#anyway i was thinking about it and then i was thinking it would be nice to see Raine returning the favour so to speak

[muwapsturniolo]

Nipple or Tip ( • )( • ) C. Sturniolo

"I also saw one of those weird makeup hacks-"

⟢ funny shit tbh. nipples and tips of dick are mentioned as well as balls. chris being unhinged in ulta, reader done with his bs but also down with his bs.

dividers by the one and only rose toy @bernardsbendystraws

You were a beauty lover, it was well known by everyone in your life. When you were a kid, you were constantly in your moms makeup bag, messing up her high-priced lipsticks and eyeshadows on a daily basis.

As you got older, that love for makeup stayed.

You had a whole beauty room in your two-bedroom apartment. You had the vanity, the box lights as well as ring lights, and drawers on top of drawers filled with makeup you may not even have a chance to touch.

Chris knew of your love for makeup, he has been in you're beauty room one too many times to think otherwise. He never saw it as too much because he knew it was your way of expressing yourself - he was never the one to hate on expression.

So here he was, driving you to the place he should just invest in at this point.

Ulta.

You spent so much time there, that the workers recognize you. You have the credit card, you've racked up points, and you memorized the aisles. This was basically your third home, the first being your own and the second being Chris's.

"Alright, what do you need today?"

You proceed to go through your list as you walk inside the bright store, the sound of Billie's "Birds of a Feather" playing over the speakers. The song distracts him for a moment, but he comes back to reality hearing you say foundation.

"Wait, didn't you just get a new foundation?"

"Well...Yes, but I need another one!" He gives you a look as the two of you walk over to Wyn Beauty. "Technically, you don't need another one. You have about forty of them, but who am I to complain considering you're paying?"

It's comical to him the way you stop in your tracks, your eyes widening in disbelief. "What do you mean I'm paying? It's your turn to pay!"

Chris chuckles to himself, fixing the beanie on his head. "I'm just pulling your clit."

"Chris please stop fuckin' talking to me. That's not even how the damn saying goes!"

He giggles like a schoolboy and kisses your shoulder, motioning to the bright green packaging in front of you. "Go ahead and pick out your millionth foundation."

And so you do, you pick out a new foundation...and concealer, primer, setting spray, bronzer, lip gloss, and lipstick.

"Ok, now a lip liner." Your words spark Chris's interest, his mind going back to a specific video he saw not too long ago. The two of you start walking over to NYX, and he decides to fill you in on the content he consumed.

"So like, I saw this makeup video on tik- Why are you getting makeup videos on TikTok? What girl are you sending them to?"

"I'm getting them because of you, dumbass. You're the only girl that actually puts up with me, why would I talk to another one?" You snicker to yourself knowing he's right.

He's too in love with you to go find someone else.

"Anyway, like I was saying. I saw this video on TikTok where this girl was trying out these makeup hacks or secrets, whatever it's called. So she said the best way to match your lip liner is to match it to your nipples! Crazy shit, but it has me thinking, what if you matched it to the tip of my dick?"

All you could do was stare at him in silence.

"You being deadass?"

He shrugs before answering you, a smirk that shows he's up to no good making its way onto his face. "I mean, I think it would look nice on you. A nice pinky red....It's up your alley anyway considering you have a blush named 'orgasm' and a mascara called 'better than sex' ."

"Didn't I tell you to stop talking to me?" He groans and pulls you closer, his hands settling right on top of your ass. "Come on it would be funny! I will literally give you my card and let you roam in TJ Maxx and I will take you to Chili's!''

"You had me at TJ Maxx."

You whip your phone out, thanking yourself for buying a privacy screen, and begin scrolling through your privet photo albums to find a picture of Chris's dick.

"Wait, you should match one to your nipples too. Then we can compare which one looks better."

He could be so childish at times, but you were the exact same.

The two of you stand in the aisle, holding up different shades of pink and brown to your phone. Eventually, you two settle on "Rose" and "Nutmeg", the two colors being the closest you could get.

Soon the two of you are back in the car and Chris is urging you to try on both lip liners, refusing to drive until he sees them on you. You first try on the brown shade, lining your lips with ease. It was a pretty color, simple and not unusual considering you always wore brown lipliner.

You turn to Chris, asking him what he thinks. "Sexy as usual. You know I like it when you do the brown ones." You smile at his flattering words, giving him a quick peck on the lips before wiping the lip liner off. You unravel the pink liner and swipe it on, rubbing your lips together so it blends out.

"So what do we think? Nipple or tip?"

You see the way his eyes dart across your face, analyzing everything about you.

"Both look good, you know you can make everything look good. It's what I love about you." You find your cheeks getting warm, never getting used to the way he makes you feel so good, even on days when you look like a bum.

"Come on, I promised to let you roam in TJ Maxx." He puts the car in reverse and begins driving towards the retail store. The drive is quiet for the most part, nothing but music and the occasional small talk. As soon as the two of you make it to TJ Maxx, Chris turns to you before getting out of the car.

"You know, I also saw one of those weird makeup hacks where this girl put her foundation on with her boyfriend's balls."

"This the last time imma tell you to shut up talkin' to me!"

[transgenderer]

Give me your Islam trutherism stance. Lay out the whole position. I think I've asked about this before but I forgot. I'm kind of an Islam head. Islam is the only Abrahamic religion I give a shit about. I think the other ones are bullshit. Academically I think critical scholarship on Islam is like just getting off the ground so we barely know anything about it yet. Anyway drop the trutherism. Mohammad was a girl... Mohammad was actually a beautiful anime woman...

well see the thing is. mohammad was almost certainly a real guy, who was some sort of leader of a group of people. POSSIBLY he never lead a large group, and the large group didnt form until afterwards. but it seems like he led at least a large-ish group. he probably had some sort of religious teaching, altho its unclear if he had any original doctrine or was just a passionate judeo-christian monotheist. oh and yknow, he lived and did stuff around arabia (well. some people say syria. probably not syria).

and that's...sort of all we can say for sure about the real muhammad! there's all sorts of other stuff that MIGHT be true about muhammad, especially after they got to medina. but his early life is a blank to us, the same way jesus' life before his ministry is a blank to us. who knows! but people who confidently tell you "mohammad lived in a city of pagans and converted them all" are exceedingly credulous. we have no good evidence that happened

one interesting thing the shwepisode talks about: so, obviously the islamic conquests "happened". in the sense that there wasn't a state there, and then there started being a large state there. but we dont see them archeologically! which is not crazy, they allowed people to surrender. they didnt just raze everything to the ground. but it's unfortunate, it would be nice if we could use archeology to say stuff about early islam. in part, we cant use archeology re: early islam because a huge number of artifacts were destroyed, there's a weirdly small amount of surviving stuff that could tell us about early islam. but it's not clear! posssibly even the *stories* about uthman destroying a whole bunch of alternate qurans aren't true!

its a very weird field. something that is clearly very important to a huge number of people, and yet is in some ways even more poorly evidence than the early history of the christian church, which we have a large number of texts from (i mean, starting in the early 2nd century. but christianity grew much more slowly, so "early christianity" lasted much longer than "early islam")

[ghouljams]

I work at a florist. I hate Valentine’s Day. 40 guys all calling the night before and 80 more day of, all panicking because they forgot. I’m admin- I don’t make the arrangements, but I write the cards. Eugh… having men, grown men, joke with me about the sexy (gross) nicknames they give their girlfriends. They want *me* to write their cards because my hand writing is better or whatever (your girlfriend knows your hand writing is shit, write it yourself!)

One guy went on and on about why he calls his girlfriend his pink energizer bunny- cuz she goes all night long! Yuk, yuk…. Yuck. Let me go hurl in the trash can. Another was quoting Romeo and Juliet cuz nothing’s more romantic than the love story of two 11 year old kids.

My mom owns the shop so, I don’t get to leave until *everything is done*

…would they understand if I came home with chocolates (I work next to a candy shop, it’s quite dangerous) then passed out? Happy v-day bubs… let’s take a nap together. I brought leftovers from the celebration we threw for a successful Valentine’s Day for the staff! (Brazilian bbq!) Is that romantic enough? I’m not asking for a story. Just, would they mind if I did this?

…I’m tired… I’m not directing my crankiness towards you. Ily…. You’re one of the only things making me smile during this hell week. ILY Ghoulie-goo

That sounds awful but also so funny. Maybe I'm an asshole too though because I just walk into the shop and grab a couple dozen flowers to make my own bouquet on the busiest day of the year...

Anyway I kinda love the idea of texting Ghost periodic updates from flower shop hell, sending him the worst cards you've had to write, the guys that come in looking for your cheapest option, reminding him you're bringing home chocolate so he absolutely should not buy any, and you don't even want to smell a flower when you get home.

Which is good for Ghost because he's always operated with a quiet kind of affection that's hard to buy gifts with, or even celebrate holidays like this with, because he's never been one for grand displays. It's nice that he doesn't have to remember valentines day since you spend the week leading up to it complaining about it. It's nice that he can wander to the butcher and pick up a few good steaks to cook, and he doesn't have to mess around pretending he knows anything about flowers. It's nice that you both can sit in front of the telly afterwards and dig your fingers into a box of chocolates that neither of you paid for and pass the ones you don't like back and forth.

"Coconut," Simon grunts.

"Ooh gimme." You open your mouth for him to deposit the halved chocolate square on your tongue. Some action movie you'd wanted to watch plays a rainbow of colors over your face as you chew happily, and Simon doesn't think he's ever felt more comfortable, more happy with someone in his life.

[euphoria-looney]

Idk if you’ve seen Nosferatu but I think a situation like that could totally apply to (Name).

Brief overview:

In Nosferatu, the main character Ellen grows up feeling lonely and isolated. She pleads for a supernatural being to arrive and comfort her and she wakes up ‘Nosferatu’ who makes her pledge herself to him fully. There’s loads of other stuff as well but I think this main idea would be interesting. Nosferatu in the movie is really, really old and ugly, but I think (Name) deserves a fit, hot vampire boyfriend/husband. But essentially he’s like a Vampire Count, aka Dracula.

How it’s play out:

(Name),as a young child, calls out for ‘Nosferatu’ (or whatever name the vampire will have) and he wakes up. He makes them pledge their complete loyalty to him for all eternally, essentially making them his ‘bride’. (Name) is comforted by him, but this connection fades as they grow older.

Then, when they turn 18, Nosferatu calls out for them in their dreams and travels to Gotham, keeping them in his manor. He’s basically a yandere in the movie anyway, so (Name) is kept quite weak and docile due to his mind control, spending most of their time doting on him or sleeping.

Now, I think it’d be interesting for the Batfam to react because the thing about Nosferatu is that the oath to him MUST be consensual, give or take MAJOR manipulation, but still, (Name) has to willingly go with him. So the Batfam have to come to terms with the fact that (Name) literally chose an obsessive, undead (but fit) vampire husband over them.

And ‘Nosferatu’ is NOT going to play fair if they try and take his bride. Literally no Dracula variant does.

I Asked For a Friend, But Got a Husband?

"I sense her in my mind, she's my collar" She's My Collar (feat. Kali Uchis)

So Much More. (Should I name this something new? Since it's a different AU?)

Special (?)

Divider Creds: @anitalenia and @qqmariztwsse

Being young, barely seen or heard, I could only busy myself with books. Even then how many books could I read before feeling that loneliness knaw on me?

Okay, dramatic I knew but who knew this one feeling would lead me to immediately get married by the age of eighteen?

I know how bad that sounds, trust me, I was the one who experienced it.

"What are you thinking about right now, honey?" I felt arms wrap around me.

Meet Elzire.

(Cred to this art and oc: @♱⋆༒︎Ren༒︎ ⋆♱/lcttuve)

"Nothing much," I replied looking through our mail.

How we met, well I believe it because of this, but don't take my word for it, I might just be delusional.

I had gone to the library and saw [D/D] she ecstatically waved to me before Damian pulled her away giving me a sneer. I waved that off and looked around before spotting a book that I’d never seen before. 

It had a blood red cover and the title ‘Forever’, curious, I opened it. It seemed like a child's story as they had short sentences and photos. It starts with a girl who, one day after being tired of being lonely prays to the gods of her world she doesn’t care who or what they sent no matter what they looked like or how they acted as long as they were her friends, and nice to her at least, she would be happy.

Then it happened, a boy her age descended to her and every day they would play before growing old together.

The end.

I put the book back before returning to what I was originally doing, studying for my next exam.

— 

It had been a good week since I read that fantasy child’s book, and I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I went to the library at night when everyone was either on a mission or asleep and to my surprise the book was gone.

Someone must’ve thrown it out, there’s no reason to keep it here anyone.

I let out a sigh before heading back to my room and though I accepted the book was gone I couldn’t help but wonder, could I do that?

No, that’d be silly.

But…

It never hurts anyone to try.

“Please, whoever is out there, please accompany me and become the pillar I can lean on.” 

.

..

…

Welp I tried, back to sleep I have a piano recital tomorrow no time for these goofy beliefs.

3RD POV

 A figure descended into [name]’s room their black hair fluttered from the wind and their red eyes and fangs glistened in the dark of night, their hands like claws before stepping into the light a little more revealing a tall yet built man he looked angelic despite being a vampire that was friends with a demon, specially Barbatos.

He creeps a little closer to [name]’s room crouching to caress their faces. Making them blink open their eyes.

“... Am I still dreaming?” They question themself. Making the vampire chuckle holding their hands in his and asking.

“Do you mind becoming mine forever?”

“Woah, my wish worked… sure, why not.” He smiled happily placing one of their hands on his cheeks and relished in the warmth that their hand brought to his freezing complexion.

Before they had passed out.

He caught them before they could slam back onto their bed and gently laid them down.

“Don’t miss me too much.”

—

Holy crap what was that dream? 

Maybe I shouldn’t mind it. 

For the next few years, nothing changed except my dreams. Then I turned eighteen and it was out of pure luck that I met him, his name was Elzire.

We got married that same year after a few months of dating which I was totally against but then he convinced me and it hasn’t been like our marriage has been going great. I don’t like that he wanted me to be a stay-at-home wife.

Don’t get me wrong I appreciate him wanting this for me because he doesn’t want any workload on me but I just feel that it’s unfair for him.

Too bad the only payment he wants from me is to do simple household things but even that he just hires some housecleaning or helpers instead of letting me do it and when he comes home to get his pillow, it’s nice to play with his hair, might be better than mine.

Today again though I’m stuck at home and there’s nothing to do as I finished everything, it’s not hard when only two people are living in this house.

I went to look through the mail before finding a letter addressed to me.

It’s from Alfred, but I had never told him where I moved… It’s fine, this is Alfred we’re talking about.

“Dear young master, [name], 

How have you been? It's been 7 years since we last saw you or contacted you, I managed to get a glimpse of you and was able to deliver this to you.

Your family has long awaited meeting you again, if you could give them the chance to see you that would be lovely.

Sincerely, 

Alfred Pennyworth.”

I looked over my shoulder to Elzire before responding.

“I got a letter from my old butler Alfred, saying that my family would like to meet with me again.”

“So suddenly, darling?” He raised his eyebrow at that. Seems he was as lost as I was. I told him everything like he was my therapist so he knew too well himself why this wouldn’t make sense.

-

Despite my hesitance, I decided to go.

"Really Sweetie, you don't have to this isn't something that I would waste my time on, so neither should you." One hand on the steering wheel and the other holding my hand.

"Come on, El, I'm curious, 23 years of my life and only now do they care to see me. Wouldn't you also wonder why?"

"Wonder, not meet. but because I love you and I care for you we'll still go." He squeezed my hand a bit before softening his grip again.

We pulled up on the driveway and saw Alfred come out of the manor.

Elzire got out of the car first before opening the door for me, helping me get out.

I approached Alfred before bringing him into an embrace.

"Alfie, it's been so long." I pulled away before directing his attention to Elzire.

"This is Elzire."

"Pleasure to meet you, young sir." Alfred did his bow before leading us to the living room where the whole family was.

"[name]" [M/D] whispered, tears welling up in her eye, standing up and starting to approach me.

I smiled but didn't reciprocate the hug she was trying to give me.

"[name], we realized our mistake. it's time to come home." Bruce told me.

"Well, as much as I'm... grateful for that offer, I've already moved on and had a life, where you guys no longer matter or are related to me anymore."

"What are you-"

"This is my husband, Elzire. And I don't plan to leave him, for this."

Guys I quit on this if you couldn't notice the ending was rushed so badly, I'm so sorry to the one who sent the request I know this isn't what you would like but I kind of had a mind exploration, and now I have no idea what or how to write this request.

Maybe I'll rewrite this in the future but for now, this is the main result. If you were looking for a confrontation. It's kind of the situation of this Special.

Genuinely y'all could make your own or imagine this scenario. I have no idea what I'm doing anyway, thank you so much for reading this I don't think I'm tagging anybody on this and supporting other batfam authors, especially with all the hate that I've been seeing Luckily I haven't received anything.

Bye-bye, if anything is too unclear and grammatically wrong inform me!

Elzire:

(Cred to this art and oc: @♱⋆༒︎Ren༒︎ ⋆♱/lcttuve)

-ILoveeeMoney

[yoyomomiko]

Headcanon of reader cooking with Sanji?

