#could be platonic too idc
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I love how basically every crew we see has a dynamic where the chaotic dumbass captain (for varying definitions of chaotic and dumbass) is tempered by a more sensible and careful first mate (for varying definitions and sensible and careful)
Like, obviously different people and different crews have different needs, but still — the first mate is generally the calmer and more reasonable of the two
And Then There’s Luffy And Zoro
#one piece#monkey d. luffy#roronoa zoro#zolu#could be platonic too idc#it doesn’t matter if they smooch or not#what matters is that they are#in all timelines and across all universes#two halves of a whole idiot#Zoro is the Ultimate Luffy Enabler
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Rumors say this is what tipped Anakin to the Dark side.
#click for better quality!#Rex can't catch a fucking break man#All these Jedi do is eat hot chip. throw him over a cliff and flirt with the enemy.#Apologies if the armor is scuffed idk how perspective works#I'd do one version with Padme but her headdress looks mortifying to draw from this angle#'i'm not calling you good boy Ani you just fucking murdered an entire tuskan village. the woman and the children too!'#Okay that made me cackle.#captain rex#the clone wars#swtcw#star wars the clone wars#clone wars#tcw#ct 7567#TCW Captain Rex#TCW CT 7567#anakin skywalker#star wars anakin#TCW Anakin Skywalker#sw tcw fanart#the clone wars fanart#tcw fanart#clone wars meme#clone wars fanart#could be tagged as ship? Idk idc but this was drawn with platonic rl in mind#Graye's Art#ask to tag#Graye Draws
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soft cuddles!!
#my art#draco malfoy#harry potter#drarry#drarry art#hp#hp art#its kinda shitty but i always love sleepy cuddles#this could be read as ship or platonic idc :)#was trying to play around with my shading idrk if it worked but#nobody look too hard at the anatomy / proportions (guy who has not taken a proper art class ever) (eyeballs it all)
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"this man, is weird.. CRAZY weird.." "he was always very bright.."
#i think abt this soo often u have no idea#no one understands them like i do.. sighh..#platonic or romantic idc There is something Happening there#this also implies that sammy doesn't hate norman/displays some form of positive feeling towards him#bc it's shown in canon that he doesn't rlly like many ppl in the studio#and despite sammy's descent into insanity norman still appreciated him for who he was#they way norman talks abt sammy in his first audio log feels so personal too#probably kicked his feet and giggled abt him idk man#like okaayy what u kno abt him pooks... something u wanna tell me.. twirls my hair/..#IM SO ILL OH MY GODDDDDDDD#CAN ANYONE HEAR ME#i could go on a full 2 hour youtube rant abt how tragic they are#both together and as separate people#and dont even get me STARTED on the reason for norman's heart obsession while in the cycle and why he collects them#UGGHHHHHHHH KICKS THE WALL PUNCHES THE FLOOR I HATE THE FLOOR#been mentally ill about them since 2017 ❤ we up#at least until my pea sized 8 yr old child brain found out normmy was a thing#finding that shitty ms paint ship art changed my life..#theyre literally my og otp 5eva nothing will top them ever#smushing their faces together like barbies type shit#i do wish they had some kind of interaction actual gameplay wise in batim (or even batdr)#idc what kind i just need to see them in the same room together interacting in some way#batim#bendy and the ink machine#normmy#sammy lawrence#norman polk#norman x sammy#rosey rambles#I LOVE DOOMED YAOI
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The frustrating reality of adhering to tags also means that people who don't deserve your art of Elain Archeron and your love for her unfortunately get access to it anyway. 🥲
Either way, tho I'm probably going to post some early Solara & Elain being girl besties tomorrow.
#elain archeron#pro elain#pro elain archeron#i want a cool platonic ship name for them#the doe and the raven?#the sight and the sword?#sight and sword?#life and death lowkey too lol#i could even go goofy with it like trowels and terrorism#since solara was a vigilante pirate who freed slaves and thus a foreign and domestic terrorist lolol#at least according to my DM#one scientist elain to rule them all#she's just superior that way idc idc
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unfinished bakudeku sketch
#I'm already spotting all the mistakes here but the vibes make me happy and I won't be getting to this anytime soon#So there u go#I wanna make comics tbh and post more of those#They're very fun#Also I say Bakudeku but this could always be platonic too#When drawing it I did have the romantic intention but idc how it gets looked at#Izuku Midoriya#Midoriya Izuku#Katsuki Bakugou#Bakugou Katsuki#Mha#Bnha#My hero academia#Boku no hero academia#Bakudeku#Bkdk
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For me it's all about the soulmatism. Zuko's soulmates were easily Aang and Katara.
#Idc idc#Zukaang#Zutara#Now whether people view it as platonic or not you know that's up to everyone#I could add sokka in there too
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thinking abt how at least tasu had the closure of knowing it was nagito's body when they found him. miwa had to deal with the combined dread of knowing kokichi could be dead and knowing that if he WASNT dead, he was probably the culprit which meant miwa would have to watch him get executed. when its revealed that kokichi is the victim, it isn't much better. miwa is relieved that kokichi isn't the killer, but is devastated to know that he's dead.
#fable talks 💫#maki also had to deal with this dilemma on kaito's end which adds the potential for bonding maybe.....#i dont think she'd have anything against miwa#theyre like neutral for most of the killing game methinks#but after ch5 they become each others' source of comfort#maki is blaming herself for kaito's death and miwa feels like they could have done something to stop kokichi before all of this happened#(maki and kaito can be read as platonic or romantic here idc im a multishipper and i also like found family and friendship hcs)#regardless the point is miwa and maki both feel responsible for the death of someone close to them#I FORGOT TO PUT THE REGULAR TAGS OOPS#miwa yanagi#danganronpa oc x canon#danganronpa oc#oc x canon#kandi crown!#ehhh i'll tag tasu too he's here#tasu suzuki#miwa x kokichi
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childhood bsfs jake who's known reader all his life and they both like eachother platonically. till he sees reader wasting time dating too many other guys and decides to take matters in his own hands and helps her fuck the frustration out till all she can think about is his dick. (++++ if jake is soft dom or switch OR EVEN SUB IDC he'll let reader use him however she wants.) this is like a best friends with benefits to lovers hehe
this is so slutty i love it:
Childhood friend! Jaeyun who known you his whole life that he assumed you would find the perfect guy for yourself. But upon seeing you always ending up with shitty guys, he can’t help but think he’s the only one that ends up in your bed at the end of the night.
