like you have the right.” 

“You are my mate, y/n. If anyone put their hands on you—” 

“Well, they did. Bruised up my arms and everything. But you were so busy with your duty to your high lord that you couldn’t give a shit until after I was thrown into the mud surrounded by the women I was supposed to be helping up there.” 

Azriel’s hands turned white as he clenched them in his lap. His lashes fluttered and his brow furrowed and he looked utterly lost at the situation—unable to formulate any kind of response to what could be considered his failure. 

“I thought you were simply setting up the back rooms. I didn’t know you were starting the practice or speaking to the camp,” he croaked, eyes downcast and searching the floor. 

“Except I told you I was. I told you two weeks ago and then again right before I left.” 

“I—I can’t remember you saying that.” 

“Of course you can’t. Because if it isn’t Rhys giving you orders or Cassian leading training you’re absent. You stand right in front of me and you’re not even here.”

Azriel finally looked up from the ground and met your eyes with the same torture his sigh made you privy to earlier. But this time it was rooted in something else—this time, he seemed to finally grasp the weight behind your words. 

But you were utterly sick of trying to get him to this point. “I’m so sorry, my love,” he expressed, pain in the furrow of his brow. “I hadn’t realized—with Rhys just returning to Velaris I’ve been so caught up in—” 

“I’m sorry too,” you cut him off. 

Azriel froze. “What?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek and felt the dread begin to rise. You knew you were going to hate this part, but you hadn’t expected Azriel to apologize. He hadn’t apologized for anything in months. You’d been alone in this relationship and he chose the day you’d packed your bags to show remorse.

“I can’t do this, Azriel. Not right now.” 

“Can’t do what?” 

The silence in the kitchen was oppressive. Azriel had leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and you were on the other side of the kitchen counter, protected by a barrier you knew you should have put up weeks ago. Your eyes never left his. 

“I can’t do this with you.” 

Azriel breathed in sharply, his eyes widening. “No,” he stressed, heaving up from the chair. “No, y/n, don’t—what do you mean you can’t do this? Explain it to me.” 

Your mate attempted to round the counter and reach for you, but you weren’t going to accept the affection…not when you had been begging for it for months. Not when he was only ready to give it to you now.

You backpeddled until you reached the hall. Azriel didn’t follow, afraid you would take off. 

“I’ve been telling you this was a problem for months now. I thought it was just an adjustment period—I knew that having Rhys back would change things at first and I was okay with that. Your brother returned from hell and you needed to be there to support him. To support your family. 

“But I’m your family, too. And you forgot that. I can’t—I can’t be relying on someone like that right now. I’m doing too much at the camps for you to… forget about me so easily. I can’t keep building you up in my mind just to be disappointed and hurt.” 

Azriel's jaw quivered. 

“Emotionally and physically. I would’ve asked someone else to come to the clinic with me yesterday, but I chose you. And you forgot about me.” 

Azirel looked as if he’d been punched in the stomach, his shoulders caving in with his anguished breath out. You pressed your lips together as you watched him, all of your anger morphing into a twisted sort of guilt that didn’t sit right in your gut. 

“Please,” Azriel whispered. His hands shook at his side. “Please, I’m so sorry, my love. I never wanted—Please, don’t leave me.” 

“You don’t get to have both, Azriel.” Your voice was as weak as his. “You don’t get to have me and treat me like I’m something you deal with on the side. I matter more than— 

Azriel shook his head and broke through your words. “You matter more than anything. I’ve been a fool. I know I’m an ass. Please, let me fix this, my love. Please don’t leave.” 

You clenched your fists so hard your nails embedded into your palms. 

“I need time to be alone.” 

Azriel was quick to nod. “I’ll give it to you. I’ll leave and—” 

“No, I need… more time than that. I have some things packed. I’ll be back, but… I need to leave. I can’t think clearly around you.” 

A choked cry left Azriel’s throat and the sound burned at your waterline. “Where?” 

You only shook your head. 

“Tell me where. Please. How am I supposed to know you’re safe?” 

“How were you supposed to know before?” 

Part 2

[zzencat]

Your Future Spouse As A Mythical Creature + Qualities - ⏳

Welcome to the spooky season folks!! Thought this would be a pretty lightweight and goofy type of reading as we settle in. What are your FS’s qualities? Toxic habits?

Choose wisely. Applicable to future lover or spouse.

Warnings: super long read, suggestive comments (bordering NSFW), some exaggerated details for the fun of it (but the theme and characteristics are still consistent otherwise), toxic tendencies

🥀 THE RITUAL: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out.

———————————————————————

Pile 1 | The Werewolf

Perfectionistic as hell, likely a planner

The horniness comes and stays fellas…

Extremely careful before decision making, yet impatient (more mentally)

Hides what they really feel. Has a hard time expressing their emotions through words, so your person (well, half-person) shows you instead

Might be wealthy or does very well w/ business or business partners

ALWAYS thinks before they act

very PRIMAL tendencies; will bust major nuts when persuading you to be bred…literally. the need to breed you can become suffocating as it seeps into small actions of daily life. will never stop bugging you about it. eventually, these efforts will increase and become more desperate (but hey, if you like that, go for it 😳)

^^the thought of having a family with you gets them down real bad

EXTREMELY overprotective and possessive over how revealing your clothes might be. don’t be surprised if they finally let you out of the house after you choose to wear a hazmat suit

• will do anything for you!!!! provide food, shelter, money… as long as you depend on them, they feel at their highest.

•^^ this can also indicate an incessant need for control and control over you as well

• typically chooses the safe route; sticks to routes they’re already familiar with and practicality

•^^polite with people or at least acts like a civil person, but is easily misjudged regardless

• kind of old school and can be boring; follows reserved traditions very well

• actually is a beast in the sheets, but prob only does vanilla positions

• is very, very hesitant about letting you go out at night and will bust balls to get you to stay inside

• can get overly paranoid over small things that can potentially harm you

slow, sensual, deep lovemaking sometimes—rough and wild, sloppy and fast at others—just totally unable to control themselves. this is bc they exercise so much control during the day that nights leading up to the full moon, or on the night of, are relentless. Also likes doin’ the dirty in the kitchen (i also see boiling soup and an apron if those have any significance)

grumpy in the morning hahaha. grumpy when you order them to do anything for you, but they’ll do it anyway

When they love, they LOVE. Extremely big hearts and easily empathetic, but never/rarely shows it

for some reason, your fs has a solution or piece of advice for every problem in existence

strong or bold looking, big and broad, intimidating, or a very tall person. might have a resting bitch face

a very good listener

• full moons are equivalent to menstrual cycles where their senses are heightened by tenfold, sensitive to everything in their surroundings (ex: ears perk up to sounds as unnoticeable as leaves rustling…), more emotionally reactive, a ceaseless desire for sex everyday—which gets worse as the full moon approaches 🙈—hastier movements, increased moodiness and appetite, goes out hunting more often. 50/50 have a messier diet or a more strict one

• structured or routined day to day

• has probably talked/will probably talk about raising a family with you at least once, becoming more adamant about it over time

• can seem very insensitive or come off as an asshole at times

• EXTREMELY observant; almost nothing gets past their eyes. It’s almost like an intense OCD thing. Pretty sure a lot of FS in this pile are control freaks or have very specific triggers

• can smell when you’re aroused. if you deal with periods, they know exactly what phase you’re in and keep track of monthly cycles. this is also how they can keep an eye on your fertility and “breedability” levels. likely to show clinginess during these times and try to make moves on you. (it’s a manipulation tactic, don’t fall for it!! 😳)

•^^when you get aroused, they get aroused. they’ll decide to make a move depending on the circumstances

• they have good control and discipline over themselves in general. But they’re still prone to control issues, esp over other people, or obsessiveness

Definitely an overthinker. They don’t like to be vulnerable emotionally. It’s very hard to get close to this person, and even harder to open up

doesn’t care about your “flaws” and doesn’t notice until you point them out; will be genuinely surprised to hear you have insecurities, bc to your fs, there’s no such thing. they don’t understand how you could feel that way about yourself or certain things about yourself

In some kind of leadership role (in work, relationship, or the home) or in a high enough position to give and support. Dominant in the sheets—stubbornly prefers to be

Loves to travel or would travel more if they could

Extremely adaptable and an all rounder; does well under pressure and in uncomfortable situations/environments

Likes bantering and stirring things up on purpose sometimes. Sometimes they’re feelin kinda bratty and will instigate. They fight just to fight. They’re usually quiet, reserved, or introverted

• deep down they know this and they’d even admit it to you if you asked, but they’d be totally onboard with you never going outside again and just staying in the house (it’s a possessive wolf thing maybe)

• you might not know at first, and they might not show it evidently, but they love sad karaoke songs or sad songs overall

Primary love language: Acts of service, physical touch, quality time, and gift giving

• *sniffs you with suspicion* “…that’s not my scent…”

• standing watch over you when you use a knife to cut vegetables — says, “are you sure you don’t need my help?” at least 5x in 2 mins, and still doesn’t leave after that

• stare wars with birds on a pole bc they felt offended by the birds staring first

• randomly, abrupt howling on some nights

“You take what I give you”

Acts as your personal bodyguard- will actually fight anyone for you

• loves to smell around your neck area- that shit kinda tickles tho

• (if your werewolf is male): “change out. that’s too revealing. you know men are dogs.” (lmfaooo? says who, the werewolf??)

• scolds you like a damn parent because you went outside at night for a few minutes to get some fresh air

• massages your thighs and feet

• physical contact is a must for them when watching movies with you

—————————————

Pile 2 | The Vampire

• “I ‘vant tu zuck yur blud.”

• a bit of a vanity monster (as most vampires are.) they like the way they look, and also care about how they present themselves to other people and most importantly, looking hot as hell in front of you, maybe too much at times. but from your pov, they really don’t have to try. they’re just naturally…wow. Breathtaking. HOWEVER!!! They use it to their advantage.

• Actual sass-squashes. They’re sassy and for no reason, but you can’t take them seriously when they are 😂😂

• intentionally AND unintentionally funny. like those characters on Disney channel shows that are like “oh yeah? try me” and then some bigger, buffer person comes in and they flinch a little. if you squint, you’ll catch a gulp in there too. it’s funny. endearing even. but they gotta own up to their mistakes and tone down on overcompensating. If there’s one thing they do, it’s to make up for what they don’t have.

• L-O-Y-A-L….by the time they get with you, at least. they might’ve had an…interesting reputation in the past. they might seem selfish bc of it—which is partially true. they can charm people to get what they want. They might/might have had a history of partying, hella socializing, hanging out w/ friends whenever they could (haha get it? hanging out? yk…vampire stuff…)

A total charmer and a flirt. They like to bicker and tease you; playful,, sometimes it’s cute…others, kinda annoying

• if you talk to this person seriously and in a calm and diplomatic manner, they’ll get a little defensive, yes, but A LOT less so than if you were yelling and screaming at them outright. if you both just sit down on the edge of the bed, tilt your head to a 45 degree angle and show your concerns, they’ll reflect and maybe deflect here and there, but they’ll think about it throughout the day.

• I think this person goes through varying phases of heat. (Prob not even the right word here but-) By that I mean, sometimes they wanna get down and dirty for 30 hours straight or just session after session after session nonstop—OR they take what they need and leave for a couple hours, come back again, take, and leave. This is odd at first, but it just comes with the moodiness they inherently have, possibly sticking to them from the past life. They might have suffered with commitment issues, and I don’t mean them per se, but the people around them that didn’t know how to love: family, friends, anyone that was close and left abruptly or never showed love. (Made me a lil sad there...)

• Love is complicated. They didn’t believe in it before and was confident they wouldn’t ever. But when you ask them “What do vampires think about love? Are you allowed to love?”, they turn their heads, take a moment to skim over your face in silence. Love…is what I’m feeling with you. They want to admit this, but vampires can’t feel. Would you even believe them? They don’t even know what love is. They don’t even feel heartbeats anymore, but for some reason, when you look into their eyes like that, there’s a different kind of pulsing. A surge of desire that courses through them, screaming at them to keep you forever. They can’t ever let you go now.

•^ This leads us to possessiveness. They are…*phew* VERY possessive and very dramatic/petty/easily sulky about it. You’ll lose your mind over it. If you do something as simple as shopping, they will follow. Too insistent and stubborn not to. What if you encounter another vampire living among the humans during the day, and suddenly, said vampire wants you too? Sure, they get burnt with a bit of sun, so what? They’d evolved enough to wear a million layers of sunscreen and a million layers of clothing over that, all dressed up like a moving heap of clothes. They care about how others might see them like this, of course, but in moments like these, they don’t care when you’re on the line.

• they’ve never really had their emotions looked at carefully or taken care of. It’s always just been brushed off, not only by themselves but by others as well. I personally wouldn’t doubt if they claimed to never have had real friends or friends that cared about the inside substance rather than the outer. Your fs just seems like they’re trying to fit in, be accepted and validated. You wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance, but as you gradually get to know them, you’ll find that their heart is barely being held together by makeshift glue.

Very in tune with their inner divine feminine energy,, not afraid to tap into it and explore that side more

Not that emotionally developed but has major potential to with the right teacher

Nurturing and caring, but might be materialistic or putting too much importance on the material/physical pleasures. Truly lives for the fun of it

Works hard, plays hard—and will shamelessly chase you

Knows exactly what to say and do that will rile you up. Knows all of your weak spots physically

Down to try anything and everything with you, no complaints

Sensual and passionate personality and in the sheets

Super open minded and curious, easygoing and has no expectations. Makes a lot of jokes too.

Daring, optimistic, brave and believes in no limits (but bc of this, they can be seen as naive or have an innocent nature inside.) Gets in half-fights/arguments w/ people for fun

A total switch in bed; can and literally will do/try anything

Now, dare I say…the FS for this pile have the best rizz and sex game

Some fs in here can get too naggy

They have a great fashion sense or an overwhelming appreciation for fashion, beauty, or aesthetics, and is more than willing to be involved in your fashion styles

Red flag moment: solves problems in your relationship w/ sex so that yall will just forget it and move on

In hindsight, this FS is so flamboyant or charming that you could get lost in what they’re trying to express. They’ve got very fiery energy (betting rn that they have extremely prominent fire sign placements).

P.S. yeah after writing this out and reviewing the format, seeing all the back and forth…pile 2 FS def has a perfection mask thing going on. They wanna make themselves appealing in one way or another, or the consequences will just break them into pieces. The last thing that they want is to be alone.

