#and have only drawn honeybee once

[ladybirdswritings]

SWEET THING, DBF — joel miller x reader.

DESCRIPTION: your life is a storm—an overbearing father, a shitty boyfriend, and the ache of growing up. everything becomes more tangled when you find yourself drawn to your father’s best friend, joel. NOTES - no apocalypse! leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | next part

A03 | masterlist

sweet thing…

Your father did the best he could. You knew that very well. Charlie was a man respected and adored by his humble community. A hard working father turned single parent when your mom fell ill and god— you were his little flower. His sweet thing. His angel.

Flowers are fragile, though. Gentle, moldable petals and stiff, snappable stems.

It is why he kept you so close to him, so prized like painted porcelain just ready to crack.

It is why you were here. Here at Jackson’s golden hued dance with more powdered, jam-filled pastries and red, roasted meats then you could count on one hand. Here. Instead of the alternative option which was the party your boyfriend decided to attend without you.

You got the invite, sure, yet even as a legal adult— what daddy says? Goes. So long as you remain under his roof, at least. It was infuriating, though. The freedom of all your dear friends, the spontaneity. If only that could be you…

Your eyes drifted to the moustached sponge of all fun and joy in the world, wrapped in a flannel with bourbon in hand. Your dad was seated next to Joel, as he often was. His presence was a newfound thing for these recent years and though Joel would never say it, you had an inkling that he wanted to stand by his friend’s side after your mother… well.

You didn’t know Joel well. No, not at all. His visits were always the occasional dinner or drop in for fishing or some awfully manly thing. You knew well that your mother adored him, though— so that was enough to make him alright in your book.

Neighbor Betsy told you once that Joel had lost his wife and daughter too, and that maybe he was trying to keep your father from going through what he went through alone.

You only laughed at that.

Joel Miller was gruff and cold. Could he have such a warm heart beneath his sherpa coat?

You dazed out, the fingers snapping in front of your eyes made you blink back into the golden hues and roasted sausages on pointy little sticks.

“You alright, honeybee?” Your father asked, laying a heavy arm upon your shoulders. Joel was slower in his approach, eyeing you up and down with confusion and something else in his eyes.

“Peachy.” You only muttered, taking a sip of your freshly squeezed lemonade. Jackson’s finest.

“Oh come on now angel… now you know I can’t have you runnin’ off with that boyfriend of yours. I always told you he was trouble. Member’ when he ditched you down by Church Road during mosquito season? Well you were ripe as a red tomater and who had to pick you up?”

You were riper, redder now. Your cheeks an embarrassed hue not even on the color wheel, not even identifiable. You bowed your head, huffing out your frustrations before simply muttering: “you did, dad.”

He nodded proud, squeezing your shoulder. “That’s right, I did… what?”

Your eyes drifted up to see your father’s oldest friend with an odd kind of expression on his face. Brows pinched and raised, wrinkles plaguing his forehead deeper now.

Joel only cleared his throat, shifting on his boots and taking a sip of his bourbon in preparation. Then? He spoke.

“You ain’t lettin’ her be.” He gruffly offered, eyes set and sure. Your father only stilled for a moment, wondering if it was even Joel’s place to have an opinion… maybe it was.

“Why’s that?” He asked Joel, and the rough looking man only took another swig.

“Mm. We were both young once. We both made mistakes, y’gotta let her make her own— can’t hide her from em’. Just ain’t how it works.”

Poppies blossomed like springtime had finally begun in your eyes. Finally— someone understood. You didn’t expect him to be so… wise?

Your father only huffed, taking a long glance your way as he mused.

“Even if I wanted to loosen the leash tonight, Joel, I can’t. Maria needs me here to keep an eye on crazy old Arthur.”

Joel’s brows relaxed at that, a purpled hand running along the zipper of his flannel coat. His eyes were a chocolate kind of brown, dark and quietly encasing his thoughts within them.

He hummed, gaze drifting back to you.

You wanted to shrink. Perhaps it was because you were on the spot, perhaps it was because the way he stared would make anyone feel small.

It seemed like centuries before he cleared his throat again.

“I’ll take her.”

What?

You didn’t understand it, not one bit. Why was he kind enough to offer you an out here? Kind enough to test your father’s words.

Discomfort radiated through your father’s coat, tension molding its way into his already stiff bones. A long sigh, a glance back and forth as he truly considered. His expression was far too plagued with worry, and you knew well that it was now or never.

You had to slam down the last nail in the oak wood coffin.

“Please, daddy? I’ll check in every half hour, I promise.”

Tension eased, slightly but— still. Your eyes were doe-like and sweet, and he gazed into them for a moment far too long before allowing his arm to drop.

“Every fifteen minutes and you’ve got a deal. Miller, you make sure my daughter gets in and out of that bastard’s house safely.”

Joel only nodded once, jaw tense and expression stoic. Your grin was wider than a field of flowers, and you immediately wrapped your father in a hug. Your thank yous seemed endless, and it made him laugh.

When you parted, Joel had keys grasped in his rough hands. You realized for a moment that you had no idea why he was doing this. What did he owe you? Maybe it was pity. You were half an orphan, after all.

With a cautious glance, your eyes met his own. He nodded once as if to urge you closer, and you stumbled his way. Before you knew it? You were out the door, trailing behind him like his shadow.

Of all the people who cared enough to convince your father to let you go to this party tonight? Joel Miller was the last person you expected it to be…

¿to be continued?

[foxy-eva]

Lipstick Stains

Summary: The shade of your new lipstick is too much for Spencer to handle

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) mild dom/sub undertones (Dom!Reader, Sub!Spencer), praise kink, grinding, oral (male receiving), slight overstimulation

Word count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Red lips had inspired poets to write about how alluring women were for centuries. With that in mind, you smiled to yourself as you applied lipstick in a deep burgundy red, imagining all the beautiful metaphors Spencer would come up with once he saw you like that. 

Little did you know that seeing you with colored lips would leave him speechless. 

With eyes wide and his mouth agape he stared at you when you stepped out of the bathroom. He was waiting for you to get ready to go out but by the way he licked his lips you got a hunch that you wouldn't leave your apartment anytime soon. 

"You look beautiful," Spencer complimented you once he found his voice again. 

"Thank you. I wanted to try something different tonight."

He stepped closer to you and lifted his hand to let his fingertips ghost over the seam of your lips. It was as if he was a honeybee drawn to the sweet nectar of a flower in full bloom.

"This color," he breathed. "It's so pretty."

"It's kissproof, you know," you giggled while swinging your arms around your boyfriend's neck. 

When he pushed his body against yours to capture your mouth in a tender kiss, you noticed another, more exciting reaction to your looks. A familiar hardness pressed into your hips as he kissed you. 

You leaned back to chuckle, "Naughty boy."

"I'm sorry. I can't help it," he apologized half sincerely.

There was no resistance from him when you placed your hands on his shoulders to walk him back to the couch. With a firm push against his body he sat down on the cushions, welcoming you as you sat on his lap to straddle him. Your lips were on his before he had a chance to take a breath, making him sigh into your mouth. 

You left his lips to leave featherlight kisses on his neck, noticing how his hips bucked up slightly at the sensation. When you started to rock against the bulge in his pants, he threw his head back while a groan fell from his lips. 

“Do you like that?” You purred as you kept moving your hips against his. 

The gold of his irises was almost completely swallowed by his pupils when he locked eyes with you. His hands grabbed your waist, his fingertips burying into your supple skin almost painfully. 

“Fuck yes!” 

The glimmer in his eyes was proof of how excited he was getting. 

You stopped your motions to trace a finger along his jaw, cooing, “If you behave, I will reward you.”

Without even knowing what you had in mind for him, he promised, “I’ll be good for you.”

There was no need to doubt him, so you leaned down until your lips brushed over his ear. "Don't come before I do and I'll show you how good my lips look wrapped around your cock."

Instead of answering you, only a whimper escaped his throat. His hands moved from your sides to the waistband of your pants but you stopped him before he could undo the buttons. 

"Not like this," you let him know. 

"Tell me how," he muttered. "Please."

Without a warning you began grinding against his length once more, moaning at the friction that motion created between your thighs. With more force than necessary, you grabbed a handful of hair on the back of his head to yank it back. 

Spencer's hands got ahold of your hips, moving with you to intensify the contact. As your mouth explored Spencer's neck, you were relentlessly rocking against him. When you looked at his face once more, his eyes were half-lidded and focussed on your lips. He sighed when you opened them to let the sounds of your excitement escape. 

Even though the sensation of you grinding along his length must have been tortuous for him, he was keen on keeping his promise. His fingertips pushed into the fabric covering your hips as if he was trying to burn right through it and you wondered if it was possible. Your panties were completely soaked at this point and you knew you wouldn't last much longer. Spencer, however, obviously had trouble to not let himself get lost in the pleasure as well. 

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d finish before you got a chance to take care of him. Seeing you fall apart in his lap brought him more pleasure than you thought possible and you had no intention to punish him for that. However, it would make rewarding him the way you had in mind a little more difficult, so you really hoped he wouldn’t break his promise. 

"You're doing so good," you praised him. "Can you hold on a little bit longer?"

Between heavy breaths he sighed, "I’m trying."

"Good boy."

You felt him twitching against your center at the sound of his favorite nickname, the feeling igniting a flame inside you that begged to be tamed. Your whole body felt like it was on fire as you chased your climax, well aware that Spencer felt just the same. When you ground over his erection particularly slowly and forcefully, he groaned and started to tremble. 

“Feels too good,” he muttered and you started to pity the poor boy. 

With a few more purposeful movements, you let yourself fall over the edge, your body shaking as relief washed over you. Spencer made sure to keep you in place with the firm grip of his hands, bucking his hips to grind against you until you told him to stop. 

After taking a second to catch your breath, you cooed, "You did amazing, my sweet boy. Time for your reward."

You got up from his lap to drop to your knees in front of him. As you started to undo the buttons of his pants, he gently grabbed your wrists. 

"You don't have to," he reminded you. 

Even though you clearly were the one in charge here, he still wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with what you were doing. The way he always wanted to take care of you, no matter the circumstances, made your heart skip a beat. 

"I know, Spencer. I want to, though," you reassured him. “You deserve it.”

He relaxed at your words, letting go of your hands and moving with you as you freed his hardness from its confines. He felt hot against your fingertips as you brushed over his velvety skin, making Spencer shudder when your thumb moved over his leaking tip. 

Leaning down, you started kissing along his shaft until you were sure that your lips had brushed over every inch of him. It was then that you noticed that your lipstick wasn't as kissproof as you thought, the sight of the markings you left on his erection creating a tingling sensation in your stomach. 

"So pretty," you snickered. 

Spencer groaned at the sight of it, watching each and every move intently. You pressed your lips against his tip before opening them to let him slide into your mouth slowly. Locking eyes with him, you noticed that the shade of his cheeks wasn't unlike the one of your lips.

When he hit the back of your throat, you swallowed around him, eliciting a deep moan from your boyfriend. With practiced motions you began to move up and down, your hand covering what you couldn't fit into your mouth. 

The room filled with the sinful sounds of your mouth moving against his length and the moans falling from his lips. You made sure to maintain eye-contact with him but he couldn’t decide whether to get lost in the warmth of your irises or the color of your lips. Spencer needed something to hold on to, so you offered him your free hand, intertwining your fingers with his. 

Gladly he accepted your offering to keep himself grounded when he started to feel like he would disperse. With all the built-up tension from you grinding against him moments before, it was no surprise that it wouldn't take long for Spencer to reach his breaking point. He trembled under your touch as he got lost in the warmth surrounding him. It became impossible for him to keep his eyes on you, so he closed them instead. 

He throbbed against your tongue as he spilled his essence into your throat. You swallowed all he had to offer and kept going with your movements until he started getting soft and his whines almost sounded like sobs. Once you let him go, Spencer readjusted his clothes and it made you smile to know that your lipstick stains were now hidden behind fabric with only the two of you aware they were there. 

His hands were careful when they wiped off the saliva from your chin as you found your place on the couch beside him. He placed a sweet kiss on your lips as if to make up for the loss of warmth you felt against them mere seconds before. 

"Are you okay?" You wanted to make you sure once he leaned back to look at you. 

His eyes were filled with wonder and adoration when he sincerely answered, "Yes. I really enjoyed that."

"Me, too."

After checking his watch, he said, "If we leave now, we might still get our table at the restaurant."

"I have to freshen up but I'll be done in a moment," you chirped as you got up from the couch. 

"I think you might need to reapply your lipstick," Spencer chuckled.

You winked at him and snickered, "We'll never make it to dinner if I do."

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[sashaisready]

I'm Still Here - Chapter Four

Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader

In late 60s Meade, you’re married to Sheriff Bodecker, pregnant with your first child. On paper you’re the perfect couple – the respectable Sheriff and his homemaker wife. This should be one of the happiest times of your life…so why are the two of you living like ghosts? And is it too late to bridge that gap? Especially when your husband is playing a dangerous game.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Violence, guns, mentions of crime - robberies etc, mentions of traumatic childhood, injury. This is the penultimate chapter, next part is the last!

Wordcount: 3.1k

Back in the past…

“Looks like we have ourselves an old-fashioned standoff here, Honeybee”. He told you stoically as he kept his eyes on you. If he was at all anxious, he didn’t show it.

“Sure seems that way” you smiled back. 

The two of you remained still, pistols drawn and cautiously trained on each other. Both waiting to see what the other was going to do.

“Maybe you should put that down and come with me, Honey” Lee said softly.

His voice was smooth like molasses. Not like the other cops you knew. And you’d known many. You were intrigued by him, most of the rookies you got your hands on either trembled like schoolboys or went in too aggressively as if trying to overcompensate. Lee…he just seemed…interested? Amused?

Maybe you were interested, too.

You shook your head. “Sorry Lee, you know I can’t do that” you sighed. 

“I know Honey…but the boys are outside with your friends right now, roundin’ them up…and it’ll be better for you to come quiet. Don’t you think?”

You grinned. “I never come quiet, Deputy Bodecker”.

He just snickered at your double entendre. “You’re a piece of work, aren’t ya?”

You shrugged at him teasingly. 

“I meant it” he continued. “If you come willingly, it’ll look better for you. The judge might go easy on ya. You could tell him you were coerced…vulnerable…just a girl who got caught up in the wrong crowd and didn’t know what she was doin’. It happens all the time”.

A hollow laugh escaped you. “Nice try, Lee. But do you really think the judge and jury are gonna buy that the girl firing at cop cars during high-speed chases is vulnerable and clueless?”

“Mm. Worth a shot” he snickered again and narrowed his eyes.

“They’ll be okay, my gang. They always are. They’re slippery”.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that…but they only need to slip up once. Hubris is dangerous, Honey.”

“Don’t worry about me, Lee”.

“Well, I am worried. You strike me as the kind of girl who didn’t have no one worryin’ ‘bout her for a long time” he told you.