— SANJI ☆

pairings: sanji x female reader

cw: not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

— (a/n): this is such a cute idea I just HAD to write it (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) so sorry of this is too short or boring!! -> m.list

Sanji is an absolute perfectionist in the kitchen, so if you're not experienced, he'll gently guide you. If you are, he'll still lowkey try to take over so that everything comes out perfect.

He loves seeing you in an apron. Bonus points if it's one that he picked for you. If it has ruffles, a cute design or is a bit too big for you so he can tie it snugly around your waist? He's in heaven.

I feel like Sanji would stand behind you while you chop ingredients, hands brushing over yours or gently grazing your hips, praising you for what a good job you are doing.

If you happen to be struggling with anything, Sanji will drop everything to help you. Even if something is burning on the stove, you take priority.

The moment he sees you lick a bit of sauce off your fingers, he's completely gone. He WILL grab your hand and kiss your fingertips, muttering about how even the food tastes better on you.

If you ask him to taste test something, expect him to be overly dramatic about how delicious it is.

When you try to feed him yourself, he melts. It's a special kind of intimacy for him. He'll take your wrist and kiss the inside of it before taking a bite of the food you're offering him.

If you attempt to cook a meal just for him, he will treat it like a 5 star meal. Even if it's something simple. It could have a terrible taste, yet he would still eat every bite with a straight face and praise you anyway.

If you get something on your face, he will chuckle and gently wipe you clean with his thumb.

He will not let you lift heavy pits or trays. "That's my job, love. I can't let your delicate hands get tired."

If you accidentally cut or burn yourself, he will PANIC like you've been mortally wounded. You won't be touching another knife until he's personally bandaged you and kissed it better

If you feed Luffy before Sanji gets to try your food, he will pout for hours, sulking like a child because he was supposed to try it first.

Also, you are NOT ALLOWED to cook for Zoro. No way, nope.

——☆

You stood side by side with Sanji, sleeves rolled up, both focused on preparing tonight's dinner. It was rare for him to let anyone help him in the kitchen, but for you? You were an exception.

"You're doing really good." He chuckled, watching as you sliced the vegetables in front of you. "I might have some competition."

You snickered, concentrating with steady hands. "You say that, yet you've already corrected me three times."

"Can't help it, love. Perfection is key." Sanji grinned, flipping something in the pan effortlessly.

You bumped your shoulder against his on purpose, a smile tugging at your lips. "Or maybe you just like bossing me around."

He dramatically placed a hand on his chest, acting offended. "I would never!"

The two of you worked comfortably, moving around each other easily. When you reached for the flour, Sanji was already handing it to you. When he needed an ingredient, you passed it before he even asked.

At some point, Sanji leaned over your shoulder, watching as you finished chopping up the vegetables. "You know..." He started, voice thoughtful. "I really like cooking with you."

You glanced at him, raising a brow as you smirked. "Yeah?"

He nodded, his eyes softening. "Mhm. Feels... Nice."

A few minutes later, Sanji finished one of the many dishes, holding it up and letting you inspect it. "What do you think, sweetheart?"

You took a bite, pretending to judge it seriously. "Not bad, cook."

Sanji scoffed, laughing. "Not bad?! That's all I get?"

"Maybe you need a little more practice." You replied with a smirk, shrugging.

He huffed, but there was something soft in his expression, his gaze gentle as his eyes scanned your face. "Alright then. Guess I'll have to keep cooking with you until I get it right, hm?"

★yoyomiko ★miko

[mywordstovictor]

Yeah I’ve thought I was safe talking about testosterone stuff with other trans people just to get told that it’s gross. Like ‘what about bottom growth though? What do you do about that?’ Not something I feel the need to do anything at all about actually. ‘And you want to get hairier?’ Yep. ‘Testosterone makes you smell bad though.’ It doesn’t stop you from showering, though. It doesn’t dematerialize all your deodorant, though. My happiness is worth the potential cost to your nose, though. "It’ll ruin your singing voice." One, you’ve never heard me sing, and there’s a reason for that, two, go listen to some trans guy singers because your blanket statement is wrong, three, you know that most cis guys have voice cracks for a couple years, right? "You won’t be able to have kids." Bold of you to assume I hold my genetic material in high enough regard that I want another human to have half of it. Also, not necessarily. Also, I could have frozen some eggs.

It’s not surprising from cis older relatives, but other trans people? I’m happy for you and the peace you’ve found in the body you landed in and I’m proud of you for staying true to yourself despite pressure to medically transition. That’s a wonderful thing. But I just wanted to talk about how happy my straggly little chin hairs make me because I thought you’d be happy for me, too.

Anyway let’s be nice to each other even if we don’t really understand each other’s needs and choices, okay? We can be confused about why other transes want or don’t want the things they want or don’t want and hold back our judgement to keep from dampening each other’s happiness. ‘I don’t personally understand how growing belly hair, of all things, could make you this happy but I’m really really glad you have the belly hair of your dreams’ is okay. ‘Why would you want that, that’s gross’ is not.

We’re not talking about thinking someone’s lunch looks unappealing (which most people still consider quite rude to point out), we’re talking about the bodies of actual human people. If you might hurt someone’s feelings saying it about their sandwich, don’t fucking say it about their body.

Anyway I’ve been told testosterone makes you gross enough times I wanna rub my somewhat oily man hair on someone out of spite.

everyone knows that cis people need to be less weird about trans bodies but trans people also need to be less weird about trans bodies. no one gaf if ur scared of bottom growth or thinks its weird. keep that shit to urself. ppl keep talking about normalising trans people who don't medically transition but like. don't normalise not wanting to medically transition to the point that medical transition is stigmatised bcs you guys r freaks about trans bodies. no one cares u think that either ftm or mtf bottom surgery is ugly or weird looking. keep that to urself

[cjlouwho]

An Open Door

In which Eddie leaves, and Tommy stays. bucktommy. rated G. read below or on ao3.

Buck waved as Eddie’s truck turned at the end of the street. He stood in the driveway for a bit, staring at the house. Now empty, ready for an older couple to move into next week.

He thought about all the memories there. The many nights spent playing video games with Christopher, the both of them begging Eddie to let Chris stay up ten more minutes.

The times Buck came to Eddie’s with good news, or bad news. A home he was as comfortable in as his own.

A home he’d never step foot in again.

He sighed, got into his Jeep, took one last look, and drove away.

*****

When he got to his loft, he didn’t think twice before heading for the kitchen. He got out a baking sheet, turned on the oven, and went to the pantry to grab his ingredients.

It’d been a while since he’d done this. He’d stopped around the time Maddie had gotten taken, then most of his spare time was spent helping Eddie sell his place and find one in Texas.

But now he had all the free time in the world, which meant he could bake until he ran completely out of flour- then head to the store for more.

As he began mixing the ingredients together for some shortbread cookies, his mind was in overdrive.

He couldn’t stop thinking. Thinking about all the good memories, the way he used to feel, how happy he was every time they made plans, what it was like having him there.

And he thought about how he felt now. How sad, lonely, heartbroken. The way he wished more than anything he could change how it all ended. How he wished the people he loved would learn to stay. How-

Oh.

The oven beeped to alert it was preheated at the exact moment Buck connected the dots.

He knew what he needed to do. What he had to do.

Quickly, he scrubbed his hands, shut off the oven, and grabbed his keys and a Ziploc bag from the freezer.

It was now or never.

*****

Buck knocked on the door, swaying from side to side anxiously as he waited for it to open.

He took a deep breath once the doorknob turned, needing a second to take in the sight in front of him.

Tommy standing there in sweats, a black henley, and his jacket. Hair slightly disheveled, eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the sunlight.

“Ev- Buck, what are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

“Okay." Tommy moved to the side. "Do you… you wanna come inside?”

“I won’t stay long. I- I’ve had a rough few weeks. It- Actually, it’s been a rough few months.”

“I heard about Maddie,” Tommy said. “I’m glad she’s okay. I would’ve called, but I didn’t think it was my place.”

“It would have been nice,” Buck replied bitterly, “to hear from you.”

Tommy nodded, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

“That’s not- I’m not here because of that.”

“Okay. So... why are you here?”

“Eddie left today, for Texas.”

“To go visit Chris?”

“To move there. Y- You didn’t hear about that?”

“No,” Tommy answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “I haven’t spoken to Eddie since we broke up. Are you okay?”

“I was baking-” Buck held out the bag in his hand, giving it to Tommy, “here’s some cookies, by the way. Chocolate chip walnut.”

“My favorite.”

“I know. Anyway, I was baking and I realized that, I was sad. I was really, really sad. And angry. I- I felt betrayed, and lonely, and hurt.”

“Eddie was a good friend to you.”

Buck huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “It didn’t have anything to do with Eddie, Tommy.”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed, a second of confusion washing over him until realization hit. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Eddie’s always gonna be my friend. He- no matter where he is, I’ll be able to call or go visit, and I’m sure he’ll visit here with Christopher. It… It’s you, Tommy. I want you in my life. I- I know I screwed up. I didn’t think everything through, and y- you were right. I was being impulsive.”

“I screwed up too,” Tommy admitted.

Buck nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you did. I wasn’t aware there were rules to figuring out your sexuality and I- I didn’t realize that you went into this thinking I was just passing through-”

“Buck, that’s not-”

“Let me finish.” Buck took a breath, straightening up as Tommy pursed his lips. “I wasn’t using you as a way to test out whether or not I was really into men. You- Tommy, I was all in. It hurt me to think that you never were.”

Tommy waited a moment, then, “Is it okay to talk now?” he asked, voice quiet.

“I’m done.”

“When I asked you out that night, at your place, I had no idea you hadn’t ever been with another man. And when I found out, I decided right then and there that you could set the pace. However slow that pace was, it was on you. I didn’t realize your pace was a hell of a whole lot faster than mine. I didn’t know I’d spend the majority of the next six months out of breath, running to try and catch up-”

“Tommy-”

Tommy held up a hand. “Please, just… let me finish.”

With a little eye roll, Buck held his tongue.

“I’ve never known anyone who,” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “who cares as much as you. I’ve never had anyone care for me or stick around once they really got to know me and that scared me.”

Now it was Buck’s turn to wait a moment before asking, “Is it okay to talk now?”

“I’m done.”

“Love.”

Tommy blinked once. Twice. “Love?”

“You said no one had ever cared for you, but it wasn’t just that,” Buck replied, on a roll now. “It was- is- love. I love you, Tommy. That’s the only way I can explain it, and I should have said it before but I don’t think it even hit me until I was in my second week of trying to make the perfect sourdough bagels. I have never, ever felt the pain I felt when you walked out the door. I’ve never mourned a partner the way I’ve mourned you and I’ve never loved someone the way I love y-”

Suddenly, Tommy’s finger was hooked under Buck’s chin, lifting his head slightly, just enough to press their lips together.

Buck moaned into it and, when Tommy went to back away far too soon, Buck was grabbing onto his jacket and pulling him closer.

Tommy dropped the cookies, bringing his arms around Buck’s back and holding him tight.

“Evan,” Tommy panted as they finally parted for air. “Evan, I-”

“What?” Buck asked, noting the sad look on Tommy’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I dropped your cookies.”

Buck threw his head back with a laugh, grabbing onto Tommy’s face and kissing him again. “There’s plenty more where that came from, I promise.”

Tommy smiled softly, unable to tear his eyes away from Evan’s. “Can you say it again?” he asked.

“I love you, Tommy,” Buck said, no hesitation.

Tommy pulled Buck close, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “I love you too, Evan.”

Buck, feeling lighter and calmer than he’d felt in months, rested his head on Tommy’s shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You want to come in now?”

“I’d love that.”

[barrenclan]

i feel a bit bad for cormorant :( im sure this isnt your intent but it almost feels as though hes settled for a life he didnt want

I'm curious what this is in response to - there's two major things I can think of, so let me explore them for a second!

So, if this is in response to the idea that Cormorantleaf wants kittens and Pinewing doesn't; lemme talk about that for a second. I tried to go into it in the last epilogue, but with their late-stage relationship I wanted to address a trope in fiction that really bothers me, especially as someone who doesn't want to have children. Stop me if you've heard it before:

Characters A and B are in a romantic relationship. Character A wants to have kids, but B doesn't, for whatever reason. They struggle, and talk about it, and eventually A says "it's okay, even if we don't have kids, I'll still love you!" It's really nice, and confirms that they love each other even if they don't want. Except, then, B turns around and says "it's so good to know that! It made me change my mind; I got over my 'fears', and now I do want kids!"

That bugs me. It's always the assumption, even if it's established that a relationship would be okay without kids, it's always on the onus of the person who doesn't want children to change their mind. It's never enough to stop at "it's okay if we don't have kids together" - and then they don't. So that's what I wanted to do with Cormorantleaf and Pinewing's relationship, and it's why I had Pinewing talk about his discomfort surrounding children so often and Cormorantleaf's potential to be a father. If Corm wanted kids more than he wanted to be with Pine - he could leave! No stopping him. But Pinewing matters more to him than having kids does. I find it more distasteful that someone would force themselves to raise children if they didn't want to (it's almost like that's a theme of the story... and kind of exactly what happened with Nightberry). Admittedly, I would've liked to rather do that idea with Daffodilcloud and Duncan instead of the main gay couple, but eh, I already had an end-of-arc theme with Daff to wrap up that would've clashed. These are the decisions you make when writing a story.

On the other hand, if this is in response to the idea that they're traveling around instead of settling down in one place, or that Pinewing is forcing him into the relationship; maybe I was a bit too subtle with what I was trying to get across. Cormorantleaf was actually the first one to suggest that they travel around together, way back in Issue 26:

Corm needs an emotional anchor more than a physical anchor. And this was especially clear in his early development, and how his relationship to Pinepaw was a bit unhealthy (and vice versa, too); he had such intense abandonment issues that he was holding Pinepaw up as a total pillar of support, and believed he wouldn't be able to survive without him.

That's why I wanted Cormorantleaf to have a chance to be on his own during the breakup, and solidfy that he could exist without a relationship, that he didn't need another person to survive. But instead that he could willingly choose a relationship with Pinewing, because it was something he wanted and something he thought would enrich his life rather than an obligation.

All that to say that Comorantleaf's hesitation in the last epilogue is not meant to be presented as "he's being forced into something he doesn't want by Pinewing", but rather "he's scared that them traveling around will cause Pinewing to abandon him, and that makes him panic and lash out".

And Pinewing would have absolutely stayed with him even after Cormorantleaf yelled at him, except that Corm happened to hit on Pinewing's own insecurities that come from his childhood of neglect and feelings that nobody actually wants him around:

You don't have to be un-anonymous to respond to this, and anyways if it's just personal feelings that's perfectly valid and not something I want to try and change. But I never meant to make it seem like Cormorantleaf wasn't happy with where he ended up, or that he 'settled' for something he didn't want.

[tricoloreddango]

| nice guy | yandere Gojo Satoru

Summary: You don’t know what’s good for you. Satoru had enough of your foolishness and ignorance; enough of the dumb woman always putting herself at risk.

dark content—don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with mentioned topics! / female reader / yandere content / overprotectiveness / slight sexism with mentions of women being mistreated and patriarchy / tickling / violence mentions / forced kiss / non-con mentions / forced pregnancy threats / manipulation / not suitable for minors. word count: 5.7k

When Satoru invited you over to his apartment, you didn’t think much of it. Despite him being commonly rejected by his own surroundings, not willing to fit into a Japanese etiquette in any way, you have never truly minded his presence. Sure, he was constantly trying to get on your nerves, acted all childish and disrespected any authority… but he was a surprising warmth in this entire jujutsu mess. A man willing to do more for kids than entire higher up group, someone who wasn’t constantly grumpy despite difficult situations sorcerers have faced daily—this was something comforting enough for you.

Wasn’t it humor that helped people cope with hardships anyway?

You could have called yourself his friend. At least that’s what Satoru called you. You didn’t spend an absurd amount of time together to be ‘besties’ or anything, but enough to know you enjoyed his company… besides occasional headache he’d cause you.

Which didn’t mean you weren’t feeling self conscious around Satoru sometime. You were a third grade sorcerer, a rank considered to be an average, especially when students he taught were already there. You often questioned why someone as great as him stuck around you, and didn’t even mock you… well, that much. You were still holding a title of a “weakling” (allegedly—affectionately).

Your friend didn’t necessarily brag about money, but you’ve tasted money on him. Not only because of the clan he came from, but simply of what he wore or how much he bought on an everyday basis. That’s why the building you saw when reaching a right address, was just as expensive as you thought it’d be. A glass, modern tower build, in the more quiet area of Shinjuku.

The reception of the building was what allowed to get you up to his floor. Your own place didn’t now more than a box for mail.

Security measures were a bare minimum for such high standard apartment complex, though not that the strongest man in the world had much to worry about his own safety.

Approaching the accurate door based on the number given to you through a text message, all with silly emojis, you didn’t even have to do anything—Satoru was opening the door before you could even touch his bell. Nothing to be spooked about, considering he would have smelled your cursed energy from many miles away. In fact, he must have been anticipating your presence because of that, not simply because the appointed hour of your meeting was coming.