————————-

Pile 3 | The Fairy

Alas, we’ve gotten to arguably the most healthy future spouse here out of the 3 😅 (and the most intuitive)

Introspective as hell and wise. Helps you with really anything

They’re ok w/ being alone; most introverted of the piles

Positive, hopeful, and optimistic when it comes to others. More pessimistic when it comes to themselves.

Balanced and a good mentor; suuuper patient (a lot of times to a fault)

Learns from their losses and mistakes and becomes a better person, improving almost immediately

Mediator type of person, but will defend you against others in argument—which they’ll win btw

They don’t like seeking help from others—if anything, your FS is usually the helper—even when they can ask for help right in front of them- even if it’s recommended to get help, they still won’t do it

Hella infj vibes tho (if you’re into mbti)

Every show of love is their love language. Bonus points if they wear matching clothes or secretly write poems to you that they’ll never tell you about

This future spouse group has the cheesiest and the sweetest person

Your person can lead a life more flexible financially than the other 2 piles

Also an all rounder! But thinks that they aren’t perfect when they literally are; struggles with their own low self-esteem so they try to build other people up

Putting others before themselves is second nature- they ALWAYS prioritize you or others; extremely selfless

^^Now, each fairy got a different role and purpose. The reasoning for your fs being overly selfless and self-sacrificial varies. The easy answer? Insecurity. Second? Obligation or a sense of duty. The list goes on…

They’ve got that Triple A Threat: Amazing Ass Adaptability. Your person has been thru quite a bit, hell and back. Sometimes, life just likes to mess with them for no apparent reason 🤷🏻‍♀️)

They’re always ready to face challenges; Incredibly strong person. They’ll be with you thru thick and thin!!

Strong sense of justice and equality. OH- and also they like traveling or would like to travel more!

A literal inspiration and hope (yes, with sparkles on top.) Not only do they inspire others, but your person—no matter how rock bottom you get—will never leave you.

gets jealous and easily possessive but doesn't wanna show it (shit's still pretty obvious tho)

The type that babbles their heart out when they get comfy with you. They don’t get like this with just anyone

Likely likes museums and art. Things that the media typically deems boring, weird, or unconventional your FS will prob find interesting. They like to look into deeper meanings and interpretations.

In bed, they’re pretty vanilla and soft. But are open to exploring things that aren’t too wild (like our vampire up above)

(Take this bit very lightly: I see that this person has grown up or has been around “broken” people their entire life, so they feel they need to take responsibility on behalf of those people. They might be some kind of counselor, mentor, or therapist. They’re prone to blaming themselves if situations take a bad turn or go unplanned. I’m also hinting here that some of your FS might have a savior complex, and not on purpose. They might always take some kind of leadership role or something directly beneficial to people- nurses, camp leaders, etc…)

They will take all of the burden so that you don’t have to

If your FS had any weirdo or pervy habits, it’d probably be compulsively stealing your panties or building a shrine with locks of your hair on it 😵‍💫 (which hopefully I hope doesn’t happen. I heard in some fairy folklore, they steal babies, like flying away with the newborn-in-a-basket typa thing- and for no reason too! Don’t let them steal yo babies now!!)

———————-

**Ending Teddy note:

As always, thank you so very much for tuning in with us! I hope you have a spooktacular Scorpio season as we are soon heading into it (depending on when you’re reading this), but really you can read this at any time. Rmr to take everything with a grain of salt! Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. Stay safe out there and rock on people 🤩🤩 Feedback is very much appreciated in any form as it’d help me grow as a reader :)

*This is for entertainment purposes*

[inconveniently-discorporated]

I think I have a potentially controversial opinion on Aziraphale and the ending.

So one of the things that made me smile so, SO much, was THIS:

That PURE ABSOLUTE UTTER JOY.

We have not seen ANYTHING like that from demon Crowley. We've seen him be drunk and silly, we've seen him be amused, but we've not seen this.

Now, let's consider what we know about Heaven:

It's never fully populated. ALL of the shots are completely devoid of angels, except for a few, who are almost always just getting somewhere and never really talking to each other.

Where I thought the archangels were a tight clan, it really looks like they're super catty and prone to jealousy. No doubt they would stab each other in the back happily if it came down to it. How much of Heaven is like that, if even the archangels all hate each other?

Aziraphale already has a nervous disposition when he meets Crowley. Is he perhaps an angel that NEVER fit in? Is he familiar with being ostracized by his peers? Just how lonely IS Heaven? Crowley seems to be a pretty powerful angel, and HE doesn't even know that it's all getting shut down in 6000 years -- it's like no one talks to anyone.

Aziraphale, during their whole meeting, looks absolutely smitten. At one point, Crowley goes, "Look at you! You're gorgeous!" and Aziraphale looks over with happy surprise, just before realizing he's not looking at him but rather at what he's created. And then, when Crowley starts going on about making suggestions and asking questions, Aziraphale is IMMEDIATELY concerned and doesn't want him to get into trouble.

Aziraphale is hooked on this angel, and I cannot help but think that this is perhaps the first angel who has ever WELCOMED Aziraphale into his company.

He is hooked on this angel, and the way Crowley smiles is with the light of all the stars he's just created, and it's infectious and it brings a smile to Aziraphale's face as well. And then this angel shields him from the oncoming falling stars.

He is hooked on this angel, and then this angel goes and joins the Great Rebellion, and becomes fallen himself.

"You were an angel once," Aziraphale said, softly, at the bandstand. He remembers.

I think it's reasonable to guess that Heaven has never felt so warm as it did in the presence of millions of exploding stars, next to the (arch?)angel that may perhaps be one of the few (only?) to pay him any positive attention.

I think it's reasonable to assume that Heaven was not the same after Crowley fell. I wouldn't be surprised to find out Aziraphale had wondered about the angel, wondered if he was okay. I would imagine that Aziraphale keeps that picture of pure, angelic, unbridled joy somewhere inside of him.

So, really, is it any surprise that threaded throughout EVERY interaction, Aziraphale has this deep-down feeling that Crowley is good? Would it be any surprise that Aziraphale, an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can (which isn't always), feels that if HE is still an angel, then what was done to Crowley was a great injustice?

I think it would make sense that we are shown "before the beginning" not just because it is fun, but because THIS is the foundational context for everything Aziraphale thinks Crowley is, everything Crowley enjoys. I think he remembers this moment and wishes he could live there forever. With Crowley. The two of them with this happiness, forever.

But nothing lasts forever, as much as he wishes it did.

I'm not saying Aziraphale was right with what he did to Crowley at the end of s2. There is a lot I think he did wrong. I think he held onto this picture so tightly, he didn't realize that Crowley had long since let it go, and painted a new one with Aziraphale with all the shades of grey he picked up as he sauntered (or plummeted) vaguely downward (into a pool of boiling sulfur).

I don't think he was right, but I do think he is understandable. I think there was a lot of selfishness, but also some misguided selflessness too. I watched that first scene with angelic Crowley and my heart actually broke a little, because I thought, "What a shame this joy was taken away from him."

I think Aziraphale is trying to right the injustice he feels has been done. But I also think Aziraphale doesn't realize that Crowley can never go back. The concept of falling never crossed Crowley's mind when he suggested that he ask a few questions, and he will NEVER get that kind of innocence back. And Aziraphale doesn't understand, because Heaven has clearly always just been that way for him (he is already aware of the danger of asking questions).

Crowley does not want to go back because he can never go back. He can never be the same angel he was when he thought he could build a universal machine that would crank out stars for eons and eons. He can never be the same angel he was when he thought he could make some suggestions and ask some questions and co-create with THE Creator.

Crowley understands that, and Aziraphale doesn't. But I can understand why Aziraphale would want to try. And I think it's all because of this:

[mxilkyways]

Sweet Affairs

summary: after a hunt gone awry, dean is pissed that the reader had put her life on the line - however, through concealed feelings and misguided judgement the reader refuses to see why dean is so worked up. An argument ensues between the pair that reveal hidden emotions and lead to them indulging in what they both had been craving for so long.

warnings: very heavy smut (⚠️), all the shenanigans

pairing: dean winchester x f!reader

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” his voice was taunt, gritted through clenched teeth as the door to the cheap motel slammed shut behind him.

Your jaw ticked, vein popping from under your skin as you swallowed down the obscenities you were tempted to spew at him. The tense silence on the car ride back had paid no help in trying to douse the frustration and insults whirling through your mind, rather having provided you the opportunity to stare daggers into the side of his head.

Your quietness seemed to push Dean even further, a disgruntled huff passing his lips as his fingers curled around your forearm; whirling you towards him. You whined in protest, attempting to tug yourself from his grip however his hold just tightened.

“Dont. Dont you dare try to pull away.” his tone left no room for argument and so you reluctantly stopped resisting. “Do you even understand what you did today?”

Your eyes narrowed, mirroring his, as you swallowed harshly. You could feel the anger in his hold, his fingertips dug in so hard there’s no doubt bruises would be left behind, yet it only served to fuel your own rage.

“Im not a baby, Dean. Of course i know what I did — i had a choice to make and I did what I thought was right.” venom leaked from your tongue, speaking to him in a manner that portrayed him as a petulant child.

A growl emitted low within his chest, his restraint clear on the verge of snapping. You watched as his head pivoted to the side, tongue darting out to wet his lips. It was barely a few seconds of peace before a scoff was drawn from his throat followed by the chastising echo of a laugh.

“Bullshit. You’re exactly what a fucking baby is — you got no goddamn brains throwing yourself into danger like that. You nearly got yourself killed, what about that screamed right to you?” he was provoking you, trying to get you to admit you were wrong but you were too stubborn for your own good.

Your eyes scanned over his face as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, biting so hard a metallic tang bled against your mouth. You noticed his gaze drop before he subconsciously moved, running his thumb along the outline of your bottom lip; pulling it from between your teeth.

You jerked your head backwards, away from his touch. “You’re acting like you wouldn’t do the same —“

“Its different” his words cut through yours. You glared at him again yet he seemed to pay no attention, his focus solely drawn to the blood that stained the cracks of your lips “you’re different”

This caused you to reel back, your arm yanking from his grip. Your chest heaved as disbelief coursed through your veins; eyes drawn almost into slits. Dean cursed as his fist clenched, dropping down to his side.

“Are you kidding me? How am I different, Dean? I had every right to do what I did and so what if I put my life at risk — the goddamn vampires are dead, thats all that should matter” your voice was raising with every word that left, your emotions coming to a boil.

You were about ready to turn and leave when Dean closed the distance between the two of you, his chest pressed so closely against yours you could feel the beat of his heart as it hammered against his ribcage. His fingers moulded to your chin, twisting so you had no choice but to look at him. His hold was so tight your cheeks squished inwards, your lips pouting involuntarily.

“You dont get it do you?” his tone was so grating you were left stunned, chests fitting together as you both struggled to cool down “I cant lose you — and when you do stupid shit like this, it scares me.”

Silence seemed to filter through the air as you registered his words, brain churning to try and decipher exactly what he was implying. His gaze jumped around your face, from your eyes to your lips, to your cheeks as his fingers flexed.

His hold loosened, hand sliding to the back of your neck as he now cradled you. His thumb swiped idly across your flesh, soothing down the impressions his nails had left behind. His lips drew into a thin line, an indication he was battling whatever was running through his mind, before his eyes snapped back to yours; a newfound sense of determination clear.

“I care about you, okay?” he paused, letting the words hang in the air “more than id ever bothered to admit to myself — to admit to you. You’re different because i dont know how the hell I would ever be able to live with myself if something happened to you.”

“Dean, I —” the words got caught in your throat, a tight coil forming within your stomach. Your tone was no longer harsh rather it was weak, like all the air had been sucked from your lungs.

“Just listen… please” his eyes were half glossed over, his eyebrows drawn together in a desperate act of pleading. He didn’t wait for you to respond before he spoke again.

“Ive tried so hard to push down my feelings but you make it so goddamn difficult when every time you walk into the room, I feel like being sick because I’ve never seen someone so beautiful. I thought… I thought you’d cursed me, bewitched me cause’ there was no way I was finally falling in love with you, but then I realized that maybe — maybe you’re just that perfect.” his eyes closed momentarily, a sharp inhale whistling in the space between us. “I hate you for it, sometimes - having made me fall in love with you because when you do the things you did today, I panic. I would do anything to protect you but at times like this I feel so useless, helpless that I cant just take you away from every bad thing in this universe… m’ sorry for getting angry but can you blame me? I dont want to lose the only pure thing I was given the honor of loving in this godawful life”

Your lips were parted as you took in every word that left his tongue. You stood, frozen, your hands itching to reach out, touch him, show him how much his words meant to you. There seemed to be a buzzing in the air that vibrated against your skin, causing goosebumps to awake on your skin.

“You’re not joking are you?” the sentence sounded dumb the moment it entered into the space however your brain was running overdrive and it was impossible to control what slipped out.

Deans head fell back, a dry laugh tugging at his throat before he drew back, gazing at you with such disbelief. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“No” you shook your head, your own smile gracing your face before you leaned forward; connecting your lips to his.

The kiss was soft at first, your lips only slightly pressed against his as you tested the waters yet, almost clinically Dean deepened the contact. His hands moved across the flushed flesh of your neck, trailing over the blades of your shoulders, down the hollows of your back before coming to rest on the plush fat of your hips.

His fingers tightened possessively, drawing you impossibly closer as a groan jutted against your mouth. Your own hands splayed against his chest, creasing the fabric of his shirt.

You pulled back momentarily, a string of saliva connecting the two of you before it popped, glazing your bottom lip and chin. Deans gaze darkened as he eyed the scene, barely giving you time to register what was happening before his lips were attached to the skin of your chin. He kisses up the length of your face till he reached your lips again, letting his tongue run over your bottom lip; seeking entrance.

You hummed against him, parting your lips as his tongue directly began to map out the entirety of your mouth. Your hands threaded into the hair at the nape his neck, causing a sudden moan to escape Dean. The corner of your mouth tugged up before his teeth were biting down on your swollen lips, your own moan following suit.

One of your hands delve down between the two of you, landing on the prominent bulge tenting his jeans. He hissed, his hips rutting forward; chasing the way you palmed him through the, what he now considered, inconvenient fabric of his pants.

Your movements never ceased, working in tandem with the way his lips fought against yours. Suddenly his fingers caught your wrist, pulling back your hand as he whined against your mouth.

“Ah — fuck… you gotta’ stop that, sweetheart, or i ain’t gonna last” his breath was hot against you “plus if my cock’s gotta be milked, its gonna be inside you”

Your body shuddered as his words reached your ears, your thighs clenching instinctively to try to release the pressure that was building up. Dean didn’t fail to notice your action, a cocky smirk gracing his features as he patted the underside of your thigh.