Childhood friend! Jaeyun that lets out breathy moans feeling his girth being squeezed by your folds in your bedroom. Even though your date would be coming anytime soon for you, you can’t help but moan in pleasure feeling Jaeyun big girth in your hot pussy.
Childhood friend! Jaeyun that knows it’s wrong to be having you do this with your date coming in a few minutes, but it felt too good to stop now. You were so sexually frustrated that no other guy can do it better than Jaeyun. Jaeyun whined when you grind back down on him.
Childhood friend! Jaeyun that felt his orgasm coming, gripping your hips tightly knowing it was gonna be bruised and your date would most likely see it if you end up in his bed for the night. But that just made it even more sexually better, cause Jaeyun knows you’ll never let anyone else have you other than him.
Childhood friend! Jaeyun felt your pussy spasm around him, your back arching beautifully as you came on his dick. You breathed out and moaned only thinking about Jaeyun dick. Jaeyun, Jaeyun, Jaeyun dick is so- God, it was too much. Jaeyun couldn’t help but chuckle seeing you dick drunk.
Childhood friend! Jaeyun that comes seconds later, his warm cum filling you up. You felt worned out and full. Jaeyun pulled out of your seeping cunt, his cum mixed with yours spilling out your pussy. He could go for round two, but your date would be here any second.
Childhood friend! Jaeyun that helps get you cleaned up and ready for your date, although you said you didn’t want to go anymore. He kissed your temple when you received a message saying that he was here. Jaeyun walked you downstairs and as you were about to leave, he whispered in your ear that he’ll fuck again after your date.
Childhood friend! Jaeyun that watched you get into your dates car and smirks to himself. He knows you’ll always be his at the end. And as your date drives you to a restaurant, you still can’t stop thinking about Jaeyun dick, and how it’ll make you cum many times more later on that night. He can’t wait to finally make you his.
#★彡 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐱𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 彡★#✰ 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐱𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ✰#sim jake x you#sim jake x reader#sim jaeyun x you#sim jaeyun x reader#enhypen jake x you#enhypen jake x y/n#enhypen jake x reader#enhypen jaeyun#enha jaeyun#enhypen jake#enha jake#enhypen sim jaeyun#enhypen sim jake#sim jake hard hours#sim jaeyun smut#sim jake smut#sim jaeyun#sim jake#enhypen#enha#enha smut#enha x reader#enha fluff#enha imagines#enha scenarios#enhypen smut#enha x y/n#enhypen x y/n
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something about being close — sam winchester
pairing : s.2!sam winchester x gn!reader, featuring platonic dean ➖⟢ genre : angst, fluff, ➖⟢ cw : sam and reader are lovingly mean to each other, bad insults (weird, stupid, lame), bad jokes, swearing, canon typical violence and ghosts, arguing, so much kissing, could be ooc but idc, edited but most likely still contains a few mistakes, single usage of y/n ➖⟢ wc : 9.5K summary : sam is acting weird, and when it puts people in danger, you can't let it slide (despite the fact that you're totally in love with him).
MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!
“hey, check this out,” sam calls to you and dean, not bothering to look up from his computer screen. “think we found our violent spirit.” you part from your own research without a single qualm, resting a hand on the back of sam’s chair as he leans back for you and dean to get a better look. “marissa hancock. she was a student at the college, died a violent death there, just like we thought. it’s thought that the janitor impaled her with his mop while he was working in her dorm hall, but he was never put away for lack of evidence.”
“explains the janitor kabob,” dean quips, already headed to shrug on his jacket.
“easy solve,” you admit. it only took a solid half hour of searching through records to find the right murder. “but why’s she killing now? she’s had, what?” you lean further over sam’s shoulder to inspect the record, “fifty some years to be killing janitors, why start now?”
“dunno,” sam shrugs, and you can feel his shoulder brush against you, reminding you how close he is. doing your best to stay casual and maybe not stare longingly at his pretty face from this close up, you straighten your back and go to grab your own jacket as sam types away on his keyboard. “looks like her original murderer died two weeks ago.”
“right when the killings started,” dean finishes. “alright, let’s go. you got where she’s buried, sam?”
“yep,” he stands, shutting his laptop. “saint mercy cemetery, not too far.”
“hm,” you laugh out, “second saint mercy cemetery this month. people need to get more creative,” you note as you exit the motel room and head down the short hallway to get to the impala.
“and what would you name a cemetery?” dean asks, ready to catch you off guard or tease you for anything he can get his hands on.
“i should have thought of a clever answer before saying that,” you admit, “but i do wish it were socially acceptable to call them dead people neighborhoods.”
“that’s lame,” sam grins, throwing his arm around your shoulders for just about two seconds before he has to let go to get through the small doorway and outside.
“c’mon,” you complain, “i know it’s kind of lame, and definitely insensitive, but imagine someone just asked you where you’re headed after work and you get to tell them you’re going to the dead people neighborhood. cemetery’s no fun, at least dead people neighborhood is accurate.” you close the back door of the car behind you as you settle in to punctuate your point.
“you’re weird,” sam teases in a matter-of-fact tone, not even looking back from the passenger's seat to see the sneer on your face.
“no, you’re weird,” you fire back.
“alright, kids,” dean interrupts, “enough bickering like we’re four, we’ve got a job to do,” he snickers as he backs the car up.
“okay, dean,” you and sam chime, voices full of mocking and almost totally in sync. dean rolls his eyes hard, because it’s just one of those days where the two of you can’t stop feeding into the antics of the other, regressing the combined mental age of the three of you by at least twenty years.
having known the brothers since you were kids through bobby, and starting to hunt with them about a year and a half ago, you’ve certainly grown close with the both of them. but a little closer in age, you and sam are nothing but two peas in a pod. and much to dean’s chagrin, that means it only takes a split second for the two of you to switch things up and turn against him when he tries to break up your banter. it’s pretty much all loving argumentation, of course, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying as all hell for whoever has to witness it.