The start of the show stood in the doorway, looking at you with a grin. He was dressed casually—beige long sleeve and black pants. “So you did come here after all.” You noticed he wasn’t wearing any eye cover, no blindfold or glasses, forcing you to see these bright blue eyes. It felt weird if not unsettling. You assumed he kept his apartment dark enough to not have to protect his eyes inside.

“Why wouldn’t I? I said I will,” you said with a raised brow, shaking yourself off the stare at him. “Well, Nanami rejected my offer before, so I thought no one wants to play Mario Carts anymore!” he said with a dramatic whine.

He let you enter after you sighed. In fact, he was gracious enough to put a hand on your back to led you inside his apartment—one ridiculously spacious for Japanese standards. He enjoyed the look of your surprise and envy. Light colors on the wall but not clinical white, mix of traditional with modern; so many of the furniture being rattan or white-leather and then expensive dark floor. The harmony was disrupted only with expensive electronics.

“Don’t need to say it! I know it’s nice,” he teased and shoved slippers for you to put on near your feet.

You were in the living room next, on a couch he gently pushed you on. “Heh, with how tiny your apartment is, far away from school, maybe you should move into mine! I have plenty of space, you know,” he teased with a grin, standing in front of you. You didn’t think much of his words, thinking he’s just mocking and joking.

“I don’t know if I’d be able to deal with you on a daily basis,” you teased back.

He pouted, before he left the room to grab you something to drink from the kitchen. Not that the coffee table wasn’t overwhelmed with all kinds of sweets already… and some salty snacks for you, as that amount of sugar wasn’t a joke for even the biggest sweets fans. You were worried for Satoru’s health sometimes, despite him being the strongest.

Satoru returned and handed you a can of your favorite drink, before plopping himself down next to you on the couch. His arm rested behind your head, his body all spread as always—a struggle of a tall person.

“Thanks,” you muttered, before cracking the can open. You realized what drink it was. You’ve been seeing him only at school and you never brought sodas there, so… “But how did you know my favorite drink? I had never actually told you, have I?” you asked with a small surprise.

Your friend smiled widely, his fingers tapping on the back of the couch, accidentally brushing against your hair. “Come on, you’ve mentioned it once! I just memorized it, like a good friend should have.”

You didn’t remember telling him but you indeed were forgetful sometimes. “You’re lucky to find it, then. That drink is always sold out.”

————

As you two played the game, Satoru’s knee would occasionally knock and bump against your thigh, especially during more difficult rides. You knew he was a tall man who needed a lot of space, but there was plenty of space on his gigantic couch. Though… sometimes it felt deliberate when he kept his knee in place for a second too long.

You pouted when he has won, again. “Not fair. You’re good at everything you do. I’ve been a lost cause from the beginning.”

“Ahaha, should I go easy on you then?” he smacked your shoulder, making you wince. “Hey!” You tried to smack him back but he used his barker. “Tsk.”

“And the answer is no,” you said with a sigh and placed the controller on the table, next to empty packs. “It doesn’t count if you’re letting me win.”

“Fine, fine…” Satoru stood up to turn off the console. He stretched his tall body and looked outside of his window through blinds. It was still somewhat light outdoors, so he decided to spend more time with you; a lot was on his mind lately and he needed to check on you.

“Say…” he started, his voice more serious than usual, which got your attention, “… have you been eyeing some man lately?”

His question confused you, not sure why he’s suddenly interested in your love life. It’s not like you wouldn’t tell him on your own. Was he jealous or something? You couldn’t tell, as he didn’t really show vulnerability. No, it couldn’t be jealousy… he’s never truly flirted with you. He was just extroverted in his speech, despite not having many friends. In fact, you could have been his only friend. Maybe it’s friendship he’s jealous about? “No, not really…”

Satoru was smiling widely again. “Good!” he said cheerfully and was sitting next to you again. “Men nowadays are so awful, you know?” he complained as if he’s been the one dating these men.

You snickered. “Not that they haven’t been awful in the history of the world. But not every man is the same,” you responded in thought. It’s true there was a violence towards women, discrimination and whatnot, but you didn’t want to assume the worst with every man. There’s been some exceptions… like Nanami.

“No, they’re all the same. You shouldn’t trust any other man that isn’t me!” he pointed a thumb at his chest in pride.

“Aren’t you a man too?” you teased.

He looked at you with a mocking annoyance. “Yes, but I’m different. That’s why I’m saying this!”

Before you knew it, Satoru tackled you to the couch and started to tickle you. Involuntarily, you started to giggle uncontrollably. His tall and broad body trapped you under him.

“H-hey, stop—ahahaha—” you begged breathlessly.

“No, admit I’m the only right man,” he teased, still tickling you. But something wicked appeared in his eyes; unfortunately you didn’t notice it through your tickling torture.

“Okay, okay, you’re the best, Gojo!” you yelled out through laughing. Your words were just thrown, not meant, as you were desperate for him to stop.

To your relief, he stopped tickling you. However, he didn’t get off of you yet. As you were calming down your breathing, Satoru wiped few tears from your eyes, his expression more focused than playful. You couldn’t help but feel flustered, to be suddenly touched so intimately by him. However, you felt a weird tension in the air. Why was he so intense all of the sudden?

“Gojo?” you asked, your voice both confused and nervous. “Are you going to let me go now?”

Satoru looked you into your eyes, his strikingly blue eyes now appearing even more scary with the way he stared you down. Seeing him without eye cover was already somewhat uncomfortable, but the look was as if he was facing a curse and not his friend. You were getting really unsettled.

“No,” he said shortly, his tone serious. Now you were actually afraid. Not only he was refusing to let you he free as intending to do more than tickling, there was something wrong with this man. He’s never been like this with you. Or maybe it’s always been him under the mask of silliness to not scare you. In any case, you felt as you imagined curses felt when seeing a last blow being delivered to them… a first and last, really. If it was you being his victim, there wouldn’t be anything left behind—not even a mush of your flesh and bones minced together.

“But… what are you even doing?” you asked with unease, pushing your hands at his chest. He didn’t budge—still on his fours above you, his hands on the sides of your head.

Your question was ignored for him to come up with his own. “Do you know how stupid you are sometimes?” his voice was cold, making your stomach drop. Oh god, he was going to hurt you—

“How am I being stupid? I just want you to let me go,” you forced a smile, a weak attempt to make him softer. His eye twitched.

“You don’t know what’s good for you. You’re weak, Y/N.” No -chan honorific to your name sounded as awful, you not being used to Satoru being so heartless to you who’s not a curse to kill. The fact the living room was so dark with the blinds added to the somber atmosphere.

“What?” you asked, your voice naturally angry at the insult, with the fear still settled in your chest. “Why are you suddenly insulting me?”

“You think I wouldn’t know?” he asked, now angry himself. You had an idea of what he was implying.

“Know what—” “Don’t play stupid with me,” he threatened and grabbed your cheeks between his big palm. It was what terrified you the most at this point—you knew he’d be able to crush your skull with just one movement. “I know you’ve got injured, again. Why didn’t you tell me? I had to drag you here to talk and you still didn’t tell me?”

Something like a hiccup left your mouth. You didn’t know when you’ll start crying, unable to be brave in front of the monster like him. Why didn’t you tell him? The answer was obvious. “B-because… because you’d make fun of me, as always. You always call me weak and turn it into a joke.”

“Except I wasn’t joking. You are weak,” his tone was deadly serious. The words felt like being hit in the stomach. Why would Satoru bully you about your strength level all of a sudden? The fact it turned out him having been calling you weak wasn’t a tease but always a deliberate honesty hurt too.

He pounced on you out of nowhere, threatened you and now is treating you like a speck of dust in the area of his greatness.

He let go of your cheeks when he saw you start to shed few tears, not sobbing yet, and sighed as if in pity. A pity not for your distress but for your weakness, as if you’d break so easily should he continue.

“Why do you care so much? Why are you doing this to me?” you said, your voice strangled. Him still looming over you only made you feel more claustrophobic.

“Because people like you aren’t meant to be sorcerers. At least not the ones out in the field. You can put on veils, maybe you can teach English or Math, but you shouldn’t fight. You should have told me you got injured,” he scowled, “No matter now—I’d always find out.”

You didn’t know if it was Satoru’s attempt at being protective, just a very cruel one; or if it was him genuinely despises weaklings like you. In any case, he was attacking all that there was to you. Screw the fact he was trying to control your life. You had an honor and you’ve devoted your entire life to becoming a sorcerer; and now he was acting as if you’ve only wasted your time, disrespecting any of your hard work and goals.

“And you know and so what? What are you trying to get here at?!” you’ve tried to push him off again. No success.

“Give up,” he said bluntly; not about you fighting him off, but about your career as a sorcerer.

You looked at him in shock, before your hand was flying at his face. If you can’t beat him up, maybe you’ll manage to land at least some form of disrespect… if that only wouldn’t provoke him even more.

Satoru grabbed your hand with ease, before he pinned it above your head; the other hand still on the side of your head. His grip was so strong and flawless you were scared he’ll break your hand. He’d need to apply strength akin to a small wind blow to achieve that. You really did feel like a prey, no matter how many times you thought of yourself as his friend and let your guard down around him, laughed and felt happy. You didn’t know the extend of his infatuation with you. Someone who accepted him in and out was doomed from the beginning.

“I meant it. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. You don’t need to worry about money, if you’re scared of losing a job. Just let me protect you,” his voice was finally softer, something you knew took a lot of confidence from him to sound more vulnerable; however he was on the edge and you knew it when he was watching you like a hawk, his eyes threatening in case you disagree. Being forced to see his eyes meant being forced to see his emotions clearly, and you came to a conclusion would feel less fearful facing a sleep paralysis creature. A vision of bleeding under him soon entered your mind.

Nonetheless, his words got you angry, and yet, scared to the core; you knew someone like him was unstoppable force who could do anything and you wouldn’t be able to stop him.

“I don’t want your protection. I want to protect others instead,” you tried to sound confident and convincing, but his words were making you suddenly insecure. Coming from him, they had to have some meaning and value to them… no, you often thought of yourself as weak too.

This awful man dared to snicker against your face, as if wanting to disable your motivation further.

“And get killed? So many like you have died already. All for nothing. You’re not meant to protect but to be protected,” he said teasingly as if the entire scary aura didn’t exist till a moment ago. He also eyed your lips for a moment, before he looked into your glassy eyes again.

“I don’t care if I’ll die, even just one person being saved is g—” You couldn’t finish the sentence as suddenly Satoru was kissing you. Your body stilled in shock. While he acted clingy (occasionally), never had he acted romantic with you… but, this wasn’t romantic. This was about devouring you and shutting you up especially. What was disturbing was kissing you in this situation, so unfitting, even more when he had you pinned to his couch and was making you uncomfortable.

Your natural reaction was to try to shove him off of you and when that failed again, to kick him in between his legs; all useless as Satoru’s hand pinned your legs to the side, twisting your body in uncomfortable degree. Instead, his lips were kissing on you in a very messy yet harsh way, as if never had kissed before or as if he simply couldn’t contain himself—he clearly wanted to do it for a while anyway. He wasn’t discouraged by you keeping your mouth shut tight to not dare to let a tongue in or kiss back.

Your screams of protests were muffled. You could only feel the warmth and pressure of his lips against yours. They were all over, leaving so much saliva and smacking sounds it was disgusting too.

You’ve never seen Satoru in a romantic light which was enough to make you hesitant in the first place, but the forcefulness was the most unbearable.

When he finally withdrew, you were crying already. After the display of his force, you had another thing to fear about—was he trying to force himself on you?

Blue eyes softened at the sight, but their owner’s breaths being heavy exposed the fact he was physically affected by your body more than your tears. You flinched when he wiped your tears off your face.

“Ah, come on! Don’t cry. I won’t hurt you. I just couldn’t listen to your nonsense… wanting to die as if anyone would care about your death. You think that person you’d sacrifice your life for would care?” he mocked, his voice light. The weight of the words wasn’t light in any way, crushing your heart and making you feel like a worthless excuse of a jujutsu sorcerer. You felt as if people truly didn’t care about you, described as someone who’s just a shadow of greater people; not more than a mere helper.

Seeing you cry harder, Satoru finally removed himself from of top of you. You weren’t free though, as he pulled you into a forced cuddle on his couch. “There, there…” he patted your back.

This time, you didn’t even bother to try to get away from him—you’ve quickly learned he’d push you through what he wants anyway. Feeling his arms around you would have been comforting in any other scenario but now you feel trapped, stuck at his mercy. He pushed your face against his chest to cry into, his grip on you tight. At least that’s what j-dramas have showed him to do.

“Just resign. And if you’re scared, I can talk to Yaga for you,” he cooed.

“I don’t want to quit. I can’t just abandon everything…” you said through sobs, but the seed of doubt has been planted into your head. You knew Satoru was trying to manipulate you, but wasn’t it true that you’re weak than most sorcerers? Statistically you were. These students of his were probably better than you already, when they were much younger than you and inexperienced. “Why do you even care?”

Satoru’s nails dug in your back, making you flinch in pain. You’ve suffered worse pain, but in this situation when you were forced to be sensitive and on guard the pain was bad anyway. “Because I care about you, even if you’re weak. It’s my job to protect weak yet you feel like the only weakling worth the trouble,” he stated calmly, even if his heart was anxious. He wasn’t one to speak about his feelings about things that aren’t trivial. “You don’t try to use me but spend time with me.”

You would have been saddened by how he felt about his role but it wasn’t about him today. “N-no, that’s not care,” you said through a shaken sniffle, your expression pained, “that’s control.”

He didn’t disagree with you. He just saw it in a different context; more dutiful one. “It is control. But sometimes control is necessary for people who are fools and don’t know what they’re doing, or to protect weak. It’s acceptable if I’m doing this for your safety—” “And what about my feelings?!” you interrupted, feeling hysterical at this point. How did your friend turn into your biggest nightmare in a span of few hours?

Satoru looked at you with a frown, as if you sounded ridiculous to him. “Well, it’s not like I ever make you unhappy. You laugh when you’re with me. You’re going to be fine,” he said way too nonchalantly.

But this wasn’t about friendship. It was about your main goal in your life he was forcing you away from. You felt fulfilled when helping people, and lack of freedom and sacrifice in that was bound to make you miserable. The most frustrating part was him not understanding your feelings at all—it was him seeing them as unreasonable and unrealistic.

“So what? You’ll just lock me up here?!” you wanted to sound angry but another sob overwhelmed you. “If I have to,” he said bluntly. With Satoru having distanced himself from his feelings of empathy to not get crushed by his duty, it was hard for him to sympathize with you. Duty was first, feelings later. He might have been softer with you but he was Gojo Satoru first and foremost.

“I refuse, I refuse, I refuse!” you grabbed onto his shirt as if to shake him off of that, in your mind, delusional state. “Me being a sorcerer didn’t matter to you until now!”

“Things have changed, Y/N. There’s been a raise in the number of curses,” he said in patronizing remarks. “Not to mention that you’re a woman.”

You looked at him in shock after you pushed your head back away from his chest, making you stop crying for a moment. Why was your gender suddenly being applied here? “What the hell, Gojo? You’re hating women now?”

He had an audacity to laugh at you in your face. “No, I don’t hate women. I’m just worried about you. It’s not just being a sorcerer that puts you at risk. It’s your own gender that makes you a prey,” he said with disappointment and stroked your cheek. You didn’t even know what to say, so he filled in a gap for you.

“Aren’t women naturally weaker than men? Sure, there are some strong female sorcerers. But males will always have the advantage due to their biology, won’t they? You can kick few men’s asses, but try defeating someone like Nanami…” Satoru didn’t even see his words as a hate thing. He didn’t hate women—he believed in imbalance existing between both genders. He noticed how vulnerable and abused they are within the world, and had this natural assumption that this means women need men’s protection. Especially you. Female non-sorcerers die everyday, women die from abuse everyday… but he wouldn’t let you die.

“Those are exceptions! Someone like Yuki would have defeated him if I can’t! So there’s no rule!” you said with frustration, still pushing at his chest. There’s women that men wouldn’t defeat and vice versa.

“But you aren’t her,” he pointed out. “You’re not a special grade sorcerer. There’s little of us. She can take care of herself, but you?”

You had enough of his twisted logic. There were risks within the world, but you will never be risk free. You take risk with every smallest decision, something so small was enough to cause a butterfly effect, but without a risk you don’t have any life experience; nor can you live without any risks. “That’s not how this works! You just play a savior card! Let me go, Gojo!”

“Then fight me off,” he said with a sudden coldness. “W-what?” you gasped out. There’s no way you can fight someone like him off, but this wouldn’t prove any of his point. Anyone wouldn’t be able to. “That’s not fair! Obviously if it’s you I can’t! And it’s not because I’m a woman.”

“Then I’ll use only a physical strength. No cursed energy. I won’t enhance my natural strength, and I will lower it to an average man’s level. You can’t use any cursed energy either, since it’d be illegal against a non-sorcerer anyway. So come on, try me.”

“You’re insane. This isn’t some game, Gojo!” you said mortified, not wanting to be put in a situation of a man acting like he’d force himself on you. He was suddenly pushing you to do most chilling things, all to act all right and as if he knew you better than you knew yourself. To teach you some messed up lesson.