The fat of your ass jiggled as you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist as your arms linked behind his shoulders. His hands grasped at the flesh of your thighs, holding you against him as his erection subsequently rubbed against your core from outside your shorts.

His lips met yours again in another feverish kiss as he began to lead you both over to the edge of the bed. With a soft thud your back hit the sheets, the mattress creaking under the newfound weight. His body caged atop yours, his forearms resting either side of your head as his hips slotted between your legs.

He rolled his hips forward, the rough material of your shorts snagging against your underwear; eliciting a moan from your lips. “shit, dean — need you so bad”

Your words caused him to hum against you yet something seemed to snap inside him as he picked up his pace. His fingers grasped the edge of your shirt, tugging it over your head before moving to the buttons of your shorts; those being torn from your body like it was a reflex.

Once he had you stripped down, he pulled back to admire you — sprawled out on the bed, hair tossed about, chest heaving. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed, like he was a man starved.

“Fucking hell” he muttered under his breath before diving to the column of your neck. His lips worked overtime, sucking harshly at your already reddening skin before his tongue would soothe over his art; licking a stripe up the column of your throat.

Your head fell backwards against the pillows, allowing him more access to assault your flesh. You were already a moaning mess and he hadn’t even touched you.

His fingers skimmed up the sides of your stomach, lifting your back off the bed as he fished the bra from your chest. His lips memorized their way down your neck, leaving marks along your collarbone before he paused just above your breasts. His eyes filtered up to yours through his lashes, silently asking you for permission.

“Please — please” you begged autonomously. At your signal, he wasted no time. His hands cupped around your breasts, kneading them as his mouth sucked and devoured your hardened peaks simultaneously. His teeth grazed along your skin, your back arching off the mattress as your legs tightened around his waist.

“So beautiful” he whispered as he continued to abuse your breasts. With a harsh pop, he pulled away from your chest, pushing up to capture your lips with his. “Cant wait to taste that pretty pussy of yours, baby”

You mewled against his lips, your underwear no doubt soaked through to the point of it being transparent.

“You gonna let me taste you, sweetheart? Please, let me taste you”

You clearly came undone right then. Your nails dug into the sheets beside you as you breathlessly pleaded for him to touch you. He gave a satisfactory hum before his fingers breached the edge of your panties, toying with the lace against your plush hip.

“Pretty little thing” he purred as he moved to spread your legs, settling himself on his knees at the end of the bed.

He trailed a line of wet kisses to the inside of your thighs, his hands placed with such a forceful grip to keep your legs pried open for him. You watched him with bated breath, your lip sucked between your teeth again.

His nose skimmed along your skin as he made his way up torturously slow. His nose nudged against your clothed core as his mouth came to a pause at the edge of your underwear. His tongue darted out, leaving a sloppy trail of saliva over the lace as it soaked through to your searing flesh underneath.

His teeth grabbed the top of your panties, sliding them down your legs until you were bare in front of him. An animalistic growl tore from his chest as his eyes locked into your core; glistening in a sweetness he was dying to savour.

He tightened his hold on your thighs before roughly yanking you towards him, causing you to yelp in surprise. He huffed out a laugh, the air blowing out on your bare cunt. You shuddered, your legs closing instinctively - wrong move.

Deans fingers flexed as he forced open your thighs again, his eyes staring up at you with a fiery desire. “Do that again. I fucking dare you” he scolded, the vein in his neck popping in frustration.

You could only whine out a pathetic ‘sorry’ which seemed good enough for Dean as seconds later his tongue was pressed between your folds.

“Goddamn, baby — you gonna get me pussy drunk with how sweet you taste” an incessant spew of moans fall past your lips as he drinks you in, slurping at your cunt like its the best thing he’s ever eaten.

He hooks your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access to delve his tongue deeper, ravaging every part of you he can reach. Your heel digs into the crease of his back, a pitiful attempt at grounding yourself before you spill against his mouth.

Dean hums against you, the vibrations nearly snapping the coil that has built within your stomach. He feels your legs shake, one hand coming up to rub encouraging circles.

He pulls his mouth away; his nose, lips and chin glistening with your slick and the sight almost sends you over the edge. Instantaneously his fingers replace his absence, toying with your cunt as his thumb moves to tease at your clit.

A slew of curses are thrown into the air as you messily grab at his hand on your thigh, intertwining your fingers with his. His efforts are relentless, pumping in and out of you as you drip down his digits and create a pool on the sheets underneath.

It’s once he curls his fingers inside you that the rubber-band finally snaps and your whole body spasms around him. His fingers work you through it, swirling around your folds as he coats his hand in your release.

“God — you’re too fucking good to me, feeding me when I’ve been so hungry for you” he brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking them clean as he groans in fulfillment. He licks his lips, swiping your wetness from off his chin as if he was savoring every last drop of you.

You watch him with half-lidded eyes, your lips parted as small puffs of air tear from your lungs. The sight of him licking himself clean of you has your core throbbing again, a new wave of slick coating your walls.

You push yourself onto your elbows, your hand reaching out to grasp his jaw as you bring him up to your mouth; tongues clashing together in a battle of dominance. His hips rut into the mattress, his erection boarding painful from the lack of attention.

His fingers thread into your hair, wrapping around sweat-slicked strands as he continues to wreck your lips.

“You taste that, my pretty girl? Taste how fucking good you are” he groans into your mouth, making sure to run his tongue over every inch of your gums “Need more… need to stuff your pussy full of my cock — need to fill you up”

A whine pours from your throat yet not a second is wasted as your digits tug at the hem of his shirt. In one fluid movement, the fabric is stripped from his body; his muscle’s flexing as he settles back down between you.

Your cunt tightens around air as your gaze rakes over his body, every crease and hollow is reflected under the dim lighting of the room. Involuntarily your hips rock forward, brushing against his stomach.

“Ah — shit” he curses, his eyes dropping to your trail of slick that now coats his abs. His patience is worn thin, the need to feel your gummy walls clench around him becomes too much.

Theres a brief clinking of metal and the ruffling of jeans as he relives his body of clothing. His cock springs up, slapping against his stomach as his swollen tip glistens in pre-cum.

Like a greedy child, your thumb moves to swipe over his slit before sucking it clean off your finger. A pleased hum vibrated against your throat, his cum coating your tongue like a film.

Deans cock twitched against his abdomen, pulsating red and angry as it sought to be buried deep within your heat.

His hand wraps around his length, a shuddered intake jerking his chest. He shifts his hips, bending your knees and drawing you in closer. He slaps his shaft against your cunt before sliding it through your folds, coating his member in a layer of your wetness.

You hiss, your nails digging crescent moons into your palms. His eyes float up to meet yours as he positions himself at your entrance.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” his tone is soft, genuine.

“Ive never wanted anything more than you” your words serve as reassurance; a pathetic moan escaping Deans throat as he finally sinks into you.

His pace is slow, allowing you time to adjust as your pussy sucks him in. As his balls slap against your heat, he pauses above you — the stretch of him inside you both tender yet addicting.

His fingers skim your cheek, his face lowering to pepper kisses against your skin; your temple, your nose, your eyelids before meeting your lips.

“Doin’ such a good job f’me sweetheart, taking me so well” he praises as his hips slowly rock back and forth, setting a steady rhythm.

Your walls tighten around him, a string of incoherent mumbles spewing into the humid air of your bodies. The life outside is quiet, a stark contrast to the pornographic sloshing of his cock as it squelches in your juices.

Deans eyes fall to where he rocks in and out of you, his cock disappearing between your folds before emerging lathered in your wetness.

“Thats it baby, keeping suckin’ me in — fuck, you feel so good” his pace is becoming dreadfully slow, your body craves to feel every inch of him as he utterly destroys you

“Need you to go faster, Dean” you mewl, fingers curling around his bicep as if you could pull him to go harder.

Immediately his hips snapped forward, sheathing himself fully inside you before pumping in and out at a brutal rate. The fat of your ass rippled relentlessly, your breasts bouncing in sync as he continued to batter your cunt.

Your head lolled back, back subconsciously arching off the bed to take him deeper, feel every vein as it brushes your cervix. His hands shoot to your waist, holding down your body to angle himself just right as he reaches that spongy flesh.

You cry out, everything seemingly becoming too much as his tip kisses and teases that knot forming in your belly.

Dean only growls as your walls flutter around him, arms flexing as he tries to fight back his own simmering release.

“Could stay buried within’ your sweet little pussy all day” his hips stutter briefly “S’ like you were made for me — you’re the only thing i did right”

His name leaves your lips in a breathless chant; a warning. You can feel the knot tightening in your stomach — his length antagonizing you, testing how long you would be able to last.

You try to claw at the mattress, attempting to break away as the sensation overwhelms you but he holds you close. His body comes to encase yours, forearms resting beside your head as his lips dip to the shell of your ear.

“You’re so fucking perfect, too innocent for this world” his teeth nip at your earlobe, hot breath tickling the skin of your neck.

His words were ironic given your current state; cheeks glossed with tears of pleasure, lips swole and bitten, his cock pumping in and out of your tight hole as the only sounds filling the room were that of your lewd moans and his balls spanking against the flesh of your ass.

“Ive got you, pretty girl” at his signal the heat in your belly boiled over, body spasming under him as your ears rang and vision turned bleary.

Through your haze you barely made out the approval of his words, his voice strained and low; “Look at you, creamin’ around my cock”

He worked you through your high, pace keeping steady before he suddenly pulled out; thick ropes of cum painting your puffy cunt. Your walls clenched at the empty feeling, already missing having him make you feel so full.

His fingers glided through your folds, pinching your clit and eliciting a sensitive whine from you. He lathered up a mixture of both his and your release before stuffing his fingers inside you, making sure nothing went to waste.

His fingers pulled out with a squelch before he brought them up your lips, nudging at your mouth. You enclosed around his digits, tongue swirling over the tops of his fingers as you drank down the last of both your releases.

He placed a gentle kiss atop your temple before capturing your mouth with his.

“You did so well, love — you okay?” his eyebrows knitted together as he examined your worn out state. You could barely muster a nod in response, your legs still shaking and chest still heaving from the aftermath.

Dean patted the outside of your thigh before he was off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. He returned only moments later, a damp towel in hand as he clambered back over to you.

He delicately spread your legs, pressing the towel along the inside of your thighs and over your core as he worked to clean the sticky mess of your body. Your teeth ground together as he drew along your tender flesh.

“Sorry, pretty lady, but i gotta get you cleaned up” he murmured, tossing the soiled towel to the side as he finished.

He helped lift your hips from off the sheets, gliding your bare form underneath the warmth as he slid in next to you. His arm wound its away around your waist, drawing you in as your head perched against his chest; the steading beat of his heart pounding into your ear.

He left a kiss to the top of your hairline, his lips resting on your slightly sweaty and flushed skin. Your fingers skimmed along his chest, tracing along the lines of the tattoo inked into his body.

A comfortable silence blanketed the two of you before your quiet voice broke the air: “I know i didn’t say it before but I love you too, Dean —”

“You dont gotta say anything, sweetheart… havin’ you here’s enough for me” he cut you off, hold tightening around your waist.

“But i want to” your chin perched upon his shoulder, eyes peering up at him through thick lashes. “I dont want you to think you’re alone in this, Dean because i feel the exact same way… I always have, I was just scared of ruining whatever we had”

He scoffed, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“Baby, if i ever rejected you, id damn sure have lost my mind”

a/n: idk what i just wrote

© dividers by cafekitsune

[yandere-sins]

Monstober - Day 9: Folklore Creatures

Spin on "Little Red Riding Hood" anyone? What could be better than someone so obsessed with you, they simply want to eat you up?

Prompt: Folklore Creatures | Cautionary Tales // Truth // Naivity Warnings: Yandere, Violence (non-main character murder, Blood Mention, Implied Bullying of the reader (off-screen)), Topic of Jealousy, Posessiveness

"Love you, hun."

Pressing a gentle kiss to your head, your boyfriend got up, stretching his arms high over his head and popping his neck before he got to his feet with a sigh. "Where are you going? Do you really have to leave?" you mumbled, the disappointment unmistakably in your voice. It had been like this for weeks now, where you two spent a passionate night before he slipped out without a trace to find him all day.

"Mhm," he sighed, leaning down to you again to catch your lips once more. "You know how much it pains me, but I got to go before it's too late. Wouldn't want to awaken the monster in me, would you?"

He said it as if it was a challenge, and you giggled, thinking it was just another innuendo. "Wouldn't let me get out of bed, huh?"

"Oh, I'd gobble you up, darling."

Laughing, he stepped away, putting his shirt back on as he dipped into the bathroom of your small apartment real quick. The moment he disappeared from view, you couldn't help your expression from showing the disappointment and frustration you felt. It had been almost a month now, and you two never went out together in the daylight, never saw each other except when he picked you up for a night out in the club or came to watch a movie that was never finished.

It felt more like you were his friend-with-benefits—you didn't even know his last name.

As if you were the other one.

The thought made your blood boil. You weren't proud of it, but in a moment of jealous weakness, you had checked his phone, seeing countless messages where he told people how excited he was to hang out and make appointments with them while he never seemed to do the same for you. It didn't seem like he had another partner in his life, but how could you be sure when he played the role of the mysterious night visitor rather than your wholesome boyfriend?

Was he ashamed of you? Were you not good enough? Did he just keep you around for his entertainment? The questions plagued you as he never gave you a good answer. He wouldn't even entertain the discussions, only vowing that he loved you and his work was very important and took him all day.

So why was he meeting other people then?

There wasn't much time once he said his goodbyes, his kisses nothing short of loving and sweet. For a possible cheater, he was good at what he was doing. You only had a few seconds of self-doubt about what you were going to do before you were out of the door and hunting after him, long coat and sunglasses on in true stalker-fashion. It felt wrong, and you hated yourself for mistrusting him so much, but at the same time, you two were still practically strangers, knowing so little while still being so in love. A little craziness was inevitable, right?

However, as your boyfriend turned from the main street into the shady path leading to the central park of your town, you suddenly felt a sense of panic. What if you accidentally got involved with some shady fellow? What if this was a drug deal or worse? Why would someone need to go to a park in the middle of the night?

You had assumed he was leaving you alone every night to hook up with other people or go back to an unsuspecting partner, but as you gently brushed through the thicket, trying to stay out of the moonlight that would give away your presence, you suddenly weren't so sure anymore.