“and for the record, i like dead people neighborhood,” dean offers, ignoring your moment of synchronicity with sam.
“yes!” you celebrate, reaching around the seat in front of you to lightly hit sam’s shoulder. “you’re the lame one, you’re no fun.”
he scoffs, mumbling something to himself about how, “of course dean likes dead people neighborhood. it’s stupid.”
you resist the urge to tell him that he’s stupid, and instead follow dean’s direction to focus on the case.
“hold on, dean. you should drop me off on campus first, one of us should make sure another janitor doesn’t fall on his mop handle before we can burn the bones,” you suggest.
“no.”
your brow furrows at how fast sam shuts you down, his serious tone a harsh contrast to his practically whiny mumble moments before. you glance at dean to see that he’s got his own eyebrows raised in confusion.
“what’d’you mean, ‘no’?” you question.
“i mean,” he clears his throat as if he’s just realized his strong denial was awkward, “that that could be dangerous alone, so i’ll go and you can stick with dean.”
you send a bewildered look to dean, one he doesn’t catch trying to pay attention to the street name up ahead. “i’m sorry, are you suggesting i can’t handle a measly ghost?” mostly you’re confused by sam’s words, but you can’t help letting a bit of offense slip into your voice.
“n-no, no that’s not what i’m saying,” he fumbles, trying to fix what he said, “i meant– i meant it would be safer for anyone not to go alone. so– so i’ll go with you and dean can stick with burning the body.”
it’s a clumsy, bad save that’s entirely unconvincing.
“you’re seriously gonna stick me with grave digging duty?” dean grunts, “y/n’s right, it’s just one ghost, we don’t need two of us to deal with it. digging up a grave is arguably harder.”
“exactly,” you reason, “which is why i should go scope out the dorm hall, and you should go with dean to the dead people neighborhood.”
“she’s buried in a family mausoleum,” counters sam, “her grave doesn’t need to be dug up, which means it’s a one person job, and since there could be an actual violent ghost in the dorm, two people should go. and don’t try to make dead people neighborhood a thing, at the very least it’s too long, not to mention it’s not funny.”
despite the fact that he’s teasing you, you’re glad to hear something normal come out of his mouth. his hesitancy to let you take on the ghost is odd, especially considering the ghost might not show up at all. it’s not like he’s never been protective of you, it’s in both his and certainly dean’s nature. but he knows full well that you are completely capable of handling one violent ghost, and he’s been weird like this for the past two weeks.
you laugh when you admit, “it wasn’t quite as good in context as i thought it would be, but it wasn’t that bad, i’m just tryna to stick with my bit,” you defend, “and fine, two people at the dorms, one on dead person arson.”
“are you serious?” sam laughs, halfheartedly tossing his head back to give you a judgemental look through the corner of his eye.
“dead serious, pun absolutely intended,” you let out a full laugh at the strangled sigh he lets out. oh how you love to rile him up with bad jokes. “you’re too easy, sam. for that, i’m sticking you on grave duty. dean and i will handle the dorm.”
“you should be on grave duty, for all the bad jokes today,” he argues.
dean practically growls in annoyance, “how about i go on grave duty, so i can get away from your annoying asses.” it’s not a suggestion, and the both of you huff out a sigh, but don’t argue.
dean drops you off a little ways from the dorm hall for you to grab a shotgun and salt rounds with less of a chance of being seen. you leave the other shotgun for dean just in case, bothered that yours is still broken from the last hunt. there hadn’t been enough time to fix it yet. so, you grab an iron rod, hoping to use that before any guns on a college campus. it’d be a sticky situation to get out of, being caught with shotguns in a dorm, and at the very least incredibly inconvenient to scare the hell out of a bunch of college aged kids at eleven pm. sam sticks the shotgun under his jacket, generally hiding it from the view of anyone not looking too closely.
walking a few minutes, you find the right dorm hall and sam hands the gun off to you to pull out his lock pick. but, glancing behind you, you shove the gun back into his hands and yank him into you.
“the hell?” he resists for a split second before you quickly interrupt him.
“shut up! hide the gun and act like you’re piss drunk. someone’s coming,” you hiss. in a swift movement, he tucks the gun back under his jacket as you shimmy the iron rod into your sleeve, then he swings his free arm around you, practically dropping half of his weight on you. “dude,” you complain, before falling into character. “sammy, come on!” you whine loudly. “i can’t reach my id with you like this,” you pretend to feel around for something in your back pocket while keeping him standing, and he immediately picks up on what you’re trying to do. he stumbles forward so that you have to use both hands to keep him upright, and you curse at your false struggle. “help me out here, sammy, will you?” you try to make your voice sound overly desperate, maybe a little innocent too, “why don’t you lean against the wall so we can get inside,” you beg, trusting sam to play his part well.
“nooo,” he slurs, dragging the word out in a whiny pitch, “don’t wanna.” he turns into you and haphazardly wraps his lanky arm all the way around your form, tugging you to him and nearly knocking the both of you over. you feel heat rush to your cheeks at this and desperately remind yourself that he’s only pressing his face into your neck so that he can get a look at the person approaching and keep the shotgun well hidden from view.
you see the girl out of the corner of your eye, young and clearly a student headed for the dorm.
“oh, thank god!” you exclaim, “hey, i’m so sorry to bother you, but do you think you could open the door for us?” you ask as sweetly as you can, pulling your eyebrows together to gain sympathy, before adding on a humorous tone, “my boyfriend is stupid drunk and i can’t get us inside.” you can feel sam stiffen for a split second at your words, and you yourself wonder if you should have just gone the “friend” route for the sake of your own sanity. you’re going to want to keep calling sam your boyfriend, over and over again.