Your breath hitched. You knew this was a common cop tactic, them trying to empathise with you and lure you in with empty platitudes about how well they ‘know’ you…but his insight caught you off guard for a second just the same. You shook it off.

“I have Billy. And the gang. I do just fine” you replied curtly.

Lee nodded, studying you carefully. He kept the gun trained on you as his eyes bore into yours. “Mmm…if you say so, Honey. But I’ve met a lot of Billys in my time, and we both know he wouldn’t hesitate to sell you down the river if it meant saving his own ass. So maybe you should get the jump on him”.

That stung. You loved Billy, and he loved you too. This cop didn’t know you. Either of you. He knew nothing about you or what Billy would do for you. What you’d do for each other! He was just another pig.

Your face became an ugly scowl.

Lee watched, realising he’d pushed you too far. He felt a twinge of regret, not just at losing the opportunity to take a member of the infamous Cypress gang into the station, but strangely, he also didn’t like that he’d upset you.

“I told you, Bodecker, I do just fine” you told him angrily.

Before he had a chance to respond you fired the pistol, sending a warning shot into the wooden doorframe just above his head. He flinched and recoiled at the sound, and you took that moment of confusion to speed out of the front door.

Lee regained his composure and yelled after you, breaking into a run and pursuing you. He sprinted with his gun in hand just in time to see that damned VW bus belt it out of the property, with you sliding agilely inside through one of the windows.

The Cypress gang were loose once again.

Lee stood helplessly as Finlay and the squad approached behind him, some muttering obscenities and radio-ing back to the station. A couple of cruisers catapulted out of the driveway to follow the bus, but they all knew they were licked. Finlay clamped a paternal hand onto Lee’s back, assuring him that he’d get them next time.

Lee just nodded, staring thoughtfully out to the road.

That was the first time you met.

*

You met lots of times after that day.

Sometimes during busts. Sometimes on the road. Once even during a bank robbery. You and the gang always manage to evade them in the end, but there had been some close calls.

You and Lee always exchanged little looks or nods when you found yourself together again. Small waves. Eventually pleasantries. One time Lee surprised you in a barn you were laying low in after a particularly tiresome chase. He pinned you down against the dirt and the hay and you gasped a little at the feeling of his weight on you as he held you down and told you to be a good girl. You did your best to ignore the surge of electricity it sent through you. He even got one of the cuffs on you before you headbutted him and managed to speed away. Later, Cosmo had to cut them off using a saw and a file he’d stolen from a carpenter. Not your finest hour.

It was always nice to see him. You would feel a weird tingle in your stomach when he appeared. You’d find yourself searching the faces of cops during any showdowns and you’d feel a strange relief when you found him. You knew these feelings couldn’t mean anything good. You knew you had to move beyond it. But you couldn’t help yourself. As time rolled on you saw Lee grow from a rookie to eventually becoming Finlay’s right-hand man. He held himself more confidently, moving with more authority than before. His middle had softened, and his cheeks filled out as he rose through the ranks, but that was okay. He was still handsome, and there was something about his sturdiness that you liked.

You once had a blazing argument with Billy about him putting his own needs above the gang’s…it seemed to be happening more and more…and you’d stormed off to the gas station across from the sleazy motel you were staying in, eyes brimming with tears and jaw clenching in anger. You thought about how tiring this way of life was, how weary you were becoming.

You’d grown up with nothing, drifting between orphanages and group homes without so much as a doll of your own. You’d grown hard and distrustful, careful not to let anyway get too close lest they leave you again. You became tough, taking no shit from the other kids and establishing yourself as a figure not to be messed with. You stole from grocery stores to subsidise the measly food portions you were given, and that graduated to stealing more – a comb from the pharmacy, a make-up compact, a radio from the electronics store…and, eventually, cars. You found it all quite easy. You just had to push down any guilt you felt and remind yourself that you were the only person you could rely on.

You’d met Billy after you tried to pick his pocket on the street. Rather than turn you in, he pointed out where you’d gone wrong. You had thought he was beautiful with his blonde hair and intense eyes. He’d taken you under his wing and you followed him gladly. Of course you fell in love with him, how could you not? It was as if someone was seeing you for the first time, someone who saw the ugliness within you but didn’t flinch – if anything he welcomed it. He taught you everything he knew and introduced you to the others, and thus the gang was born. You had a warm bed every night, even if you moved around a lot, plus your belly was always full and you always had money in your pocket. Never before had these things been your reality. Yes, some of the stuff you got up to made you queasy, you remember the first time you’d shot a man and the sickening thwump of the bullet as it pierced his skin, but he was coming straight for you and it was you or him. And that’s what you told yourself. It was them or you. And you had to survive.

Billy had saved you and it was your job to save him too. So you looked out for him, had his back. You learnt to shoot and you got good at it, too. As long as you had each other you would be okay.

But after that argument, as you marched into the gas station with your heart pounding, you wondered if you were cut out for this life. Sometimes you questioned if you should just turn yourself in and give it all up. Hope for a sympathetic judge like Lee said. Jail would be tough but at least you wouldn’t have to keep running.

But it was too late. You’d gone too far now.

As you paid for a soda you caught a glimpse of yourself on the Wanted poster displayed behind the register. Billy’s was next to yours, then the others along from his. Fortunately, your hair looked a little different now and the picture quality wasn’t great. Still, you could never be too careful. You pulled your hat down and disappeared back out into the night. A ghost, like always.

*

Lee was dealing with his own confusing feelings. You were a felon, the opposite of everything his job stood for. It was his job to catch people like you and put them away, to protect the world from your kind. So why couldn’t he stop thinking about you? He so enjoyed the cat and mouse game with you, the excitement of catching you off guard and seeing the mischief across your face. As much as he wanted to capture you, he knew he would be slightly disappointed when that day came because it would be over. Strangely, he knew he’d miss you. Plus, the chase had ignited something in him, something primal and predatory. That day in the barn when he caught you, trapping you between his thighs as he watched the ‘o’ of surprise on your face as you realised, he’d bested you. He watched the glimmer of excitement in your eyes when he told you to be good. He felt the warmth of your body beneath him and imagined what it would be like to feel you properly. His rational mind screamed at him to stay away but he couldn’t help himself. Like a moth to a flame, you brought him back every time.

Of course, everything must end.

*

The shoot-out at Manville’s Farm had been bad. Really bad.

The cops had cornered you there after a robbery went wrong, it wasn’t a good spot to hide out, but it was the only option. Cosmo had been killed in the chaos and Violet had been captured. There was nothing you could’ve done to help them.

You and Billy were cornered in a woodshed, and you were bleeding from a bullet wound in your leg which you’d poorly dressed with a handkerchief. Billy was clutching onto the suitcase of cash he’d salvaged and was staring at it as if it held the answer to all your prayers. Things had been tough between you for a while now. You knew he was pulling away from you.

“Billy…” you uttered meekly.

“Shut UP, Honeybee” he barked. “I’m trying to think…”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as you both heard the heavy steps outside drawing closer. You exchanged a look, and you knew this was it. At least you’d go down together.

You turned to reach for his hand but to your horror he leapt to his feet and began to climb to the little window at the back of the shed.

“Billy!” you squeaked, unable to grasp the betrayal as he shimmied himself through the gap.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry…Really, I am…” he shot you a glance of regret and then he was gone.

You gawped at the window in horror, your heart in so much pain you thought it would burst. A few moments later you heard a wail of pain somewhere in the distance followed by a series of curses, but you didn’t have time to really react before the door swung open. You already knew who it would be.

“Hi Lee” you said glumly.

He stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips, eyeing you carefully. At the very least, you were glad it was him who would be taking you away. He looked handsome, as always. His hair was shorter. His middle a little wider. But he was still Lee.

“That must smart” he said quietly as he looked to the wound on your leg. “Guess that’s why you ain’t runnin’ no more”.

You nodded.

“But I’m guessing Lover Boy abandoning you hurt even more”.

Your eyes filled with tears, and you nodded again.

He sighed, dropping to his knees and tenderly moving some hair from your face. He moved to reveal Billy’s suitcase of cash behind him, giving it a tap.

“If it helps…we got him”.

You scoffed. He betrayed you, and for what? To suffer the same fate anyway? What a waste. All of it had been a waste.

“He got caught in a bear trap Old Man Manville had put out to catch the stray dogs who go after his livestock. He’ll live, just in a lot of pain. The boys are with him now waitin’ on a medic. They’re all so excited to have caught Billy the Kid that the heat’s off you for now, Honey”.

“Idiot” you scoffed. Although the fact he suffered was a small comfort to you.

“So…it’s finally time huh?” he said kindly, his voice softening.

“I guess so” you said tearfully. “I’m sorry, Lee”.

“It’s okay, Honey” he cooed. “You’re okay”.

“I just…I don’t want to do it anymore. You know? I’m so tired…”

He nodded. “Well…you don’t have to, not anymore”.

“Can I tell you something, Lee?” you whispered.

“Anything, Honeybee”.

“It’s silly but…I sometimes dream about having a normal life. You know? Just being somebody’s wife…somebody’s mother. Keeping a home. Living simple. Is that dumb?”

He shook his head. “Not at all, Honey. I think that’s what most of us want”.

You both sat in the silence for a little while before he sighed.

“You know…I been offered a job over in Knockemstiff, Meade. Few hundred miles from here. They want me to be their Sheriff” he told you.

You furrowed your brow, unsure what this had to do with you. “Uh…okay”.

He took your hand, gingerly.

“Honeybee…come with me”.

You scoffed in disbelief. “What??”

“You heard me. Come with me. Marry me. Start that normal life you’ve always wanted…”

You laughed out loud. This had to be some weird joke. But you looked into his deep blue eyes, and he wasn’t laughing. He stood once more, his hands on his belt buckle as he watched you with utter sincerity.

“I can take care of things here” he said gravely. “You can start over. Both of us can. Nobody will ever know. We’ll be far enough away from anyone who might recognise you”.

You blinked at him. “You’re…serious?”

“I’ll take care of you, Honey. I know we don’t know each other well, yet, but we can. I think…I know…we can be happy”.

“I don’t…what? We…We can’t”.

“You know we can. You feel our connection. I feel it too”.

He must be insane. But clearly you were just as insane as him because you found yourself actually considering it.

“If I did…if we did this…they’d find me…”

“They wouldn’t. I’d make sure of it.”

You shook your head in disbelief.

“Even if we could…I’ve done bad shit, Lee. Real bad. Don’t you want a nice little wife who knows how to make a good casserole? Not some crazy bitch who knows how to hot wire a car”.

He laughed. “No. I want the crazy bitch”.

You scoffed again. “And even if I agree…how do you know I won’t just run out on you?”

“You won’t” he said confidently.

“I…I’m not a good person, Lee”.

And then he leaned over and kissed you. And you kissed him back. And the world was still for a moment. Your leg didn’t hurt and your heart wasn’t broken and you felt alive and right. He held your face as his tongue found yours and his big hands clung to your waist and everything sang, and everything lit up and something within you awoke in a way it never had with Billy. You found yourself clinging to Lee and never wanting to let go. There was something safe, just something right about it all.

Maybe it was because you were crazy. Maybe it was because it was the only option other than jail. Maybe because your heart ached from Billy’s betrayal. Maybe it was because you and Lee kept finding your way back to each other. And maybe it would just be nice for someone else to take care of you for once.

As you pulled away, you held his face in your hands and told him your real name.

And you said yes.

*

And so the story goes that the notorious Honeybee of the Cypress gang died that day. She hid in a woodshed on the Manville property which unfortunately exploded when she lit a match for a cigarette without spotting the leaking gas can just a few feet away. They didn’t find much of her, just her jacket and her shoes and not much else. A tragic end to the troubled runaway, who got caught up in the wrong crowd after her difficult childhood. So much promise, snuffed out in an instant. She would later become a cautionary tale told to wayward girls threatening to go off the rails – don’t end up like the poor, tragic Honeybee!

Sheriff Lee Bodecker moved to Meade shortly after his success with the Cypress bust and subsequent investigation of Honeybee’s death. He married a pretty, young woman he met at a diner, and the two became pillars of the community. A few years later they were reportedly expecting their first child, and happier than ever.

*

Present Day…

You heard the men coming up the stairs and you knew it was time.

Here’s hoping you remembered some of your old tricks…

*

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I had great fun with it. As always I'm grateful for any reblogs or comments ❤️

[lookwhatyoudidithasanxiety]

Solar Character Ref

He/him, pan; 5'7; regresses as old as 7 and as young as 3 (tends to stick to the younger age range now), goes nonverbal when especially upset

All flat teeth, no fangs.

Has a crack in his faceplate over his left eye from where his Moon hit him. His left eye is also damaged from his Moon forcibly removing it once, he had to put it back in himself.

Right eye is white with black pupil, left eye has black sclera and a gold pupil. He has difficulty seeing clearly through his damaged eye, so he sometimes has to turn his head to see things better.

Body is covered in various dings and dents. Some from the kids, some from Nexus...

No paws or claws.

Practices witchcraft, identifies as pagan. Secret weeb/k-pop stan.

Poppy called him bumble, bumblebee, and honeybee. Sun calls him bug when he's regressed.

The body he was put into is a basic solar model. It's orange, but everything about it was initially simple and basic. He gave himself upgrades that allow him to run off of a single charge for days at a time.

Has arthritis in his hands. Not only due to past physical trauma, but also from working nonstop on various projects. He wears his gloves to not only increase his grip strength and protect his hands, but to also mitigate some of the sensory overload he experiences.

Head of maintenance and had to run the daycare all by himself while in his own dimension.

I haven't explicitly said if he has autism (I left that up to interpretation since I don't want to misrepresent it), but he does have sensory processing disorder. He can't stand loud noises, bright lights, or just general over-stimulation (Yeah. Running the daycare was not great...)

"Ya weren't supposed to see that..." "He's...he's gone? Don't we have a backup? Or maybe we can restore his systems!" "No, come on. You don't have time to be sick right now. You're just tired. You're just tired." "Watch over these toys fer Papa, they're really special to 'im. An' I need someone big an' strong ta watch 'em and keep 'em safe. Can ya do that?"

Relationships with:

Sun: Solar still has days where he looks at Sun and sees his own Sun. In fact, when he crashes into regression (because this guy almost never willingly does), he still sees Sun as his Poppy. Not being able to see well out of one eye doesn't help things. But him and Sun get along well! He and Solar have mandated self-care days together, Harvest sometimes joins, and they all have tea together and unwind.

Moon: He and Moon get along really well. They spend a lot of time together engineering and working on tech. But every once in a while, Solar has to remind himself of where he is and who he's with. This isn't his Moon. He knows it.... When he regresses, he sometimes can't be anywhere near Moon. Other times, he wants 'Mama' (and who is Moon to deny him?).

Harvest: Like Harvest and Moon, Solar and Moon spend time together just sitting and watching the chaos. Harvest is trying to teach him how to knit, and he's slowly starting to pick it up.