You could still see him as he walked further into the park. It should have been your sign to leave, get away while you could, and cut all contact... but you had already gotten this far. Following closely by hiding behind trees and the occasional park bench, you tracked him through the greenery. Once, he almost seemed to spot you, but you ducked into a bush just in time, regretting this move only when the thicket tore at the fabric of your coat, making unnecessary noise. Still, you managed to stay hidden, heart racing and always alert.

Eventually, your boyfriend sat on a park bench in front of a pond. Nothing much happened for the next few minutes, and you were about to call this mission off, seeing how relaxed he was. It was as if he simply enjoyed hanging out in the park at night like a semi-normal person would.

But footsteps crunching over the gravel made you cower lower, your eyes fixating on the person approaching. Your boyfriend lifted a hand in greeting, and the person sprinted forward, hood falling off her head, revealing a cruel sight.

Because you knew the woman your boyfriend was meeting.

Your bully.

Heart sinking into your stomach, you watched as she jumped into his arms, giggling as your boyfriend spun her around. The only reason for them to meet you could think of was that the two set you up, made you fall in love with him so they could laugh at you behind your back. It really broke your heart to watch them cuddle on the park bench, your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—ruffling her hair.

You didn't want to stay to see this.

It was a good thing you found out, but with tears filling your eyes, you knew you had to leave before you were discovered or hurt yourself more by watching them. This trainwreck wasn't one you should have been observing, and it hurt enough that you wanted to never come out of your home again.

"You know, [Name]?" your boyfriend suddenly asked, the sound of your name on his tongue so bittersweet.

"Who? Oh..." your bully replied, thinking for a moment. "What about them? They are a loser, not worth your time."

"Is that so? Because they told me about you, lots of things."

"You're ruining the mood. Isn't it enough that I agreed to meet you here? It's so creepy! Did you know how they found quite a few bodies lately around this park? We should go clubbing or to a bar, why are we even here talking about some loser?"

Your bully let out a frustrated sigh, throwing her hair back over her shoulder before leaning close. "You know we never even kissed until now. Don't you think it's such a waste of those lovely lips to talk when we could make out instead?"

Letting out a dry laugh, he didn't seem flattered at all as she tried to avert the topic of you. Good, you thought, because you really weren't up to hearing about yourself from the bully and the traitor. Even so, you couldn't move. As if you were frozen to the spot.

"Good thing you mentioned that. I prefer not making my partner worried about whether I'm cheating or not."

"Partner?" your bully spat, scrunching up her nose, the ugliness of her expression matching her personality. "Don't tell me you're fucking with that. I thought you had better taste when you asked me out to dinner the last few times. Thought you'd appreciate beauty more--"

Her words were cut off as your boyfriend's hand wrapped around your throat. He brought her face closer to his, sounding more enraged than you had ever heard him before. "How dare you talk about them like that. They are perfect. Wonderful. Special. It's filth like you that needs to be taken out so my love can be happy."

The two rose from their seat, and you watched as your boyfriend seemingly effortlessly hoisted your bully into the air. Something felt off, and you couldn't look away as you watched the clothes on his body tearing apart, your bully struggling as his fingers stretched and wrapped around her neck completely. She let out mewls and gasps as she tried to kick him, tried to make him stop, but the horror was in both of your eyes as you watched your boyfriend transform.

Skin turned into fur, mouth into snout. His posture changed as his body grew taller, monstrous, into a beast. Part of you couldn't believe your own eyes as you watched him take on canine features as if you were in a movie, watching a werewolf transform, but by the way, your bully was struggling harder, unable to scream, you realized it was real, and she saw it too.

Horrified, you could only clasp your hands over your mouth, containing your shivers. Doggish years popped up from his head, twisting and turning towards your direction. You had to be quiet, undetected, or surely, you'd be the next prey of that monster. His snout opened, long, sharp teeth glistening in the moonlight, and you heard the gurgled scream of your bully before the beast pounced, biting between her neck and shoulder.

Your bully was still kicking and trying to break loose as blood gushed from the bite, her sounds turning into gurgles before everything quieted out, and she stopped moving. Even though your eyes were so wide open, you couldn't believe them at all, couldn't understand what just happened, only listening to the sound of fluids gushing out and dripping to the floor, bones breaking beneath the claws and massive jaw, and eventually, her body simply slipping from his grip, seemingly meaningless.

"[Name], [Name], [Name]. Isn't it so impolite to eavesdrop on others?" the monster suddenly grumbled. Its massive head swung in your direction, eyes scanning from one side of the thicket to the other before finally settling on you despite the greenery. "I didn't want you to find out like this. We could have talked about it some other time—like on a picnic!"

Putting his feet into motion, you were still completely frozen as you watched the creature march towards you. If this was a bad dream, now would have been a good moment to wake up. You two held the eye contact, even as you watched the grotesque features slowly turn back into a human, first the head, then arms.

"Well, it is your business, too, I'll admit. I've been doing this all of you. Was I not a good boy, taking care of all these mean people for you?"

Until now, you had never taken much notice of the people you disliked disappearing. If anything, you were glad they weren't around anymore. But now that he was pointing it out, a cold shudder ran down your spine, guilt overcoming you.

"They were in the way of your happiness, and I need a good meal every now and then. We both got something out of it, you sweet, sweet thing—look at you cowering. Are you scared? Of the big, bad wolf? What if I'm a nice wolf, will you come to me then? Don't worry, no one's going to hurt you, I'll take care of all that try."

Even with the words so sweetly murmured, you didn't dare move and fall for his promises. He was a fucking werewolf or any other kind of monster! But werewolf made the most sense. It also explained so much more, for example, how he knew exactly where you were. It only made you wonder if he knew all along. Let himself be exposed to you. Wanting for you to see this.

See him.

Now back in his human form, he reached into the bush, parting it aside to reveal your cowering form. His grin widened as he watched you trembling in fear from him, this... other side of him probably enjoying a primal thrill at the prey he had caught.

"What... what are you? You had those big ears-"

"-to hear your thrilling pulse, darling."

"And your eyes were-"

"-so I could spot you and make sure you'd not hurt yourself, sweetheart."

"A-And your mouth was... you know."

At this, he simply grinned, and you gulped down any other word. "Gobble you up," he said earlier that night. It had not just been a sexy innuendo.

"Are you... going to kill me, too?" you asked woefully, feeling like your fate had already been sealed.

"You? Now, now, who'd do such a thing."

Clicking his tongue at you as if you had just insulted him, your boyfriend stepped through the gap in the bush, crossing over into your hideout, destroying every safety this thicket had provided with his presence. He leaned down, picking you up with what you now knew was unnatural strength and holding your bridal style as he carried you back towards the pond. The moonlight shined down on you two, the reflection on the water's surface blinding you. But it wasn't enough to make you forget about the body that laid just below you.

"I'm glad you could make it here, though. I wanted to enjoy the full moon with you for so long, you know? But you did interrupt my meal, how are you going to make up for it?" he asked, not a hint of seriousness in his voice. As if this was all a game rather than the brutal reality you had only just learned about.

"I--" you sputtered, unable to answer that. Your mind kept coming back to realize you were the next best meal to have and served as if on a silver platter as he carried you.

"Juuust joking," your boyfriend laughed. "How about we go home and order some late-night food? I'm so hungry!"

Ignoring the dead body on the floor, he merely stepped over it, chatting about whether he wanted burger or tacos as if he hadn't just revealed himself to be a fairytale monster and killed someone.

"Or, you know, we could make this fun. You could run, and I could catch you, have a nibble of those sweet cheeks; how about it?"

You felt the blood drain from your face, and his grin diminished as he watched you cower into yourself, his grip tightening around as you grew tense. "Okay, too early, got it."

"You're really not going to kill me?"

"Nope. Can't. You're my mate. You're what all werewolves crave—what I crave. Your happiness is all that satisfies me."

"Then... you'll let me go if I want to?"

His expression turned into a frown, and he shook his head. "There are rules," he said factually. "I'll explain them to you someday. But basically, they don't allow us to tell people about our existence. If I let you go, you might tell someone and--"

"I won't! I promise! I'll take your secret to the grave, please!" you pleaded, and your boyfriend grimaced, looking unhappy at your determination.

"And even more importantly-" he continued, raising his voice threatingly to make you behave. "-they teach us to never let our mates go, as there won't be another one. And living without is torture for a werewolf."

"Never?" you whined softly, and the smile returned to his face. Now he looked almost completely back to normal, like the sweet boyfriend you fell in love with. But you couldn't ignore the wolf in a sheep's skin—not with the blood of your bully still clinging to his chest.

"Never," he assured you firmly, and you knew instinctively that he meant it.

[lovifie]

A/B/O!Reader x Task Force 141

Back to Masterlist - 560 words

Task Force 141, the most fear-inducing task of the active force. 

Before you joined, it was composed of four massive, scary-looking alpha. At some point, everyone thought about how there were no fights between them.

A normal pack cannot function without members of all subgenders, but again, the 141 is not a normal pack.

John Price, captain of the unit and leader of the pack; whatever he said was set on stone. The alpha, whose parents were both betas was the perfect mix of genetic and learned habilites, a calming and reassuring nature unpropper of an alpha.

You were surprised when you were to his office, even more, when the other three men were also inside. But they matched your surprise with theirs when they saw you enter the room. 

Almost comically small next to them, you were not built as Soap who (at just a couple of inches shorter than the rest) makes up for it with his wideness. You are short, have the athletic build proper of a soldier, a cute face and a neck covered in scent blocker tape. 

“I don't like it when people can tell what I'm feeling.”

That was the only explanation. 

Still, they were surprised. You were not what they expected, on your file was just a list of the missions you have completed, many of them going solo and still succeeding. Little was written about you outside of work: “Behavioral problems (they don't interfere with the mission), don't touch scent blocker tape; will use scent tactics to teammates.”

But the task force was not the most normal one to begin with, so they were not the right one to judge. You'll fit in just fine. 

And it did, for months until something happened on a mission.

There are expensive suppressants, too expensive. And even with your raise, you can't afford them. So you use the slightly worse one, the one that makes you feel every symptom of your heat just one step before collapsing. But as long as anybody else knows you are an omega, everything will work out.

You are used to them already, on the outside you look perfectly fine, a little bit pissed if anything. On the inside, you can feel your blood boil with your fever, your bones hurt as if they were being broken and your inner omega keeps screaming at you to jump any of the men walking mere meters before you. 

The ice-cold water of the river you are walking across helps you with the high temperature of your body, and when it gets too deep you need to swim across you don't really mind it. Until you finally get out, and the corner of the tape of your neck starts to itch. 

You scratch it, pressing it down as you do, but instead; it gets stuck on your glove peeling it back, your nose instantly filling with the reekingly sweet smell of an omega on heat.

You tape it back quickly, trying not to panic, is fine, it was just a second, you are wearing a scarf over the tape, you smelled it because is your own neck. 

Everyone just got out of the water, is fine, they probably didn't smell you. It's fine.

And when they turn around, eyes black with how dilated their pupils are, and you know.

They have smelled you.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Back From Hell

Pairing: Dean Winchester x witch!reader

Warnings: Details of hell, the silver knife test, shower together but nothing NSFW, angst, fluff with hint of angst at the end

Summary: After you sacrafice yourself to save humanity from demons trying to harness your powers, you die and go to hell, only to be ressurected. In the aftermath, the first thing you do is find Dean.

Word Count: 3156

 Heat, blistering heat hit your face and suffocated your lungs. The hair on your face singed off and you felt your skin peel in flakes off your body and the sounds of screams deafen your ears. Something pierced your body, feeling like thousands of needles scratching blood from your flesh the moment it returned, and the singeing of your body started over once more. The squeal of a heavy iron door shrieked through wherever you were, and a tall, dark figure entered. 

                  In a low guttural tone it spoke, “Had enough yet, witch?” 

                  You didn’t answer, closing your eyes and ignoring the figure.

                  “Speak!” He raised his hand and a large blade thrust through your stomach and back out again.

                  You screamed in agony, spitting blood onto what seemed to be the floor, “I thought” you gasped for air, “I thought you hadn’t even started with me yet.” 

                  The creature smiled and pulled out a large iron, lit flaming orange from heat. With slow, long strides, it approached you, running a long-clawed finger over the heated metal. 

                  “Well, in that case, I’d like to see how you feel about your spells now, witch.”

                  In a swift movement, he pressed the burning iron into your skin and began writing in ancient script. You wailed curses in pain as the scorching end of the metal carved into you. 

                  In a matter-of-fact tone, you heard his voice start again and the singe of the metal into your skin pause, “You could join us and make all this stop. Indeed, your magic would be of great value to us.” “Think about it, witch. You’d never endure this again. All for a simple commitment.”

                  “Fuck you.” You spat blood at the form.

                  A low chuckle emitted from the being, “It’s a shame really.” 

                  He pierced your side again, “You’d do so well.” 

                  The torture continued for what could have been hours, days, or weeks longer before you were left alone once again to suffer the same eternal cycle of struggle. You knew time was passing because the routine would stop and start over. It played on and on in the same loop as a broken record, bound to never be shut off. After every 1000 cycles of time, the figure would come in again, usually with a different introduction, but always with the same request. You had died sacrificing yourself to kill a line of demons rampaging through the human world. Using the last of your strength and the legendary magic you possessed, you died after destroying them. Now you were stuck here, in an endless loop of dread. 

                  The day you got out was no different. You awoke with the same terror drowning your senses and making breathing almost impossible. Volcanic heat violently erupted against your skin and began to suffocate you again. The heat was unbearable and boiling tears swept down your face and into your ears. You cried and screamed against the pain and began counting down the cycle repeats until you endured whatever form of torture hell created today. Around the 200th sequence you started hearing unfamiliar noises in the distance. Your stomach churned thinking it was some new creative device to instill pain on a new level. The shrill scream of the metal chamber door opening came early this time and you looked up to see what it was. A tall bright figure stood at the doorway and confidently walked towards you. In the flash of an eye, you felt yourself being picked up and carried away.

                  “Whatever this is,” you mumbled, “I won’t join you.” 

                  A strong, calm voice answered you, “Be calm, this is your deliverance.”

                  “What are you on about?” You looked towards what you thought would be the face, dazed and confused. The landscape around you seemed hazy and you didn’t understand what was going on.

                  “You maintained proper loyalties. This is your reward.” The voice came again, “Now sleep.” 

                  When you awoke again, you awoke in a dark airtight room. You gasped for air but found little. Feeling around, your finger was pricked by the splinter of wood, and you began to understand where you were. 

                  “That’s right.” You thought, “I died. Am I alive? How do I get out?” 