“oh my god, of course,” she laughs goodnaturedly, and you thank the lord she’s laid back, rather than some uptight rule follower ready to report you to administration. she swipes her id and holds the door open for you, and as you struggle into the building, you think that sam is making this harder for you than it has to be. but there’s absolutely no denying you love the way it feels to just have him all over you, even for the sake of illegally entering a building with a gun.
“thank you so much,” your voice is one big sigh of relief, slightly muffled by the fabric of sam’s jacket.
“yeah, don’t worry about it,” she smiles, “you two are super cute, by the way,” she compliments before turning towards the stairs and waving a kind goodbye.
you do your best to not stumble over your words as you thank her, heat once again rising to your face, and you’re sure that sam can feel the warmth of your neck. body stiff, you turn and head down the hallway in the opposite direction, sam still clinging to you until it’s clear.
“alright, get off, you big dork,” you snort, gently pushing him away and doing your best to regain your composure to proceed as if you don’t have a massive crush on him. “did ya have to make it so hard for me?”
he shrugs with a sly grin, “had to make it convincing, didn’t i? besides, it was your idea, you don’t get to complain.”
you stick your tongue out at him and he raises his eyebrows as if to say, “really?”
“she was really nice,” you note, voice almost wistful in a way that sam easily picks up on. about a year into hunting with the brothers and dean was off buying food, you and sam had collapsed onto a motel bed together as you had many times before by then, both exhausted after a long case. that night, as you spoke in tired, hushed tones, with no need for anyone but the other to hear your words, you had somehow ended up with your head resting on his biceps and one of his legs swung over yours.
that’s the night you told him you were jealous that he got to go to college, even if it wasn’t for long. you’d told him how you liked the idea of that life, even if you had to return to hunting after it was over. you wanted friends your age, to learn, go to stupid parties and have a college partner. you knew the experience wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies, but you wanted it anyway. he’d said, sure, it wasn’t perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than hunting in his opinion. he wanted you to have that. once this was all over, and you both got justice for your families, he’d help you apply, make sure you got in somewhere, maybe even go with you. a hush fell over the room and he knew you weren’t convinced.
“yeah, she was,” he says, his own voice a touch more gentle than moments ago. “we were lucky.” he doesn’t want to tell you that most college kids would be at least cool enough to let you inside, maybe not as friendly as her, but that it’s true you’d like it here. he doesn’t want to remind you of what you can’t have.
a silence falls over the two of you, punctuated only by the shuffling of your feet or the rustle of clothes. it’s comfortable and easy because you’ve done it a million times before. you don’t have to say anything to agree that you’ll head to the basement where the original murder occured. the both of you stay quiet and light on your feet, sam always peering around corners before rounding them.
in the basement he stops you with a simple finger to his lips. he leans in close to whisper as quietly as he can, “janitor’s here.”
you resist the urge to call said janitor an idiot, because who the hell is going to be cleaning an area in which three of your coworkers have mysteriously died in the past two weeks, but you just nod instead, taking in the way that sam’s eyes look under the dim light.
“wanna wait around til dean calls or warn him?” you ask, equally as quiet. he turns his head to look back around the corner before continuing.
“well, we should warn him, but we can’t use the drunk ruse on an employee. he probably has a radio scanner on him, might even be connected to campus security,” he points out.
“fbi?”
“we look too much like college kids right now,” he reasons.
“right,” you agree, “well then, stupid college kids trying to see a murder scene? we’ll link arms and you can hide the gun behind your back. just so we’re near him til dean burns the bones. hopefully nothing’ll even happen.” it’s as if you jinxed it all in that moment, as the lights immediately begin to flicker, the buzz of electricity filling your ears and a sudden chill filling the air. “nevermind,” you curse, flicking the iron rod back into your hand and barging around the corner, only a hair behind sam.
“way to jinx it,” he grunts.
you just scoff and beg him, “just try not to use the gun.” this time neither of you attempt to hide your presence as your shoes pound against the tile floor.
“no promises,” sam says, the gun up and loaded in front of him.
“what the hell?” the janitor barely has the time to exclaim before he’s thrown against the wall.
“i got it,” you warn sam, eager to avoid gunshots and sprinting full speed towards the apparition, iron rod in front of you. you throw all your weight into reaching the ghost of the young girl before she can flicker out of reach. the iron in your hand makes contact, and she evaporates for the time being. unfortunately for you, your momentum keeps you going, through the space the ghost just occupied and straight into the section of the floor slick with soapy water. with no time to gain any semblance of your balance, you slip and come crashing to the ground. your back hits the floor and the wind gets knocked out of your lungs in the same moment that the iron skitters out of your hand.
you struggle a bit to sit up due to the wetness underneath you, gasping slightly and letting curses fall from your mouth the moment you can speak again.
in a split second reaction, sam shouts your name, his voice inappropriately taught and worried for such a silly accident. he’s by your side in an instant, strong hands pulling you up and his anxious voice asking if you’re alright. you wave him off easily, unconcerned for yourself.
“help him,” you urge, “i’m fine.” but he doesn’t back off nearly as easily as you’d think.
“are you sure, did you hit your head? you couldn’t breathe for a second there,” his hands stay glued to you as he rattles off his concerns, ones that you find utterly unnecessary and unhelpful considering the fact that you’re fine, and the ghost could reappear any second. his strong grip keeps you from bending down to scoop up the iron rod, but you have to wrench yourself away from him when you hear a strangled cry come from the janitor. he whirls around with you to see the ghost with her hands around the janitor’s neck, crushing him against the wall as his feet dangle just above the floor. the iron rod is back in your hand in an instant, but sam’s shotgun lays abandoned on the floor a few feet away.
he dives for the weapon, but with a flick of the ghost’s hand, he’s knocked against the wall with a noise so loud it hurts to hear. before she can pay you attention, you fling the iron towards her, vaporizing her once more. the iron clatters to the ground as the janitor collapses to his knees. you rush towards him, pulling him away from the wall before tugging a container of salt from your jacket’s inside pockets. apologetically, you haul the poor man to his feet, throwing a quick look over your shoulder at sam. he’s groaning painfully, but already moving to get back up.
knowing he’s easily survived worse, you turn your attention back to the janitor, who’s sputtering out confused and incoherent questions about what in the goddamn hell is happening.