Bloody: You would think that Solar wouldn't get along well with Bloody because of how high energy he is. On the contrary, Solar is drawn to it and you can find him tossing balls of yarn for him (much to Sun's chagrin, those are his 100% WOOL SKEINS-). Bloody is on the opposite end of the sensory spectrum; where Solar tends to be overstimulated, Bloody seeks out stimulation. But that means that Bloody has plenty of stim toys and things he can share with Solar. Bloody also likes to curl up on Solar's lap for head scratches.

Lunar: Solar tends to either be getting Lunar out of trouble or encouraging the chaos. Solar saw him when they first met and immediately adopted him. Yeah, no, he'll gladly take over watching Lunar every time he's regressed from now on, thanks. Solar is like an older brother to Lunar, and they regularly play Minecraft together.

Kill Code: Solar isn't really sure what to think of Kill Code. He's honestly still confused how he exists, but he doesn't question it too much. As long as he doesn't hurt his family friends, he'll just keep an eye on him...

Past Relationships:

Poppy: Poppy was immediately accepting of him when he first came to be. They worked out a system that allowed both of them to have control of the body at different times. They were also Solar's primary caregiver, especially when Nexus and Poppy had their disagreement. They did their very best to keep Solar from seeing Nexus's true colors and their frequent arguments, but they weren't able to. Poppy was the one to teach Solar witchcraft and herbalism, and Solar still strives to make them proud of him...

Nexus: Solar learned a lot of what he knows about mechanics and engineering from his Moon. He didn't realize his true colors for a long time because Poppy kept it hidden from him so well. Until that point, Midnight was his other caregiver and Solar even called him Mama.

Nexus is the one that caused the majority of Solar's damage. He sometimes didn't even state a reason for when he'd 'punish' him, he'd just grab him and hurt him. Solar prefers to do his own repairs, he doesn't trust anyone else to really do them.

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

Paint

Tubbo likes to paint. He’s always loved it, as far back as he can remember; when he was very small, barely a toddler, he’d stuff his hands into buckets of paint and smear them across the walls of his house, squealing with delight. His mother would only watch, smiling with a hand covering her mouth. Never trying to stop him. He wonders why she didn’t. He’s glad she didn’t.

As he got older, he also grew more refined—but only slightly so. He no longer buried his arms into paint buckets, and instead used the tips of his fingers to strike lines across a canvas. He’d use all sorts of colors; ones that blended together and ones that clashed, ones that calmed and ones that excited. He’d use anything and everything. He’d even tried mud, once.

And as he grew even older, his love of painting shifted to a love of other forms of art, mainly sketching. He got into the habit of always carrying around a notebook, just in case he got inspired—or perhaps very bored.

Tubbo never really considered himself a great artist, but he liked to believe that he was at least halfway decent. At the very least.

So it was that many years after Tubbo’s first adventures in painting—and many nations later as well—Tubbo found himself sitting in the living room of his house, hunched over on the couch as he uses a pencil to draw a picture in his sketchbook. In all honesty, he’s not quite sure what he’s drawing. It was originally going to be a simple honeybee, but he’d gotten carried away, adding flowers and grasses and a sky until the single honeybee became a honeybee in the midst of a sprawling field.

Tubbo likes it. It’s a bit messy, but he likes it. He hasn’t drawn anything this detailed in a while.

“What are you doing?” Ranboo, who’d been quiet up to this point, sets his book aside, leaning forwards in his chair. Tubbo glances at him in surprise, staring a moment before returning to his own book.

“Sketching.”

There’s quiet. “Sketching?”

“Yeah. Just doodling.”

More quiet. “Doodling? What’s…”

Tubbo furrows his brow. “You sound confused. What are you confused about?”

“Oh, I don’t know… I guess, like… what’s, um… what’s sketching? And doodling? I’ve never really, like, heard those words before.”

“Waitwaitwait, Ranboo.” Tubbo looks up from his book, setting his pencil into the center of it. “You don’t- have you seriously never heard of sketching? Seriously?”