                  With little air left to breathe, you muttered your spell in Latin, “let me out”

                  Violently, with sudden force, the ground around you began to shake and become disrupted. All around you, the wood disintegrated into ash and the ground piled into heaps around the grave. A gust of spinning wind lifted you and released you with a thud onto the grass next to your burial site. You gasped for air, clawing at the ground and squinting to see from the sudden change in light. Your head pounded as you laid there reeling from what had just occurred. 

                  When some of your strength had returned, you sat up and looked around. There was a headstone with your name carved roughly into the stone and the remains of old flower stems strewn about. You wanted to scream for someone, but you knew no one would answer. You wanted Dean, but you knew he wasn’t here. There was no telling how much time had passed since you died and now, but you knew you had to get to civilization. Out in the distance, you heard cattle and followed the sound. Your legs were shaky and uneasy on the ground for the first time since who knows when. Feeling came back to your feet, and you started towards what you thought was life. 

                  After some time, walking through thick woods, you came out into a clearing with a gravel road running around the edge of the tree line. You walked down the road and past the cattle, listening for any sort of engine or signs of humanity. Once you had walked about twenty minutes or so, you came upon a small gas station on the outskirts of a little town, complete with a few run-down cars in the front lawn piled together as some sort of decoration. 

                  A bell dinged when you opened the door and a kind looking man looked up from his newspaper at the counter. You looked at the date and nearly doubled over. It had been exactly a year since you died. For a year, you had been enduring the torture of hell. There was no telling where Sam and Dean were at this point. 

                  “Everything alright dear?” He asked, a concerned look glazing over his face.

                  “Oh, I’m alright.” You answered with a small smile, “Where are we? My car was stolen from me while I was camping.”

                  The man gave you your location as some small town in South Dakota that you didn’t really catch and then started asking questions about the assailment and if you needed medical attention or the police.

                  “I’m fine, thank you. It was a beat-up thing, nothing special. How far are we from Sioux Falls?” 

                  “I’d say we’re about an hour’s drive. A bus comes through here heading towards there in about fifteen minutes if you want to catch it. The next one comes in the morning.”

                  “That’s great. Thank you.” “Do you have a bathroom?”

                  The man happily pointed towards it, “Of course. Down that little hall and to the left.”

                  Once you were in the bathroom you locked the door and threw up. There was nothing being spit out but for the feeling of adrenaline you had knowing how long it’s been and not knowing where anyone was. A few moments passed and you pulled yourself together and collected your thoughts.

                  You scoffed at yourself silently, “I don’t need a bus to take me to Dean. I just need a simple spell.”

                  With the same confidence you held so many times before, you recited your incantation and watched on as you were pinpointed to his direct location. The small bathroom you were in became Bobby’s study room. Sitting at the wooden table, you saw Dean hunched over an old leather-bound book with stacks of others piled high around him. Heavy purple bags hung under his eyes as he read. You couldn’t tell what he was reading about, but you had your guesses. Suddenly, Dean looked up, and turned to face your general direction. He huffed and returned to his book. This hadn’t happened before. 

                  You heard him mumble, “Nothing’s watching you stupid, you’re just tired.”

                  Silently, you headed outside of the bathroom and began for the door.

                  “I’ll just wait outside for the bus, thank you!” You waved.

                  “That’s alright. Have a good one.” 

                  Bus or no bus, you weren’t waiting. You ran behind the building where you were sure no one could see you and began another spell, this one to take you to Bobby’s house. A strong gust of wind blew around you and dust kicked up causing you to close your eyes. Your feet lifted off the ground and the next thing you knew, you were being knocked back onto the ground with force. You groaned, rolling over on the ground and slowly picked yourself back up. You hadn’t been this tired in a long time and you didn’t think the sudden use of so much magic was helping either. 

                  Wordlessly, you walked towards the front door. No one would believe that it was you, especially not Bobby. On the porch you questioned how you’d enter. “Surprise, I’m alive” didn’t seem like the best option, but there didn’t seem to be a better route. You put your hand on the knob of the door and beckoned it to unlock. The click under your fingers signified the effectiveness of your deed and you silently walked inside. Closing the door behind you, you listened for noise. You heard the familiar creaking of the kitchen floor and silently crept through.

                  You peered into the room, not seeing anyone, but sensing that someone must be there.

                  Almost whispering, you said aloud, “Dean?” “Bobby?” “Sammy?” 

                  The moment you stepped inside, a strong arm wrapped around your body and the cool touch of a blade’s edge rested on your neck.

                  Dean’s voice, laced with fury and hate filled the room, “What the fuck are you?” 

                  “Dean it’s me. It’s me! I don’t know why, but it’s me!” Your hands clawed at his arm, trying to get him off you. 

                  “I don’t believe you.” “It was you watching earlier, wasn’t it?” 

                  Before you could answer, you heard running coming from some other part of the house, into the kitchen where you were, “Dean what’s wrong?” 

                  Bobby came in wielding his gun and aimed it at you, “Who the hell are you?” He roared.

                  “Don’t shoot!” You yelled, “I’m Y/N, I’m telling you! Do the tests! Do it!” 

                  Dean’s grip loosened just enough at the offer so that you could disarm and throw him over you. You knew Bobby was trained on you now and you had to be quick. From in front of you, Dean came swinging with the knife he had just picked up, making you duck and jump out of the way. 

                  “I’m telling you the truth!” You swore loudly, “I’m not some demon, Dean.” “Bobby, put that down!”

                  “Like hell you are.” Bobby spat at you.

                  From where he was, Bobby threw a pitcher of holy water at you, waiting for you to ignite somehow. 

                  You spat the water out of your mouth and blinked hard, moving from Dean’s aim as you did. With a shriek, you slipped across the wet floor and into the counter with a thud. Your hip would be bruised after that. 

                  “Dean, hold the fort, I’m getting the flames!” Bobby ran out of the room and left you and Dean alone.             

                  Seeing you vulnerable, Dean jumped onto you, trying to slash at whatever he could before you threw him off you again, cringing a bit when he hit the ground and got right back up to swing once more. 

                  “Dean-” You were exasperated, “That’s enough!” 

                  You threw your arms out and light pulsated from your fingertips. Everything froze in the room where it was, unable to move. Bobby came running back in and before he could make it inside, you sealed off the entrances to the kitchen with a clear wall. His screams for Dean could be heard from the barrier you made. He could see everything happening but couldn’t do anything. 

                  “Give me this!” You took the silver knife from Dean’s hand and stood in front of him, your eyes welling up after getting your first good look at him in months.

                  He looked worse in person. His eyes were red and heavy bags sagged his skin. His undereye was stained purple and a small stubble had grown out. It looked like he’d been wearing the same clothes for more than a day now, and sleep was nowhere to be seen from him.

                  You sighed and dragged the knife across your forearm, “If I were some monster, I couldn’t do this.” 

                  Blood spilled from the spot you dragged the blade over and you softly gasped in pain, squeezing the area once you knew Dean had seen it. 

                  With desperation, you looked at Dean, “Good enough?” 

                  While he was still frozen in place, tears streamed down his cheeks and you released him from the hold, still maintaining the walls to keep Bobby out. You wanted to see him, but you needed Dean first. 

                  Dean released from his frozen state, throwing himself forward at you and pulling you to your knees. He wept as his body shook, arms wrapping in a death grip around you. You cried too, not minding the blood that was now dripping onto the floor. Dean pulled back after a few moments and looked you over. His hands went from being tangled in your hair to wiping the tears off your face and dragging his fingers along your jawline.

                  “It’s really me Dean.” You cried, “I told you I’d always come back to you.”

                  “I tried to find you.” He sobbed, “I promise, I tried to find you.”

                  You raked your fingers through his hair, “You’re okay Dean. You did a good job.” 

                  “Sammy. He left a little while ago to get food.” Dean started rattling things off out of pure shock, telling you about things you hadn’t asked him for, gauging your every reaction to see if you were real. 

                  “Y/N!” You heard Bobby call from the other room, “Let me in damn it!” 

                  The boarder dropped between the kitchen and hall, and he came barreling in, scooping you up into a bear hug and wiping away his tears.

                  “We haven’t stopped looking for a way to get you back since you died.” He said, “It’s not been the same.” 

                  You talked for a second before turning back to Dean who grabbed you once again, not letting you go this time. The two of you stood there forever, basking in each other’s presence. There was little to say but for the occasional “I love you” and “I missed you”. Sam had come back and fondly dropped all the dinner he had just picked up in shock. 

                  Hours came and passed, and the day turned into night. You were disgusting from being in a casket from a year and smelled like dirt and grime. Dean hadn’t left your side all day and wasn’t planning on it anytime soon.

                  You mumbled against his chest “I need a shower.” The two of you were laying on the sofa in silence. 

                  Dean sighed and pulled the two of you off the couch, wordlessly walking you upstairs into the room he was staying in and shutting the door behind him. He kept constant watch over you to make sure you were still there. No matter what you were doing, he was there. It was impossible to do anything alone, even use the bathroom. Dean was convinced you’d slip away, and he’d never see you again. The sound of the shower’s running water pulled you out of your thoughts. Sincere green eyes looked in yours as he hooked his fingers around the hem of your shirt.

                  “You’re fine.” You said softly.

                  With permission to proceed, Dean pulled your remaining clothes off and did the same for himself, guiding the two of you under the hot stream of water. You flinched feeling the water for the first time in what felt like 100 years, startling Dean.

                  He searched for an obvious indicator of what was wrong, “Are you okay?” 

                  “I’m fine.” You answered, “Just not used to this.” 

                  Dean nodded, “tell me if you get uncomfortable.” 

                  From the corner of the shower, Dean grabbed a bottle of your shampoo and lathered it in his hands after you had washed the dirt off your body.

                  “You kept that?” You asked astonished, tears welling up again.

                  “Smells like you. I couldn’t get rid of it.” “The day I got rid of it was the day I accepted that you were gone.” 

                  Dean held you close to him and washed your hair as warm tears streamed down your face. You sniffled and Dean looked at you again, wrapping you in a warm embrace and letting his own tears flow.

                  “I didn’t know what to do without you.” He said honestly, “I can’t function without you.”

                  “I’m sorry Dean.” You said into his shoulder, “I never wanted to leave you.” “I had to.”

                  “I know. It’s our job.” He sniffled, “You did a good thing.” “Let’s just not do it again.”

                  “Agreed.” You chuckled, feeling the last of the conditioner he had run through your hair rinse out.

                  The two of you dried off and changed. He gave you a set of sweatpants and one of his t shirts you always liked to wear. Wordlessly, the two of you fell onto the bed and held each other closely. His breath fanned against your skin in a warm sweep.

                  “Hey. Look at me.” He said, his fingers resting under your chin and pulling you to look at him, “Are you okay?”

                  You hadn’t thought about this yet, only being concerned that you were breathing and with Dean. The flashes of what you currently remembered from hell blipped against your memory and the spaced look you gave Dean told him what he needed to know before you said it.

                  “No.” you answered calmly, “But I know I will be.” 

                  Dean looked at you and spoke sternly but softly, “Don’t hide anything from me. If you have a nightmare, wake me up. If you start feeling all weird about it tell me. I love you Y/N. I don’t want you to hurt.” 

                  “I promise.” You answered, “I love you two.”                  It was a little while before you felt yourself drifting to sleep, but after a while you managed to. You’d deal with the nightmares and daydreams about hell later. For now, all that mattered was that you were back where you belonged. You were back with Dean.

[dixonsstinkysock]

Twins

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Era: Commonwealth (Halloween)

Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: Kissing?

Word Count: 1,850

Summary: Your little boy wants to be just like his Daddy.

A/N: This was inspired by @bambidixon …I couldn’t stop thinking about it plus it’s Halloween time so why not. Kinda rushed so...Hope you enjoy! 

The smell of your famous homemade alfredo sauce wafts through the air. The freshly cut pasta is boiling away on the stove, made from the pasta maker Daryl got you for Christmas. You’ve always had a passion for cooking, making food from scratch whenever you get the chance. Daryl was different, he prefers opening a can of some vegetable and calling it a night. He deserves better than that, so you give him your best. Speaking of Daryl, He, Judith, RJ, and your son Beau sit in the living room watching an old movie, obviously Daryl’s idea. He’s a sucker for old movies, says it reminds him of the only good part of his childhood.

 After a while, your strawberry shaped timer went off, signaling the pasta was ready, another thing Daryl got you. Your kitchen was a mitch-matched mess but you loved it, it gave the place some character. After stirring the thick, creamy sauce you move to grab a strainer. Draining the noodles and combining them with the sauce, you add a bit of chicken you shredded prior, mixing everything together. 

“Dinner!’ You call out, hearing Daryl tell the kids to go sit at the table. You feel a pair of warm, strong arms wrap around you, and then the smell of tobacco.

“I can do the rest” Daryl leaves soft, sweet kisses down your neck. Slowly rocking side to side with you, gently taking the cooking spoon from your hand and stirring the pasta himself. You turn your head to look him in the eyes, his eyes are beautiful, a deep navy blue like the ocean. “Are you sure? I can do it— I don’t mind”

He gives you that sexy, lopsided, half smile. “Nah…go sit. I’m just puttin’ it on plates right? Can’t mess that up…” You reluctantly pull away from him, going to sit down with the kids as Daryl plates the food. After a moment Daryl starts to bring the food in, you stand to help him but he insists you sit and relax. He hands the kids their plates before bringing out yours and his.

The kids say their “Thank you’s” and dig in. You can tell Beau is Daryl’s son by the way they both eat. You always thought it was cute, how alike they both were. The hair, the smile, the attitude…Almost seems like the only thing he got from you was his eyes, well…one of his eyes. He has Heterochromia, one eye blue like his fathers, the other matching yours. Daryl said he was our good luck charm, the best of both of us. Halfway into dinner you decide to speak up–

“So, have any of you thought of what you wanna be for Halloween..?”

RJ was the only one who answered, having thought alot about this. Judith and Beau were silent, still eating.

“Really? That is pretty cool RJ. Judith? Beau? What about you two? Any ideas?” You look at the two, confused at why they were so silent. Usually Judith is the first to answer, and Beau is the same thing every year. He loves that stupid Dinosaur costume. You and Daryl tried keeping up with the holiday’s back in Alexandria, wanting to give the kids some type of normal childhood.

“I don’t know…I don’t think I wanna dress up this year.” Judith murmurs looking down at her food. Daryl finally looks up and stops eating. “How come Jude? You love Halloween.” 

Judith shrugs “I don’t know, I don’t even know what I would be. Plus I’m getting too old to be dressing up…” She takes another bite of her food, obviously done talking.