“just stay there,” you urge him, too pressed for time to add adequate sympathy to your tone. “stay in the circle and she can’t get you.” with practiced ease, you shake the salt onto the ground with barely enough to make a small, solid ring around the man.
you scoop up the gun from the ground, then turn to help sam onto his feet. “we’re gonna have to tough this out til dean gets done,” is all you say when you place the weapon into his hands, despite the urge to ask what the hell is wrong with him and why he’s so off his game. you turn to grab your own weapon, but it seems the ghost is reappearing faster and faster. this time, you’re the one who gets tossed into the wall, but you stay pressed against the cold surface as a mop flies to meet you, the long handle pushing against your throat and cutting off your air supply. you take in a strangled gasp, hands clawing at the old wooden handle and giving yourself a few splinters that you couldn’t care less about in the moment. of course, it doesn’t budge.
the second you’re flattened against the wall, sam shouts your name again, this time with his gun in the air, swinging around to get a shot at the ghost. but before he can react, it flies out of his hand and she reappears right in front of him, pushing him against the wall across from you.
he struggles against her wildly, his hand itching to get free of her hold to reach the hidden iron knife in his pocket. but before he can get there, her grip weakens and she lets out a strangled scream as she bursts into flames. the flames climb up her old fashioned pencil skirt and swallow up the bloody wound in her abdomen. her grip on you and sam falters as she burns away, then dissolves completely as the last of her ashes fade out into the musty basement air.
you drop to your knees, coughing and gasping for breath as the sound of the mop clattering to the floor echoes through the hallway. sam’s saying your name, half through a cough and his voice still so worried as he stumbles towards you. then he’s on his knees too and his hands are sturdy on your shoulders.
“‘m fine,” you rasp out, hand reaching for his bicep to ground you to something solid and steady. he stays right there, completely ignoring the poor man who’s still practically frozen in fear in the tiny circle of salt and the ringing of his phone. one of his hands slips around you to rub soothing strokes up and down your back and it brings you even closer to him, your forehead dipping to rest on his shoulder. you feel silly for how much he’s fussing over you, but you can’t quite scold or question him until you’ve caught your breath. clearly something is bothering him (and you want him so bad), so you let him hold you close.
“are you hurt anywhere?” he finally asks once he feels your breathing even out under his touch.
you pull away from him gently, shaking your head before verbally confirming, “no, i’m alright sam. nothing more than your typical bumps and bruises.” your voice is a touch raspy from the pressure on your throat, but it’s nothing that won’t go away with some water and rest, maybe some tea if really necessary.
his hands stay on you as he stands. “are you sure?” he asks, and you can’t figure out why on earth, heaven, or hell he’s so overly concerned about you. frankly, it’s starting to worry you. and definitely annoy you. all the sudden he’s acting like you’re fragile, like you can’t take care of yourself. things which he should know for a fact aren’t true.
he lets you slip away from his hold as you swoop down to pick up your lost weapons and face the poor janitor.
“sorry about that all. you can step out of the salt now.” he looks at you as if he can’t be sure, and your tone softens a bit. he’s young, probably just a college kid himself. “she’s really gone this time, i promise. you won’t ever have to worry about her again. though, i wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to look for a different job.”
he nods and thanks you, and you tell him to repay the favor by not mentioning you and sam. then, at a pace you certainly can’t blame him for, he scurries away.
“c’mon,” you nod to sam, “we should get out of here. you should also call dean back. he’s probably worried you didn’t answer.” with that, you turn back in the direction of the stairs without looking back at sam, rolling your eyes when your own cell ring. you pick up with a, “we’re fine, dean,” before he can even ask why the hell it took you so long to answer him. he lets out a sigh, half relieved, half annoyed.
“what took ya so long?” he asks anyway.
“had a few bumps in the road since little miss janitor-killer showed up, but we’re fine. neither of us are hurt. would’ya pick us up in the same spot you left us?”
“yeah, ‘course. already on my way, see you crazy kids in five.” with that, he hangs up and you don’t have to glance over your shoulder to feel sam following behind. it’s all just the familiarity of his footsteps, the sound they make, and the pace at which he walks. it’s the particular rustle of his favorite jacket, soft and scratchy sounding all at once. it’s the feeling of his tall figure, his broad chest so close behind you that he’d run right into you if you stopped even for a moment. you debate whether to ask him what the hell is up now or at the motel. for now, the priority is getting out unnoticed, so you clench your jaw a bit and continue in silence because you’re beginning to feel a little angry with him. you think he can feel it, so he stays quiet too, all the way out the dorm and down the street to wait for dean.
it’s not uncommon to be quieter after a hunt is finished because you’re all usually tired and more often than not achey from some toss around or another. but sam can tell there’s something else bothering you tonight. from the way you tilt your shoulder away from him, the distance so nearly imperceptible that only he would notice, he’s willing to bet that he’s that something. and though he doesn’t want to admit it, he thinks he knows why. he just won’t be the first one to say something about it because he’s stubborn, a little prideful, and most of all, too afraid to explain why he’s acting this way.
even so, he just can’t help himself. he hovers near, so near that once you’re settled by the side of the road, you can feel him without actually touching him. you’re tempted to nudge him away, just because of how overprotective he’s acting. you’re also tempted to lean back into his chest because somehow you know his hands wouldn’t waste a second in gathering you up and keeping you closer than ever before. it starts to rain a little bit, soft and almost unnoticable if it weren’t for the new chill in the air. for a moment, you can feel one hand hover over your waist, just for a second before there’s a light swish of fabric when it falls back to his side. you wonder if he’s worried about you getting too cold.
you hear dean before you see him, the rumble of the impala coming into earshot moments before its headlights appear around the corner. the car slows as it nears you, pulling to the side of the road with the front windows down and some classic rock guitar riff filtering into your ears. the music’s quieter than you know it was just moments ago from when dean was alone. he greets you two with a simple, “hey,” once he’s fully stopped and you place your hand out, palm up and wordlessly asking for sam to hand you the rifle to put in the trunk.