Ranboo’s ears twitch as he softly clears his throat. “I don’t… think so?”

~~~

BEEDUO!!!!

Ranboo’s already clueless on Many Things including pronouns alsgoavsiagai he would also be confused over art. I think.

I’d never really thought of Tubbo as an artist before writing this, so… not too sure where that came from XD

For this ask game :)

[bradshawsbaby]

Hi! For the ship ask game, would it be too much to ask for "How do they flirt? Who’s the worse flirt?" for the Bradshaws, Hannix, Rhett x Honeybee AND Bob x Peach? If so, choose whoever you'd like to talk about! I just love them all so much, you know? ❤️

Not too much! I’m so glad to know that you love all of them 🥰

Bradley & Mrs. Bradshaw

Bradley is definitely the more overt flirt. From the moment he first laid eyes on the future Mrs. Bradshaw, he knew she was the one for him and he was constantly trying to land in her orbit so that he could talk to her. Mrs. B, on the other hand, is much shyer and has never considered herself a very good flirt. She often jokes that she was only able to start flirting with Bradley after they’d been dating for months. Bradley is big on flirty texts and comments, while Mrs. Bradshaw flirts more with her body language—certain looks or gestures, brushing up against him or touching him in some way.

Hangman & Phoenix

I would say Hangman considers himself to be more of the flirt 😂 And he is a notorious one, at that. He’s very into the innuendos and suggestive comments because he loves trying to get Phoenix flustered, which is a nearly impossible feat. Phoenix’s flirting style looks more like roasting—she shows her love for Jake by making fun of him endlessly. So I suppose, in the traditional sense of the word, Phoenix would be the worse flirt 🤭

Rhett & Honeybee

Growing up, Honeybee was a bit more of a flirt. She was the one putting herself out there, whereas as Rhett was the quieter of the two. He would never have admitted it at the time, but it drove him crazy to watch her flirt with boys in their classes all throughout high school, just as it drove her crazy to watch all the girls that were drawn to Rhett like moths to a flame. There were moments in their younger years where things got a little flirty, but then they’d both panic and clam up, too afraid to cross that line. But once they get together, Rhett feels more confident to be more obvious in his affection. He’s very much into physical touch and loves whispering things in Honeybee’s ear to make her blush. Honeybee’s totally open to PDA, and there’s nothing that delights her more than leaving her cowboy at a loss for words.

Bob & Peach

Bob and Peach are both terrible flirts 🤣 It’s literally not in their vocabulary. They’re both so shy and terrified of overstepping. But that’s why they’re perfect for each other! And they’re getting better at it with each letter they write each other ��

Ship Ask Game

[fernsandsunflowers]

Something happened before dawn, it was probably nothing, a trick of the light...

I woke up in a different place... It was still dark, my alarm wouldn't ring for another 2 hours, and I had been dreaming about not having an outfit for my cousin's engagement party - how could I have forgotten to get one? Something woke me up, a silent alarm from my body to my dreaming brain - 'something's changed' it said, 'wake up'.

They say our instincts are still there, it's just buried often under too many thoughts, but they are still there. They tell you when someone's watching, they make your hairs stand on end when there's sudden silence, a change in air pressure. Spidey senses. My body didn't give me specifics when it woke me up, just told me there's been a change in the environment. It didn't signal danger, not exactly, it was more like a honeybee anticipating rain. It raised enough of an alarm to make me open my eyes immediately. People who are often woken up in the middle of the night for no reason, would know you never open your eyes when you are suddenly woken up - once they are open you can pretty much just give up sleep for the rest of the night. But something was wrong, my skin was tingling, so I opened my eyes.

There was too much moonlight coming in through the windows, more than there should be with only one curtain drawn open on the opposite end of my bed. On one side of my room is a large window. It takes up most of the space and looks out into a tall hedge. My single bed is set parallel to the windows and takes up just over half their length. The other half is occupied by a cabinet with my plants sitting on top. When I sleep, I draw the black out curtains only half way so that the little light that shines through the hedge doesn't disturb my sleep but my plants are able to enjoy the morning sun even if I am sleeping in that day. I know what my room looks like in the dark, with the curtain drawn only half way. It's dark, with just small patches of dappled moonlight peaking through the hedge.

There was too much light and the room felt cavernous. Like I was in a space that was much larger than the one I went to sleep in. It was the light that really bothered me. Even with the curtains fully open, I don't get this much light in my room at night. I immediately sat up and tried not to freak out when I notice that my curtain was fully open. I don't sleep with my curtain fully open.

My room is on the ground floor, anyone can see into my room through those windows, anyone can see me sleeping. No, no, no I never ever leave my curtain open along my bedside, I know exactly to what length it needs to be drawn so that anyone looking through the open side can only see the end of my bed and never my sleeping body. But the curtain was open, I could see the entire hedge and wait, wait but why are these windows so large? I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again.

Still the same thing. The curtains are open, and the windows are tall, so so tall. The whole room is twice as tall and as large as it should have been and the windows tower all the way to the ceiling. And they are curved, you could fit a gorgeous and extremely spacious reading nook in that curve. I am sitting in the middle of my narrow, single bed, and I am looking directly to my left, out through an open window that should have been covered with a black out curtain. And the hedge outside wasn't a hedge anymore.

There was a quality to the view outside that was the same as the room... It was massive. There was more space between the window and the hedge, and the greenery looked more expansive. It wasn't a narrow hedge before a fence that separated the house from the road across, it was a forest. There were trunks of tall trees silhouetted in the moonlight.

I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again. Nothing's changed. Giant windows, open curtain, forest outside... stay calm. I must be still asleep, trick of the light doesn't last this long. Maybe this is a weird episode of sleep paralysis.

Not sleep paralysis, I get sleep paralysis often, and I have never been able to move in any episode. I pinch myself, again, and then again. I run my hands over my body. I turn my head around, in every angle... I rub my eyes. But no matter what I did, the world around me looked the same. I was in an expansive room so big that I could not see my desk, I could not see my coat rack... there should not have been that much space between my plant cabinet and the windows. It was so bright in here.

And the thing is, the thing that really got my heart in my throat was that when I reached out to the windows, I couldn't seem to touch them. Which makes sense, in this new space. The windows were too far away from my bed for me to reach without getting up and walking to them. But it doesn't make sense for my room. Those windows should be less than an arms length away. I don't know...maybe I was too scared to reach as far as I needed to, I admit I was frozen where I sat on my bed. I was too scared to reach further than the edges of my bed. I did touch the curtains though. When I reached back, I could feel the ends of the curtain hanging at the head of my bed. They were where they would usually hang during the day, when I would have them fully open. Right then though, those ends should have been at the far end of my bed, closer to my feet, not at my head.

My phone was next to my pillow, I looked at the time, it was exactly 5 am. I switched on the flashlight. The world reverted back. The curtain was drawn along my bed, there were my plants, my desk, my coat rack. Everything where it should be. I turned the flashlight off. The curtain remained drawn, there were dim flecks of moonlight shining on my plants.

The room was dark.

Just a trick of the light.

[sephiramy]

I am doing all D&D characters for my Patreon pinups this year, which means I get to draw fresh headshots and also some minor redesigns/updates I have been meaning to do, and I am really stoked about it!!

[tteokdoroki]

saccahrine sundays | k.bakugou

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 5.3K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: katsuki can never find enough time to get some sleep. between being a full time pro hero, a father and a husband— hours of rest are hard to come by. unless it’s one of those sweet, sweet saccharine sundays.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to late twenties ), somnophilia, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), fingering ( female recieving ), tummy bulges, mating press, pregnancy!kink, daddy!kink, breeding!kink, light!exhibitionism, cumplay + needy bakugou has a praise!kink... <3

♡ author’s note(s): brrr hey guys! it feels like forever since i last posted a full fic, january was bleh so im happy to get this out !! special thanks to @greenchild for feeding me this idea and thank to all of you for your love, support and 2.8K. i love you all, enjoy <3

♡ masterlist | requests

katsuki bakugou couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep. between being a pro hero and family life, the full eight to nine hours of pure rest wasn’t easy to come by— now he wasn’t complaining, he was far too grateful for the life he lead to whinge and whine about the finer details. bakugou was right on track to becoming the number two, he had a beautiful wife who loved him and supported him no matter how reckless he might have been and two little brats that he adored more than anything. he was miles ahead of his high school classmates, never letting up or resting so like he said, there was no room to complain.

but even as the faintest wisps of light slip through drawn curtains and a vermillion gaze settled on the old all might digital alarm clock ( reading 9:01 AM ), katsuki bakugou can’t help but feel grateful for the sleep he just had. no interruptions from wailing toddlers or infants who need changing, no late night call ins for patrols— none of that, just an arm around his wife’s waist and the soft sound of her breathing to coax him out of his sleepy state.

bakugou remembers now, a distant yet far from faint memory of where he and his wife spent two days of their honeymoon under slumber’s spell, having ravished each other the very night they arrived in paris for their honeymoon ( all mina’s idea, she had told katsuki it was the perfect destination for newly weds in love— and whilst the several districts his alien friend recommended did appease you, the blonde had promised to take you on a more luxurious getaway when he was hire up in the hero rankings ). of course that very honeymoon lead you to fall pregnant with your first little miracle— taiga bakugou, the very spitting image of her father except or the slight tilt to her nose and the sparkle in her eye that only her mother possessed.

raising her had proven to be both an enjoyable and exhausting experience for katsuki, with a matching explosive personality to rival even her daddy’s— there were many restless nights the pro hero spent butting heads with his daughter while his sweet spouse was away on missions and getting used to the field again. even during the pregnancy, full nights of rest were little to none— the cravings taiga gave you were almost unbearable for the blonde, not to mention the 2AM labour his little girl put you through...and yet he would repeat the last four years of lack of sleep all over again if it meant reliving every single moment with you. raising tatsumo was much better; however.

so as the weight of well deserved slumber lifts from katsuki’s shoulder’s he’s forced to deal with the memories of your sweet cries from the night (or rather, nights) he made you his wife. he stirs under cotton sheets, a familiar hardness pressing against his inner thigh as he recalls the way you tightened around him— “honey baby,” the desperate whisper tastes foreign, bitter across his tastebuds as he licks his lips. katsuki was usually much more composed when it came to sex, he could hold out for hours while you pleaded and begged of him to give you more. but this morning was different, very much so.

skilfully, the ash blonde slips a hand between your sheets, finger tips calloused with years of training and battle, dancing up your bare thighs from where you wear only his shirt and a pair of panties. the fingers trail up to your underwear, pressing them against your cunt as bakugou watches your face for any reaction— you twitch once before falling back into a deep slumber, letting your husband know that he can continue. he peels like orange silk away from your core and down your legs, half resisting the urge to sniff your undergarment like the dirty man he is but he decides that he can longer wait, already turned on by the feeling of your bare pussy against his hand.

the pro knows exactly how to turn you on, dragging is nails down your thighs just an inch from your wetness and his mind fogs with lust at the thought of the sounds you’d make for him if you were awake...not yet, he says to himself. his next move is to fuck your mouth, two of his digits sliding past parted lips from where you snore— gathering the drool that pools on the surface of your tongue. back and forth; move bakugou’s fingers until he’s satisfied with how wet you’ve made them with your spit. returning those very same fingers to your cunt, he parts your folds— already slightly sticky and hot with the nectar he’s used to savouring. if this were any other time, bakugou would be eating you out like a man starved of his last three meals but the rising sun tells him that his moments to fuck you are very few.

so now, he slides those lubed up fingers right into your tight little hole, shuddering under the sheets at how you automatically clamp around him— even while you sleep. katsuki’s vermillion eyes seek out your face in the warm light of the dusk, watching as your expression contorts into that familiar look of pleasure— lips blossoming into a cherry pout, brows furrowed as if you’re focusing on the way your husband makes you feel.

“fuck, honey baby, so good ‘n pliant for me even when yur fuckin’ sleepin’,” katsuki slurs against saliva that slips along his tongue, he’s hungry to fuck you, make you moan and scissors his fingers deep inside your obedient cunt in away that makes your slumbering body jump. pressing a thumb to your neglected clit, bakugou twists his fingers in search for your g-spot, pumping them into you with vigour. “gonna make you cum angel, baby, please cum while you’re like this s’you can take my cock.”

if there’s one thing pro hero dynamite knows, it’s that your body is a slave to him, no matter what state it’s in. your thighs part instinctively; giving your husband room to curl his fingers and press down hard on your pleasure spot— gummy walls sucking him in deeper. he makes you cum while you sleep, juices staining  your supple skin, honeyed from the warm light outside.

“atta girl, cummin’ for your husband like that even when you’re sleeping— so fuckin’ naughty...” katsuki grunts, locks of sun kissed hair beginning to plaster itself against his forehead. his body shakes with the desire to be inside of you, his internal temperature rising with every second that he’s not sheathed within your walls. pulling his fingers away from your twitching mound, bakugou slides them, cum soaked and all, into his mouth to taste your very sweetness. “would eatcha out like a starved man, honeybee, but we don’t gotta lot of time left baby...”

with that, bakugou shuffles his sweats down enough for his cock to spring free, tip bright red and leaking against his toned, scarred abdomen. with practised ease, he hooks your right leg over his waist and positions your dripping cunny right over the head of his length. it takes everything katsuki has not to plunge deep inside of you, to abuse your tempting cunt until it’s formed into the shape of his cock but for once he wants to take you slowly, enjoy his time with your limp body at his disposal.

pressing his girth against your slick entrance, your husband sighs, coating himself with the remainders of your delightful release. the mess you made just for him, makes it easier for him to guide his cock between your velveteen folds that take him so well. his free hand comes up to brush over your cheek and even in the depths of your rest you manage to nuzzle into katsuki’s palm and make his coo— what a precious little doll you are, so good for him and always so obedient no matter what state you’re in. fuck, it drives him so insane that he can’t even think straight.

“...suki....”

fucking hell. the way you sigh out for him so mawkishly whilst you dream makes him twitch, not even half the way inside you.  “c’mon honey baby, don’t go moanin’ my name like that when i haven’t even had a c-chance to make you mine yet—“ the blonde shudders, eyes screwing shut as he finally bottoms out inside of you. katsuki let’s out a choked moan, from deep within his chest while you welcome him into your lethally syrupy cunt. “ohh, fuck, that’s the stuff, good girl...”

bakugou’s thrusts start slow yet, forcing your limp body to jolt up the bed and your tits to bounce in tune with the rhythm of his hips— your little hole sucks him in so greedily, so selfishly, clamping down on him as if to prevent him from leaving your body as a whole. pro hero dynamite is shaken to his core, how can his precious baby take him so darlingly while she’s asleep, refusing to let go of him and keep his cock tucked away inside of you.

shit, shit, shit.

he wants to defile you, asleep or not, ruin how pure and angelic your body appears even after years of being together. it’s your fault he’s like this anyway, you deserve to have your pussy destroyed no matter the circumstances— ruby framed eyes threaten to roll back into his skull while bakugou picks up the swirl of his hips between your sticky thighs, you flutter and squeeze around the girth that’s stretched you out so many times before and yet you still remain a tight hole designed for your husband and your husband alone.

lips map their way up the column of your neck, committing every dip and scar and blemish to memory even though katsuki knows where each of them are. the amber colour of the morning sun highlights each of your marks, your husband giving you as many lovebites to match each one. “nn, suki...more..” you whimper, so quiet he almost misses it underneath the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin. could you feel how he deflowered you in your sleep? ruining such a good girl while you resting? he wants so bad to corrupt you from the inside.

static stretches across katsuki’s brain, crackling as his neurones fire and dopamine fizzes in his veins. cum. cum. breed her. it’s too soon but the blonde can’t help it, pent up and high on the morning sunrise— addicted to the taste of your skin licked with light perspiration. it’s been ages since he’s had you like this, can you blame him for not hanging on so long? bakugou lifts your thigh higher on his waist, using it as leverage to plough into the deepest parts of you, his precious wife, desperate to cream inside you before wake up.

“mm, know you’re close lovebug, won’t you cum for me suki?”

katsuki’s gaze hones in on you, vision blurred and hazy with lust from his impending orgasm. your own eyes are heavy with sleep but the soft smile on your face is filled with a familiar adoration and saccharine love that the blonde can never get tired of. he knows that you know your voice alone is another to send him speeding off of the cliff of release— your hole squeezing around him, beautiful hips that once brought his children into the world gracefully moving up and down to coax his girthy cock to its final release.