“Uhh, You're never too old to dress up J. Look at me, I dress up every year.” You look at her pretending to be offended. She looks at you with a “seriously?” face. 

“You’re the same thing every year, it basically doesn’t count.”

Knowing she’s right, you turn to Daryl silently asking him to take over. He shrugs, taking another bite of his pasta, “Okay…What about you baby? What do you wanna be?” Beau doesn’t look up and just shrugs, which is weird because he is usually ecstatic when we ask him, every year telling us he wants to be a Dinosaur. This gets Daryl's attention, and he questions Beau.

“What’s wrong buddy? You don’t wanna wear your Dinosaur costume?” Beau shakes his head and that’s the end of the conversation. 

After dinner, you’re in the kitchen cleaning up. Daryl is getting the kids ready for bed, Beau being more stubborn than usual tonight. Daryl walks in after a while, coming up behind you and leaning on the counter.

“Everything okay? Heard you were having some trouble with Beau..” Daryl sighs and runs a hand down his face.

“Yeah he uh…He wants you to put him down instead.” 

“Okay..Do you mind finishing these dishes for me?” He nods, standing up to take over. You give him a quick kiss as you walk by, a silent thank you while walking to your son's room. 

Knock Knock Knock…

Beau looks up from his picture book, he’s been doing amazing with his reading recently though he still likes to just look at the pictures. “Hey… What’s going on my love?” You make your way towards his bed, sitting on the edge with him. He leans his head on you, snuggling closer.

“Mommy…I know what I wanna be for Halloween…” You look down at him.

“Really? Did you not wanna say it in front of everyone at the table?” He nods moving to sit in your lap. “So…what do you wanna be?”

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking of the right words to say. “Can you promise to keep it a secret?” He looks up at you with his big beautiful eyes and his father’s half smile. 

“Of course, pinky promise.” You stretch out your pinky to lock in your promise, he does the same. 

“Okay…I wanna be Papa for Halloween…” A smile starts to creep in, already imagining the tiny version of Daryl’s angel wing vest, Beau living up to his nickname “Mini Daryl Dixon”. You’d have to get Carol to help with the sewing, it should be hard to find a pair of jeans that fit Beau, that boy is spoiled by Daryl. Finding a toy crossbow might be a challenge, you’d have to go on a few runs maybe…

“Momma?” Beau snaps you out of your planning, you look back down at him. Brushing his hair out of his face and moving to lay him down. 

“Listen, I love that you wanna be your daddy for Halloween, but it is time for bed…Guess what? Tomorrow we can go visit Aunt Carol and ask her to help make your costume okay? We’re gonna get you a vest and a crossbow just like daddy’s.”

“Really?” 

“Yep, and we don’t have to tell your daddy until Halloween. What do you think?”

“Okay..” He nods and gives you a big smile, getting comfortable under the blankets. You give him a quick kiss on his head and stand. “Goodnight Beau, I love you.” 

“Love you too, momma..” He flips over to look out his window and falls asleep. 

Daryl’s sitting on the couch, just having finished cleaning the kitchen. You sit next to him, laying on his shoulder and closing your eyes. “He okay,,?”

“Yeah, just wanted to talk to me..” 

Daryl looks down, carding his fingers through your hair as much as he could. “Bout what?” You smile, keeping your promise to Beau. “Nothin important, just about how much he loved me…of course” Daryl looked back up at the TV. “Right…Of Course.” 

It was the day of Halloween, everyone was getting ready to go trick-or-treating. Judith decided at the last minute she actually did want to dress up. Lucky for her you knew that would happen and prepared a few options for her, Now you were helping Beau finish his costume. You and Carol were able to sneak out a few times looking for a toy crossbow and a child-sized leather vest. You two found the crossbow no problem, the vest was a different story. Carol gave up looking and decided to make one from scratch, finding a normal-sized leather vest and cutting it down to Beau’s size. 

You and Beau are in his room putting his costume on, he was very picky about how everything was sitting so you two have been in there for a while. Daryl, Judith, and RJ are already ready to head out, the three waiting by the door for us. Daryl goes as himself every year…how original, RJ is going as a walker, and Judith is a Samurai, in honor of their mother Michonne. 

“You two almost done?” Daryl yells from the living room, impatient as usual. 

“Yes, one more minute!” You respond, doing the last finishing touches on Beau’s makeup. He wanted his Daddy’s scar as well, practically begged for it. After finishing his costume, he opens the door slightly and shouts out. “Daddy! Close your eyes, you can’t see it yet!”

“Okay..Okay..” Daryl complies, just wanting to leave and get this over with.

“You promise you aren’t looking?” 

“Yes! I promise! You better hurry or all the good candy is gonna be gone boy!” 

You walk out first, well..Beau pushed you out first, nervous of how his Dad was going to react to his costume. You two make it down the hallway, Daryl is standing by the entryway, waiting for Beau to tell him he can look. “Okay..now you can look…” Beau is standing beside you, fidgeting with his hands, crossbow strapped to his back. His vest Carol sewed up for him is identical to Daryl’s, blue wing and all. He’s got the stitched up jeans and a strip of red cloth tied around his neck to imitate Daryl’s bandana.

“No fuckin’ way…Are you shittin’ me?” Daryl looks up at you in disbelief, you can tell he loves it. Judith and RJ are so interested in Beau’s costume they don’t even say “Swear jar”. Beau looks up at Daryl, a bit anxious from his reaction. “Do you like it..?”

“Do I like it..?” Daryl crouches down to his level. “I think that’s the best costume I’ve ever seen, Little man. We’re basically the same person now…” Beau visibly relaxes after Daryl says that, now excited to leave. Daryl stands and opens the door for the kids, signaling that it was time to leave. You and Daryl hang back watching the kids walk down the hallway, glad to finally get going. 

“So..? You like it?” You lean on Daryl’s shoulder, wanting a moment to yourselves before being crowded by the hundreds of people outside.

“I love it…I love you. You’re amazin’..” Daryl leans his head on yours, leaving a soft kiss on the crown of your head. You lean into his touch, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself to follow the kids.

“…I love you too.” You and Daryl finally make your way out the door, closing and locking it, trying to catch up with the kids. 

[kombuuuu]

NEEDD someone to write more about simp!miles and how he finally asks reader out. I love him w the trope friends to lovers i definitely feel like he would try to ask his s/o out and fail to so many times😭😭

Jitters.

Simp!Miles Morales x Gn!Reader

“Oh my god you’re clueless.”

THIS WAS LIKE FIVE MINUTES ADTER MY CALL FOR POST LMFAOOO OKAY BBY I GOT U ‼️

2 + 1 Trope? Got that DOWN baby.

—

The first time Miles had ever met you, it had been the most bland, unimportant, nothing-burger of a day he’d ever been privy to living.

The weight of his classmates gazes settled uncomfortably, but familiarly, onto his back. The whispers they shared with one another having him strain to hear over the beating of his own finicky heart.

A boring, low effort slide show casted on a lazily erased white board was barely keeping him from falling asleep.

And yet his foot wouldn’t stop tapping, the nerves alighting something within him like sparks near a gas leak. The way his heart was beating wasn’t just from the whispers flown around he knows weren’t about him. (He couldn’t help it, what if they are?)

There was something else, like an anticipation boiling his blood vessels. Spidey-sense through the roof and heart rate accelerating.

He stanced his feet, twisting them slowly to shoot out of his seat when ready, as if a crazed, murderous version of him was going to burst the the door at any moments notice.

The handle twisted, his vision honed in, ears sharp-tuned to every movement the muse terry figure made.

And as the door swung open, the breath he was holding left him. Exasperation and amazement at the person in front of him, the harmless, beauty of a person.

“Ah. Mx.[Last Name], Pleasure of you to join us,” His Teacher snarked, adding a hasty ‘finally’ to the end under his breath.

Miles shot the man a dirty look before focusing back onto you, as seemingly everyone had.

You caught people’s attention from the get-go, aura leaking something trusting, something good. Like out of everyone in the world he could talk to, he knows you’d listen in earnest.

You made eye contact with him, your eyes glistening against the light of the projector, he almost sighed.

You looked away again, addressing your Teacher. “Sorry Sir, I didn’t exactly know where to go.” You politely laughed it off, disrespect to authority wasn’t exactly something you wanted on your track record the moment you got to this place.

“It’s—“ He dragged a hand down his face whilst you shuffled in your spot. “It’s fine. Just go sit next to uh.-“

Miles say up a little straighter, a silent competition with the other people in his class crawling for your attention.

“Miles. Morales raise your hand.”

He felt almost smug as he did Small huffs of disappointment coming from his undeserving peers. You smiled at him, waltzing over with a confidence he could only dream, and sat in the chair beside him. He watched you unpack your stuff as the professor drawled on, and when you caught his watchful eye, you waved.

He blushed. The whispers definitely weren’t about him now.

—

One.

You were putting you books in your locker when a small tap was placed upon your shoulder.

Catching your attention, you stuffed the remaining books inside carelessly and turned to face the subject of curiosity.

The boy you had sat next to your first date stood shuffling foot to foot before you. Nervously scratching his neck and kicking his Jordans.

“Hey I- Uhh.” He coughed, scared his voice would crack in front of you, he almost cringed at the thought. “I’m Miles-“

“Morales. I remember you.” You smiled sweetly up at him, you did remember him. It was no lie, he was kind of hard to forget. “Oh, you do?”

“I mean, you were the only one in that class willing to sit next to a stranger. And you were pretty nice about it too.”

“Uhuh, yeah, that’s me.” Only one willing? With a person like you showing up? The entire room was glaring at him.

“Thanks for that, by the way.”

You closed your locker and turned back to him.

“Yeah, no problem. It was no big deal, really.” He rushed out, your presence alone making him nervous.

“Anyways I-,” he cleared his throat again. “I was wondering if you’d y’know..” He looked at you through his thick eyelashes, god he was pretty. “I’d…?”

“Wannahangoutsometime.”

You stumped for a moment, trying to figure out what he’d just said before laughing lightly. He swears he saw heaven the second you’d smiled at him.

“Yeah we can hang out, right now actually!”

Grabbing his arm and walking with him as you chatted. His breathing stuttered, unprepared for your misunderstanding of his intentions, but okay with the outcome. Having your arm linked with his, pulling him wherever you wanted to go like some puppy. Giggling and whispering to him something he couldn’t pay attention to over the sweetened sound of your voice. He was pretty damn okay with it.

—

Two.

It had been around three months since you had met Miles. And although you hated the thought, you only had your mean professor to thank. So, kudos to him.

You were into the boy, no doubt. His charming personality additional to the kind of dorky thing he had going on, you loved it. A month after the initial meeting, he had finally got the courage to ask you to hang out with him. It was probably the most adorable thing you’d ever seen watching him stumble upon his words.

Now you sat with him on the rooftop of his apartment building.

A picnic blanket had been laid for the both of you by Miles himself, and his mother had made snacks.

You had just met his mother, Rio. The sweetest woman you’d probably ever met. And by the way Miles and Rio interacted, you could only think how good of a man he was.

You can always tell the intentions of a man, by his treatment of his mother.

“Your ma is really nice.”

“You think? She’s kinda protective of me.” He turned to look at you through his peripheral, leaving enough space it wasn’t obvious. “I think it’s cute, she cares for you, y’know?” You shifted yourself to face him, the Sundown light glittering against his smooth skin. He looked beautiful here, you thought. He looks beautiful everywhere.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Good, ‘s always good to know you’re loved.”

Miles’ heart stuttered in his chest, sucking in a quick breath and turning himself to face you.

“Mhmm.”

You looked up at him, leaning on your hand, drifting closer to him subconsciously.

He let himself drift as well, your voices quieting without either knowledge.

“Miles?” Your soft words questioned him, doey eyes gazing up at him, heart on your sleeve.

“I wanna—“ His sentence was cut off, a blaring siren sounding in his head, nerves.

“I think I might..—“

He huffed, mad at himself for being unable to speak.

“Do you want- Holy shit.”

You laughed, leaning back, a genuine glee in your eye.

“Do I want holy shit?-“ You giggled, he felt his heart flutter along with his disappointment (once more).

“-Not really, no.” You kept giggling, the serenity of your moment with Miles and his fumbling an apparent treat to you. He buried his face in his hands and groaned loudly. Only furthering your hysteria, “Leave me alone.” He dragged the ‘lone’ dramatically before flopping back against the blankets. Huffing and staring up at you from his spot. The smile on your face was a quick fix for his soured mood, not that it was that sour in the first place. But knowing a moment of undeniable spark like that, had you smiling and giggling after, even if it led to nothing. Had his hopes and his pulse rate rising.

—

Miles was head over heels for you. He was smitten, a total and complete dog for your affection. Sitting at home sulking when you weren’t there to hang out with him. Making you add his steam solely so he can play games with you.

A puppy of a man, god he wasn’t even ashamed.

“Dude, you just need’a ask ‘em out already.” Hobie served no help to his ever growing dilemma with you, but did serve to humiliate his seemingly non-existed romantic experience. “I’m *trying, man. They just keeps misunderstanding.” “Are they taking the hint?” “What hint?” He looked up from his slouched spot in his gaming chair. Spinning the thing in circles idly. “You haven’t given ‘em a hint?” Hobie blanched at Miles, like it was some obvious mistake.

“What. Hint.”

“Oh my god, Miles.”

—

He still didn’t get it, Hobie had explained his way of ‘hinting’ to someone he liked them. Through slight touches and subtle looks, a wink here and there. But not a cringey wink (Miles would argue they’re all cringey.), the ones where you feel like you’re part of a secret. This would be helpful to him, sure. If had hadn’t done everything with you already, except the winking, that is.

He did touch you, he did catch your eye when everyone else around looked away. He kissed your forehead and held your hand. You seemed borderline allergic to walking without you arm linked through his. All of there’s things that Hobie said were couple things, he’d already nailed. So why couldn’t you just.. date each other?

“I don’t know, it’s not like that.”

“But it is,” Hobie pointed to the centre of Mile’s’ forehead and flicked. “You guys are quite literally already dating.” “No, not really?”

“Oh my god you’re clueless.”

Hobie sighed, jumping off the bed and stretching his arms above his head. Miles grumbling a pouted ‘am not..’, Hobie settled him a look, taking a deep breath and continuing.

“Miles, mate, You both go to each other for comfort. You cry to each other, you find solace in one another. You touch and cuddle and sleep in the same bed.” He took another breath, seemingly needing a lot, “The only things you’re missing, are kissing each other for real. And calling each other your partners.”