“No, it’s not. I’m very serious.”

As you struggled against him in his hug, he kept talking to you about the topic, wanting to carve his truth into your mind. “I see women get harassed on the subway everyday. And do you know what happens? When they scare some creep away and go to the station, they get scolded for hurting these men. Only when I act as a witness, they take her seriously. That’s why you need a man. That’s why you need me, Y/N. This ain’t just about you being a defenseless sorcerer. It’s about you being a woman on every day basis where you can’t use jujutsu skill against non-sorcerer.”

You knew an average person wasn’t allowed to know about jujutsu sorcery and with that, you could have used only your physical strength to defend yourself outside of your work. Nonetheless, it didn’t justify this idiot to prove some foul point to his own advantage. “Just snap out—”

“Oh, I’m very lucid. That’s how I know,” he hissed and tackled you to the couch for the second time this day. “So try to remove me from yourself. I’m not using more strength than your neighbor would have. No cursed energy.”

You panicked. How could he put you through something so traumatic as having to fight a man just to prove some delusional point? You were scared of Satoru’s presence and you doubted you’d ever trust him again. Or rather, you shouldn’t have trusted him from the beginning. Why would someone who’s carrying entire world in his palm would be nothing but kind? You weren’t special in the end. He simply liked you more than others, or was just using for his loneliness.

“I-I’m not doing that. This is screwed up, Gojo. You’re scaring me. I don’t want to do this anymore,” your voice trembled and you were near crying point once again.

“Facing a man in a nasty situation would be scary too. I’m only showing you the truth,” he said seriously, going back to that predatory state.

You knew he won’t let you go until you try. However, you didn’t want to prove his point either. Being stuck in the limbo of what part you had to sacrifice panicked you further, and you were frozen under him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Come on,” he muttered. Realizing he wont let you go until your attempt happens, with all strength you could have mustered, you forced yourself to push at him to throw him off of the couch. To your panic, you couldn’t.

You believed that if you were facing any other man of the strength Satoru lowered himself to, you’d still be stronger than a stranger after years of training—even with some fear causing you to think less coherently. After all, you’ve faced curses even scarier than men. It’s just facing Satoru that was different—he was so terrifying in every way possible all the strength was disappearing under your distress. A day before, you could have only guessed how everyone else felt being his opponent, never expecting you’d be on the same side. He turned this nightmare into reality.

Still, the situation was an exception, not proving you’d be unable to defend yourself; however, you were still proving him right when you weren’t able to get him off of you.

“Again,” he said coldly. “N-no, just stop this!” you cried out. “I said again.”

The second attempt has failed you as well, making you start sobbing again. You were so frustrated you couldn’t fight him even in his lowest form, worried he’s going to hurt you, and even more afraid your life was over a solely because he has decided so.

“See? You’re weak. Both curses and men can kill you. You’re just a little girl in the eyes of the world,” Satoru said sternly; not hiding a twisted triumph in his blue eyes. His brows were furrowed, a wrinkled crease between them; his mouth pressed in a tight line—all as if he’s been disgusted by how much you fought all for nothing. “You need me.”

Satoru painted himself as a righteous hero you needed, but he only ended up shattering you. He took each part of what made you and painted it to be something useless and counterproductive; leaving you as nothing but a parasite needing to be taken care of. You doubted you’ve ever felt so abused and violated; especially by someone you’ve considered to be a friend at that.

When Satoru deemed his lesson as solidifying in your mind enough, he finally left your body. When you curled your body on the couch, stuck in your distressed headspace, he sat down next to you. He didn’t really want you to cry but if making you hurt was what makes you realize the truth, so be it. From his perspective it was a tough love you needed. He wasn’t harming you but protecting you.

“Come here,” he said after few minutes of letting you cry out the fear and take in the new reality. You didn’t budge, however. Gojo only sighed and gathered you into his arms, them under your body, not stopping when you tried to stay still on the furniture. He forced you onto his lap and held you tightly to his chest. At this point an exhaustion didn’t let you move away. It didn’t matter what you’d try when Satoru was always one step ahead without thinking hard—whether it was in knowing how to stop you and how to make something happen to debunk each of your words and make them look childish.

Satoru rocked your body gently, a motion that’d be soothing if not for his next words, “You’ll stay with me… unless you want me to knock you up so you wouldn’t have a chance to leave. But you’re not going to leave, are you?”

Your face was of utter horror. Your ears ringed, not being to comprehend what he said fully because of how unreal it sounded. It couldn’t be real he’d would have forced you to have a child just to trap you with him.

You were being shoved into submission just to avoid being ruined this way. Having a child would mean losing control entity; not to mention the potential of carrying another Gojo didn’t sound glorious to you.

Seeing you absolutely horrified, some guilt built up in him. He wouldn’t actually do this to you, or so he assumed at least for now, but you were making him desperate to figure out a nasty way for you to stay with him. You weren’t a replacement for a space Suguru had left vacant in his heart, but he still didn’t want to lose his object of affection.

“Right?” he repeated himself. You shook your head, afraid of mentioned possibility. “N-no, I’ll stay,” you immediately responded with desperation.

Satoru smiled widely and squeezed your waist teasingly, in illusion this entire time he’s been provoking you like a silly guy and nothing more, before he laughed as if it all was just a bad dream you woke up from. “Good. You don’t need to worry about anything. Just stay here and you’ll be fine. I’m your friend, remember? Or rather…”

He leaned close to your face, “I’m your boyfriend now, since we kissed,” he teased, as if the kiss wasn’t forced. Neither did you have a choice in starting a relationship.

But what other options did you have? He was Gojo Satoru. You were… well, you. Incomparable, defenseless and vulnerable in front of someone who could destroy entire humanity and only chooses not to. In front of most sorcerers.

All of this burden of knowledge suddenly thrown at you has worn you out. You nodded in fear of being pushed to agree so violently again—to his relief. He patted your head, a condescending praise. “Aren’t you a good girl for me now?”

“I think I like you a lot. Even more after you’ve finally realized your place,” he murmured against your jaw, his lips inching upwards and his white hair tickling your skin. Every thought that buzzed through his head was about how much he adored you; whether feelings were of love or fake idea of affection due to obsession and dependence… and anger at himself about letting you roam world so freely prior to today’s meeting. “A cute girlfriend for me… you should call me Satoru from now on. You did earn it.”

You were being kissed again, this time without you struggling against him. Your boyfriend grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest, wanting you to hear his heart race—it was easier for you to do this than for him to speak his vulnerabilities aloud.

[stevestevesstuff]

Drunken Confessions | Theodore Nott x reader

Pairing: Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: Feelings are confessed after seeing you flirt with another man.

Warnings: Characters are 18+!, Alcohol and drinking

Word Count: 3k

Please just imagine that the Weasley twins are still in school xD

The party in the Slytherin common room has been planned for months now and there was always something that got in the way of executing it. One time it was a big upcoming test; the other was the detention of a student who took part in planning this event. But today was finally the day. You could feel everyone’s excitement radiating from them, the way they walked and talked was an obvious sign of how happy they were that this party finally took place. It all started in the morning during breakfast where the only topic the other students were talking about was said party. Conversations on what to wear or with who to go filled the Great Hall. As the day carried on, the people walking through the ancient halls of Hogwarts only got more hyped for the upcoming event. We’ve obviously waited long enough for it to happen.

I was no exception. The moment I got up in the morning, all I could think about was that party. With a big smile blasted on my face, I started my morning, and I was convinced that nothing could ruin my good mood. School has been pretty stressful lately so being able to unwind and let loose for an evening was strongly needed. For everyone.

While walking towards our dorm after class, me and my friend Lorelai were talking about what to wear. She was insisting on wearing her tight black mini dress with high heels, though I tried to talk her out of it. The party will take place in the Slytherin common room. In the dungeons. It would be too cold.

But I was unsuccessful with trying to change her mind. In the end she even convinced me to wear my sparkly dark green mini dress to match her “aesthetic”. Fortunately, this dress had sleeves so I wouldn’t totally freeze to death. Plus, there would be plenty of alcohol so after thinking about it I doubted that the cold could even be a problem.

The moment we arrived at our dorm, Lori stormed through the door and headed towards her closet to set out her outfit. I just chuckled and started doing my make-up.

“Soooo….” I looked up from my mirror when I heard Lori talking and gave her a questioning look.

“Mr. Nott did not ask you to go to the party with him, did he?”

Lorelei’s question made me freeze for a moment. She knew about the crush I had on my best friend Theodore Nott. How could she not? This poor girl had to listen to at least one hundred rants from my side on how perfect and nice and gentle and handsome he is.

I shook my head. “No. In fact, he didn’t even talk about the party until I mentioned it once while studying. At first, he didn’t seem really interested in going.”

“Okay, weird. Theodore Nott and not being hyped about a party? Is he okay? Does he need to go to Madam Pomfrey?” Lorelei’s joke made me giggle a bit.

She was right. Theo and his other friends were one of the few people you would always see whenever there was alcohol. So not mentioning such a big event was not like Theo at all.

“I don’t know. I guess he was just stressed out from all the tests and homework we had over the past couple weeks. But anyways, I convinced him to go with us. Or more specifically pick us up today and escort us to the party.”

Lori just looked at me. There must have been a quite obvious look of disappointment on my face as I explained the situation, because all I got as a response was her signature “I pity you” look. I rolled my eyes at her and continued to concentrate on my make up.

But she was right. I was disappointed. Very much that is.

Since I can remember I had a crush on Theo. The moment I first saw him in the Great Hall during the Sorting Ceremony I knew that I would like him. More than just as friends. And the more we did together, the closer we got, my feeling for him just grew. As he became my best friend, I tried to hide my feelings. Or more like lock them away and keep them suppressed as best as possible. Most of the time it worked, but in some unfortunate moments of weakness, my love for him just seemed to burst out of me.

Like that one evening we spent together on the astronomy tour. We were talking about everything and nothing, just enjoying each other’s company. Theo somehow noticed that I was cold and without hesitating, he gave me his sweater. In this moment, I couldn’t hide the blush that was creeping up my face and unfortunately, I also started to stutter. I couldn’t form any coherent sentences anymore and the worst part about this was that Theo noticed immediately and started teasing me, asking if I had a crush on him.

Just thinking about this evening was making me blush again. This stupid crush. I wish I could just get over it.

Time seemed to fly by and neither of us took notice, the only thing reminding us of how late it actually was, was a sudden knock on our door. Lorelei jumped up from the floor, on which she was doing her hair, to open.

“Babes! It’s your boyfriend!”

I rolled my eyes at her comment but smiled slightly. Oh, how I’d love to be able to call him that.

“I hope I do not intrude but it’s getting late ladies. The party is starting in 15 minutes” A small smirk crept on his lips as his eyes found mine.

Merlin, this smirk. It made me weak in the knees. Fortunately for me, I was still seated on the floor.

I took a moment to look at Theo properly. His hair was still slightly wet from an apparent shower he took before getting ready. Damp curls falling on his forehead, the rest of it looking kind of messy. But in a good way. He also chose to wear his black button-up with his sleeves rolled up. (Which made me go crazy but for obvious reasons can’t tell him) and black dress pants. Everything about this man was perfect and the fact that he somehow managed to look even more handsome this evening made my mind wander to places it definitely shouldn’t.

Before my brain got out of control, I nodded and got up from the floor to walk towards him.

“You know? Beauty takes time but I think we’re done here, right Lori?” I said as I gave Theo a small wink and Lorelei a confirming look. She just nodded, but then started running frantically through our dorm, searching for something.

Me and Theo just watched as she literally turned her whole closet upside down until she had found what she was looking for. Her matching black purse.

“Ready! Let’s go!”

A small chuckle escaped my lips as Lori pushed past me and Theo, running out into the hallway. I gave Theo a quick nudge to his side and off we were.

While walking towards the Slytherin common room, Lorelei walking in front of us, Theo leaned in towards me.

“You look breathtaking, Bella.”

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, his cologne seeping through my senses and I turned away, trying to hide the immense blush that started spreading on my face. The effect this man had on me was unbelievable.

Theo just chuckled lightly, seemingly proud about what he had achieved and continued to lead me and my friend towards the location of the party.

Even before arriving, loud music and laughter could be heard. The excitement was rushing through my body, and I couldn’t wait to dance, drink and just let loose.

The moment the three of us entered the Slytherin common room, Lori was pulled away by a group of Ravenclaws standing by the entrance, so me and Theo continued to head towards the main area.

The music got louder, and the air got thicker and hotter. Even though the party only started around 10 minutes ago, it was in full swing. Some people were standing near two tables which acted as a makeshift bar, others were dancing to the music and some students were just socializing with others from different houses. I took a deep breath in, smelling the alcohol and sweat lingering in the air. The fear of being too cold in my mini dress immediately left my mind as I felt the heat of at least 50 people ingulfing me.

I turned around to look at Theo, but he wasn’t there anymore. Somehow, this man always managed to disappear without a trace. A small frown spread across my face at the absence of my best friend. Was he serious right now? He just left me standing there? Alone? I shook my head, trying to get any negative thoughts out of my brain and made my way over to the bar, intending to get either some shots of fire whiskey or gin.

As I served myself one or two glasses of alcohol, I felt a presence behind me. Before I could turn around to acknowledge said person, I felt a hand on my shoulder. My hopes of it being Theo were immediately crushed as I turned around and was met with a big smile belonging to Fred Weasley.

“Hello gorgeous.” He gave me a smooth wink.

“All by yourself? While you look like that? I consider this a crime.” I chuckled at his playful and faked offended tone.

I chuckled awkwardly, not knowing how to respond. But then I thought to myself, why not? I’m allowed to have a little bit of fun. Fred is nice, he wouldn’t do anything I wouldn’t want, so I decided to join in on the flirting.

“Well, hello to you too Weasley. You don’t look too bad yourself.” I jokingly flirted back, obviously checking him out while downing my first glass of fire whiskey.

“Are you ready for the best night of your life, darling?”

“Of course, who do you think I am?” Fred smirked at my answer, motioning me to drink my second glass of alcohol I held in my hand. I followed his command, grimacing while I felt the cool liquid burn down my throat, earning a laugh from the guy in front of me.

The night continued and I wandered through the common room, catching up with people I haven’t talked to in a while, though I always found myself back at Freds side as his company and lightheaded personality drew me in.

I wasn’t really interested in him, though I really enjoyed the playful flirting and the compliments we threw at each other throughout the night. It made me forget how Theo had just abandoned me without saying anything. The thought alone made my heart ache.

As I downed my eighth or ninth drink (I couldn’t really think straight anymore, let alone count), I found myself surrounded by a group of Gryffindors, including Harry, Hermoine, Ron, Neville and the Weasley twins. We laughed, told jokes and gossiped. I had the time of my life.

Suddenly, Fred took my hand and pulled me towards the dance floor.

“I love this song! Come. Dance with me gorgeous!”

I felt his hands holding my waist, swaying me to the sound of the music. I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on the melody and beat of the song, hoping I was looking at least a bit presentable while dancing. Fred leaned in closer, seemingly trying to get more physical contact with me.

But before I could reciprocate his actions, someone pulled me away from my dance partner. The alcohol in my system was numbing my senses so before I even realized that I was no longer dancing with Fred, I was being pulled away from the party. My head was spinning and for the first few seconds, I couldn’t even tell who was walking in front of me with my wrist in their hand. I just awkwardly stumbled after the guy who frantically shook his head and swore under his breath.

“Cazzo! What were you thinking?”

I’d recognize this voice anywhere and anytime. Theo.

I opened my mouth to say something, though no words came out. Finally, we stopped, and Theo turned around to look at me, his grip still firm on my wrist.

“What the fuck were you thinking? Weasley? Of all people? You decided to flirt and dance with a Weasley?” The words rolled off Theo’s tongue like venom. He was mad. No. Infuriated.

“I….”

“No! I don’t want any excuses. Of all the people present at this party you chose to not only flirt and dance with another boy, but also, this boy was a Weasley.”

I have never seen Theo this mad, and my mind couldn’t comprehend why.

“What’s the matter with you? Am I not allowed to have some fun? Plus, I’m very capable of deciding with whom I flirt with. That’s my decision to make. Not yours.”

Theo swallowed hard, probably trying to contain himself from shouting. I could feel the tension radiating off him.

He leaned in, coming dangerously close to my face, still holding my wrist.

“Bella don’t fight me on this. You know very well why I have a problem with this situation.”

He was so close; I could feel his breath on my face and smell his cologne. A blush crept onto my face at the closeness of his body. God. Why was he so hot?

I looked at him, trying to stand my ground.

“Unfortunately, no. I do not know why you have such a big problem with me flirting with Fred. Plus, what else was I supposed to do? Lori was having fun with her friends, and you were nowhere to be found. You left me standing there. Alone. So, I found myself someone to spend the evening with.”

Theo suddenly let go of my hand, putting some distance between us. He raised his hands, brushing them through his already messy hair, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“By Merlin….” The clear frustration in his voice made it obvious that he had enough of this conversation.

“Do you like him?” Theo suddenly asked.

“What?”

“Do you like him?” This time, his voice was firmer, demanding an answer.