“honey baby,” katsuki whines like a broken man when you cup his face, hot puffs of air warming up the space between you.  his hips don’t let up though, driven by the way you move against him beneath the sheets, he’s so close he can almost taste it. “c-couldn’t wait for you to wake up, needed you so fuckin’ bad...”

your mouth hangs open in a quiet groan, getting lost in the claps of sweaty bodies against one another and katsuki latches onto your lower lips to swallow your noise— breathing it in and letting it spread through his body like oxygen. “oh, lovebug, y-you don’t...” you pause, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the angry tip of your husband’s cock grazes against your gummy spot, sending your walls into a flurry of flutters that make katsuki twitch. “ ...you don’t ever have to wait with me, d-don’t hold back, kay?”

you’re a breathless mess, a sight to behold and he can’t take not having you filled with his seed any longer. the lazy push and pull of your bodies smacking wetly against each other become erratic thrusts, heat pooling in the abdomen of the pro hero boiling him alive in feelings of desire for you and you alone.

bakugou quivers from his lips to his toes when he cums, filling your slippery walls with a creamy white and lining your insides with the claim of your man. your man. your husband. “fuck, fucking hell,  h-honey, gimme that pussy...gimmie that fuckin’ pussy,” his groans linger in the crisp early morning air, dancing with the static while he orgasms within you, endless bouts of white stuffing you to the brim. you kiss in an attempt to calm him, squeezing around his thick cock to ride out his high. you taste of orange liquor  and manuka honey, addicting while he sucks lavishly on your tongue and spares you the air you need to breathe. ‘cause at the end of the day call you need is him.

“did you cum, precious one?” ever the gentleman, katsuki has to ask but even you can see in his blood red ruby eyes ( no matter how tired they may seem ) that he’s gearing up for a second round, shallow thrusts pushing his own release  deeper into your fertile womb. there’s about thirty minutes until the kids wake up, but your lover can make you see stars in fifteen.

you shake your head once as bakugou rolls you onto your back— strong arms caging you into the prison if his love. large hands dance tenderly up the back of your thighs and you meet his eyes with such a saccharine smile his heart bursts at the sight of you. “you’re insatiable, lovebug,” the tingling notes of your moan caresses bakugou’s cheek as he manoeuvres your legs to fold you into a mating press, shifting his weight above you. “did you really need me that much, daddy bear?”

“think y’already know the answer to that, honeybee,” katsuki drawls, tripping over his words filled, oh so generously with blazing desire. he still remains sheathed inside you, a darling whine dripping from his cherry lined lips— the ones sore from kissing you— as he gives an experimental thrust into the tight heat of your core. you accept him willingly, opening up for him like a blossoming flower which makes katsuki’s hot breath stutter from the overstimulation. neither of you can look away, sharing the intimate moment of his length sinking into you— katsuki groans as you suck him in inch by inch before leaning over and attaching his lips to yours, licking at the seam of them in order to coax them open. his wife is a tease however; denying him the pleasure of sucking on her tongue...for now at least.

but it’s all worth it, for katsuki wants to burn the erotic sight of you beneath him into his mind forever. your skin shines like it was kissed by the setting moon, eyes hooded and holding a lust that only burns brightly for him while your chest heaves in anticipation of your husband claiming you for the second time that morning. “m-move suki, please—c-can’t...” the tail end of your pleas fall away with the fading night sky.

the man doesn’t need to be told twice.

save for a few shallow thrusts to get going, katsuki soon finds himself pistoning into you at an unruly, god speed pace. the blonde revels in the way one hand of yours twirls strands of his hair between your fingers whilst the other digs crescent moons into his blemished honey skin. helpless huffs and candied cries tickle bakugou’s ears while he presses your body flush against his and pins you down with his hips.

their movements don’t ever waver, cock catching on every ridge your damp pussy has to offer him, each thrust calculated amplify your pleasure that rolls in heatwaves throughout your body. katsuki’s mind grows blank, thick with the mirage you’ve cast over him from the way you push back against him, taking more of his inches into you.

“ngh, lovebug,” you say, high off of euphoria while katsuki’s leaking cock bears down harshly on your g-spot and you smile up at him deliriously— looking like the eighth wonder of the world. you grab the hand your husband uses to keep your thighs up and bring it down to your tummy for him to feel what you feel. “can feel your cock inside me, love, so big...makin’ my tummy bulge like a good daddy bear...”

something snaps within katsuki at the sound of your breathless praise; a feral blaze setting alight deep inside his chest— spreading throughout his body as his cock drives deeper and deeper inside your spongy, wet cunt— just about breaching the gates of your cervix. breed her. fuck her. make her swollen with your cum. bakugou can’t even think straight; intoxicated by the way you move against him, the way you look so full of him and his thick length.

he wants you to look full all of the time. so katsuki does with the only way he knows how. dropping his head to your neck, sharp attack your neck with blossoms of bruises forming under your skin in the name of love— you whine, a gorgeous symphony of his name against his ear while you tangle your fingers in the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. “y’can’t jus...jus say stuff like that to me, honey...” bakugou croons against your skin, screwing his eyes shut while his hips pick up the pace and plunging his length right into your womb. the sounds of your arousal wetly spill into the sex scented air— fuelling katsuki to thrust into you faster. “not if you...n-not if you don’t want me to fuck another one of those shitty brats into you.”

as stuttered as his words are, bakugou means every single one of them. a primal desire activates in the back of his mind, overriding every single of senses. just the thought of lining your womb with his pungent seed, making you pregnant once again and seeing you round and full with katsuki’s child is enough to drive him off of the rails. And the pro hero knows that you feel the same, he can tell by the way your heat clamps down on his cock and strangles him, as if to milk him of every ounce of his cum.

“yes, want you to make me pregnant suki, make me a mommy again, please—!”  you simper out loud, desperate tears springing to your eyes while the bed groans beneath you. visions of you round and swollen with a baby drives him to thrust into you harder, faster so that more and more of his precum spills into you. “know you want it, want it too...your cum, deep inside me—ohmygod suki—yes!”

bakugou slaps a hand over your mouth, watching as your sweet doe eyes brim with tears at the languid roll of his hips against yours. “careful honeybee, don’t want the kids to...fuckin’ hell... h-hear—“ he stutters, eyes rolling, limbs shaking violently. his other hand drops between your conjoined bodies, drawing vicious circles into your swollen clit to draw you closer and closer to the edge. star dust is littered behind your eyes, the bright white signifying the race to your high that only katsuki can give to you. “or do you want to be heard, you want everyone to hear how full you’re gonna become when i get you pregnant again. how you’ll whine and beg me to suck on your tits when you start makin’ that sweet milk for our baby. is that what you fuckin’ want, yn?”

you can’t help the way your pussy flutters around his cock that brutally grazes your g-spot— the dirty words your husband speaks like music to your ears. a symphony with his moans and the sounds of his balls slapping against your bare ass.  “oooh, shit baby, you must do with the way your lil cunny clamps down on me—just like that...”

“oh god, lovebug please...cum...cum! need it daddy bear—can’t take it anymore,” you babble against katsuki’s hand, brain turning to mush at the unbearable pleasure. the knot in your tummy becomes tighter, close to snapping as the white light of pleasure clouds your view.

patterns drawn diligently against your clit speed up; turning to quick figure of eights to tease your orgasm. “‘course you fuckin’ do honey baby, my little breeding bitch. my sweet little wife who can’t wait to be a mommy again. take this cock, you dirty whore. take it and I’ll give you my fuckin’ baby.” bakugou slurs, losing all control as the pace of his hips begins to falter. you can feel his dick twitching inside of you, tip pulsing with the need to paint your insides.

your gazes lock within the frenzy, while your back arches and hips lift to take your husband deeper inside you. dynamite is feral like you’ve never seen before; an animal reduced purely back to instinct. unfocused red eyes become teary like your own with hot pleasure while they lock onto you but you know that behind lust; loved the adoration and love your husband holds for you. thats all you need to reach the edge and tumble into your orgasm,

it takes but a few more thrusts and a pinch to your clit before you’re cumming— release squirting out and splattering against bakugou’s toned abdomen.

the blonde never lets up while you cum undone on his iron hot rod, letting him pump into you with unrelenting feverishness. katsuki is desperate, needing an extra push even with you strangling his cock with your insides. “s-say you’ll make your daddy a daddy baby, say you’ll give me another fucking kid. fuck, fuck yeah...please honey baby—“ bakugou damn near sobs, trembling violently above you as his breath hitches with ever hiccup.

smiling gently, you pull his head to your neck, cradling your husband while his pace slows to circular grinds. “i’ll make you a daddy again, you can cum for me now lovebug...”

“shit, shit, oh god— cummin’...” thats all bakugou needs to hear before bottoming out inside of your abused hole—  screaming against your bitten flesh and forcing his cock into your fertile womb as he sprays with his thick, sticky seed. white coats every ridge and crevice of your pussy while impatient thrusts slow to sensual grinds. you feel the tears of neediness soak the supple skin of your neck, rocking your hips against katsuki to milk his cock for all it’s worth— even if slow waves of his cum seep down your folds and to the sheets below.

“g’morning, katsuki,” you sigh blissfully, fingers combing through your lover’s sweaty mop of sun kissed locks. the pair of you lie still, limbs still intertwined as you catch your breath under the orange hues of the light outside.

your husband shifts his head to look at you, eyelids heavy over blood red eyes with a satisfied look on his face. he’ll never get over having you all to himself first thing in the morning— katsuki bakugou will always consider that a luxury and as he looks to you, a great smile soon takes his features. “yeah...good fucking morning to you too, angel face,” bakugou doesn’t dare pull out of you, intent on keeping his word. “love you yn, you’re always so good to me...”

katsuk’s lips mould into a pout as you continue your earlier ministrations of brushing back sweat slicked hair away from his face before pressing a chase kiss to his lip and making his cock twitch from over sensitivity, inside of you. he was always a sucker for the romantic moments after a passionate round of sex, he was a domestic, love struck son of a bitch what could he say? “suki...lovebug, you know you can pull out if it’s too much,” you remind him, the sound of your voice pulling his attention back to you. as he stares; katsuki maps out every detail of your face, the way your eyes glitter in the mellow light that peeks from between closed curtains or the slight dip across your cheek in the form of a scar from where you’d been injured on the field— he spends time committing it all to memory as if it’s the last time he’ll get to witness such beauty. “you’re staring, bug.”

“nuh uh, not pulling out.” huffing, bakugou leans up for another kiss, which you happily provide him with as he curls up onto your chest like a kitten seeking warmth. “keepin’ you plugged full s’you can get preggers like i fuckin’ promised.”

“you were serious?” you question him first, earning yourself another grouchy huff before your eyes roll and a comfortable silence sweeps across your bedroom, periodically interrupted by the morning birds waking up and chirping. “always a man of your word, huh bug? don’t worry, we’ll make you a daddy bear soon, but i’ve got to clean up before the kids wake up.”

“don’ you fuckin’ move— leave the dumbass kids, they’ll be fine on their own.”

“not with taiga’s quirk coming through, now move, you’re heavy.”

with that, you manage to shove bakugou off of you and he only hisses lightly as his softened cock hits the cold air, already missing your heat. the banter between you both as husband and wife is always light and you always win; he wants to bite back but anything he says will be soft on his sharp tongue. damn you and you being the love of his life. bakugou watches as you fix his shirt over your frame and head to your en-suite bathroom to make yourself more presentable to your kids— mumbling something about how many times katsuki came inside of you.

sure there was a lot of it, but he’d only cum inside you twice and he was trying to give you a baby. again.

the shower turns on and he can hear the sound of water running but it doesn’t cover your sweet voice as you call for him. he could never miss that. “katsuki bakugou, you horny bastard, i love you, my daddy bear!” you sing for him; making the blonde smile.

“i love you more, honey baby,” he chuckles back, tucking himself back into sweats before settling back into the ruined sheets.

bakugou was so luckily to have you and you’re beautiful children— he wouldn’t trade any moment of his life for the world except for maybe more time with you. he swore, he’d spend forever loving you if he could.

“daddy?” sweet thoughts are cut off by the groggy voice of bakugou’s eldest daughter, taiga, who stands in the doorway of his bedroom rubbing her cherry red eyes.

the blonde grins, rising from his place in bed and crossing the room in three short strides. he quickly crouches down in front of his little girl and ruffle her unruly mop of matching blonde hair. “g’morning brat, what’s up?”

taiga clutches her shoto plushy tightly, the one uncle todoroki had gotten her for her first birthday ( the one that bakugou hated because it was his daughter’s favourite— kirishima hated it too because he had always thought he was the favourite uncle ), and pouts down at her father, scowling sleepily. bakugou knows if you could see the two of them now, you’d be saying she was the spitting image of him. “tatsumo woke up n wouldn’t stop whinin’, fink he’s hungry, daddy!” the little girl grumbles, clearly still reeling in the after effects of her sleep that got cut short.

“how about we go get him and make some pancakes then?” katsuki suggests softly, hauling his daughter onto his bare shoulders and being mindful not to drop her stupid fuckin’— i mean her plushy to the ground. “y’gonna help me mix up enough batter for ya ma n’ brother, you got that brat?”

taiga squeals as at the new found height, wrapping a singular chubby arm around bakugou’s head for support, making his heart burst at the tiny hand that grips his chin. fuck, he loved his life. “only if we can add choco chwips, daddy!”

“oi, don’t you push your fuckin’ luck with me brat, ya mommy might let you get away with eatin’ shit like that but not me—“ bakugou makes an attempt to scold his daughter while they make way towards his son’s room, but he already knows he’s going to give into her. he can’t say no to taiga.

“i’ll tell mommy you cursed at me!”

“why you little sh—“

“careful, katsuki, if you keep cursing her out i might have to put you on punishment later,” taiga bursts in to wriggly giggles on bakugou’s shoulders, making it harder to keep her in place as you brush past him to grab tatsumo from the nursery.

“daddy’s gonna get in trouble!”

the teasing tone to your voice lingers in the air while you fetch your son, who seems groggy and pouty when he comes into katsuki’s view— wrapped up in your arms while you wear a cleaner shirt of his. there’s that glint in your eye, similar to the one your children posses when they’re doing something mischievous. and  that alone tells the ash blonde he’ll be getting punished in ways that could lead to another little one rushing through your house.

bakugou can roll with that.

but for now; he reaches up and pinches taiga’s nose— telling her to stop running her mouth and sending you into giggles while you carry your children downstairs for breakfast. katsuki bakugou couldnt remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep, but what he did know is that he’d always remember the very saccharine mornings he’d get to spend with you and your beautiful children after.

bonus:

“taiga, did you put chocolate chips in the batter even though i told you no?”

bakugou had turned his back for but a mere second to grab some milk for tatsumo; who played happily with smooshed bits of banana in his high chair— and suddenly, the batter was littered with the offending, tiny pieces of candy.

“no, it was mommy!”

“yn...”

you quickly throw your hands up in the air as defence, dropping the packet of sinful treats to the counter. “what? i’m having cravings, bakugou!”

“you’re not even pregnant, yn!” the man himself raises his spatula at you accusingly with a scowl, biting down on his tongue to prevent himself from cursing again.

you smile up at your husband, knowing he can’t stay mad at you for long. “but i will be, katsuki, it’s the thought that counts.” your eyes flicker up as you wipe the melted chocolate on your finger tips off with your tongue before moving to settle your daughter down for breakfast. bakugou splutters, cheeks flaming with a reddish rose at the thought of your soon to be baby and all the activity that comes with making one which makes you laugh. “oh and lovebug? your pancakes are burning.”

with a jump, katsuki turns to flick off the flame and save his batch of pancakes while you tend to your kids— leaving him to contemplate over your chocolate chip breakfast, how lucky he was to have you.

“i crave chocolate, can i get a pregnant?” taiga squeals shortly after.

“not a chance in hell, brat.”

♡ taglist:

@ozzy-bozzy @bakugous-mamas @meg-mystic @runningon-5percentsleep @cyans-bliss @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @paintedr0ses1 @69meggg69 @sapphoscolonoscopy @toshidou @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @candybabey @alrunemara​ @greenchild​

[pinknatural]

Cas wakes up, as he often does, with his nose pressed into Dean’s shirt. Dean is wearing the shirt, of course, and Cas inhales the scent of husband-laundry-sleep-soft and tightens his grip around Dean’s waist. Dean sighs, a soft unconscious noise, and Cas hums, happy, sleep weighing on his eyelids once again, pulling him tumbling back under.

  When Cas wakes again, he is alone. This is also normal, since Dean likes to get up and get started on breakfast, so Cas rolls onto his back, stares up at the ceiling. He flexes his hands and sits up, scrubbing sleep from his eyes, and when he turns to slip on his slippers (his feet get cold but he cannot sleep in socks), his gaze falls on a vase of flowers on his nightstand. The flowers weren’t there before he went to bed. 

They’re lovely, pale blue forget-me-knots. Cas touches a petal gently, smiling at the little blossoms. There’s a small card on the table beside them. Cas picks it up. It’s a white piece of paper, folded in half, with a crayon drawing of a red balloon on front, drawn in shaky hand. Cas flips it open.