“And if they end up saying no?”

“Then i’ll smash my guitar.”

Miles paused, considering the severity.

“Okay, okay i’ll do it.”

“Thank fuck.”—

—

+one

Miles had spent the better of an entire afternoon hyping himself up (and subsequently psyching himself out), before he finally had managed to make it your door and knock.

He was beyond nervous, the jitters in his bones crawling under his skin like spiders. Worse than normal, he observed.

A shuffle from inside your apartment had brought him back down to Earth. Everything suddenly becoming very real to him as you opened the door grumpily.

“Oh i’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“Oh, Miles!” Your pout had almost instantly been lifted, a smile grazing your face sleepily, it was so late, he shouldn’t have come.

“I’m so sorry- It’s late. I should—“

“No!”

“No?”

It was your turn to get bashful, twisting the hem of your shirt in your hands nervously. “Stay Miles.”

He softened, posture relaxing at your tone.

“Don’t want you running away again.”

That caught his attention. “Wha-“ “I was wondering when you’d finally show up outta’ the blue.” You glanced down to his lips then back. The amber in his eyes haunting your dreams, in such a welcomed way.

Miles couldn’t take it, with the way you spoke, so soft and fragile. To the things you were saying, confident and headstrong. He couldn’t fucking take it.

His hands shot up to your face, caressing the curves of your cheeks and slope of your jaw. The trails of hair behind your ears his fingers just grazed. He brought himself down to your height once more, standing on your porch step. Like some sappy rom-com.

“Tell me to stop.” He was near breathless. You didn’t, you didn’t say a thing. You simply carded your deft hands over thick curls, and pulled him down to meet you. His eyes fluttered closed and lips met yours. He felt like crying.

Like after the months of pining for you. For trying and trying for your love, for your affection, that everything in his life had only ever led to this one point. And everything farther was his happy ending. The spiders under his skin stopped crawling, settling into the crooks of his bones and finding home. He wasn’t shaking. He was still.

And as you pulled away to breathe, ogling up at him with nothing but love to give he smiled and laughed just like you did.

ITS FUCKING 3 AM I GENUINELY HAVENT SLEPT THIS IS SO CUTE

(he is ⬇️)

[citricacidprince]

Does relativity falls Ford still wipe Stans memory's? And if so what is the aftermath?

Yes!! Ford still does erase Stan’s memory, I even did a drawing of it right here cause thinking about it hurts me soooo bad hehe

As for the aftermath, I have sooooo many thoughts

Stan still gets his memory back like in the show, however due to being 13 I like to think he didn’t come out completely unscathed. After all your mind is still growing at that age so i bet you ain’t gonna get out of a mind wipe without any side effects.

His mind quickly remembers everything he WANTS to remember or anything he considered important, however things Stan would rather forget or didn’t think were very important took longer to come back to him, if at all.

Here’s a quick doodle I did of Stan post series not remembering who his dad was for like 3 days because I thought of that randomly and it made me feel ill :)

Stanley also begins to struggle in school, but like, 3 times worst before. Again, the memory wipe wasn’t very kind to him education wise, that stuff didn’t come back to him very easily. Stanford, who is easily the world most guilt ridden child, is dead set on making sure Stan can pass every grade with him, even if Stan has to cheat off his papers. Stan insists that Ford doesn’t have to go out of his way to help him but Ford won’t take no for an answer.

After Weirdmageddon the twins are attached at the hip and get really codependent on eachother and that doesn’t ease up as the years go on. Stanley feels more dumb the years go on but he feels happy that least he has his brother with him and Ford doesn’t treat him like an idiot. Stanford is constantly fretting over Stan, making sure he’s around if Stan has any memory lapses, or about to tackle someone like a rabid dog if they try fight Stan. It’s not the most healthy codependent relationship, but the two feel safe with each other and after all they’ve been through they can be a bit unhealthily codependent, as a treat <3

Filbrick still kicks Stanley out of the house when he’s 17, this time because he was furious at the fact Stanley wasn’t going to be able to graduate due to low grades and too many write ups. The main difference between the show here is that Stanford doesn’t even hesitate to walk out the door with Stanley, even when his dad tells him to go back inside. Ford almost lost his brother forever when he was a kid due to letting his father’s words bleed into his head, he refuses to ever let that happen again.

Stanley tearily calls Dipper and Mabel and tries to explain what happened before Stanford takes the phone and talks for Stan, explaining what happened and asking if the two could stay with them. Dipper and Mabel don’t even need to think about it, instantly fussing over the two as their voices overlap each others asking if the two are okay, if they need money, do they need to come get them, etc etc. Stanley insists that they’re fine and he’ll just take the 2-3 day drive to Oregon just like he did last summer when he got his permit.

The next morning their mother sneaks them into their old home and lets them take whatever they want and a wad of money she had hidden away, telling the two that she’s sorry but she was backed into a corner and didn’t know what else to do. Gave the boys a kiss on the cheek and ushered them out before their father caught on that they were there.

The drive is pretty quiet, the only disturbances being Ford asking Stan if he needs a break from driving to which Stan immediately turns down, and Stan guiltily saying that Ford didn’t have to leave with him to which Ford immediately shuts down that train of thought and says that where ever Stan goes, he’ll go.

When the two arrive at Gravity Falls Dipper and Mabel instantly squeeze the two to death, being nonstop worried ever since they got the call. Mabel helped the boys unpack while Dipper made a couple low threats into the phone and soon enough he had custody over the twins. (His blood boils when he thinks about how Filbrick didn’t even hesitate to give custody of Stanley, but fought about Stanford. Makes him happy that he never met the man in person.)

Stanley and Stanford finish off High School in Gravity Falls. Ford begins college courses online and Stan begins working at the Mystery Shack with Mabel and Anjelita, finding out he quite enjoyed theatrics and art, much to Mabel’s enjoyment.

I still want Stan and Ford to sail. Even if it’s just for a summer I want them to sail so bad. They deserve it.

I may put these boys through hell but I want them to be happy by the end of this that if they aren’t I think I would cry 💥

[dwaekkicidal]

can I request bratty!reader experiencing a sub drop for the first time with seungmin and how he handles that please?

not blatantly bratty but i hope you still like it <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 2.3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: gn!reader, very brief mention of partner sharing, comfort, is this angst lol?, subdrop, domdrop, aftercare, no actual smut but mentions of rough sex & spanking, mentions of hard dom seungmin

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: this is a friendly reminder that aftercare and all the “boring” stuff is sosososososo important irl!!!! no matter how hard/mean i write the boys, consent is always a must & aftercare should be given after sessions where the sub or dom needs it!!

not really proofread<3

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

It had all started at the cuties dorm. You had come over a few hours ago to spend time with Seungmin, only to find that he was in the middle of a game against Jeongin and wasn’t willing to back down just yet. He loved you! And you knew that very well. But you couldn’t lie that his being so focused on trying to beat Jeongin, instead of being focused on the booty shorts and thigh highs that you wore just for him, made you feel some type of way.

After about an hour of sitting behind them and watching them argue back and forth, you became insanely bored and walked out of the room to find another man who would indulge and allow you to entertain yourself. And, to your disappointment, your boyfriend didn't even notice you leaving. At least not right away. He didn’t notice until over an hour later when he walked in on you lying on your stomach in Minho’s bed, lying next to him and giggling with him over something on your phones.

He stood quietly in the doorway as he watched the both of you. Though he was happy to see you get along so well with somebody he was that close to, his patience was thinning with every passing second thanks to the short shorts and the literal hours of losing to Jeongin. It was a surprise he lasted that long without freaking out, but the cherry on top was when he watched Minho sit up straight to stretch.

The older man glanced down at your bare thighs and Seungmin followed his eyes to the area where your shorts were ridden up, doing nothing to cover the bottom of your ass cheeks. And then he had the audacity to ask, “Where’s Seungminnie at?” as he licked his lips.

Seungmin’s teeth clenched as he cleared his throat loudly and walked up to the bed. No words left his mouth as he dragged you to the edge of the bed, forcing you to your feet, and leading you to his empty room. He normally had the decency to wait until the guys were gone to try having sex with you but after what he witnessed, he couldn’t bring himself to care very much.

You see, Minho had taken a fancy to you from the very beginning. From the first day Seungmin introduced you to the boys, he could feel Minho’s interest radiating off of him. And he didn’t exactly mind. In fact, he thrived off of it! To the point where, on occasion, you were shared between the two. There were rules put in place, and thankfully Minho had never broken any, but the occurrences themselves were still rare. So the thought of Minho wanting you so badly and seeing the pure desire in Minho’s eyes as he looked at his girlfriend only made Seungmin’s blood boil.

He was genuinely blinded by his rage and he didn’t think much before he shoved you onto the bed, pulling your shorts and underwear down around your thighs where they worked as if they were bound. Only possessive thoughts filled his mind as he pummeled into you, pulling orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. He was always insatiable over you, but today it was much worse.

You had lost track of how much time had passed. Everything was blurred together thanks to the almost constant overstimulation and harsh spanks that left your ass cheeks raw. He had made it clear to you what exactly had made him upset, but he was so caught up in his feelings that he hadn’t taken a second to double-check anything with you like he normally would. Not the name-calling or the impact play, which was normally fine, but was a bit too much given the circumstances. Which ultimately led to the worst kind of aftermath.

The tears were the first sign, though neither of you paid any attention to them because it was a normal occurrence during your sessions. It wasn’t until your mind had drifted elsewhere that you realized what was happening. Then, something in your brain convinced you to keep quiet and not speak up.

The panic set in after another orgasm was pulled from you and you realized the slaps to your ass cheeks no longer felt good, instead only felt painful and somehow managed to make you feel disgusting. You were so zoned out that you didn’t notice him pulling out and finishing on your back until he leaned forward and placed a kiss on your shoulder, a silent way he liked to use to tell you that he was finished and it was time to come back down to earth.

Which you definitely did! Just not in a good way. And that was proven even further by the way you flinched and sniffled in response to his kiss. He froze in place, fearing the worst and pulling his face away to call out to you, though it went unnoticed. Your name was called a few more times before he pulled away from you completely, leaving you feeling alone and cold while still in pain. A sob left your lips and he rushed to turn you on your side before he joined you on the bed, laying face to face. “Breathe, baby. I’m right here.” 

He saw a single glimpse of your tear-clad face that was contorted in something that was clearly not from pleasure and pulled you against his chest, letting his hand rub up and down your back as you clung to him and cried harder. A few minutes passed before your cries died down and he moved a mere inch or two away from you, only for your nails to dig into his arm and cause him to quickly return to skin-to-skin contact with you. He stayed quiet for a minute or two, calming himself down and trying to remember all the steps he put in place for situations like this.

“Talk to me, honey. What hurts the most right now?” You managed out an almost incoherent list of the areas with physical pains and he immediately took action. He wrapped one of your legs around his waist to take the pressure off of your ass then wiggled his arm up under your neck to rest his hand against your scalp, where he massaged it thoroughly as he checked in with you again.

He went down a mental checklist of things he did during the session and made sure every last one of them was fixed, as much as he could in this position, before he focused on your mental state. “What can I do? What do you need right now?”

He waited patiently as you racked your brain, laying out your feelings one by one in an attempt to figure out exactly what was going on. You managed to verbalize some feelings before he caught on to the other ones, and then he took his time trying to mend what he could, making sure to reassure and praise you for everything and anything he could think of.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I should’ve checked in with you. But it’s okay. I’m here and we’re not going to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Shhh shhhh… I got you. I’m not going anywhere, I swear on my life that I won't leave unless you want me to."

"I love you so so much baby. You mean the world to me."

"I'm so proud of you for not falling down the stairs yesterday"

The last one was more of a poke of fun to test how far in you were, and he was more than relieved to hear a muffled laugh leave your lips. "You're so stupid." He laughs lightly and hugs you tighter. The two of you laid there for another 15 or so minutes before he deemed it time to get up, wanting to get you cleaned up and dressed.

You were so out of it that you hadn’t noticed the darkening skies until Seungmin poked your cheek with his nose, snapping you out of your daze. Your eyes cracked open and you cracked your neck to look up at him, a small smile taking over his beautiful features as he locked eyes with you. “There’s my pretty baby. Let’s go shower, okay? Together.”

You groaned and shoved your face back into his neck, clanking your skull against his jaw and making him moan in pain. You both laughed lightly and you went to mumble out an apology only for him to shush you. He pushed himself up and pulled you to stand with him, then led you to the bathroom where he started a hot shower. It was a quick one, just something to get you both clean so he could swap the shower head off and instead fill the tub up.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was hushed and you could tell he was forcing a smile so you nodded, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you into him, still cautious about your raw ass. You pushed your lips against his and ran your hands up and down his arms as he kissed you back. It was sweet and soft, and it would have lasted for much longer had he not remembered that you guys were in a still-filling tub.

He pulled away from you and cursed, reaching to the handle and turning the water off completely. When he turned back around he had an ugly expression that said “Oh fuck, that’s too much water” on his face and you laughed at him, watching him drain some of the water before he guided you down into it. He rested his back against the tub and pulled you until your back was flush against him.

The two of you lay there for what you assumed was an hour. He was refilling the water the second it got too cold and, thanks to the faucet being on the side, it was no struggle to do so. Once your brain had returned to normal, and you no longer felt the world crumbling around you, you vocalized to him that you were ready to get out. He helped you out and wrapped you in a warm towel before wrapping himself and waddling with you back into his bedroom.

You both dressed at the same time, though Seungmin had no plan to stop his aftercare and he stayed as close to you as physically possible. He even wrapped his arms around your waist and steered you towards the bed with him. You could tell he was still shaken up about the whole situation, despite the fact that he hid it so well, and you settled on the bed first before gesturing to him to lay on your chest.

He sat quietly for a second, staring down at you with a frown before crawling onto the bed and laying on top of you. “I love you so much, Seungmin. You're the best thing that ever happened to me.” He stays quiet and shoves his face into your neck, sighing shakily as he processes your words. He starts to say something but you tug at his ear gently, telling him to stop talking.

“You take such good care of me all the time, even after bad sessions like this. We both fucked up during it, so please don’t be so harsh on yourself. If I didn’t trust you to be my dom, I wouldn’t have given you the option to be it in the first place.” He sighs loudly against your neck and makes a noise of agreement, wrapping his arms around your torso and nuzzling further into you.

A few minutes later your voice suddenly reaches his ears again, “No more scenes with Min.” His head snaps up to yours and you almost choke on your spit in laughter. He holds a confused face, one that holds the slightest bit of guilt in it as he furrows his eyebrows. “...Are you sure?” You nod and tilt your head to look at him better.