I looked at him, my eyes meeting his and for a moment, I could see something behind his eyes that I had never seen before. Desperation, mixed with a little bit of hope.

“I…no. I don’t like him like that.”

“Then why would you spend the whole evening flirting with him?”

“Because I wanted to, okay? You are not my boyfriend, you can’t dec- “

Before I could even finish my sentence, Theo closed the distance between us, reaching up with his hands to cup my cheeks. This action lets a small yelp escape my lips.

“Wha- “

My head was spinning, and I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or Theo’s closeness. I was sure that if his body wasn’t pressed so tightly to mine, I would have sunk to the ground with how weak my knees were at that moment. His hands gently caressed my cheeks, his right thumb slowly stroking it. The way he looked at me with desperation, hope and…longing was too much for me. I even stopped breathing for a second. I noticed Theo’s eyes wandering down towards my lips where they lingered for a second before they found my eyes again.

“What…what if I want to be just that?” Theo asked quietly while seemingly staring into my soul.

“What do you mean?”

“What if I want to be your boyfriend?”

The moment these words left Theos lips, my breath hitched, and my mind went blank. What did he just say? My head started spinning even more and I felt a blush rise on my face.

“I like you, cara mia. I’ve always liked you, but I was too much of a fool to tell you. I was scared of ruining our friendship but seeing you today, flirting with another man, that was too much for me. I couldn’t handle you being in the arms of anyone but me.” These words left his lips in a tone so gentle, I would have never believed they came from Theo if I wasn’t experiencing it first handed.

“I….”

“You don’t have to say anything. You probably won’t even remember what I’m telling you right now in the morning. I guess I won’t either. But I needed to get this out of me. I needed you to know how I felt about you.”

Suddenly, I felt a rush of confidence wandering through my body. I raised my hands to mirror Theos previous actions, cupped his cheeks and pulled his face towards mine. Our lips met and I felt like I could explode. The feeling of his lips was better than I could have ever imagined. They were soft and the slight taste of alcohol and cigarettes on them made this kiss so much more intoxicating.

His hands left my cheeks, wandering down my body until they settled on my waist, pulling me even closer into him. The kiss got more and more messy, teeth were clashing, and lips were bitten.

After what felt like an eternity, I had to catch my breath. As I pulled away, my hands still caressing his cheeks and his hands on my waist, a small smile spread across my lips as I tried to breath properly. As I looked up at Theo, the biggest smile I had ever seen on him was painted on his face.

“I love you, amore.” He said, still trying to catch his breath.

“I love you too, darling.”

His hands left my waist, removing mine from his cheeks and gently intertwining our fingers. He gently pulled me behind me, walking in the direction of his dorm.

“So, I guess it’s official now, Bella. No more flirting with Weasley. Or any other man for that matter.” His joke only earned a small laugh from me, already imagining what might happen in his dorm.

[rubyvhs]

show me love [ dean w. ]

SUMMARY . you and dean’s friendship (of both platonic and sexual nature) falls apart when his father goes missing TAGS . 0.7k words, cliffhanger, all texting, heavy angst LAILA’S NOTES . y’all I’d apologize but this is the first thing i’ve written in years so if anything we should be happy.

February 2003

Dean: Hey, sweetheart.

Still in Georgia?

You: Yeah, why? Are you thinking of passing by?

Dean: Something like that. 

I’ll be there in two days, maybe. 

You: That sounds great, D. Text me when you’re here.

+

August 2003

Dean: Look outside. 

You: You’re a real piece of work, you know that? 

Rocks at my windows was sexy a century ago.

Dean: Still worked though, didn’t it?

You: Yeah, asshole, I’m awake at three in the morning.

Dean: Does that mean you’re not gonna open the door?

You: Fuck you. I’m getting dressed.

Dean: No point, gonna take it all off anyway.

+

You: You left suddenly, didn’t know I was a one night stand, asshole.

Dean: Sorry, sweetheart, Sam called and I didn’t wanna wake you up. We can grab something to eat tonight, how’s that?

You: Is that a promise you actually plan on keeping?

Dean: Swear on my life.

You: I’ve seen it, ain't much to swear by.

Dean: Ouch.

You: Miss you, pick me up at seven.

Dean: See ya then, baby.

+

June 2005

Dean: Hey

You: Hi, D. Been a while.

Dean: Yeah, I’m sorry

You: It’s okay, I never expect much from us anyway. What’s up?

Dean: Do you think I’m a bad person?

You: No. Why would you say that?

Dean: I’m gonna ask Sam to come back, I can’t find dad.

You: Why didn’t you tell me? And it doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. I mean, I would advise against it, Sam deserves a good life and you know that, but the fact that you’re asking before doing it says everything I need to know.

Dean: What does it say?

You: That you have a pure heart, D. Don’t ever doubt it, okay? 

But also incase you were actually thinking of it, please don’t go get Sam. He’s out, he’s finally out of the life, Dean.

I text him every week and he’s happy and in love, don’t do it.

Dean: I’m sorry.

You: Answer the phone.

Dean answer me.

Stop ignoring my calls

You suck

You: You’re still not a bad person.

+

August 2005

You: I will never forgive you.

Ever.

Dean: I didn’t know you’d be here.

You: Fuck you. You disappeared on me for months and stop answering my calls you fucking asshole and then I try talking to you and you walk away in front of everyone.

Do you understand how fucking humiliating that was for me? My sister’s asking if I’m okay, that’s how bad it is.

Dean: I’m sorry.

You: You’ve never once meant that, Dean. 

Not fucking once.

You’re a dick.

And one day, you’re the one who’s gonna regret it, not me.

+

September 2005

Dean: Hunted a Djinn today.

Wanna know what my perfect life looked like? 

You: Oh now you wanna talk?

Real nice of you.

Dean: You know what it was

You: And yet I don’t care

Don’t text me again

Dean: You would’ve blocked me if you meant it.

It was you, sweetheart.

You: Good night, Dean. 

Dean: Night.

+

Sam: Hey, darling.

You: Sam!!!!!!!

I’ve missed you endlessly 

Literally haven’t seen you in ages

Sam: Yeah, sorry about that.

Dean told me that he met you at the gathering.

You: Yeah why weren’t you there?

Sam: Just didn’t feel like it.

But I do miss seeing you, send me your location?

You: Virginia, what about you?

Sam: Close. About a day out.

You: You don’t have to, we can meet up when we’re closer.

Sam: Ah, so you don’t wanna see me?

You: No no no I do, just don’t bring Dean.

Please, Sammy.

Sam: Sorry, sweetheart but if I drive him around then I get to go wherever he does.

You: Dean?

Sam: Yeah, Sam’s in the bathroom. We’re on our way.

You: Don’t text me.

Sam: Heard that threat before.

Sam: Hey, sorry, I didn’t know he would do that.

You: I’m wrapping up my hunt, won’t be in Virginia when you get here.

Sam: No no, please.

You: Sorry.

+

January 2006

Sam: Hey.

You: Hi.

Sam: Dean’s dying.

You: What are you talking about?

Sam, answer the phone.

Sam the last thing I told him is to not talk to me please answer the phone

Sam: We’re at Bobby’s.

You: I’m on my way.

[bahngnxxx]

୧ ‧₊🎧 No turning back once we’re connected. 

Dentist bangchan x !f!paitent 

author's note: I was at the dentist and I was sleepy asf, but then this fineass doctor came in and absolutely PENATRATED my mouth with his hands and that got me thinking about bangchan, since earlier i was watching thirst traps before entering the appointment lol. Im ovulating so i jus wanna get straight to the smut... pls spare me, this is my first fic. Ill write better ones, not just pure smut. TmT Anygays, enjoy!! 

word count: 5.3k 

warnings: (NOT PROOF RED) p in v (unprotected, NAURRR) vaginal creampie, multiple orgasms, fem overstimulation, nipple pinching/biting, biting overall, vaginal fingering, eating out (both fxm), dirty talk, slight sadism, spanking, squirting, possible impregnation, dry humping, a bit of piss, clitplay.. Too lazy to list anymore. Lmk if sumn catches your eye, but overall this is just a really filthy one.🤷‍♀️ 

A cold, chilling woosh of air hits you, the automatic doors swinging open, the gentle cool breeze of the AC brushing against your skin, causing a slight grow of goosebumps against you. You clocked in at the entrance for your first dentist appointment after 3 months of being abroad, so the difference between the humid air of palm springs and the cool contrasting air of Canada really didn’t sit well with you. You were still jetlagged too, so maybe you could shut your eyes during your appointment, I don’t think the doctor would mind. You don’t think you could keep your eyes open for any longer, anyways. 

You gently sat down on a coach in the distance. You had booked an appointment down near the south, suburb corner of town. The places lounge was small, crowded, but managed to still have a nice cozy essence to it, a tv table at front, small beige couches stacked all around, plants and trees hanging off from the wooden plated walls and light spruce floors, the scent of minty Colgate mixed with a fresh smell of coffee filling the lounge. You nuzzled into the pale couch, scrolling away on your phone to some k-pop thirst traps on your free time, adjusting the bra strap that hung out of your off shouldered white sweater, clinging around your curves slightly, your body slumped down lazily, legs spread out shamelessly, until a doctor had called out for you, startling you. You stood up straight, brushing off yourself before bowing down apologetically, following the lady down a long hall, until you had arrived to the room.  

As usual, the room was white like an asylum, a long chair centered in the middle of the chaos, a large light gazing over it as well as a tv attached to the ceiling. There was a crack of golden sunlight peeking through the room, giving a nice crisp color to it. You laid down onto the seat as the doctor told you to, and did the average things like plucking and tapping at your teeth with a bunch of pointy gadgets, blah blah, the usual. She then nodded and went outside the room, assumingly calling your new doctor. 

Ever since you had switched to the southern side of town, and doing things, there seemed to be a lot of Koreans working in the area, not that you were complaining, and you had a suspicion for your new doctor. He went by Chris, or Christopher, but you did a little digging to catch a glimpse of the name ‘Bang Chan’ and that unleashed a fantasy in you, so you’d hope that you would get a nice Korean doctor. You were single and in your mid-twenties anyways, it’s time you’d find a partner.  

You heard some shuffling in the halls, and they approached closer before a black heeled shoe entered the room, then another, and then he popped into the room. A man who looked a year or two older then you, his hair a crisp black and middle parted, going down to his neck, slightly shaggy and curly, his eyes wide and kind, but also so seducing in a way, his nose larger than usual and a diamond piercing on one side, as well as small hoops in his ears and a chain around his thick slender neck, and oh my gosh, he had his coat off, and had this BODY CLENCHING black shirt on, revealing the massive tits and curved abs he had. His lips were large and plump, nothing like you’ve seen before, his tongue slightly out as his eyes slowly crept their way towards your gaze, his mouth crinkling into a jaw dropping smile, dimples forming on both sides of his cheeks, his aegyo Sal puffing up and his eyes wrinkling on the sides as he did. His eyes formed to small crescents as he smiled, a kind twinkle in them. HOLY FUCK.  

Your jaw was dropped. You sat there on the long chair, your body hunched over as you stared at him with wide eyes, you looked like an idiot, honestly. He let out a breathless chuckle as he walked over to you, spinning the scaler perfectly in between his gloved, veiny hands. “So how’ya doing today?”  

He spoke in a deep, but kind voice, with a rich Australian accent. You let out a stuttered, shy response as he pumped the seat downwards until you were lying flat, his face towering over yours, only his eyes visible now, the mask covering the rest. “U-uh yeah, I’m good.. How about you..?” 

 He smiled back down at you, his chest heaving over your head as he moved the strands of messy hair off of your face, sending heat through your abdomen through your stomach. It felt like there were butterflies—no, birds flying in your stomach. You bit on your lower lip, as he set a gentle thumb on your chin. “Hmm, pretty good, thanks. How ‘bout you open wide for me, yeah?” 

 and you almost immediately followed his command, widening your jaw, a line of spit against your tongue and tooth. Two of his fingers entered your jaw, coated in your spit as he pressed down on your tongue lightly. You were ovulating too, so this didn’t make it any better at all. You held back a whimper, fighting demons against yourself. You fidgeted with your hands below your lap, curling your feet upwards, and he could sense your nervousness, letting out small breathy laughs. “Good girl, relax. I’m not gonna eat’chya.”  

and again, immediately, your body loosened--almost a little too much—going limp and melting under his words. There was a calm jazz playing over the radio, the crisp golden sunlight hitting his blazing eyes, and ever so lightly brushing against his black, curled locks.  

All through his work, he didn’t seem to be paying attention to your mouth, not at all, honestly. He just kept staring into your eyes, his eyes crinkled up ever so slightly, meaning that he must still have a smile under his face. He just wouldn’t stop smiling, it staying, his intense gaze remaining on you as he tapped on each of your teeth, his fingers tracing around your mouth, exploring it. His eyes just got heavier and heavier on you, narrowing slightly down subtly before he stood up and grabbed those mini mirror things up from a shelf, unwrapping it from its shell and discarding of the flimsy plastic before he shone that damn light from above onto you, blinding you. You squinted at the light before looking back at him. He provided some sort of shadow from the light, so you relied on staring at him back, since you didn't really have any other choice.  

The wind outside started to densen up, the once sunny outside sending a dark shadow through the room, the dim lamp now being your only support of light. You hated the light at first, but now you were holding onto your dear life with it. You don’t think you could survive farther then 5 more minutes, or you would go wild. You clenched your thighs shut tight, which he immediately and shamelessly switched his attention to. His eyes narrowed further at your legs, his seducing gaze running up and down them. Theres no way that your dentist is doing this. No way hes checking you out, but no matter how much you denied it, he totally was. He looked back up at you, now only one of his eyes crinkled, his eyebrow cocked up. “Something bothering you?” 

 he spoke in a low, more breathy tone now, taking his hands out of your mouth and sliding his gloves off, his veiny hands now clear to you. You breathe caught in your throat as you let out a shakey response.  

“You.” you whispered; you don’t know why you said that. You slapped a hand over your mouth, your eyes slightly wide, cheeks turning red, and almost immediately, Chan smiled deviously, removing his mask and closing the door behind him, sitting back on the wheelie chair, spinning back to you, his hands now levitating over your chest. “Hm? What was that? Couldn’t quite hear you.”  

You let out a hitched breath, your eyes fluttering shut halfway as your back arched towards his hands until you were now sitting up, lodged up against the chair in a restrained position, both his veiny slender forearms propped up in the crevasses of your waist. “Gettin’ comfy, hm? If you want it, say it.”  

“P-please Bang Chan.”  

he let out that deep, incredibly sexy chuckle, smooth as butter, and almost instantly did your panties fill with a gush of arousal. With that, his final strings of restraint tore apart, his mouth drifting over to yours, his lips lush against your thirsted tongue. He fought a rough battle with your mouth, his tongue darting delving deeper into you, exploring every inch of your wet throat, his fingers now grazing over and under your thick sweater, pulling your shirt up with a swipe as he unclipped your bra with one veiny hand, still working at your mouth. His rough thumbs drifting over your plump bottom lip, extending your jaw for deeper access. His lips parted away from yours, his breath growly and panting before he looked up at you with that damned, deep dimpled grin, his mouth leaving a wet trail down your chin and neck, to your collarbone and straight to the cleavage of your breasts, the tips of his fingers slowly making its way to your tits, curling around the velvety, thick material.  

You let out a high-pitched whine—near a yelp as you bucked your breasts up toward his hands, another quick gush of arousal filling your already soaked panties. “F-fuck Chris--.. what if.. We get caught...?” 

 he looked up at you, his mouth still latched at you like a leech, with wide eyes, almost innocent looking despite the situation, but quickly they narrowed to those same teasing eyes as he hooked off you, a string of spit on his tongue that dribbled down the cleavage of your boobs. He silently brought a finger to his mouth, shushing you before he slowly led his soft puckered mouth to your tit, his breathe hot against your hardened, perked up brown patch. He agonizingly brought his tongue around it, his lips curling around the tip of it as he suckled on your soft breast. You couldn’t help but let out small squeals as he licked and slurped at you, his free hand sliding down the side of your waist and to your small pretty jeaned up pussy, clenching the fat top layer before a finger slid slick into your folds, the outline of your throbbing clit palpable through the thick fabric. Your hips buckled towards his fingers in a desperate attempt for some sort of friction, his slender calloused hands curling up into your aching core through the fabric, his plump lips latching off your nipples with a soft moan. He soothed the aching sensation on your nips with a few gentle kisses as he pulled off your shirt, you were bare and had those porn star like tits. Not too big, but perky and rounded for sure. He led his hungered gaze over them. “So pretty.”  

he breathed out. The soon admiring gaze snapped back to in between your legs, you were clamping them shut against his hands, needily grinding and humping against him. He popped his hand from between your heat and with one swift motion, picked you up from the chair and SAT in it HIMSELF. You were about to scoff before he pulled you onto his lap, in the type of position where your perfect little ass was laid above his muscular thighs, your legs straddling him from both sides, his dick standing straight up right before your camel toed pussy, your cheeks tinting a bright rosey red. “Move those hips pretty girl. Need your clit rubbing ‘gainst me, yeah?”  

you are NOT his strongest solider because holy shit, the way this man has spells over you.. You start to transfer your heavy hips atop his and grinding downwards to his cock, but he lets out a ‘tch’ and holds your love handles to stop you from moving. “This won’t do. Need you in those pretty pink panties.” 

 now how the hell did he know what color it was? Whatever, and with a huff you start to unzip those tight jeans from off your legs until your pants were on the floor. His own slacks met yours on the floor in a crumpled mess, and God was it huge, full of girth and length, it was dying to be released from the boxers, like a huge water bottle in his garments.  