I LOVE YOU FOREVER AND EVER YOU ARE THE BESTEST DADDY EVER!!!!

It says on the inside, with two distinct stick figures drawn under the words, one tall and dark haired, one small and blonde. Both are winged, with careful crayon swirls around their heads, making a child’s approximation of accurate halos. This is the greatest gift Cas can fathom, and he folds the card carefully, tucking it safely inside his bedside drawer. 

He glances at the flowers again, shaking his head fondly before he stands and crosses his bedroom and goes down to the kitchen. 

Soft music is playing, resolving from some sort of beat into Led Zeppelin as Cas approaches. He watches Dean at the stove, flipping pancakes, while Jack stretches up to carefully put one of Cas’ honey jars on the counter. Then Jack crosses the kitchen and clambers onto the chair beside Dean to watch him flip the pancakes. 

“I wanna do it!” Jack says, and Dean turns to smile at him. Neither of them have noticed Cas in the doorway. He’s content with that, watching Jack wrap a tiny hand around the spatula, Dean helping him wedge the plastic between the pan and the cake. Little face screwed in concentration, Jack flips the pancake over. “I did it! Did you see, Dee!”

“I saw!” Dean says, taking the spatula out of flying hands. “You did so good!”

Cas can’t help himself--he claps. Dean and Jack turn to face him, and almost instantly Jack is off the chair and barrelling towards Cas. 

“Daddy I did it! I flipped the pancake!”

“You did amazing,” Cas says, bending over and picking up his son easily. “How lucky I am to have such a talented son.” Jack wraps his arms around Cas’ neck and buries his face in his neck. Cas cradles him as he crosses the kitchen. 

“Good morning,” Cas says, greeting Dean with a kiss. Dean meets the press of their lips briefly.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he says. Cas smiles. After much insisting, mostly from Jack, Cas had picked a random day for a birthday. He likes the spring, so he picked the beginning of it. He hadn’t thought he would care much for a birthday, but he’s only been awake for about half an hour and already he feels special. He hopes Dean felt as special for his birthday, a few months ago, and that Jack will feel even more special on his, in almost a month. 

“Happy birthday Daddy!” Jack cheers, kicking his little legs, and Cas shifts one hand to put on a leg, stilling him. 

“Thank you, my little honeybee,” he says, pressing a kiss to the soft blonde hair, and then turning back to Dean, who’s half-focused on the pancakes but still attentive, always attentive. “And thank you, my darling. I loved the flowers.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks, flushing a little. 

“Yes,” Cas says, firmly. He wants to kiss him, but Dean is pouring more batter onto the pan and Cas doesn’t want to distract him. Instead he looks back at Jack. 

“And thank you for your card,” he says, and Jack beams at him, gap-toothed and wide. 

Dean sends them both to the table to wait. It’s already set, otherwise Cas would’ve started to. He rolls his eyes when he sees the napkins carefully folded under the forks. Of course Dean would go the extra mile to make sure Cas doesn’t have to set the table on his birthday. 

“Hey kid, I need my sous chef!” Dean calls, and Jack scrambles off of Cas’ lap and back into the kitchen. Cas turns back to the table, reaching out for the mug of somewhat-warm coffee that’s sitting by his plate. There are cheerful white daisies placed in the center of the table. Cas hides his smile in the mug. 

There’s a piece of yellow cardstock, folded up in front of Cas’ plate. He puts his mug down and reaches for the paper, his name written on the front in familiar handwriting.

Hey, Cas. You know you’re my best friend, right? I hope you do. I’m really glad you pulled Dean’s stupid ass out of hell, and even gladder you decided to stick around. These past thirteen years have been pretty great ‘cause you were in them. You make my life better, and not just ‘cause I like seeing Dean happy. I’m proud to call you my brother, man. Hope you have an awesome day. 

Cas wipes away a stray tear, running a finger along Sam’s narrow handwriting. Oh, Sam. Cas has had many brothers, but Sam is by far his favorite.

Dean and Jack bustle into the dining room with plates of food, and Cas catches a soft smile from Dean directed at the card in Cas’ hands. Cas puts it aside and digs in to the delicious breakfast Dean and Jack made for him, vowing to thank Sam later. 

After breakfast, Dean insists Cas vacate the entire downstairs so he can decorate for the party without Cas seeing, so he takes Jack outside to play. It’s finally warm enough that all Jack needs is a sweatshirt, and he barrels around the backyard at full speed for several minutes before he comes back, crawling into Cas’ lap and demanding he tell him about butterflies. 

Cas obliges, trying not to think about the novelty of having a birthday party for the first time in the million years he’s been alive. 

“I useta be a butterfly but now I’m a caterpillar,” Jack says, chewing on one of his fingernails. Cas gently takes his hand out of his mouth. 

“You’re special,” he says. “My special little boy. You’ll be a butterfly again someday.”

“Okay,” Jack says, trusting in Cas, and he leans his head against Cas’ shoulder. Cas holds him. 

The party is at noon, and they have a pasta bar with spiral noodles. Every time Dean makes pasta he gets a new type of noodle, and the novelty of this hasn’t worn off for either of them yet. 

Sam and Eileen bear a wrapped present and tight hugs. Cas tells Sam thank you for the card, and Sam grins at him and claps him on the shoulder, squeezing gently. 

“Love you, dude,” he says, then he bends down to greet Jack. Eileen scoops Cas into a hug so tight it feels like she’s going to lift him up, but she doesn’t, just reaches up to ruffle Cas’ hair and take the present from Sam to set it on the counter. 

Jody and the girls come in with a bustle of activity, and the house gets even louder when Garth sets his toddlers on the ground. Jack runs over to them to play, and Cas greets Garth and Bess happily. 

There’s a lot of people, and the house is beautiful decorated with balloons and streamers. After lunch but before presents and desserts, Cas finds himself sitting on the couch, taking a moment. Jack runs up to him, holding a piece of paper, and he gives it to Cas before running away. Cas assumes it must be a drawing, and he opens it gently. 

It’s not a drawing. 

One time I went hunting for a banshee and I met some tall idiot. That day when he walked away I thought to myself “yeah, I’m gonna marry that guy”. I did, obviously, since I’m always right, and there are a lotta perks to being married to Sam, but I think some of my favorites (well, the PG favorites) are the family I gained. I grew up mostly on my own and I hunted mostly on my own, and I never really knew what I was missing. Cas, I’m so glad I found family with you. Thank you for embracing me and taking me in, making sure that even if Sam is a Leahy now that I knew I was a Winchester, too. I really appreciate that. And look, don’t tell Dean, but you’re definitely my favorite brother. You deserve nothing but the best, and I hope you know that. And I hope you get it. I love you, Cas.

Cas looks up. Eileen winks at him from across the room, then turns back to Alex. Dean sits down with an exaggerated oof beside him, wrapping an arm around his neck. Cas turns to him, burying his face in his shoulder. Dean runs his fingers through Cas’ hair tenderly. Cas has no idea what to say. 

Dean made a cake, despite the fact that he doesn’t really like cake. It’s chocolate, and has HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAS written on the top in green frosting, and it’s delicious. Cas kisses him after taking one bite, somehow thinking it wouldn’t be good because Dean doesn’t make cake ever. But he was wrong. 

“He came over to our place and practiced,” Sam tells him, grinning. 

“He made us eat all the practice rounds,” Eileen groans. 

“Stop spillin’ all my secrets,” Dean says without bite, handing a slice of cake to Patience. Cas has to kiss him again. 

Garth and Bess gift Cas with a hand-knitted sweater, made by Garth. Jody and Donna give him a gift card to a spa day. Alex gives him a bag of artisanal pastas, in yet another shape that has Cas beaming. Patience gives him a package of seven colors of nail polish, noting that she’d seen him wear nail polish before but only ever in one color. Kaia and Claire give him a record for a band that Claire introduced to Cas, and Sam and Eileen give him three books, two of poetry and one a fiction novel Sam promises Cas he’d like. Jack hands Cas his present with much solemnity, and when Cas opens it he reveals a bright purple fidget spinner. 

“It matches,” Jack explains, referring to his own purple fidget spinner, lost somewhere in Jack’s shark bedsheets. Cas tells Jack he loves it, and he does. 

“More cake?” Dean asks, when everyone has left, including Jack, because Sam and Eileen took him for the rest of the weekend. Cas wanders over to the counter. 

“Sure,” he says. Dean turns around to cut a new slice. He passes Cas a fork, and a napkin, and a folded card, and the plate of cake. Cas looks at the card, then at Dean, who has already busied himself with a new piece of cake. Cas rolls his eyes and opens it. 

Hey, Dufus. It’s kinda hard to tell you this stuff but I guess that’s where writing it down comes in handy. I don’t actually have to look at you. Um, I just wanted to thank you I guess, for coming back. I know I’m not easy but you never give up on me and it really means a lot. Thanks for watching over me and healing me when I do stupid stuff on hunts. I guess if someone had to snatch my dad’s face, I’m glad it was you. Couldn’t imagine a better stepdad, or whatever you are. Love you.

Cas swallows, says, “You should’ve given me this before she left.”

“She wanted me to wait,” Dean says, crossing the kitchen with his own slice of cake. 

“Well,” Cas says, but doesn’t have anything else to add. Dean bumps him with his hip. Cas picks up his fork.

They go out to dinner. When they come back, Dean crawls onto their bed, ruffles through his bedside table. By the time Cas has taken off his slacks and the sweater Garth gave him, switching it out for an Zeppelin shirt he stole from Dean and pajama pants, Dean has a wrapped present on the bed beside him and yet another card sitting on top of it. Cas gets on the bed and ignores them both, reaching for Dean. 

“Don’t you want to read your card?” Dean asks, wrapping his arms around him anyway. “Open your present?”

“I know what it says,” Cas mumbles into Dean’s chest, because he does. Because Dean shows him every day how much he loves him, how much he cares, and he even showed him by asking Cas’ family to make cards for him. This whole lovely, perfect day was orchestrated by Cas’ lovely, perfect husband, and he doesn’t need to read it to know. 

Of course he will read it, and open the present, but right now he wants Dean to hold him. 

“Thank you,” he says, shifting so that his face is tucked against Dean’s neck, tangling their legs together. Dean always holds him so tight. Beautiful, amazing Dean. 

“Anytime,” Dean says. He presses a kiss to Cas’ hair, and they lay together for a long, long time before Cas reads his card, opens his present, realizes Dean is still dressed for the restaurant, helps him take his clothes off, and then gets thoroughly distracted before he can help put them back on. 

“It was a good birthday?” Dean asks. Cas sighs and snuggles closer. 

“The best.”

[ashiemochi]

*boop* hey bby, how do you think Leon would react to getting his ass SMOKED by Reader in a drinking contest? Like, taking shots, chugging a beer, or something of the sort? Maybe with Vendetta Leon? 👀👀👀

honeybee!! Leon would be fucking SPEECHLESS - especially since he had just met you and didn't expect you to be so heavy weight towards alcohol. I think Leon met you in one of the bars with a big jug of beer whilst he only ordered a shot of whatever strong that bartender's got.

"Bad night?" You asked, nudging your chin to his shot of whiskey that you knew it knocks men out in an instant.

Leon chuckled, shaking his head as he kept his eyes down on his drink, "Wouldn't have worded it better. What about you?"

You returned to your drink and shrugged nonchalantly, "Nothing - just having some fun." Then you ticked your eyes to his shot glass between his fingers, "Careful - last time someone drank that, they got dicks drawn on their face."

Leon raised an eyebrow at you, something sparkling in those blue eyes.

"Is that a threat?" Leon asked, tilting his head from the side as he narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously and playfully. You had a coy smile as you took an innocent sip from your beer.

"I am a well-known penis artist after all."

Leon held eye contact as he brought the shot glass up to his lips, staring at you with such intensity through half-lidded eyes as he chugged the whole thing down in one gulp. Your eyes trailed down to his bopping Adam's apple, counting the scattered moles imprinted into his beautiful tanned skin.

The glass was slammed back onto the island and the agent had a tilted grin, clearly unbothered by the stinging sensation of the alcohol. His eyes were challenging and that's all your mind needed to be made.

You snickered faintly, Leon catching your small impressed smile on your red lips before you began chugging the beer nonstop. Drops rolled down from the corner of your lips, dripping down your collarbones and your shirt, not allowing Leon to look away from you.

Utterly in awe, Leon silently watched you down the whole jug before you let out a heavy sigh once you emptied it, the jug thudding dully onto the wooden island. You spared him a prideful stare and Leon chuckled, raising one hand whilst keeping his eyes on you.

"Another round over here."

It must've been hours since the 'drink off' had started. Every glass, bottle, shot, jug; all were drunk by you two. You seemed to be holding onto your alcohol very well, a hazy smile on your face as you leaned back against your chair with one last shot glass of the strongest tequila.

Leon was out of it. He always assumed he could handle his drinks well, perfectly even. Leon had his arms onto the table, one covering his eyes and the other holding onto the shot of tequila. His liver was probably cursing at him with its entire non-existent lungs, disowning him as its owner.

"What, Kennedy? Giving up already?" You teased and Leon huffed at you, shaking his head at your tactic to make him drink more. He would never fall for that.

Yet he did.

Leon downed the tequila, the burning in his throat becoming so stinging that it was numb to the alcohol. He hissed through his teeth, eyes squeezing shut at the sensation before reopening them, settling them onto the last shot he got left. Then Leon looked up at you through droopy eyes and a heavy head.

You flashed him a quick smile before downing your last shot and Leon could've sworn he saw you cringe at the taste but he assumed it was the alcohol in his system playing tricks on him.

That was the last thing he remembered before Leon groaned, leaning his head onto the table as his vision blackened, hearing a faint and distant-

"Holy fuck - hey, Kennedy. Wake up!"

The next day Leon woke up, his head was the epitome of Big Ben striking midnight on New Year's Eve. The pounding made Leon so sick that he had to hurriedly drag his body to his bathroom to empty his guts. Leon doesn't even remember getting to his motel room in the first place. His memory was all hazy and fuzzy as Leon groaned deeply, pinching the space between his aching eyes.

"Fuck... Shit - okay, never again..."

That was a lie.

Leon pulled himself up to the mirror, splashing water onto his face to freshen up before he'd go and treat his hangover. Narrowing his eyes at the scribbles on his face, Leon leaned towards the mirror a little to make out some smudged numbers on his forehead accompanied by a dick on his cheek and a red lipstick stain on the other.

Leon blinked at this, fingertip reaching up to the smudged lipstick on his cheek before his heart jumped to his throat (along with vomit) and he picked up his phone to save the number before it was completely wiped.

Leon: Is this Y/L/N?

You: And who might you be?

Leon: Forgotten me already? I'm hurt. It's Leon,

You: Ah, Kennedy! How's your head?

Leon: Haha, very funny. I'm not done with you just yet.

You: What, up for round two already? Dinner first - sheesh, I'm a lady with dignity.

Leon: Alright, sweetheart, dinner it is then. Is 8 good? Different restaurant. Same bar ;)

You: ha, you got it, Kennedy.

You: Looking forward to beating your ass again <3 :)

[enternalempires]

Downfall of a Liar

This is a Lukanette fic. Some fluff, some angst, a lot of salt and Luka being a King of Revenge. You all get to see the more conniving part of our snake boi. Hope you enjoy! Haven’t figured out how to use links yet but my Ao3 username is the same. Basically,  Lila Rossi has gone too far and Luka Couffaine is going to do something about it. He is, after all, a Couffaine… a little chaos never frightened him.

Marinette came to him on a Friday afternoon with sad eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Her knees were bleeding and her wrists were bruised, hair messy and lip busted. Her dress was ruined with an ugly paint smear and her stockings underneath were ripped.

“I fell down the stairs,” She told him, looking away. “I didn’t mean to. I must’ve fallen into some paint.”

Luka didn’t believe this.

The wobble in her voice and the unsteady way she had stumbled right into his chest when she saw him was not the actions of a girl used to her own clumsy feet. Marinette was a strong girl and he knew how much of a burden was placed onto her shoulders. She did not crack easily and she did not do it over being a klutz or smudged paint. She did not cry over repairable things, over broken nails or washable clothes. She did not come to him looking upset and watery-eyed without feeling one step from breaking.

These were things he knew.

So, after calming her down and getting her to take a shower, offering her clean clothes and a warm bed, and letting the girl he fell in love with fall asleep on his chest to the sound of his heartbeat, he did some digging.

He went to his sister first and found out the real story.

Marinette was in the art workshop, Mrs. Bustier having set up a lesson in there during the last hour of the day, with the other members of the band as she helped Nathan and Marc on their story.

She was honestly just being nice— as Jules explained— then the bitch, his sister’s respective name for Lila, sauntered into the room and started to wail about how Mari was only helping the two co-creators because she wanted the credit for their work.

The girl he fell in love with defended herself, and her friends did the same but with most of the Akuma class— excluding the band members and Nathaniel— having fallen for her tails of woe and amazing, yet false, life experiences, they sided with the liar instead of Mari.

Then, throughout the rest of the class, the bitch found ways to terrorize Marinette (going as far and tripping her and cutting her dress with scissors, dropping her paint onto her, pushing her into things, or slamming different objects onto her wrists) and then blame her for getting in the way.

Juleka and Rose had helped Marinette calm down a little as the girl broke into tears as soon as they were away from the rest of the Akuma class but she just kept panicking— and ran away. They didn’t know where she ended up until he texted them and asked.

Then Luka asked for Alya Cesiare’s phone number and made an unsettling discovery.

Marinette and the blogger were no longer best friends.

And, horrifyingly, she had been accused of being a bully, a liar, and a manipulator. Lila painted his melody in the way that everyone should view her instead.

Finally he created a group chat with a few allies he could trust.

He contacted Adrien Agreste (because even if the boy had been painfully oblivious that Marinette had once been in love with him, he would do anything for his lady), Kagami Tsurigi and her girlfriend and spoiled brat, Chloe Bourgeois, the boyfriends Marc and Nate, and then the rest of his band.