“i got it,” he says, not waiting for you to argue when he takes the iron from the loose grip of your fist and makes his way to the trunk. you slide into the back seat behind the passengers side and return dean’s greeting.
he twists in his seat to watch you as you close your eyes and massage your shoulder with a wince. it’s beginning to become more sore, just like all the rest of your body.
“you okay?” he asks, voice full of his normal gruffness that tells you cares enough to ask but knows not to be too worried.
you open your eyes back up to give him a nod. “‘m fine. just the usual ghost beat down. y’know, bumps and bruises.”
“mm, sure do,” he agrees, “so what? dearly departed marissa thought you were janitors?” he asks skeptically. you hear the slam of the trunk, and moments later sam’s settling into his seat in front of you.
“no,” you scoff, “some idiot kid was actually cleaning down there. told ‘im to get a new job,” you snort humorlessly.
“well, i’ll say,” dean raises his eyebrows in agreement before twisting back to face the wheel. he sneaks a look between you and sam before switching the car out of park and getting back on the road. for a few minutes, all you hear is the muted music, the constant roll of the engine, the light patter of rain on the metal roof, and the road under the tires. then dean switches off the music. “anything happen back there that i should know about?” he ventures.
“no,” sam answers casually, “nothing, just the usual.” you don’t even answer. you just can’t figure out if you should involve dean, tell him how sam was unthinking and almost entirely uncaring about the innocent civilian involved, all because he was so worried about you.
“alright,” dean concedes, glancing at you through the rearview mirror and sounding entirely unconvinced. he doesn’t turn the music back on, just lets the silence reign, so you close your tired eyes and lean your head against the cold glass of the window. you’ve fallen asleep in the back of the impala countless times before, but your drowsiness doesn’t take over this time in favor of letting your mind wander over what to say to sam. you can’t just let it be, and tonight is certainly the worst it’s gotten. plus, it’s an easy habit for you to wait for sleep when you’re already so close to the motel.
when dean pulls into the parking lot, he doesn’t turn off the engine. “gonna grab some grub. i’ll be back in a bit with the usual.”
“grab me something for dessert, will ya? ‘m craving something sweet,” you request, leaning towards the driver’s seat.
“sure thing,” he nods, and you slide out of the car and close the door after a thank you and tired smile. “anything for you, sammy?” you hear him ask.
“i’m good, just the regular,” sam responds as he exits the car. you unlock the motel door, and he’s inside the room just a moment later, closing and locking the entrance behind him. you stand facing away from him at the shitty table, your jacket already strewn across the back of a chair. you can hear him behind you, going through his routine movements. he’s taking off his jacket, setting it down on the edge of the bed. then he’s pulling comfier clothes out from his pack.
“you wanna shower first?” he offers, breaking the silence of the room. you can feel his gaze on your back.
“sure,” you swallow, “thanks,” you say without any sort of edge to your voice.
“‘f course,” he says, and he means that. his eyes follow you as you pull out your own change of clothes, just a tshirt and sweats, and make your way to the dingy bathroom. you’re tired, so you’re quick with it, but the water’s already lukewarm by the time you’re done. you dry off and dress quick, eager to lay in bed.
and yet, when sam takes your place in the bathroom and the sounds of the shower start up again, you sit at the table instead, picking out a few splinters in your hands before folding your arms and resting your head against them. you stay that way, even when you hear the water turn off, the bathroom door open, his heavy footfalls that are only heavy because he’s so tall and not for lack of gentleness, then the scraping of the chair across from you. he doesn’t even say a thing, just looks at the top of your head and the tip of your nose. the shape of your hands, the point of your elbows, and the curve of your back.
with a deep breath and some pain in your neck, you lift your head. you look back at him and slump your chin into your palm.
“i’m upset with you,” you state.
he frowns. even his frown is pretty. “i know,” he sighs.
“so? why are you acting like this?” your voice is tired, but you still manage to infuse accusation into your tone, “sam, why are you suddenly acting like i can’t take care of myself out there? you’ve been weird for nearly two weeks now, and i don’t like it. i don’t like this.”
sam doesn’t know how to respond. he’s used to being yelled at, shouted at, angry at. he’s used to yelling and shouting and getting angry back. and though he’s certainly fought with you before, he’s still not used to the level tone and the way you say each word so slow, like you’re not actually arguing. just upset and rightfully a little angry, like you just want to understand.
sure, he can hear the plain anger in your voice. you’re not trying to hide it. but you’re not yelling. how’s he supposed to use the heat of the moment to shout back, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” or “i’m just trying to help,” when there is no heat in the moment? instead, he’s embarrassed and the only answer he can come up with, the only one that he can mean if he answers in that same, level tone you’re using is, one he’s having too much trouble saying aloud. any other answer would just be too wrong like that. or maybe if you were shouting, he’d tell you the truth, because he could yell it out, loud and rash without thinking about it. if he says it now, it’s not because he just let it slip. if he says it now, there’s no way to take it back, to get around everything threatening to bubble over the surface like forgotten water on a heated stove.
“i don’t think that you can’t take care of yourself. i know you can,” is all he says, because it’s true and it skirts around the real questions. his voice is rough, halfway between pleading and holding back from the anger he doesn’t yet know how to control. you heave a sigh.
“so why, sam? why?” you let the heavy question stew for a moment, then go on when he doesn’t even meet your gaze, “or, i don’t know, if you’re not gonna tell me, just promise me you’ll stop?”
he clenches his jaw because he knows he can’t. he just wishes you would shout. then, he’d tell you. he can imagine the words coming out of his mouth, but only if they’re loud, only if you’ve pressured him to do it. he realizes that’s probably fucked up. but the other way is too vulnerable, too vast of a leap to take to when he’s just not sure.