You were so turned on, you knew exactly the feeling, you needed him now. You were a hot mess, you wanted and needed him so quickly and without much thought, you sat back on his lap, trying to put your embarrassment aside, you sat down facing him, with your legs in the air on either side of the chair, Chan was surprised and felt so delightful your weight on his erection, he didn’t think you were going to position yourself like that but you left him absolutely charmed. You were dealing with the bulge between his pants pressing against your pussy. He was so hard, you could feel it if only through the slightly thick, rough cotton of his black garments. Just the thought of seeing his cock made your skin bristle with excitement. And suddenly, a wave of confidence hit you, a little too strong like a slap in the face, and now you were gliding your flaps perfectly through his shaft, apparent through boxers. You could feel the way the hard girth pulsated and pushed into your wet entrance even through the fabric, the mix of his precum in his shorts and your slick making it intoxicating and barely bare able. As the grinding of yours against him got more intense, small pants left his parted lips, hips bucking up often with every push of your pussy down against him.  

Chan moaned, letting out soft, melodic “A-aah, mmnh..” and then he raised his gaze, staring into your eyes, causing you to shiver at his lustful stare. “Fuck, look at you moving for me like that, keep doing what ‘your doing, just like that.. So good, love.” he licked his lips, leveling his face with yours, talking to you in such a sultry tone that it made your cheeks hot. You were so pathetically horny and starved that you were enjoying to the fullest-- bouncing on Chan’s cock under the hard cotton, pressing all over your pussy, your labia, moving them nimbly that it made you blur your vision.  

“God yeah-- you’re doing so good, beautiful.” His voice aroused you more and more bringing you so close to your orgasm, you were so concentrated in the sensation of your movements on his cock, you couldn’t stop, you moved your hips and Chan helped you with his hands squeezing your waist, guiding your every hump; you felt so hot and trapped, so desperate to get your clothes off but you didn’t want to stop, you weren’t going to stop until you were tired, it was as if you had no choice but to climax right now, just like this, and under his gaze it was physically impossible, flushed and sweaty, eager, watching you with keen, firey eyes. Chan was sighing and straining to make you feel good at the same time you were making him feel that effect on him, squeezing his cock so hard, expelling precum and not so far from his ejaculation. 

 Chris bit his lower lip and caught your mouth again, touching your restless and desperate body, he was about to cum. You were starting to get tired but it was a tiredness so inexplicably pleasurable, your chest was burning from the constant strong heartbeat. You were at your limit and you were doing almost nothing, but both of you were a mess of heaving breaths, Chan didn’t want to change anything about you either at that moment, he just squeezed you tightly enjoying every movement until he cum inside his underwear, in a gasp, throwing his head back, feeling one pressure release pleasantly but another coming so abruptly and quickly not wanting to finish yet with you. You held onto his shoulders tightly, pressed your legs into his body, Chan knew you were close so he encouraged you, with a kiss on your mouth half open and words that warmed even your ears. “Go on, cum, princess, let yourself go… Cum for me.” 

You gasped in despair and a little high-pitched moan, you cum all over your panties, leaving you flushed, breathless and with your pussy sticky. Seconds later you wanted to catch your breath, you still felt immobile before his big hands squeezing your body, you were at levels of agitation you didn’t think you’d reach in the near future with another guy. He was so the one, no matter a side chick from a new dentist you just met, you’d be booking appointments weekly with the daily pathetic excuse of tooth aches. That's one way to go.  

One orgasm down, so many more to go, left a sloppy panting mess atop him, he gently carries you until you're sitting at the side of the chair, on the edge, legs spread wide, head in a daze, not a care in your eyes until the sensation of his cold hands hits your underwear – a loss of warmth but a new sensation. Only when you look down is when you catch the concentrated man on his knees for you, peeling off your pink panties and licking the slick off of it so none went to waste, letting out an approving hum.  

“You taste so fucking good.” 

Chan said it, in such a thick voice so lost in the image of your pussy. You were a hot trembling mess, letting out a shuddered moan as you felt his warm, full lips on the skin of your plump mons pubis, giving you kisses and leaving little hickeys down his way until his mouth took your clit, making you squeal; you were beginning to relax and let yourself be carried away by the tingling of the tip of his index finger caressing your soft, moist vulva, playing with your wetness, until two of his fingers teased your entrance until he inserted his fingers, while his mouth never let go of your sensitive spot, licking and sucking it gently, causing you pleasure and the beginning of trembling in your legs. 

Chan fucked you gently and deeply for a few moments, teasing you and reaching sweet places inside your tight pussy, but he withdrew his fingers from you, positioned both his hands on your thighs, squeezing them gently and began to move his mouth all the way down your vulva, licking the right places, sucking delightfully on your labia and filling himself with you, from his chin to his nose, so focused working on you. You felt so hot, and he looked so good eating you out while you were a panting mess, arching your back and being pleasured. Your slick dripped its way down his chin, covering his faces with your whipped up, once clear but now creamy and sweet juices. “Fuck," He groaned out, lapping up and sucking at your clit, then going back down to collect your juices.  

You were close, again, your hips stuttering against his plump lips as he alternated from eating your pussy to sucking at your clit. He could feel the way your hips bucked up, the way your needy pussy clenched around his tongue, before with one last suck of your vagina, he slid up and started going savage onto your clit, opening his mouth with a wide grin, flicking his tongue against you as he plunged two fingers, slick with spit inside of your already seeping pussy, thrusting in and out and curling his fingers up in a way that was sure to drive you over the edge, and so it did, a mix of juices and release spewing all over his fingers, up to the muscles of his forearms, squealing out his name in a desperate moan.

 “Chris- chrischris—c-christopher!! Cumming!!” 

He stared at you in awe and immense pleasure, cock twitching in his boxers as he witnessed your climax, shaking and trembling, heartbeat pounding, sweat dripping, hot and messy flushed face, hips bucking up so high he could have sworn he was seeing stars, and before you knew it the sound of fabric sliding down filled your sensitive, worn-out ears, and a deep sensation hit your overstimulated pussy. 

Within seconds, as you came down from your haze, you were immediately sent back to that trance but so much deeper as his girthed cock unmercifully pounded its way deep into your pussy, kissing your cervix with every deep thrust. His hips slam against yours as he slides back in, you're so warm and wet around him that he's losing his mind. He's like a rabbit in heat as he moves his hips, harder and harder, his balls hitting your ass and the sounds that leaves your lips encourages him more. One minute you have your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him deeper and the next your legs are against your chest as Chan's large hands are on the back of your thighs as he slams his hips against yours again. He's hypnotized. Your pussy sucking in dick so well, and you're taking it like a good girl too. Tears falling from your eyes and words leave your lips but he doesn't really understand what you're saying. The word daddy leaves your lips, and you chant it over and over.  

You felt so full, his dick filling you up so nicely and you honestly believe that you could cum just like this. And the way the tip of his head hits your sweet spot it makes you feel on cloud nine. Thrusting into you with a sharp hit of his hips, and you internally cringe at yourself for hiccupping at the force. “G-god-!!” is all you manage to say as he continues slamming his hips into you at a painfully slow pace, looking you dead in the eye as you crumble beneath his intense gaze. 

gripping at his biceps and biting your lip as an attempt to keep your moans in, but the little whimpers and whines end up spilling out anyway. You can feel Chan's cock twitch inside you every time you say yes for him, especially with the way your walls are throbbing around his length as he groans the words “good girl” in the midst of it all. 

“So so good for me,” he continues, grinding his hips in a way that makes his pelvis graze your clit rhythmically, and you’re sure you’re seeing stars once his hand finds your neck, just resting it there to get your attention. “W-want you to fill me up so bad,” you whimper, and he lets a groan out right after you… one that makes your stomach flutter with emotions given how beautiful it sounded. 

“Channie--” you blabber out pathetically, your own mouth filling with saliva at how amazing he’s making you feel right now. “P-please-!!” you cry out, and it’s a weak cry. He finally lets his lips find yours in a needy kiss, and a string of spit keeps y’all together as he breaks away to let out a moan of his own, but you’re pulling him back into you, wanting him to be as close as possible to you in this moment.  

“Feels so fucking good inside you, sooo fucking good,” he grunts, and you know he’s almost close just from the way his eyebrows are screwing into adorable little crinkles, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier by the second. 

“F-fuck-” you mewl against his lips, feeling the knot in your own stomach tighten as his cock hit mesmerizing places inside you. He keeps his hand snug around your neck while looking into your eyes, and his hips can’t bare to piston into your cunt any longer once your walls clench around him, making him feel dizzy in the head. At that point, hes too far in to care about anything, gripping your ass cheek with an intense need as his hands lands a hard slap against it, leaving a red stain of his handprint on your cheek, the stinging pain of his hands and soothing rubs making you go insane.

With each 3-4 hard thrusts, he adds in a hard WACK, marking both cheeks with a rosey red that looked like it was blushing, and soon enough he was lifting one leg straight up like a candle, toes curled as he fucked deep into you, with a new refreshment that was only yours to claim, luckily enough. He fucked into you with a matched fervor that can only be described as wild, and with that, chan finally lets himself go, barely getting any extra thrusts in before painting your walls with his hot release, groaning shamelessly like a porn star. “Oh my God,” he grunts with a strained voice, using his last bit of strength to prevent himself from collapsing on top of you given how spent he is now. He pops out of you soon enough, after having his soft cock warmed up by your wet walls, his cum seeping out of your used pussy, but his cock doesn’t look... normal. Its soft yet still kind of up, like maybe his balls were too big and propping it up? No, it was infact still semi-hard, his eyes meeting yours with a mutual agreement, a challenge, as if asking to help him out, and so you did, backing up into the marbled countertops containing of those small sinks and that random hole filled with garbage.  

His hand slides to the back of your neck, firm but gentle, and pulls you closer. “Good girl,” he praises, voice laced with an almost indistinguishable amount of contempt, and it has you reeling. You lick a bit along his tip, slowly and gently kissing along the sensitive skin, and you can already feel it start to rise along your lips. His fingers weave through your hair with a slow sigh. You press another kiss to the side of his cock, soft at first, as if tasting the moment before plunging in. His body shudders. The saltiness lingers on your tongue as you part your lips wider, slowly taking him into your mouth. “Fuck,” he breathes, the word barely audible, more an exhale than speech.  

His hand slightly tightens in your hair, not pulling, just holding, grounding himself. You hollow your cheeks, sliding further forward, and the groan that rumbles in his chest sends a thrill through you. The weight of him is heavy on your tongue, and you let yourself sink into a languid pace, drawing him in, inch by inch, savoring the way his body reacts. His hips jerk, just a little, involuntarily, and you can’t help the slight moan that leaves your throat. The sound and vibration seem to undo him.  

“You’re so fucking good at this,” Chan grunts, his voice rough around the edges, raw with need. His hand cups the back of your head, guiding you—not forcing, but encouraging—as you take him deeper, working with a mix of tongue, lips, and a shit ton of spit. 

You glance up, catching his gaze. A carnal glint is in his stare, and he smiles. Fuck. The sight of him nearly takes your breath away. His jaw falls slack, his lips part, and his eyes lock on you—heavy-lidded and burning with something primal. The tension in his thighs grow as you continue, a gradual acceleration in the way you take him in. The soft, wet sounds fill the air, mingling with his labored breaths and low groans. His thumb brushes your cheek, a ticklish touch that feels oddly tender amidst the heat. “Just like that,” Chan murmurs, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t stop. You’re—perfect.” You give an hum, letting it thrum in your mouth. Chan whimpers and it’s an absolutely beautiful thing to hear. You hum again, louder this time. Your chest heaves at the limited breathing but Chan is slowly losing his sense of control and it arouses you, motivates you to keep going. “God, your skilled. I work in oral care, yet you seem to be better at it.” Chan laughs to himself, head thrown back, words spiked with unmistakable lust. His hands move to your shoulders, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he fights the urge to thrust into your mouth. “I won’t last if you keep going like that.” His voice cracks, betraying the thin line of self-control he’s holding onto. You pull back slightly, just enough to take a breath, then bob your head back into his girth, but this time you take him deep and you swear you can catch glimpse of his soul leaving his body, eyes rolling back and brows furrowed in a pornographic way. You choke and gag slightly on his cock, but being the sadistic girl you are, you take pleasure in the way he thrusts less carelessly into your mouth, fucking into you as he tugs on your hair as a guide, the only pillar of support besides the cold counter behind him, his other hand holding onto the edge so he wouldn’t slip, but the moment you hollow your cheeks again and gaze up at him with that stare is when he looses it. Before he could mutter any more words, he just lets out a series of swears. “F-fucking hell-! O-oh my god cumming--” 

And a hot liquid fills your throat, forcing its way inside until your throat is sore, raw and hot from his salty liquids. It’s murky and a bit penny-like in a way, but your addicted to the taste that would normally seem gross. As you pull back with a mix of spit and cum on your tongue, he ruffles up your hair and helps stand you up, kissing an awkward kiss onto your messy forehead as he sets you back down onto the chair, scooping out the remains of his liquid out of your spent pussy and dabbing it up with a tissue, the light fabric teasing your overstimulated clit, drawing a whine out of you. He gently hushes you and continues to clean you up and pack up his stuff.  

“Until next time, yeah? And wear those pink panties again, they look good on you.” He waves out with a charming wink, despite his current state. 

God, this man. Guess your next appointment won’t just be one type of oral... 

[beatlblog]

#George can fix his own dinner sorry it’s for couples only (via @didwemeetsomewherebefore)

#steak and spuds#but none for George huh?#I would love to have heard John's 'indignant' voice#real indignant or mock indignant? (via @crepesuzette2023)

#a regular LITTLE HOUSEWIFE!!!#also his and johns dinner#LMAO literally only cooking for John like#George is right fucking there#but I’ve always loved to think of them in Paul’s house and Paul’s out here with his little apron making John his tea#so honestly this only confirms that image#I’m dying it’s so funny#Johns like don’t point it out to him then he’s gonna stop being my little wifey#I wish he’d answer tho#WAS IT COMMON JOHN 🎤 (via @sleeper9)

#has probably cooked for john since they were teenagers and now people are calling them weird for it#anyway I love the domesticity of it#everyone needs a work wife (via @javelinbk)

#cooking a steak for his husband after a long day of being rock stars#a single mom who works two jobs etc (via @backbenttulips)

#let him cook (literally) (via @elena-ferrante)

#paul being a little campy fork found in kitchen (via @hamyilton)

#ay el amor#perhaps affectionately (via @alwaysreturntome)

#they're in a penthouse where obviously the thing to do would be room service#especially in 1964 where that sort of thing was still new and exciting#Also the fact that George is sitting right there and Paul's not making him dinner I'm dead#Where was Ringo I wonder#But really it makes me think of how Paul talks about being good at scrambled eggs and mashed potatoes and not much else#He likes to be Linda's sue chef and chop things up and hang out with her while she's cooking but she's the one who loves it#And yet here he is cooking for John in a penthouse#Why is it so important for him to maintain gender roles in at least the media perception of his marriage?#Because of comments like this?#Or maybe Linda really was just so many worlds better at cooking and loved it so much like they always assert (via @m1ssunderstanding)

not especially new in 64 but maybe for them newly famous with money

#does george just not eat (via @supersonic1994)

no he alwys does and that's why it's funny

#they let george STARVE 💔 (via @gardenwalrus)

#also John “I love to play it faggy” lennon finding THAT funny is honestly hilarious lol (via @cocaineskinny909)

#its ok if he does john don’t be embarrassed (via @beatlesmenrock)

#I’m going to imagine that Paul turned round and gave George $5#and said ‘go ask the hotel kitchen to make you a sandwich’#‘and don’t come back for a while’#‘mommy’s going to give daddy a special adult kiss on his trousers’ (via @didwemeetsomewherebefore)

#''it sounds funny'' yes it does john. yes it does (via @moptopper)

#also obligatory#what's libel about calling paul camp? (via @saturn-iidae)

#secure men could chuckle at their boy best friend bring called their little housewife (via @paulscunt)

#and yet the regular little housewife apparently forgot to cook something for their kids aka george and ringo lmao (via @innitmarvellous)

#pauls a mummy#johns mummy (via @beatlesyurii)

#this book is out next week and I’m really interested to know what the source for this is considering Malcolm Searle died in 2008#by which I mean…I wonder if audio exists (via @delightfullyatomicfest)

#*heavy italian accent* what? no steak for george? (via @maccaritamondays)

#1) paul only cooking for john and leaving george and ringo to starve in a cardboard box on the side of the road#2) where did he get a little apron when they were on tour#3) he really just wanted to be someone's wife so fucking bad (via @ozymandiasdirge)

#how much do you wanna bet this was a money saving thing#like george is there eating some nice takeout and paul's stirring potatoes saying ''you're wasting all your money. right john???'' (via @moptopper)

When We Was Fab: Inside the Beatles Australasian Tour 1964 by Andy Neill and Greg Armstrong

I’ve stolen this off a Facebook group but feel it needs to be seen on tumblr.