“At least for a little bit. It’s nice and all but me and him aren’t here for each other, we’re here for you. I only love you, and I think you-” A knock at the door cuts you off and Seungmin stares up at you, silently asking you if it is okay to let somebody in. You smile and nod, causing him to call out to the unknown person. He tenses up the second the door cracks and Minho’s head pokes inside.

“Hungry? Made both of your favorites for dinner.”

Now it's your turn to look at Seungmin expectantly and he smiles wryly before nodding his head sideways, beckoning Minho towards the bed. Minho pushes the door open more and walks in with two plates of food, setting them on the nightstand before smiling at the both of you. He ruffles both of your hair then playfully pinches Seungmin and runs out of the room with no further words.

You laugh as Seungmin yells a few curses at the closed door before settling back against your chest with a pout. “Bitch…” Your nails rake through his hair as you peek at the food, the hunger after a long few hours finally setting in. Seungmin watched quietly, not doing much to hold back a smile at the bickering between him and his hyung. It was stupid and childish in a way, but it helped solidify the statement you made earlier.

The food is scarfed down in no time and more apologies are exchanged before you inevitably fall asleep in his arms, with Seungmin glancing down at you with a smile resting on his face. He stares for a while longer before sleep pulls at his body and he rests his cheek against your temple.

“I love you so much.”

Taglists:

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

[yourtamaki]

o, come, be buried / a second time within these arms

zoro x f!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: hurt/comfort, sex as a form of comfort, fingering, cuddlefucking, creampie, scent kink, oral (f!receiving), cum play, cum eating, violent imagery, bit of aftercare

DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE

Consider making a donation to the Palestine Children's Relief Fund

Masterpost of Vetted Fundraisers to aid families in Gaza and Sudan

there is a storm building inside you.

zoro can see it raging even as you keep your face turned from him. the room dark save for the moonlight that streams in through the open window, just bright enough to spot your outline curled up in bed, covers tucked up under your chin. lines of tension keep your back rigid and shoulders hunched, your breathing shaky and slow as you tell him to leave.

you’re vicious gales and crashing waves wrapped into one, devastating and beautiful.

“you don’t want to be around me right now,” you say, words muffled by your pillow.

“don’t tell me what i want,” he doesn't try to bite back the anger that laces itself through his tone. zoro has never censored himself from you before and he wasn't about to start now.

ire thrums hot in his veins, burning and boiling away beneath his skin. he has always given you every part of himself, heart served in his open, blood-stained palms, for better and most certainly for worse.

the thought of you holding yourself back from him, that there’s a part of you that he’s being denied, sets his teeth on edge. he'd been searching for you all day, prowling around the ship like a caged animal until finally found his way to where his search should have began, the tiny storage room that had become your shared quarters.

“you pissed at me?” he asks.

“no,” you say.

“want me to kill anyone?”

“no.”

it grates on him that there’s no enemy for you to sic him on, no bones to crack, no blood to spill. your pain deserves retribution and he is the blade that would carry it out, if only you would wield him, "then i'm staying."

"zoro, please. just go."

“who do you think you’re protecting by hiding yourself away?” he steps in closer, right to the edge of the bed but makes no move to touch you, “cause it’s not me and it sure as fuck isn’t you.”

you throw a dagger of a glare his way, so sharp it could make a man bleed before he even knew he’d been cut. he doesn’t care. a small price to pay for your gaze.

zoro is too loyal of a beast to flinch away the first time you flash your fangs at him.

you hold his gaze for a moment longer before turning back around to face the wall once more. in your silence, he resolves himself to sitting on the floor by your bedside until he can be of some fucking use to you. zoro would lick crumbs of affection out of the palm of your hand. if the closest you'll let him be to you right now is knelt on the ground, keeping vigil, then he'll take it. he's crouched halfway down when he hears you call for him.

“baby, get in.”

how you have enough sweetness in you to spare him a kind word even when you have none for yourself, he will never understand. zoro takes a moment to pull his swords free from where they hang on his hip, propping them up against the wall where they’ll still be in arm's reach before he pulls back the covers and settles in next to you.

you're cold to the touch despite having been buried under the blanket, dressed only in a simple shirt and underwear and zoro is quick to throw an arm around you and pull you in by your waist until you’re pressed flush against him, his other arm slipping under your head for you to rest on. he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, breathes you in and for a moment he can almost smell the scent of your hurt lingering on your skin, thick and bitter as blood.

there’s an urge, ever present and never sated, to dig his teeth into the side of your neck and bite down until iron coats his tongue, to taste you, know you, in a way no one else ever has or will. it’s an urge he can only hold at bay by pressing open mouth kisses to your throat and feeling your pulse flutter against his tongue.

you slowly start to melt in his arms, the tension you wore like ill-fitting armour stripping off you piece by piece with every kiss until you’re free from its hold, warm and light.

“better?” he asks, slipping his hand under your shirt and pressing his palm flat against your stomach just to feel it rise and fall, follows the rhythm of it and matches his breaths to yours. the reassurance that you're whole and safe is a cool balm to his worries.

“a little bit,” you whisper.

“but you need more,” it’s hardly a question that needs to be answered, not with the way you’ve started to shift in his hold.

“you don’t have to—”

“i do. i want to.”

and there’s more he could say, he knows there is. pretty poetry to comfort you, sweet nothings to soothe you. but what use would empty words be to you? they can’t hold you, can’t keep you warm, can’t wipe your tears.

zoro can. he will. for you, he’d do anything and everything. all and more.

the room settles into silence, his offer hanging in open air and ripe for your taking. you don't reach out for it, not yet, but zoro doesn't mind. he can wait.

“impatience is a swordsman’s undoing,” his master had once told him a lifetime ago when zoro’s palms were still soft enough to bleed and grief was a companion so new it still stepped on his heels as it dogged his footsteps.

of the two of you, patience has always been your strong suit rather than his. it was your patience that brought you together, when you stepped into his life with a hand outstretched and he met you the same way he met all good things that tried to enter his life, with a snarl and blood stained teeth.

zoro kept you at a careful distance with all the wariness of a distrustful stray, always watching but never getting close. it was you who slowly bridged the gap, gracing him with kindness and company he'd done nothing to earn but gorged himself on anyway.

it was only because of your patience that he knows the bliss of falling asleep and waking up with the warm weight of you in his arms. the least he could do is pay you back with what you've always freely given him. so zoro holds you close and waits.

and waits.

and smiles, sharp and proud, when you take his hand that still rests on your stomach and lower it until he’s cupping you between your legs, the heat of you searing his palm even through your panties.

your hips jerk when zoro doesn’t move, a soft whine catching in your throat when his other arm circles around your chest and holds you still against him, “zoro.”

“i've got you,” he says with a kiss behind your ear, toying with the waistband of your panties before sliding his hand inside.

he slides his middle finger down your slit, dipping his fingertips into the slick heat of your cunt to wet them before drifting back up to where you need him most. there’s no rush as zoro rubs neat, tight circles against your clit, slow and firm even as you buck and try to grind down on him.

he wants you to feel every moment of this, to savour it, to drown in pleasure so deep you never want to come up for air.

another kiss to your throat, one on your jaw and you finally melt back into him, legs spreading just enough for zoro reach lower and start to ease a thick finger inside you.

“there you go, baby, that’s it,” he says, “let me in.”

you swallow him down to his knuckle, trembling in his arms when zoro slips in a second finger and crooks them to rub against the spot that never fails to pull the prettiest sounds out of you.

he shifts, trying to move lower between your legs without pulling his fingers out so he can taste where you’re wet and aching for him but you stop him by threading your fingers through his short strands, keeping him in place.

“what?” he asks, “you don’t want my mouth?”

“no, not— not right now. just stay close. keep holding me. please,” he hates how small you sound.

“i’m here. i’m right here. fucking kills me knowing you were in here hurting by yourself."

"i'm sorry.”

"don’t,” the anger he felt when you tried to send him away rears up once more. an apology is the last thing he wants to hear from you right now, “just find me next time. doesn't matter when or where. you find me. got it?"

“yeah, i got it,” you start rocking back into him, soft ass grinding against his clothed cock, “zoro.”

“i know. i know you want it, baby, but i gotta stretch you out first. can’t fit when you’re this fucking tight.”

your answer is lost in a moan as he eases in a third finger, thumb pressing against your clit. the angle isn’t kind on his wrist but zoro keeps his pace steady, spreading and curling his fingers until you’re soaked and soft and ready for him. he pulls his hand out of your panties, kissing your nape when you whine from the loss before he licks the taste of you off his fingers.

“i'm not going anywhere,” he says, "keep your eyes on me."

zoro waits until you turn in his arms and he has your gaze before he gets out of bed and undresses, leaving his clothes in a pile next to his blades. you sit up to tug your panties down and kick them off, your shirt following soon after.

you’re bare and soft and holding out a hand for him to take. zoro laces his fingers through yours and joins you once more, stripped of his swords, his clothes, and his restraint.

you don't crash into each other so much as you collide into a bruise of a kiss. it aches more than it soothes but the shared pain of it only has him pressing closer to you, your soft tits pressed to his chest, legs intertwined and weeping cock trapped between your stomachs.

he reaches up to cup your cheeks and breaks the kiss to pull back just far enough to take in the sight of you, all swollen lips and glassy eyes. it takes a heartbeat longer than it should for you to focus on him. the storm is still raging inside you but zoro refuses to lose you to it. he stands firm against the buffeting winds that threaten to rip you away from him and swipes his thumbs over your cheekbones.

“still with me?” he asks.

you turn into his touch and kiss the rough centre of his palm, “‘m here.”

"then take what you need, baby."

you slide a hand between your bodies, taking his cock into your hand and guiding his tip to your entrance. even with all the prep, it takes some time to sink inside you, time you spend peppering kisses across his face. he bears them as he bears the scars that litter his body. with pride. with honour.

zoro bottoms out with a low groan, grabbing you under your knee and hooking your leg over his hip to slip in that much deeper. every sense is flooded with you. the wet heat of you wrapped around his cock, the heady scent of your sweat and need swimming around his head, soft skin beneath his palms.

entangled and weaved together like this, heart and breath as one, zoro is drawn into the eye of your storm.

your pleasure is his, your pain his own.

still, clear waters surround you both as he waits for you to adjust. with how closely he watches you, he knows you’re ready even before you wrap both arms around him and start to roll your hips.

he keeps one hand under your knee, the other sliding down your back to rest on your ass, and uses his grip on you to pull you into a slow, dirty grind.

“oh fuck,” you moan as the two of you find your rhythm together. zoro barely pulls out, keeping himself buried to the hilt inside you. you jerk back as he rolls his hips just enough to grind your clit up against his pelvis, his firm hold on you the only thing keeping you pinned in place.

“easy now. don’t run from me.”

time slows to a crawl, every moment yawning and stretching into the next, slow and sweet as honey. you tip forward, closing what little space there still was between you to pull him into a kiss that has all the intimacy of a hard-fought spar, of learning to move together, of missteps and growing pains, of getting the wind knocked out of him only to be pulled right back on his feet.

you’re close, all worked up and sensitive from his fingers, cunt fluttering and clenching down around him as you near your high. zoro chases your pleasure down, a starving mutt set loose upon a feast. he uses the little leverage he has to wrestle you on to your back and fuck into you with short, heavy thrusts.

“c'mon, baby, that's it,” he says, bent low to brush his lips against your ear, “let go.”

he reaches down between you, thumb pressing firm against your swollen clit and you’re gone, swept out to sea as your high crashes down over you in waves. zoro hardly feels his own orgasm rip through him, too caught up in watching you shake apart and be remade in his arms.

all is still as you pant and come back into yourself. your hand slips back into his and squeezes once. he’s not sure whether you’re trying to reassure yourself that he’s still here or that you are but he squeezes back all the same.

“can i eat you out now?”

and for the first time since he stepped into the room, a smile breaks over your face, bright as the dawn sun breaking through an overcast sky. you pull out of his hold, his soft cock sliding out, and settle on your back, legs falling open, “go for it.”

zoro eases himself down between your legs, throwing your thighs over his shoulders, never letting your hand slip free from his. he takes stock of your fresh fucked cunt, clit puffy and hole clenching around nothing, dripping with him. the scent of you, of the two of you, is thickest here, heavy in his nose, and zoro breathes you in with deep, greedy lungfuls, spent cock twitching against his thigh.

he dives in, catching what leaks out of you on his tongue before pulling back and dribbling the mess of cum and spit all over your pussy.

“nasty,” you say and zoro wants to kiss the curl that sits pretty on the corner of your lips. he settles for kissing your clit instead.

“you like it.”

“i like you.”

you wield your honesty with all the ease and carnage zoro wields his swords, sliding it between his ribs and piercing his heart clean through. the pain is lost as he’s distracted by the light pouring in as the moon rises higher into the night sky.

or maybe it’s your eyes that take the pain away because it’s only through them that he notices how bright the moon’s light shines tonight.

zoro devours you, gaze fixed to yours, one hand still holding yours while the other arm keeps your hips pinned to the bed. he takes his time cleaning you up, lapping at your folds until only the taste of you remains. it’s only then that he sucks your clit into his mouth, slipping two fingers inside you to give you something to clench down on.

you are a vision in your bliss, one he has no right to bear witness to. a lifetime of blood and blades and butchery shouldn't be rewarded with the softness of you in his hand and on his tongue. it's not right.

but as you take hold of his hair to keep his mouth pressed flush against your cunt, zoro finds he couldn't give less of a shit if it's right. all that matters is if he does right by you. there's an oath in every broad stroke of his tongue, a vow in every kiss to your clit, to take care of you in all the ways you need, in all the way he knows how.

today and for all days.

your orgasm is a gentle thing that washes over you and steals your breath for a moment, smaller than the first but leaves you just as ruined.

zoro takes his rightful place by your side once more, gathering you up in his arms and running his knuckles up and down your spine.

"thank you," you press a kiss to his cheek, just below where his scar ends. he accepts the kiss but not the gratitude that comes with it.

a hound needs no thanks for fulfilling its nature.

later, he will carry you off to the baths, let you pop open bottles for him to smell that make his nose itch but that make you beam, wash your back, and wait with the patience you’ve taught him for you to share what’s trapped inside your head.

he may not understand, may not have the comfort of words to give you, but he will listen. and he will stay.

but that is for later.

for now, zoro holds you to his chest and watches over you, moonlight and peace washing over you as you catch your breath.

dedicated to: mah wife @katslutski and loml @saotoru