He named it ‘The Marinette Protection Squad’ and, just like that, the war was on its way.

*-*-*

Lila Rossi was waiting in the back of the school by herself when Luka arrived. He found her hidden between one of the walls and a thick oak tree and he didn’t bother to hide himself as he crossed the grounds over to her.

She saw him, surprise lighting her features for a second before it shifted into a— what he would guess, if it wasn't on someone so repulsive— a seductive smile.

“Luka!” She squealed, sauntering up to him and stopping a few feet away. “How are you, sweetheart? It’s been forever since we saw each other, since your last year in Lycee, right?”

“I don’t care,” Luka took a step back, face emotionless as he looked down at her. His eyes gave away nothing as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’ve made a lot of people angry, Lila.”

“A-Angry?” She stammered, feigning innocence by putting her hands over her heart with too wide of eyes to be real. “Why would they be angry with me?”

“Because you’re a liar and you hurt the people they care about— you hurt the person I care about.”

“Oh,” Lila straightened her back. “You must be talking about my bully.”

“Your bully?” Luka scoffed, less than amused. “Sure, I’ll play along for a minute. Who is your bully.”

“She’s... s-she is Marinette,” The liar sniffles. “And she says such horrible things about me and they’re not true! She pushes me and, and she rips up my homework and she insults me. Whatever you heard isn’t true, I swear!”

“Are you done?” He sighed out, shrugging his shoulders to make them relax more. “You’re a lying bitch, I get it. I’m not here to let you try to sink your claws under my skin, not that it would work, I’m here to warn you.”

“Warn me about what?” Lila asks, voice going a bit nastier than she probably intended.

What a two-faced bitch.

“That you should watch your back,” He says simply, turning slightly to walk back to his house. “You pushed a lot of people into your enemy list by threatening Marinette and now you’re about to face the consequences. It’s only fair to give you a head’s up.”

“Marinette,” she shrieks, “is nothing but a liar and a horrible person—”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, no matter what anyone says, is the kindest person you will ever meet,” Luka snarled, whirling on the sausage-haired girl so fast that she stumbled back, unprepared. “And I’m hers. You hurt the wrong person, you egocentric bitch, and you’re going to pay for it.”

Lila gaped for a second before she forced an innocent look on her face, mouth opening to say something but the musician just continued, eyes hard and narrowed and angry, mouth drawn into a tight line.

He was a generally calm person, he could handle a lot before ever blowing a fuse. Because he was also a Couffaine at heart. He thrived in chaos where others wither and when it came to those he loved, nothing would stop him from protecting them.

Especially when the one he loved and had to defend was the girl he fell in love with.

“She is thoughtful and compassionate and selfless and astounding in how she will push herself to the knife’s edge just to make sure her loved ones are okay. She is a cinnamon roll but the fiercest ally you could ever have. There is no stopping her, there is no convincing her to step down when she’s standing up for something that’s right— when she’s standing up for someone, unless that someone is herself.”

He took a step closer and, well, that must’ve been pretty intimidating because she scrambled to take one back, causing a humorless chuckle to leave his lips.

He was his mother’s son but he had enough of his father in him to leave others terrified.

“And you want to convince me that just because you have the Akuma class, Mlle. Bustier, and M. Damocles so far up your ass that people will hate her? Really? Let me tell you something, sweetheart," He gave a cruel smirk, voice mocking as he repeated what she called him earlier. “This isn’t you and all your puppets against Marinette, it’s now you against the entire school. You might pretend to rule this place but she is the one who everyone looks up to and loves. She’s their sunshine child and leader and she has connections everywhere. She knows people that could make your life a living hell and it is her kindness alone that has spared you in the past. And you should have cut your losses when you had the chance because I, however, am not as kind. You declared war, Mlle. Rossi, do not be surprised when your downfall comes knocking on your door.”

With that and smirking at the ugly glare on her face, Luka saunters away, whistling a happy tune despite how tightly his fists are clenched inside his pockets.

It’s a week later when they make the first move.

Ivan and Rose, because despite her size she puts up one hell of a fight, are Marinette’s bodyguards during school. They prevent her from getting hurt while Mylene, Marc, and Nate make sure to record anything and everything Lila does that’s incriminating towards her reputation. 

Juleka is on sabotage duty during school to make sure any plans backfire onto the bitch while Adrien is the distraction. Both were excellent at their job. Almost scarily good.

Outside of school Kagami and Luka strategize and come up with plans to make sure anything Lila says can be used against her. They organize groups and make sure that Marinette and her family doesn’t get bothered by Lila or any of her followers.

One by one more people in the school help. Marinette’s friends from different classes going from the highest grade level to the first year students at Lycee all jump in when needed— when they overhear a lie and debunk it by pulling up proof or contacting the people involved directly (Marinette isn’t the only one with contacts).

One by one Lila is getting more isolated, one by one she’s losing her power.

And it’s so satisfying to see that Luka goes to sleep laughing.

It’s not even a full month before the Akuma class had fully left Lila’s side, the last to turn was Alya— the reporter so distraught over how she realized she had been treating her former best friend that she had a mental breakdown.

It was a month on the dot when Honeybee and Ryuko got video footage of Lila snatching one of Hawkmoth’s butterflies from the air with a wide grin and a “What can I do for you today, boss?” and it was a week later when her life got ruined.

(Marinette was so overjoyed that the constant terror— in her civilian— life was going away that she kissed Luka until their lungs ached and, just like that, Luka got revenge and a girlfriend in one sweep.

And that girlfriend was very, very grateful for it too. Most nights he went to bed with bruise-kissed lips and a beautiful girl in his arms. Marinette looked happier than she did in years and all the planning and frustration melted away when he saw her wake up with a smile.

He couldn’t protect her when she was fighting an Akuma but he’s proved more than enough times that he could protect her when she goes back to having two left feet.)

First she got expelled from her Lycee for false accusations, thief, bullying, and cheating. 

Then her lies— ever last one of them— were exposed and her mother was informed about what her daughter was up to and even waved her daughter’s diplomatic immunity— being absolutely disgusted with her daughter’s behavior— when the court cases of people suing her for fraudulence, harassment, threats, attempted murder, and acts of terroism.

Last, but not least, Lila was banned from Paris and all the cases stacked up against her were moved to a different court within France so they wouldn’t even have to see her again.

Though they did see her screaming and shrieking and snarling towards Luka as he joyfully waved at her when the bitch was getting dragged to the back of a cop car, “You! You did this! You made this all happen! I’m going to get you back for this, Couffaine, I swear I’m going to get you!”

She seemed absolutely insane, drool going down her chin from how hard she had been yelling, eyes frantic and face flushed and she jerked like a wild animal trying to get out of her cuffs and the officer’s hands that held her back from attacking the young musician.

He was a Couffaine and this chaos made him delighted to witness.

After all, it’s not everyday you get to see the downfall of the bitch who made the love of your life miserable.

Luka just laughed and sent her a cocky wave, “I look forward to it, sweetheart.”

Well… you can’t say she wasn’t warned.

[badatjokezz]

Haikyuu!! Rare Pair Fic Recs

i’ve been so hype about some Hq rarepairs lately now imma list some of my fav fanfics, mostly OiSuga mwehehe.... 

(probably gonna add some more in the future)

Oisuga (Oikawa x Sugawara)

1. Stuck in the Middle With You by overlymetaromantic

It's not the kind of blossoming relationship either of them would expect, but maybe, just maybe, it could lead to something good.

1. In which Suga and Oikawa run into each other on a late night convenience store run.

2. In which Suga and Oikawa inadvertently switch bags and end up with the other’s uniform.

3. In which Suga gives Oikawa the lecture he doesn't want but probably needs, and Oikawa might accidentally be a little in love.

4. In which Oikawa won't shut up about Suga, and Iwaizumi plays matchmaker just to make him stop.

5. In which there is not a date, and Suga likes spicy things much more than sweet.

6. In which Karasuno and Aobajousai hold training camps in the same neck of the woods, and the trip back proves to be more revealing than it probably should.

7. In which there might just be a future to this after all.

(Dis is so fluffy i might die)

2. moving on (growing up) by _helios (neocitz)

‘I’ll do it,’ Suga says, walking into their prep school and dropping his bag on the floor next to Oikawa. He shoves the melon bun and drink forward into Oikawa’s hands, and stands there looking down at him because he knows that he needs to not chicken out.

‘You’ll do what?’ Oikawa looks up through his glasses, eyes wide and confused as the other students stream in around them.

‘The fake dating thing, I’ll do it.’

‘Fuck. Yes.’ Oikawa says with a fist pump.

(It’s been AGES since i read Fake/Pretend Relationship fic, this one is goood)

3. how strange, to be remembered by venusintwelfthFandoms

"He is not formed of the type of dust that makes up stars. Suga is not the type of person that stays in the mind of one like Oikawa Tooru, ten years later. He is formed of the type of dust you shake off, the type that settles into the ground."

Ten years after Suga last steps off a high-school court, Oikawa recollects a "Mr. Refreshing" in a post-game interview, and Suga is left scrambling.

(Cute one-shot, Oikawa still remember Mr. Refreshing from Karasuno)

4. all the small things by Authoress for lemedy

Sugawara Koushi.

Oikawa’s brain supplies the name of the person standing at the other end of the aisle before Oikawa can even register him, attuned to spitting out facts about other volleyball players on a second’s notice, even after all these years. Karasuno High vice-captain. 174 cm…no, more like 176 now. Skilled at raising morale and bringing an element of surprise to their strategy. Troublesome. Refreshing. Setter.

The enemy.

(Single Dad! Oikawa, cuuutee ugh)

5. Win Some by kingdra (aroceu) for Icie

Tooru does not have a problem, its name is certainly not Sugawara Koushi, and he is not going to the Karasuno practices just to watch him. Regardless of whatever Iwa-chan says.

(High school romane~)

6. Even as bright as you are? by BKAKCANON

That night when he goes to sleep, he includes "the safety of fairies" on his prayers, making a promise to whoever was listening him, that he'd protect all the fairies and keep their secret safe forever.

[Where Oikawa meets Suga when they are kids and Oikawa believes Suga is secretly a fairy and decides he has to protect his secret all costs.]

(This is basically matches my headcanon)

7. getting to know you by oisugasuga

Suga feels like he’s back on the court then, his heart thudding hard in his ears… so hard he almost misses what Oikawa says. Unfortunately, though, he doesn’t.

"My, my. What a surprise," Oikawa Tooru says. And then… "Hello, Mr. Refreshing."

(Haven’t finished yet but DAMN I LOVE OIKAWA AND SUGA IN HERE, single dad! oikawa, and Suga babysitting oikawa’s kid, def slow burn. Imma follow this fic till death)

8. Dear Reader by hyirule

No one seems to read the paper anymore. But Oikawa likes to for the sports section. One day he finds himself reading a section called "Dear Reader" and finds a submission he can relate to.

Basically messages sent through a page on a newspaper brings to unlikely souls together, who maybe have more in common than they first thought.

(Cannon compliant, simple and... refreshing(?))

9. rest by shicchaan

Tooru looks at the sleeping person beside him as he waits for the lights change into green. The growing fringe of his husband started to cover his eyes but he can still see the beautiful birthmark under the silver haired's left eye.

(Established relationship, fluff fluff!!!)

10. long is the road (that leads me home) by ichweissnichtauch

He thinks about himself, deleting contacts from his phone and throwing coffee cups away without even looking at the string of numbers scrawled in Sharpie ink underneath, and he’s tired of hiding, tired of carefully treading the lines he’d drawn for himself all those years ago.

Just this once, Tooru wants— he thinks he wants to be brave.

Oikawa Tooru is not a stranger to wanting.

(like... 20% Oisuga but i like the way this story follows the Cannon till he get to Argentina)

11. It's Always Been About You by mintycarrots

Every time Tooru had envisioned meeting his soulmate, it was a confession of love, filled with tears of happiness and a lot of making out. It would be a faceless petite girl that would support Tooru in whatever he chose to pursue and would understand when Tooru prioritized volleyball over all else.

It was never a boy on the rival team.

(Soulmate AU)

12. a play in three acts by venusintwelfth

"The first time Sugawara Koushi sees Oikawa Tooru play, he thinks that if he wasn’t so set on volleyball, he’d do well in theater."

the first seijoh x karasuno match through the eyes of suga.

(Kinda poetic i guess, well written af)

13. colors by dazeful

Sugawara Koushi's colorful life as an archer.

(this is like the perfect oisuga one shot ive ever read)

___

IwaSuga (Iwaizumi x Sugawara)

1. And so the moon cried by iwriteinpenFandoms:

The hillocks are the domain of unearthly creatures. Creatures of rot and fog, of music and dance. Like ghosts in the night they travel without leaving footprints, they disappear in a flurry of long dresses and pale hair. Those who are fated to see them risk curses far worse than death. You may hear them, a giggle in the wind. You may smell them, the smell of the fog rolling in through the trees. You should pray you never see them. Iwaizumi Hajime is a simple man. He works a simple farm job and enjoys simple things. After one morning where he woke next to a perfect circle of death and only the memory of brown eyes and cold hands, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to the forest. Will the tales of his childhood play out with him at the center or will he have to disregard all reason?

(Danish Folklore AU)

2. Cry Just A Little by DreadfulMind

Suga was whistling a tune to himself as he opened the door to the bathroom, so he didn't hear the muffled crying through the door. But he could hear it clearly once he was inside. He heard the sharp sob of someone trying to stop.

"Iwaizumi?" He asked, "are you sure you're alright?"

(Simple but c u t e)

3. Generations by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor), mozaikmage

Professional sports blogger Sugawara Koushi writes an article about a volleyball match that bears special meaning to him and his former kouhai: a showdown between Kitagawa Daiichi and Yukigaoka Middle School, ten years after the teams faced off for the first time. He doesn't plan on capturing the attention of the world of sports journalism, and he certainly doesn't expect himself to end up having a thing for one of the coaches involved, one Iwaizumi Hajime.

(Time-Skip, I loved it)

___

KuroTsuki (Kuroo x Tsukishima)

1. Invictus by Chiru

Kuroo T. » So let me get this straight (gay?) Kuroo T. » You want me to pretend to be your perfect and fabulous boyfriend, so that your little freckled friend will stop trying to set you up with cute little highschool girls? Tsukishima Kei » yes Kuroo T. » Aha. Tsukishima Kei » you'll do it? Kuroo T. » I don't know. I missed the part where I get something out of it. Tsukishima Kei » you get to annoy me. Unfortunately Kuroo T. » Tempting, Tsukki, very tempting indeed.

(Fake/Pretend Relationship, some fluff, some angst, i read this in the middle of the night and cried, fortunately happy ending)

2. hold onto hope if you got it by nekolyssi

"Now, in the beginning of their third year of high school, the obnoxious hollering and incessant spirit of his teammates became normalcy to Kei. And now, normalcy is this. Weekly psych meetings. Pharmacy waiting rooms. Prescriptions. Refusal of prescriptions. More prescriptions."

(Not finished yet but yep prolly gonna put this one to one of those best haikyuu fics ive ever read. I wasnt so interested at first but i really like the idea of mental ilness etc, this is g o o d!!)

3. [KuroTsuki Fest Week 2017] Traces by Heartythrills 

Kuroo’s disappeared for a little over a week now, and suddenly a 4 year old who looks like him appears before Tsukishima’s apartment.

(Age regression, fluff)

4. I swear by xArtemisx

Like the shadow that's by your side I'll be there

"What are you doing here, Tetsu? It's cold." Kei asked softly. Tetsurou smiled. Hearing his name came out of Kei's lips is always music to his ears.

"Nothing. I just came to think that whatever memory we make, may it be happy or sad memories, the bright moon and the starry night sky is always there to be the witness. Did you notice?" The alpha answered and Kei nodded. He also noticed it.

"Yes, I did noticed it."

(I love agony and sad ending....)

5. Honeybee by ClosetGoblin

Tsukishima has trouble sleeping one night during a Third Gym Camping Trip. So, he takes his acoustic guitar and passes the time with some music, and gets a visitor. Maybe he doesn't mind Kuroo's voice as he does the screeching that Lev and Hinata call singing.

(Simple but sweet)

6. Say You Like Me by the_madame21

It's been three months. And Tsukishima Kei is going to see Kuroo Tetsurou.

(light angst and.. s m u t. Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamic)

7. trying to get to you by mytsukkishine

Everything came crashing down on Kuroo when Kei had left him alone with nothing but the moon shining down on him.

Wherein, Kuroo was struggling to move on and decided that he wouldn't mind being with Kei again.

(sad beginning? yes. sad ending? y e s. you’re a masochist? come get your juice)

8. Please Hold by ThemooncatFandoms

Kei was expecting Kuroo to do one of two things; Send a text to the office saying that they will have to call back another time and continue what they started, or excuse himself from Kei to answer the call, which was most likely. He shouldn’t have been surprised when Kuroo does neither of those things.

(short but hot. what’s hotter than quiet sex?)

___

Ushijima x Oikawa

1. This Insignificant Pride and Prejudice by Mysecretfanmoments, Pouler (poulerslashes)

Oikawa Tooru graduated high school with the burning desire to succeed in his college career. He'd hoped that might include taking down his arch-nemesis along the way, but when he finds that his college team hosts an offensively familiar face, he can't help but think that the universe might be conspiring against him. After all, what could be worse than playing on the same team as Ushijima?

(It was funny for me reading oikawa/ushijima fic with that “you should’ve come to Shiratorizawa” joke at first but somehow i found this one... endearing :3, cute poor ushiwaka)

___

Atsumu x Nishinoya

1. All the things I love about Yuu by KilluCoulomb

Atsumu Miya is fixated in Nishinoya. The way the boy acts, talks, plays. He Carefully observes from afar, but he slowly warms up to the Libero. Friendship becomes more and more intimate. Atsumu realizes Nishinoya is not that simple guy he met three years ago. And he loves it.