[suzukiblu]

Fifth ( and final! ) 1k of the thank-you 5k I promised y'all behind the cut; “YJ packs up and gets pupped”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon hurls his barely-off jacket out of the Super-Cycle and across the garage to hit the wall without even looking, without even making any actual decision to, and then nearly bursts into tears again like a fucking idiot. Idiot. Stupid, stupid, stu–

He doesn’t know if the others would care about him borrowing their scents for his nest, but he already–he already knows–

Superman told him to go be with his pack. 

Told him to go. 

And “El” isn’t Superman’s pack name. So–so Superman definitely, definitely doesn’t wanna be in his nest. Not even as just as a blocker-muddled trace of scent. 

Kon doesn’t–doesn’t need another stupid pillow anyway. Even if it’s his stupid jacket. 

He grabs Red Tornado’s cape again and unrolls it, then drapes it over the side of the Super-Cycle’ nesting pit, and then wants to cry even worse because he hates how it looks like that. Folds it up square instead, and then doesn’t like how that looks either and shakes it back out and then rolls it up again but that’s not good enough either so he shakes it out and– 

He wishes he could put his jacket in his nest. He–he likes his jacket. 

Superman wouldn’t want him to, though. Not as long as it smells even a little bit like him, anyway. 

Kon just–just buries himself against the pillows he’s already folded and curls down in on himself and drags Red Tornado’s cape halfway over his head and wraps his arms over it and makes himself as small as he can in against them and–and–

He thinks he’s gonna sob, but what actually happens is–is–

He keens, is what actually happens. Not on purpose. Definitely not on purpose. Definitely not. 

Keens an omega call. An omega call for . . . for their pack. 

So–no, it’s not on purpose. Kon’s fucking stupid, yeah, but not–not stupid enough to have done any shit like that on purpose. 

But once he’s done it, it feels like he can’t stop doing it. 

Kon shoves his own fist in-between his teeth and digs them in hard through his glove and against the bones of his knuckles and tries desperately to just sob, to just cry, to–to–to at least muffle the stupid–the stupid keening, the stupid calling, to–to–he doesn’t want anyone to hear that, that’s so pathetic and stupid and pathetic, a stupid useless stray calling for a pack he’s never even had like he–like he’s stupid enough to think–think that–and he doesn’t want anyone to ever, ever know he’s that pathetic, that stupid, that– 

The Super-Cycle’s engine rumbles in a purr so loud it drowns out Kon’s stifled keening completely, and he buries himself in tighter against the folded pillows that smell like the team and tightens his grip on Red Tornado’s cape that smells like him and hides under–hides under it, and tries not to cry too hard. 

And doesn’t wish he had his fucking jacket. 

“Th-thanks,” he chokes, his voice cracking. He doesn’t even know if the Super-Cycle did that on purpose or not, but . . . “Thanks. Sorry, I–I just–thank you.” 

The Super-Cycle keeps purring away, and without having to freak out about the chances of anybody hearing him doing something so fucking embarrassing, Kon manages to calm down enough to stop–stop the fucking calling, at least, and then stop the sobbing, and then even stop the crying. It takes a little bit, but . . . but he manages it. Red Tornado hasn’t come back yet, so that’s . . . some fucking mercy, anyway. 

A lot of fucking mercy, honestly. 

He feels really stupid, still, but the Super-Cycle’s being . . . being really nice to him. Like–way nicer than it has to be. Especially since it likes Robin and Bart both way better than him and probably all the girls too. But like, especially Robin and Bart. Which, sure, way to be grateful for a guy breaking you out of the dig site with his badass custom-designed TTK, but–

Well. If the Super-Cycle’s doing this for him, maybe it likes him more than he thought it did. 

Kon sniffles a couple more times, then scrubs the last of the tears off with the heel of his glove and sits back up to roll up Red Tornado’s cape again. The rolled-up pillow really was the best option, he thinks. Like–most cushioning and all to it. So like–best option, yeah. 

So he rolls it up again, tucks in the ends again, and puts it back against the side of the nesting pit opposite all his other makeshift pillows. The roll and the tuck are both a little neater-looking now, actually, so . . . that’s good, he thinks. Maybe he’s gettin’ the hang of nesting, a little bit. 

Maybe he won’t suck at it, if he practices a little more. Even if he didn’t, like–get to do it before he presented or anything. Like, maybe he could be . . . okay at it, he thinks. 

Kon watches the video again for a refresher on the tips in it and for ideas for what to do with whatever else Red Tornado’s gonna bring. He figures it’ll just be, like, a couple blankets or maybe a stack of towels or something, so probably he’ll just fold ‘em up the same ways he did with either Cissie’s towel or Red Tornado’s cape, ‘cuz he already knows how to do those folds and it’s, like–it’s good practice, right? Because . . . because he’ll be doing this again. Like . . . a lot. 

He’ll be doing this the whole friggin’ rest of his life, and nobody can tell him he’s not allowed to even if they do think he’s, like, a bad omega or a slut or whatever. He’s still an omega either way. He’s still allowed, either way. 

Even if he’s not in anyone’s pack, at least he doesn’t have to smell anything like Westfield. Doesn’t have to be anything like Westfield. 

Doesn’t even have to be an alpha, which . . . he really hadn’t thought he was gonna get out of having to be an alpha. Really hadn’t thought . . . 

He just–hadn’t thought he was gonna get out of having to be an alpha, he guesses. 

But he did. 

Kon sniffles one more time; scrubs the cuff of his glove across his face one more time. Lets himself just feel–just feel all the weird, giddy relief, one more time. Then he focuses again and starts rearranging all his makeshift pillows, because if Suzie actually does come, he really, really has to have a nice nest ready for, like . . . 

He just–Kon really needs to have a nice nest ready, he knows, though he’s not really sure . . . why, exactly? Like, now that he’s thinking about it. Like . . . he doesn’t know why he feels so much like he just really needs to have it. 

He definitely does, though. Like–definitely feels like he needs it, and definitely also does need it. 

. . . he hopes Suzie’ll like it, if he actually does manage to do an okay job. He hopes if she likes it enough, she’ll stick around for a little while and, like . . . watch some of those videos with him or something, or just stream something on his phone with him, or just hang out or talk or . . . 

He hopes if she likes it enough, she’ll get in it with him. Which–it feels kind of dumb, Kon thinks, how much he hopes that, but . . . yeah. He hopes she will, at least for a little bit. Maybe she’d feel safe in it too. 

He just . . . he thinks he’d really like it if she would, is all. 

[thoughtfulfiction]

While We’re Young

Author’s note: Anon requested, Hope you all enjoy!

“Wait,” you said, your voice breaking the comfortable silence in the car. You twisted one of your hoodie strings around your finger, tightening your grip on it and staring at Justin as if the realization had just crashed into you. “What if they don’t like me?”

Justin glanced over, his brows furrowing before his expression softened. His hand found its place on your thigh, his thumb tracing a lazy pattern through the fabric of your leggings. You were convinced that his soothing touch could change lives. “They’re going to love you,” he said simply, as though it wasn’t even a question. “My mom’s already planning to interrogate you about your favorite foods so she can cook for you. That’s her love language.”

You wanted to believe him, but your mind was already racing. “I mean, what if they think I’m not good enough for you? Or—oh god—what if I say something stupid and embarrass myself? Bad first impressions are impossible to recover from, and if this doesn't go the way we hope…” You trailed off, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten.

At the next stoplight, Justin leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “First of all, you couldn’t embarrass yourself even if you tried. And second, I’ve seen you charm complete strangers. My family doesn’t stand a chance.”

Despite his confidence, your nerves didn’t fully settle. “Thanks, babe,” you murmured, managing a small smile. “But what am I supposed to do with the next thirteen hours? That’s so much time for me to go through worse case scenarios.”

“And to make me listen to your Sad Girl playlist,” Justin switched gears to remind you, his lips twitching into a grin.

“Oh, absolutely.” You laughed, connecting your phone to his car’s Bluetooth, taking a break from your negative self-talk. The opening chords of your favorite melancholic ballad filled the car as you leaned back in your seat.

Justin groaned dramatically but didn’t complain. Instead, he reached over to squeeze your hand, the warmth of his skin a quiet and comforting reassurance that you’d carry with you all the way to Eugene.

The fact that he was bringing you was a big deal already but to know that he’d only really done this a couple times made you feel special. Even if he didn’t really say it, he was falling for you just as much as you were falling for him.

Justin pulled you out of your thoughts when he asked, “are you hungry at all? Because I’m thinking about stopping somewhere. I’m starving.”

“Oh yeah, lunch sounds good. I think I saw a Wingstop sign towards this next exit but I can look it up.”

You opted to sit in the car and eat, giving him a long winded breakdown of what you wanted to do and see in Eugene.

“I want the works. Walk me down memory lane. And definitely take me to Nike. It honestly feels illegal not to go to a Nike store where it all started. I’m sure you’re looking to add to your endless collection anyway.” You note with a laugh. If Nike made suits, he'd definitely be first in line.

He gave you a pointed look. “It was an endless collection until I met and started dating a thief. Do you know how many of my sweatshirts I found in your closet this morning while helping you pack? I was looking for the purple one for weeks.”

You laughed so hard you nearly choked on your fries, swapping spots with him after lunch so he could take a break from driving. “Well I’m sorry! It’s not my fault your clothes are so big and they smell like you. Anytime you’re gone I just throw one on and it’s like you’re always with me.”

“Nice save…Catwoman.”

You scoff. “I prefer Robin Hood, actually. Take from the rich and give to the poor. You’re rich, so I take from you and...give to me. The poor.”

“That would work better if I didn’t get most of that stuff for free, but that is a pretty solid comparison.”

After about 8 hours of you being on aux, you decided to cut him so slack and let him take over on music as you continued to drive, mouthing the lyrics of the latest song that was playing from his phone, quickly getting lost in the rhythm.

He glanced over at you, chuckling softly, nodding his head along to the beat. “I didn’t know you were an 80s rock fan.”

“I didn’t either but you played this a few weeks ago while we were making dinner and I’ve been listening to it ever since. Hate to admit it but this is kind of a banger." You smirked, tilting your head toward him. "You know…I won’t tell anyone if you sing.”

Justin immediately starts shaking his head. “No shot. You’re not doing this to me.”

You turned up the music, singing loudly and deliberately off-key as he sighed deeply, his head dropping back against the headrest. But to your surprise, he joined in during the chorus. Both of you were screaming the lyrics to “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard, the car practically vibrating with your energy.

“What happens on the road trip stays on the road trip,” he said, holding out his pinky.

“Deal,” you laughed, locking your pinky with his before refocusing on the road.

A few hours later, Justin motioned for you to take the next exit. “Let’s hop out right here. I want to show you something,” he said cryptically.

The stop turned out to be a scenic lookout, the perfect place to watch the sunset with Mt. Shasta looming majestically in the distance. Justin laced his fingers with yours as the two of you walked toward the edge, stretching your legs after hours in the car.

“This is the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen,” you whispered, mesmerized by the golden and pink hues painting the sky.

Justin turned to you with a warm smile, his eyes full of something that made your stomach flutter. “Yeah… me too.”

You smacked his arm, keeping your gaze on the horizon. “Justin, focus. You’re not even looking at the scenery right now.”

“Sorry, I just got really distracted by the view in front of me. It’s kind of become my favorite.” He stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head. His beard—something that came and went whenever he felt like it—tickled your temple, making you smile.

Turning around in his arms, you finally look up at him, the sight still stealing your breath even after all this time. His green eyes were softer in the glow of the setting sun, flickering between your eyes and lips as if he couldn’t decide where to focus.

“You’re my favorite view too,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Wouldn’t mind waking up to you for a while...the rest of my life even.”

The words hung in the air, fragile yet heavy with meaning. His brows lifted slightly, and for a moment, you worried you’d said too much. You hadn't even meant to say that last part out loud and you almost backtracked. But then, his lips curled into a small, hesitant smile, like he was processing the weight of your words.

“Really?” he asked, his voice low and steady. His hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “You—you see us doing this? Getting married, spending our lives together?”

The vulnerability in his tone made your heart ache in the best way. “Yeah, I do. Which is funny because I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with.”

Justin didn’t respond immediately, but his actions spoke louder than any words ever could. His hands slid to frame your face fully, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as if memorizing every detail. He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to—but you didn’t.

When his lips finally met yours, it was soft and deliberate, like he was pouring everything he felt but couldn’t say into that one kiss. It wasn’t hurried or frantic; it was the kind of kiss that made the world fade away until it was just the two of you.

His hand gently cradled your head, holding you in place as if he was afraid you might slip away. You gripped the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, your heart racing as the kiss deepened. There was something so raw, so unspoken in the way his lips moved against yours—it wasn’t just passion; it was promise. Everything you saw, this bright beautiful future together? He saw it too.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting together. He let out a shaky laugh, his hands still cradling your face. “I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with either,” he admitted, his voice hoarse but filled with a quiet certainty. “Until now.”

The kiss lingered for just a moment longer, both of you savoring the connection, the sound of your heartbeat matching the rhythm of your breath. When Justin finally pulled back, there was a brief moment of silence, a quiet understanding between you. He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, giving you a small smile before pulling away completely to open the door of the car.

“I think we’ve stalled long enough,” he said, his voice a bit rougher than usual but still carrying that calm confidence you admired. “Let’s get this over with.”

You both shared a laugh, though it felt a bit nervous on your part as the reality of the day hit. You had no idea what to expect, but you knew this was a big moment for Justin—and for you.

Justin took the keys from your hand, giving you one last reassuring squeeze before getting in the driver's seat. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the jittery nerves you hadn’t even realized you were holding onto.

The final leg of the drive felt like it stretched on forever, even though only a few hours had passed since you were on the mountain. There was something different in the air now. The soft, quiet hum of the road felt more like a countdown to something important.

Every few minutes, Justin would glance over at you, a soft smile curling at his lips as if trying to reassure himself just as much as you. His hand eventually found itself encasing yours, his thumb making lazy circles over your skin. He wasn’t saying much, but his presence, calm and unwavering, was more than enough.

When the exit for Eugene finally appeared, you felt your pulse quicken. This was it. This was the moment.

“Here we go,” Justin murmured, his voice somehow more steady than his movements, as he guided the car off the highway and toward the familiar road leading to his childhood home.

The transition felt sudden, but not uncomfortable. It was a quiet moment of realization that everything you’d shared so far had been leading to this point. He was letting you in. You were meeting the people who mattered most to him, the ones who had shaped him into the man he was today.

As you approached the house, you could see the familiar outline of the porch, a few trees swaying in the breeze, and a small garage you guessed held memories of Justin’s childhood. The house was modest, but there was a sense of warmth and familiarity that seemed to radiate from the front door, even from the car.

Justin slowed as he approached, his hand reaching over to squeeze yours one last time before he parked the car. He looked over at you, eyes soft but serious, like he was searching for your reassurance.

“You ready?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with both excitement and nerves.

You nodded, squeezing his hand back. “Yeah. Ready.”

And with that, the two of you got out of the car and walked toward the front door of his family’s home, the journey that had brought you here feeling like both an ending and a beginning.

The door swung open before you even knocked, and there stood his mom, her arms outstretched.

She was gorgeous, her dark hair a stark contrast to Justin's much lighter features. But she wasn't interested in him at all, making a beeline for you straight away. “Oh, you’re even more beautiful than he said! I’m Holly—come in, come in!"

You barely had time to process her words before you were enveloped in a warm hug, her energy immediately putting you at ease. Over her shoulder, you spot Justin’s dad, Mark, standing on the porch with a reserved smile, and Justin’s brothers are leaning against the doorway, smirking. Justin laughed softly behind you, side stepping you and his mom. "Alright, let her breathe please? It'd be helpful if she made it through this entire night without suffocating," he jokes as his mom pulls away, rolling her eyes as she gives him a hug.

A younger guy who looks almost exactly like a mustached version of your boyfriend greets you next. "Hi, I'm Patrick. Glad Mitch wasn't lying and you are a real person, but pro tip? You're way out of this dork's league," he says with a serious face, nodding his head towards his older brother.

Justin glares at him and doesn't respond, muttering something under his breath that only Patrick catches as he bursts into a fit of laughter. You give Mitch a hug—the familiar face of Justin's older brother a welcome sight. He was a first-year orthopedic surgery resident at UCLA, the perfect situation for him and Justin to live together again. You'd been able to meet him on several occasions which proved useful in easing your nerves about meeting everyone else. “How was the drive? Are you guys staying at the ranch tonight?”

“We are,” you replied with a smile. “I’m really excited to finally see this infamous place.”

Justin’s dad steps forward, his handshake firm but warm, his eyes studying you with quiet curiosity before his face softens into a welcoming smile. “Don’t let these two scare you off. We’re happy to finally meet you. Let's head inside, I think Holly already has the baby pictures set out and ready for you to go through," he smiles, patting Justin on the back as his son shakes his head.