“sam,” you press, “you don’t have to worry about me, i swear. i don’t understand what’s got you like this, but it’s getting in the way of you being able to do your job right. that kid could have died because all you could do was worry about me,” that’s when you begin you raise your voice, just a little. because that’s what’s making you most upset about this. you hate it ‘cause you feel like he’s doubting your abilities as a hunter, but you hate it even more because it’s making him disregard the safety of others and of himself, for you. “sam, i only slipped. sure i got the wind knocked out of me, but you dropped your gun for that? frankly, that was stupid. and the poor kid was being choked, and if i hadn’t been lucky enough to throw the iron before she could react, he could have died. i need you to understand that. i need you to understand that i can do this job, that i’m strong enough, and that if you don’t trust me with that? people could die. and i’m not about to let that happen. so either you tell me what’s up and we figure it out, or you stop and i pay you the huge favor of just dropping the whole thing, okay?”
suddenly he looks all sad. “i do trust you,” he says, voice all sincerity and nothing more.
you close your eyes for a moment, half in frustration and half because you could really use some shut eye right about now. “that’s not– well, it is. it is part of the point. but i need an answer from you, i need you to tell me you won’t let whatever this is put somebody else in danger.”
he clenches his jaw. he’s still stuck. you still haven’t shouted.
“just spit it out. i can practically see something rolling around on the tip of your tongue. just say it, sam.”
there’s an edge to your voice, so maybe he can.
“i can’t lose you.”
there it is. it’s said with an edge, too, like he wanted to shout it but couldn’t. it’s said rough and a little bit angry and full of this undying faithfulness and yes, love.
but you still don't quite understand it, so it makes you sigh. it makes your eyes soften a bit and it makes you a little angrier than before. it makes you want him to mean that with all his chest and it makes you want to shake him hard until he comes to his senses.
“that’s always been a danger, ever since we met. you know that,” your voice is something so oddly gentle in its frustration, “sammy, you’re my best friend, and i can’t lose you either. hell, i don’t think the words “best friend” even begin to cover the depth of how much i care about you. but we’ll both be safer if we trust each other, if we trust in both of our abilities to keep ourselves and the other safe. tell me that you understand that.”
it takes him a minute to speak again, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he searches for what to say. “two weeks ago,” is all he manages at first. you try to think back to it, and it immediately dawns on you. “i couldn’t prote–”
“sammy, no,” you interrupt, “that wasn’t your fault, okay? i know this doesn’t help to say, but we can’t always protect each other perfectly, to the extent we really want. i’d do anything for you, sammy, you know that.” after that there’s supposed to be a “but” where you explain to him that you can’t let that get in the way of your thinking straight and keeping everyone safe. instead, those last words just hang, suspended and weighty in the air.
“but you could’ve been killed,” the way he says your name is almost desperate. “it was dean that saved you. i was there and i couldn’t even help. what if next time, dean isn’t there? what if–,” his voice breaks, and he effectively cuts himself off from finishing the sentence. you know what he was trying to say.
any answer you give to that, you know isn’t enough. “but i wasn’t killed, sam. i’m here. i’m right here and i’m alive and i’m well and i don’t want to spend all my time worrying about you worrying about me. not like this.” you let that sit for a moment or two, and though his eyebrows are still all sad and pinched together, you think you’re starting to get through to him.
“but i can’t lose you,” he repeats stubbornly.
“sam,” you’re practically begging at this point, frustration creeping back into your voice, “the best way for you to keep me safe from ghosts and monsters and everything else is to take care of the problem, efficiently and effectively, like we always do. if there’s no monster, it can’t hurt me. but if you drop your weapon just because i slipped on soapy floors and lost my breath for a second? then it’s not just you and whatever innocent bystander around who’s more vulnerable now, it’s me too. so if that’s what it’s gonna take for me to convince you to stop fussing over me, then, please, think about it like that.”
sam is smart. he loves logic and reason, and you’ve handed him just that. but even more than that, he loves you. in the end, that trumps all.
“but i love you.”
he says it like a plea. like he didn’t mean to say it at all but it was the only thing running through his mind, and therefore, the only thing running off his tongue.
“sammy,” you breathe out, and then it’s like there’s no more air for you to breathe back in. that sweet nickname of his coming out of your mouth, resting on your tongue before tumbling into the air, is half like a drug to him, half like a bitter wind to sober him up quick.
“i– i only meant that i–,” he meant just that and now it’s said and now he’s never going to take it back, even if you hate him for it. “i meant that,” he says it firm and true this time, “i love you, so i can’t lose you.”
the way he looks at you, right into your eyes like they’re the prettiest things he’s ever seen, like you’re the best thing he’s ever had, oh, it has you hooked like bait has a fish who bit down too hard. it has you praying he never looks at anybody else like that again. it has you rising out of your seat and it’s pulling you across the small, wobbly table. he’s wedged into the grooves of your heart, so deep it could kill you to pull him out, so you follow the tug and he leans in too so the line isn’t so taught, so that it’s easy and comfortable and beautiful to reach his lips.
his hands are like a net that catches you up in big, lovely swaths. they travel from your own hands, that lean against the table to keep your lips pressed to his, up to your elbows and then he knows he can never get enough. so he pushes up out of his own seat, drags his hands further up your arms until they can wrap around your biceps and push you up. not for a moment does he let his lips leave yours as he stands and pulls the both of you away from the table until he can bring you close, right into his wide, warm chest. then his hands can roam, gentle over your sensitive back, up to your neck then the back of your head to push your face into his. the other hand gets to go from your waist to your hips, or dip to the small of your back and press you flush to him.
you can only get away from him for a second, just enough time to whisper, “i love you, too,” before he swallows you back up. you melt right into him, and he loves it so much, but he feels how tired you are and he remembers he is too. so he only kisses you for a minute longer before letting your head rest on his shoulder. without any reservation, he presses a long kiss to your temple and you sigh a sweet sigh into his worn out tshirt.
unwilling to let go, he waddles with you, all bundled up into his arms, to the edge of the bed. without warning, he collapses into it, taking you right down with him and pulling out a little shriek from your mouth that he finds to be nothing short of endearing. he laughs, a belly laugh that you can feel the vibrations of as it moves up into his chest and out of those pretty lips of his. with some struggle to readjust yourself, you press a sweet peck to those lips. another easy i love you.
then you collapse back into his hold and the low quality plush of the motel bed. “now promise me you’ll pull yourself together next time we get a case?” this time your ask is so much more lighthearted, sweeter because it’s mumbled into the skin of his arm. you mean it just as much, but you can’t help the fact that you feel like you’re floating, “now i really, really can’t have you getting us in trouble. i’ll need to be able to kiss you at any given moment, so you have to promise me that you’ll trust me to take care of myself. because it works, and you know it. it’s the safest way. for both of us.”
the sigh he heaves can be felt through practically your whole body. it’s heavier than you wish it’d be, but he relaxes against you just a bit more. “i know,” he relents, “i’ll do my best, okay?”