(pro volleyball players AU)

2. i'll see you then by noyabeans (snowdrops)

Nishinoya Yuu and Miya Atsumu build a rivalry and something more.

“Oh, it's Karasuno’s libero,” he says, mildly surprised to see Nishinoya’s face staring back at him from the brochure, grinning wide with his arms folded over his chest.

Contains spoilers for the current manga arc, up to chapter 380.

[asgardian--angels]

I’ve seen nobody talking about this, so I will.

I study native bees and so the situation with Bombus affinis - the rusty-patched bumblebee - is never far from my mind. This is the bee that most people think of when ‘pollinator conservation’ is mentioned to them, if anything comes to mind at all (besides honeybees). It’s a shining example of our devastating impact on America’s prairies through decades of industrial farming, and the path that many more of our native pollinators will take very soon if nothing is done. 

The rusty-patched bumblebee was once found throughout the eastern United States, from the midwest through the northeast and Atlantic states. Through rampant and systematic destruction of the open grasslands and wildflower meadows it needs to thrive, it has been extirpated from all but a few states, representing nearly a 90% loss in range, and possibly even a 99% reduction in abundance. This is a species that is teetering on the brink of extinction, and unfortunately it’s neither the first nor the last of our bumblebees to do so. Franklin’s bumblebee (Bombus franklini) was endemic to a small area in California, and is presumed extinct after failing to be found in extensive surveys since 2006. Several other once common species - the American bumblebee (Bombus pensylvanicus), golden northern bumblebee (Bombus fervidus), western bumblebee (Bombus occidentalis), and yellow-banded bumblebee (Bombus terricola), have all been experiencing sudden and severe population collapse in the past thirty years. 

The cause? Habitat loss. There is no doubt in any pollinator biologist’s mind about that, and to proclaim otherwise is not only false and foolish, but actively dangerous and certainly fueled by political and economic motivations from on high. Habitat loss (along with its cousins, degradation and fragmentation) is the primary cause of biodiversity loss and population declines of all species worldwide. Any other factors contributing to bee declines - pesticide use, diseases/parasites, climate change - are attacking already weakened populations, weakened by a lack of floral resources, nesting sites, and refuge from human disturbance. Once a species has been dealt such a hard blow, these other factors compound and make the situation worse. It is then that a species may begin a downward spiral that leads to extinction if we do not intervene and work to eliminate the threats they face. We have removed so much habitat from the landscape that many bee species cannot support healthy populations anymore, leaving them vulnerable to the impacts of pesticides and disease, due to stress, inbreeding, and a compromised immune system. 

I cannot be clearer in this. Lack of critical habitat is the reason we are losing our bees. They cannot cope with new threats like climate change (which is having a serious impact on them, by the way) and neonicotinoid pesticides without sufficient habitat to rebound from disaster, to support robust populations with genetic diversity, to even find enough food to provision the next generation. This failure to designate critical habitat means nothing will be done to ensure the rusty-patched bumblebee has enough space and resources to maintain a foothold in the remnant prairies. It means economic interests can continue to develop these dwindling refuges because there’s nothing legal stopping them. The rusty-patched bumblebee represented hope when it was added to the Endangered Species List in 2017, the first bumblebee to be federally recognized. But it won’t be the last, with several more bumblebees in severe decline, and without the willingness and pressure on the government to put its resources towards protecting pollinators, this and many others could go extinct within our lifetimes. 

I’m posting this because I just want you all to realize how ridiculous this is, that they have refused to act to save this bumblebee by failing to acknowledge the reason it is dying out, and how harmful it will be for the survival of the species. The rusty-patched bumblebee faces extinction right now - not in the far future, but within a couple decades if we continue on our current trajectory. The decisions we make in this moment will determine if it survives the Anthropocene or not, and it will makes a clear statement as to how much our vital insect pollinators - and all insects, and all of nature itself - actually matter to us. Are we willing to change our ways for creatures that ultimately determine our own fate as well? Are we willing to fight for them? You are seeing the bargains struck, the compromises made, that lead us down a path that will be worse for everyone. Fight it. 

Being in the field of conservation, I have had the lucky chance to see some disappearing species. To look into the eyes of a saltmarsh sparrow caught in a mist net, as its blood is drawn in an attempt to save its kind. Saltmarsh sparrows will, by overwhelming majority opinion, go extinct within 50 years due to sea level rise. I have seen Bombus fervidus, and Bombus terricola, workers going about their duties, unaware of their peril, and sometimes queens, a small beacon of hope for a new beginning. It is awful for me. It is painful to think that I may live in a time when they do not. When a lineage inexorably tied to this land and perfectly suited to handle every challenge comes to a sudden lurching halt. A silence without the deep droning hum of bumblebees. 

I’m sure there will be pushback against this. It’s a long process. But I wanted you to take a few minutes out of your day to be made aware that this is happening. Make a ruckus about it. At least tell a friend. And please, if you can, support native pollinators like the rusty-patched bumblebee by gardening and landscaping with native plants. Any amount is better than nothing. If you live in a prairie state, get involved with conservation organizations and efforts to restore and protect prairie habitat. You will be making a difference in the lives of many small creatures. Small, but so very important. And so very loved.

[yanderedbdimagines]

If you’re ok with it, could you write some Oni hcs? Idk why but literally the first thing I said when I saw him was ‘I want him to crush me with his arms’. I’m so damn weird. Anyways, just maybe some general hcs of him with a survivor who’s super sweet to everyone, even the killers, and they’re just naturally really chill and calming to be around

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Well, that man is one big thicc boi after all! xD So I can see why you’d want him to crush you with his arms. I was taken aback myself at his reveal and nearly let out a low whistle… I bet he gives the greatest bear hugs, though… And of course! I’m happy to be able to write about him! :D

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 The Oni

* Your golden tongue only speaks of modest truth and sheer amounts of kindness. A very rare and notable trait within the Fog and beyond. It gave you the ability to be able to get along with nearly all of the survivors and to see shreds of goodness hidden within some of the killers.

* You do not interact with these killers, as they remain to be very dangerous to you and any other survivor involved. But somehow, that doesn’t withhold you from feeling empathy towards some as you’d glance at them with remorse whilst huddled in the safety of a campfire.  

* That has slowly started to draw him in like how a giant hornet is drawn to a hive filled with honeybees… He can’t understand your language, but he can tell that you’re pure of heart.

* Through all of the above, you actually will come to have a very addictive effect on the Oni. Adding to the fact that his rage, which mainly ripened through corrupted hatred towards those he deems lesser than him and the never-ending appetite for revenge at the state destiny has left him in, would actually dwindle ever so slightly when he’d be near you.

* You don’t look at him as if he’s a monster- a demon walking the earth. You remain perfectly… neutral… Even when you’re pitted against him, you somehow remain calm and collected towards any kind of odd you’d have face. Even when he’d hook you for a third time or when he’s prepared to thrust his blade through your chest would you only waver a mere second before unavoidable death.  

* He’ll be very possessive over you once his feelings have grown to a certain height. None; killer nor survivor, are allowed to look at you with their sacrilegious eyes unless they wish to have them plucked out of their respective sockets. After all, you are irreplaceable to him. Your mind, your body, your soul… Your blood… 

* Better said, anybody who value’s their life should not get in his way while he’s busy courting you… And sadly for you, he’ll be unbelievably devoted to doing so. Even someone as calm and level-headed as you may even feel somewhat harassed during at least one moment in your forced interactions with him.

[an-upset-librarian]

A Storm of Ice & Wind -- Part VI

As Nesta and Cassian travel North, they talk about the path that brought them together. 

At long last, I humbly bring before you all an update to this little Nessian story of mine. Nothing like a quarantine to get things started, huh? I hope you enjoy this little chapter! 

As always, if you want to be added/removed from the update tag list, let me know! I just copy/paste and I know it has been a while since I updated so...

AO3

I    II    III    IV    V

PART VI

             Thankfully, Nesta held back her surprised scream when Cassian quickly thrust up into the sky with his powerful wings. The drum beat of his wings drowned out the panicked pounding of her heart, but as soon as they cleared the canopy and reached open air, Nesta’s fear was replaced with childlike wonder.

            She’d never paid any attention when she flew before. Never really wanted to open her eyes and look at the world from the new perspective. How stupid she’d been.

            Her breath misted in the chilled air, the early rays of the sun catching it and casting a golden light upon her every exhale. She blinked against the glaring sun as it slowly peeked out from behind the wall of mountains spanning in nearly every direction. She looked down and the forest was only a dark blur beneath them. Washes of greens and browns and snow mixed together until she couldn’t distinguish one tree from another.

            The sky was a brilliant canvas around them. The dawn blushed into life around them, highlighting the clouds and emphasizing the creeping darkness of night as it faded away. Oranges and pinks streaked the sky and clouds. Nesta was in complete and utter awe. They were high enough that she felt as though she could reach out and touch the fluffy clouds around them. A gentle breeze washed through her plaited hair and pinched at her cheeks. She felt as though she was living inside one of Feyre’s paintings.

            The thought of her sister dampened her mood, but not as much as she would have expected. Flying above the canopy, enveloped in the painted sunrise filled her with tranquility, something she had not felt in quite a while.

            A smile lit her face and she nearly forgot who was carrying her when she tightened her grip around Cassian’s neck. The overwhelming sense of smugness exuding from her companion’s pores quickly reminded her of who she was with. He was watching her with mirth in his dark gaze, an all too self-satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

            The itching of her power under her skin faded to the back of her mind as she took in the great landscape beneath her and the skies around her. Nesta saw why Cassian loved to fly, why all Illyrians loved to fly. And what a punishment it was to clip female’s wings to keep them from experiencing such freedom.

            They were silent for the first half hour or so. Cassian focused on his flying and the trials they would face ahead, and Nesta relishing in the calmness flying brought her and the clarity she could almost reach. Before she knew it, she was relaxing in Cassian’s arms, the stress she’d felt about her magic and her overwhelming emotions fading with each wingbeat.

            While the air was frigid, it was a blessing against her hot, irritated skin. The brisk bite of the cold wind on her cheeks and her hands distracted her from the waves of power boiling inside of her. She knew she had to talk to Cassian about it, see if he could help, but her damned pride was still intact even after months of living as a shell of the person she used to be. Though, the person she used to be was stubborn and prideful as well.

            Maybe that person was still inside her, a foundation for the pieces she was trying to put together again.

            She lost track of time, lost in the beauty that surrounded her and the comfort of the arms around her and the body against her. It wasn’t until Cassian spoke, jolting her from her peaceful reverie, that she remembered their goals and what brought them to flying further North.

            “I needed this,” he said, his eyes filled with rare softness. Nesta nodded. She could see the stress leave his shoulders, like a weight was lifted, and the ease in his movements. His arms tightened around her as he breathed in the cold air. “After Hybern, when that bastard shredded my wings-” Nesta tensed in his arms, memories rising to the surface.

            “A part of me thought I’d never be able to do this again, to fly above Illyria with the winter winds against my wings and the sun on my skin.” His brow furrowed. Nesta wondered if it was the bubble that surrounded them, high above the ground with nothing but the clouds for company, that brought up such vulnerability. She felt it too, a tender and fragile part of her heart seemed to light up at his words.

            “I remember,” she started, “seeing you bandaged. I could see it, the determination to be fully healed but behind that I saw your fear too. And I felt it within me. I was in a body I couldn’t recognize with abilities I never thought possible, Elain was-well, she was Elain. Feyre was gone and so was my home.” That piece of her heart swelled with emotion and she felt the tether tying her to the male that held her grow taut. His thumb stroked her shoulder and he stared into her eyes with no hesitation or fear, only understanding. “I remember seeing you relearning how to fly. I wanted you to win that fight.” She met his gaze head on.

            “I wanted revenge, justice, whichever. I wanted one of us to come out of that cursed castle stronger and unchanged.” She clenched her jaw and exhaled a hard breath of air. “But that revenge came at a price. One I don’t know if I can pay.” The memories of the Cauldron and the King that wielded it came rushing back.

            The feeling of that cold water against her skin, the image of Cassian, broken and unconscious, crawling towards her as she fought and screamed. And what came after-when she was inside that ancient thing. The darkness that surrounded her and what she saw inside of it, what she stole. That darkness lived in her now.

            “Some burdens stay with us, like scars that don’t heal right, or broken bones that don’t set. There are wounds of the mind that can’t be healed, only patched over. I know, I have a couple. Knowing that I wasn’t strong enough, despite what these damned Siphons grant me, that I wasn’t enough to save your or your sister, it is the greatest wound I shall ever bear. Deeper than all the shit I did during the war so many centuries ago, or even the war we just survived.” Cassian’s voice was thick with emotion. His arms tightened to the point of pain, but she didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything. She could only listen, as he did for her.

            “I saw what happened to you, what you went through and I stayed away because I thought it would be best, Nesta.” Her name was honey on his lips, and she leaned in like a honeybee drawn to a flower’s nectar. His face was mere inches from hers and she could feel the heat of his breath fan across her face. She could see the golden flecks in his eyes shining in the sunlight.

            “I wish things could have been different for you, but they weren’t. You were dealt a shit hand and you’re trying your best; I can see that now. I know it isn’t easy. I know.” For once, Nesta actually believed he did know, that he did understand. That he could understand, somehow, the pain she felt. Their scars were different, but if she could recognize those marks on his soul then he could see hers. Another piece of herself fell into place as she stared into his eyes, as she felt his pain and saw his empathy. She took a shaky breath and cupped her hands around his face. They were hovering, almost, in the sky together. Locked in their bubble together.

            “I see you too, Cassian.” She pressed her forehead against his and felt him shudder. A sense of ease and comfort overcame her. It was so easy to be close to him, to be vulnerable with him. In the bubble, she didn’t care about her pride or her wounds that refused to heal. Cassian murmured her name, as if saying a prayer and for once she wanted to answer that call of devotion, without thinking about what it could mean.

            “I-” she stuttered, too afraid to finish.

            “I know,” he answered.

            She thought about the first time they met, when she was still human, and the war seemed like something impossible happening in an impossible place. How she judged those that accompanied her sister. So much has changed, but now it felt right. The thread that connected her to Cassian was singing. It wrapped around her chest and brought warmth and something she never thought she could feel. Its melody was familiar and welcoming, and she was being drawn into its dance. Nesta felt Cassian’s breath against her lips. She thumbed the slight stubble on his jaw and took a deep breath.

            She felt his lips brush against hers and was instantly reminded of the last time she felt his lips on hers, when they faced certain death together as that King walked towards them. Nesta jerked back.

            She heard it again, the snap of her father’s bones. She saw it, his crumpled form. Saw Cassian’s broken wings and body against the earth, looking at her with such grief and loss. All at once, those feelings that dwelled inside her that had been calm since they took off into the skies returned. Her heartbeat sped up and the power inside of her stretched and bared its teeth.

            Nesta pushed against Cassian as the panic set into her bones, nestling besides her pieced together heart. She could hear his voice, a few curses and some attempt at calming words but she couldn’t hear his words. Couldn’t focus. All she could hear was that Cauldron damned snap. All she could feel was the memory of his lips against hers, the salty taste of his tears and the desperation they both shared.

            She couldn’t be here, in his arms and thinking of kissing him. Not when her father was dead, her life forever changed and destroyed, her family lost to her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. There was only the panicked sense of danger that filled every fiber of her being.

            That ancient power inside her relished in her roiling emotions. It took advantage of the brief loss of control she had and lashed out. Her skin was crawling and cold. Nesta’s muscles trembled and despite knowing she was hundreds of feet in the air, the power inside of her wrought havoc. It filled her blood and danced across her skin. She wanted to cling to Cassian, to pull him close and have him tell her everything would be okay, but that power was all consuming. Before she even knew what was happening, her body was finally free of his warm but confining arms.

            And Nesta fell.

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