"You're lucky your dad talked me out of making a PowerPoint Presentation because we were seconds away from watching a pre dinner slideshow." Holly says to him with a small smile as everyone steps inside.

Patrick's voice cuts through everyone's laughter, "she's not even kidding, it was about to have music included and everything but dad saved you. I was about to give her some of the best material." He looks over at you, overenunciating for emphasis. "Two words: bowl. Cut."

"See what I have to deal with?" Justin whispers, gently pulling you into his side. Mark and Holly exchange knowing looks but don't say anything.

The house smelled of cinnamon and fresh bread, like warmth itself had settled into the walls. Framed pictures lined the hallways—some faded with time, others vibrant and new—each capturing a story of childhood adventures and hard-won victories. The fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the cozy living room. This wasn’t just a house; it was a sanctuary, a place where love was stitched into the very fabric of its foundation.

On the table in the living room is a stack of photo albums from when Justin was a newborn all the way up until his senior year of college. Countless memories were shared in these frames, a clearly busy but joyful childhood filled with love, laughter and lots of sporting events of all kinds. You could see that this family valued quality time with each other and the home you were in radiated warmth and love.

You ran your fingers lightly over the plastic covering of one album, tracing the faded marker label: Justin – Year 3. Inside, a chubby-cheeked toddler grinned back at you, his tiny facial features stretched in a mischievous but slightly forced smile.

“He never changed,” Patrick teased. “Still hates cameras.”

His words made you laugh a little because it was true, but you also saw something deeper. A boy who had grown up in a home where love wasn’t measured in trophies or contracts but in moments. The same boy who had fought to protect his private life in the face of stadium lights and national attention. You understood now—it wasn’t about secrecy. It was about keeping his people, the most important part of him, safe.

Your gaze flickered to Justin, his fingers tapping against his thigh—a telltale sign of deep thought. He wasn’t just reminiscing. He was remembering what it felt like to carry all of this, to be seen as something larger than life before he even had a chance to grow into it. And yet, here, he wasn’t the NFL quarterback. He was just...Justin.

"He was the starter by the end of that season, kind of became the hometown hero from then," Mitch sighs, sifting through some of the photos. "Things kind of got chaotic after that, with comparisons and people talking on social media."

"It was annoying," Justin cuts in, "deleted my Instagram after that. Only got it back around the draft for endorsement purposes." His words are dry, like it was painful or embarrassing thinking back to that time.

You had always respected, even admired, Justin’s need for privacy. But sitting here, surrounded by the people who had shaped him, you understood where it all came from: it wasn’t just about keeping the world out—it was about keeping his world safe. The weight of expectations, the relentless scrutiny, the unspoken pressure to be perfect—it had started young. He hadn’t chosen to be private. He had been forced to learn how to protect the things that mattered most.

And that’s what this house and his family was.

His one refuge from a world that always wanted more.

"Alright," Holly says, breaking you out of your epiphany, "who's ready to eat?"

This was a family you could definitely see yourself being a part of. Justin seemed so much more relaxed and at ease here which was a stark contrast to what you'd seen from him recently. His job was unforgiving, unrelenting. And the fans? You thanked your lucky stars daily for the fact that Justin wasn't on Twitter, especially after the Houston loss. This is where he belonged, these were his people. They didn't care about the stats or the money or everything that came with it and that's exactly how he wanted to be treated. He had a home in these people. He'd only found that comfort and peace one other time since he left Eugene.

And that was when he met you.

Dinner went on seamlessly, Mark joking asked if you two had a wedding date set after watching his son not-so-subtly check in on you throughout your stay. There were inside jokes, little moments of laughter from your relationship with Justin like how you had to adjust to his crazy hours in the facility from Monday-Wednesday but Thursdays were the days that really mattered, it was just the two of you. And sometimes Mitch and Isabella. But those were the days that brought you even closer, those little moments, just like this one that brought you so much joy it felt like you'd explode. There was easy laughter, Patrick telling some story about Justin being so private and how much he likes to keep to himself that he never thought he'd see this day. You spoke up and reassured him that you think you've successfully peeled back some layers and found your best friend in the process. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Mitch giving Patrick a nudge. Even Mark cracked a little smile, but all you could focus on was Justin's subtle smile that spoke volumes, in his own unique way. After everyone was finished with their meal, you found yourself in the kitchen with Holly, helping her plate dessert while the guys debated football in the other room.

“He’s different with you, you know.” She nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel before leaning against the counter.

Your hands froze mid-reach. A small knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. “Different good or…?”

She smiled, her eyes soft with something unreadable. “Good. Really good.” There was a wistfulness in her expression, something unspoken lingering in the air. “You remind me of someone.”

You tilted your head, curiosity sparking. “Oh?”

“His grandma. My mom,” she said, voice quieter now, like the weight of memory had settled over her. “She was the only one who could ever get my dad to slow down. He was always moving—always thinking about the next challenge, the next goal. But with her, it was…different. She had this way of pulling him back to the present, reminding him that love isn’t measured in achievements. That life isn’t just about what you do—it’s about who you share it with.”

Her eyes met yours then, her meaning unmistakable. “Seeing you and Justin felt very similar to seeing them together again. It’s really nice to see him be with someone who helps him to reel it in a little.”

Your heart clenched, warmth blooming in your chest. You swallowed past the lump in your throat, forcing out a small laugh. “Well, he’s still a workaholic, so I might not be that good at it.”

Holly chuckled. “That’s just who he is. But I see the way he looks at you. The way he’s always checking in. You’re his home. His safe space.” She paused, and added softly, “And that’s all a mother could ever want for her son.”

You blinked back the unexpected sting of tears and watched as Holly swiped at her eyes. Before you could really process what you were doing, you were hugging her again. All the nerves and tension from earlier have completely vanished. Justin might not say much, but his actions had always spoken volumes. And now, hearing it from his mom—knowing that she saw it too—meant more than you could put into words.

The two of you walked back in with trays holding little bowls filled with apple crisp and a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top with caramel drizzle.

As Justin watched you, something settled in his chest—a feeling he hadn’t even known he was searching for. His mom was smiling at you in that way she only did when she had already decided someone was family. His dad—usually quiet, reserved—nodded along to your words like he genuinely enjoyed the conversation. His brothers, relentless as ever, had already started pulling you into their teasing.

And there you were. Sitting beside him, laughing like you belonged here. Because you did.

An hour later, after lingering goodbyes and a few last jokes, you walked side by side to his car. As Justin slid into the driver’s seat, he exhaled slow and deep. A weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying finally lifted. Maybe it was the fear of his two worlds colliding. Maybe it was the quiet, unspoken worry that you wouldn’t fit into this part of his life.

But you did. Seamlessly. Effortlessly. Like you were always meant to.

“Well,” you said, patting his thigh with a teasing grin, “that went great. Can’t believe you were so freaked out.”

He turned to you, feigning offense before shaking his head with a laugh. The sound of it filled the car, warm and easy. You joined in, your laughter melting into his as he reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

This. This is what home should feel like.

Justin leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “Told you they’d love you,” he murmured.

But as he pulled back, hand still wrapped around yours, the thought hit him like a slow-burning realization.

I think I might love you too.

[sharky-teeth]

anyone looking for more wincest fic recs?? nobody?? okay here you go anyway. i have a bunch of fics i couldn't fit into the other list, so i needed to make a brand new one with more variety this time around. i organized it by wordcount to make things easier, however i rarely read long fics, so these are mostly pretty short. once again this list got way out of hand...

(for mature or explicit rating, you can assume it's [sometimes implied] bottom sam, or it isn't discussed. for bottom dean or versatile samdean, i made a small separate section of my favorites.)

1k~5k

Remember the Mountain Bed by nigeltde (G, 1k): post canon. sam and dean jr. one of the only fics that have ever made me cry and with only a thousand words! this one is so very dear to my heart, heartbreaking in its details, yet warm and soothing at the same time. just gorgeous.

Are You by lovetincture (G, 1k): one of my favorite gen fics. i adore second person POV and this is a great example of how it can maximize impact.

I Was the Dirty Little Boy (E, 1k): a quick weecest sparring session turning into spanking... you know. the good stuff.

Stealth Run by LaughableLament (E, 1k): late seasons + established relationship + possessive dean + slutty sam. i love this author a lot.

State of Mind by lovetincture (M, 2k): the summary goes "It's legal in the state of Ohio." yes it is as good as suggested. the tension in this fic mwahh

The Euphoria Emporium by Laughable_Lament (E, 2k): sam and dean visit a sex shop and dean gets jealous. quick and nasty.

Be Mine by De_Nugis (T, 2k): first part of a short series. for people who love silly, goofy samdean. this is no plot, pure crack. the kind that actually makes you laugh out loud.

Dating for Dummies by sevenfists (M, 3k): there's not enough first time aftermath fics. this has ruined me because it is the exact level of lighthearted i love, where the brothers continue being brothers first and foremost, even after boning.

We Are Drinking Beer at Noon on Tuesday by whirlpoolsleep (M, 3k): neat outsider POV. always love seeing the brothers through normal people's eyes.

With Mercy for the Greedy by whiskyandoldspice (E, 3k): unmatched weecest pwp. the amount of hits/kudos doesn't always mean quality but for this one it absolutely does. this is pretty much flawless in my eyes.

August 5th, 2001 by coricomile (M, 4k): established weecest! this was cute and tender with the right amount of angst surrounding sam's imminent departure. bittersweet ending.

Run It All Over by runawaydr3amer (E, 4k): first part of a series. the classic "brotherly handjobs" scenario, but it immediately stood out to me. really on point voices and hot amosphere.

Dean's palm would be rougher by FrancesHouseman (M, 4k): hand kink! i think we can all relate to sam here. this has a scene that's hotter than many pwps i've read lol

Know when to walk away and know when to run by deirdre_c (E, 4k): brothers playing strip poker goes too far... set in s3. great sexual tension and a super satisfying first time.

At Least It's Only One Song by ADeedWithoutaName (E, 4k): dean-gifting-sam-a-lap-dance fic. another outsider POV with an instantly likable OC. she can tell there's something off about those guys...

sticks and stones and weed and bones by aeroport_art (M, 5k): sam seeing a therapist at stanford. really great character study and winchester family dynamics. the conclusion to this story is just... crazy. so well done.

Shadows on the Sun by Linden (M, 5k): soft weecest first kiss! the thing i liked most in this story is how protective they both are. nice brotherly feelings.

wretched creation (M, 5k): one of my favorite reads of last year! criminally underrated work with less than a thousand hits. angsty feels and an unsettling atmosphere. dean facing a demon who knows more about his feelings toward his little brother than he'd like.

Forty-One by themegalosaurus (E, 5k): angsty unnegotiated kinky sex with lots of hell trauma. the kind of porn that's so nuanced and well written it doesn't get me horny (that's a compliment!)

Monumentally Stupid by strive2bhappy (5k): dean helps sam shave and it was hotter than i could ever imagine. great banter, tension, and emotional weight.

Double Solitaire by objectlesson (M, 5k): post mystery spot. amazing character study through a very creative concept. this is one of the authors who really knew how to write dysfunctional wincest.

6k~10k

this bullet inside me by missroserose (E, 6k): who's up for angsty first time in a long time? if you enjoy hathfrozen (i'm sure you do), this will definitely hit a similar spot.

Belonging by strive2bhappy (6k): wifey sam. i repeat Wifey Sam!!!

Lucky Streak by merle_p (M, 6k): thirsty pining done so right. incest that gives you butterflies in the stomach, believe it or not.

You Can't Lose What You Never Had by nigeltde (E, 6k): nigeltde is an incredible writer. from beginning to end this fic is insane. angsty, desperate, emotional, shameful, this takes you on a rollercoaster of emotions. top notch characterization.

How it Works by Dyed_Red (M, 6k): this is probably in my top ten fics of all time, peak codependent, obsessive, dysfunctional samdean. this particular fic really nails their dynamic and the most delicious, fucked up aspects of it.

Taking to Give by Dyed_Red (M, 7k): lovely character study. this one is a bit softer than most Dyed_Red works, it offers an emotional view of sam and dean growing up. heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time.

Wire Inside Me by merle_p (E, 7k): the sam-is-carrying-lucifer's-baby fic. this story is great for how it deals with the pregnancy pushing dean over the edge. the first time tension here is excellent!

Dean is badass. Sam has always known it. by FrancesHouseman (E, 7k): very interesting dynamic with sam and dean playing mind games to see who gives in first. i like this cocky sam a lot.

Hush Little Baby by hellhoundsprey (E, 7k): CNC weecest. sam and dean go to a haunted house and get up to some nasty freaky shit. it's even better than you can imagine. fyi there's dean in a clown costume.

they said it was the fall of man by jukeboxhound (M, 7k): set in s6, the aftermath of sam getting his soul back through dean's POV. pure angst and overwhelming emotions, beautifully written, it hurt so good.

Man of Steel by glovered (T, 8k): THE lighthearted incest fic for me. along the lines of paxlux's 'Artery', at least to me. this borders on crack, a hilarious, feel-good story that always makes me smile when i think about it.

Disney Princess Hair by Dyed_Red (T, 8k): gencest/weirdcest in its best shape. sam as sleeping beauty! and obviously dean being very very very weird about handling the curse. i loved how this touched on the obsessive aspects of their relationship while keeping the tone light.

Architecture of Choice by Dyed_Red (E, 9k): yes another Dyed_Red work bc they're my favorite author. this one has one of my fave tropes (fuck or die) and it deals with sam's lack of bodily autonomy in a visceral way.

Pull over by jjtaylor (E, 9k): for my piss play enjoyers! this has lots of great tension and it goes way beyond kinky sex.

This Is All Very Meta by road_rhythm (E, 10k): loss of virginity roleplay fic. except it's sooo much more than that. i thought this would be fun and lighthearted, couldn't have been more wrong. the emotional depth delivered here caught me by surprise, but it shouldn't have, given the author. flawless characterization as usual.

God will forgive me but by sammyatstanford (E, 10k): weecest with lots of pining!sam and angsty yearning. brothers who need each other in sick, twisted ways. there was also a great amount of actual brotherly feelings, which is always a plus in my book.

>10k

Acid by Goshen (E, 12k): to this day one of the most insane things ever written. this fic is a classic, it's a surreal experience, a fever dream. dissecting the brotherfuckers, no stone left unturned.

Baby Blue by Edwardina (E, 13k): sam gets hit with a curse that makes him need to suck on a pacifier 24/7. it turned out to be way less sexual than i expected, this is for caretaker!dean lovers.

Learn to say the same thing by glovered (T, 14k): great case fic. sam and dean go to a single's retreat in the mountains for a case and eventually have to confront their incestuous feelings. every glovered fic just fills me with joy.

Supersize Me, Sammy by awabubbles (E, 16k): sadly one of the only size queen sam fics ever written, but it is absolutely perfect so i made my peace with that.

Only Natural (Be My Hands) (E, 17k): sam manages to break both his wrists so dean steps up to take care of his needs. and i mean all of his needs.

Relapse by ani_coolgirl (M, 21k): lebanon AU. i adore this fic, i'm in love with it, i think about it all the time and will think about it forever probably. everything here was done incredibly well, one of those fics that feel specifically made for me lol

Edges by glovered (M, 23k): amazing banter and lots of UST. set in stanford era but it's not really angsty. the tone was just perfect for me, this fic had me GIDDY.

Driving Down the Darkness by Nutkin (M, 39k): one of my faves in terms of Brotherly Feels. extremely well written and thoughtful, super slow burn. outstanding early seasons getting together fic that everyone should read.

Like a Ghost with Two Voices by Dyed_Red (E, 46k): my favorite demon!dean fic. some of the wildest scenes i've ever read. pretty disturbing and incredibly delicious. if you're into fucked up consent stuff, this is a must read. it has a happy ending!

bottom dean and versatile samdean recs:

Take Backs by saltandbyrne (E, 2k): swesson + switching. hands down one of the best PWPs i've ever read, which was to be expected from saltandbyrne. it really doesn't get filthier than this.

How to Wear Polka Dots by homo_pink (M, 6k): swesson. this one is so so weird. and so charming. interesting and refreshing writing style, i had so much fun reading this.

Here's Your Future by autoschediastic (E, 7k): weecest with teasing!dean for a change. loved the power dynamics here, and the intensity throughout the whole fic. desperate, guilty first time, badwrong at its finest.

Enduring Love by oschun (E, 7k): really enjoyed the relationship study here, insightful and well written.

there will be better days by deadlybride (E, 9k): my favorite heaven fic! so warm and peaceful and emotional, full of love and longing and happy reunited soulmates. just thinking about this story makes my heart ache in the best way. really really beautiful.

Yeah, I'm a Back Door Man (E, 22k): established relationship. dean's hell trauma. this was a rollercoaster, great character study, good mix of angst and schmoop as well. probably the best bottom dean i've read so far (along with a couple Goshen works)

Yesterday, minnesota by Goshen: (E, 29k): speaking of applecrumbledore... this fic truly rewired my brain. the queen of "fucking for years without talking about it until one of them snaps". brilliantly executed, one of my favorite deans ever.

yay it's finally over! still i wish i had more long fics to rec lmao do check tags carefully before reading! enjoy the wincest goodness!