“thank you,” you breathe out, too relieved to care that he couldn’t quite promise. you know this all means he’ll just be more protective of you, but you can say the same for yourself. now that you’ve kissed him and he’s told you he loves you and you’ve said it back, right against his lips, you’ll worry about him extra. but the both of you know the best ways to keep each other alive, and that has to be enough for you. you allow yourself to snuggle closer into him before joking, “d’you think dean’s ever gonna come back?”
you feel sam’s quiet laugh more than you hear it. “yeah, he really did us a favor with that one, didn’t he?” you can hear the smile in his voice before he remembers himself, “do not tell him i said that.” having you in his arms like this has got him a little giddy, saying things aloud that he normally wouldn’t.
letting out a laugh of your own, you promise, “i won’t. but i’m starting to get hungry. maybe we should call him and tell him the coast is clear, we didn’t tear the room to shreds or anything like that.”
sam chuckles again, and you decide very quickly that you like the way it feels for him to laugh with you so close. neither of you move, not to get a phone to call dean or to stop yourselves from growing drowsy. not for anything.
you’re half asleep when you hear the familiar sound of the impala’s engine near the room. it turns off, then comes the sound of its front door being open and shut. just because you’re hungry and it spells the arrival of food, you force your eyes open and let out a groan when you wiggle your arms out of sam’s hold to stretch. the way his hands shift to your waist as you do so has you a bit flustered and you wonder if you’re supposed to pretend in front of dean that you haven’t spent the last half hour kissing and cuddling. but sam doesn't seem to care, because he just sits up when the door’s lock clicks, one hand by your head to hold him up, the other still settled decidedly on your waist. so you decide not to care either, and turn your head around to accidentally grin at dean when he peeks his head through the door. you had meant to look casual, but the second someone else becomes a witness to the fact that you’re laying together like this, you’re beaming.
dean visibly relaxes when he takes in the sight, pushing the door all the way open to walk in, then lock the door back up behind him.
“hey, there,” is all he says, shooting the both of you a look that says, really, you’re just gonna keep sitting there like that in front of me? it’s not that bad, but he’s allowed to tease because he just turned a twenty minute food trip into an hour purely for yours and sam’s sake. you clear your throat awkwardly, and only when you sit up does sam’s hand fall away from you.
you pad over to the table as dean places the paper bag of fast food on the surface. he drags over an extra mismatched chair and sam follows close behind you, pulling the remaining chair to sit beside you. as you begin to pull food out from the bag, now clearly gone cold to the touch, dean sits down, complaining that they didn’t have pie, so he bought you two cookies for dessert instead.
“well, thank you for the food anyways,” you smile, hoping he picks up on the fact that you’re thanking him for the other thing too, “damn shame there was no pie, though,” you say, more for his sake than yours. you wonder why he didn’t just pick some up from somewhere else since he was gone so long.
“mhmm, and don’t sweat about the pie. just got a slice somewhere else,” he shrugs, “ate it in the car, there was only one slice left and i didn’t want you to feel like you were missing out,” he explains with that familiar teasing edge which makes you think he indeed caught onto the double meaning of your thanks. you let out a small huff of laughter before tearing into the food, only now realizing just how hungry you are. you’d felt it creep up on you on the car ride back, smiled at the mention of food from dean, even stupidly thought about it during a quiet moment in the argument with sam. but the second your lips found his, that was the only hunger you’d felt. to keep kissing him, to keep him close, keep him loving you. only when you settled all the way into his arms, sure that you’d be able to satiate that hunger again, could your body remember you hadn’t eaten since early this afternoon.
the three of you eating like this, late at night and without much conversation, is common and comfortable. dean is on what you assume to be his second burger, because there’s no way he’d have just sat in the car, probably parked in a random lot and wondering how long he should be gone, and just waited to eat an extra-bacon burger until he came back. sam’s nearly the same as always, too, but tonight he sits so close that his forearm brushes against yours. you bump elbows or knees every so often, and the side of his socked foot is pressed against yours the entire time.
you sigh, content with the nearness of him that’s so much more complete and full than it was just hours ago. now, there’s no need to hover. now, you can just swoop in and land, take what you want, give what the other needs.
dean makes no teasing comments, but you can feel the way he’s been examining, reading the two of you. you’re not sure if you’re supposed to say something aloud, but you know that he knows the two of you so well that he understands almost exactly what must’ve happened while he was gone. maybe he’s not teasing because this is the outcome he wanted to come back to. he probably knows better than the both of you how you were crushing, pining even, over the other.
he takes his turn in the shower when he finishes his food, and you and sam begin to clean up a few minutes later. once all the trash is crumbled up and tossed away, you go around and turn off all the lights but a single bedside lamp. as you turn away from clicking off the lamp in the corner of the room, sam’s right there in front of you. you don’t have the time to be startled by him sneaking up on you, he’s so quick to cup your face with his hands and slot his lips against yours. he lingers a long moment before pulling apart just enough to rest his forehead on yours.
“gonna kiss you forever,” he whispers, and you realize you’ve turned this giant man into a complete and utter sap.
“you better.” your grin is wide and real and he can almost feel your lips moving, he’s so close. just as you’re ready to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him hard, the steady white noise of the shower shuts off. you sigh and laugh a little, leaning in to steal one more chaste kiss before brushing past him. but he turns with you, hands still warm on your cheeks and not letting go until he’s kissed you once more.
when dean’s gone from the bathroom, sam follows you in to brush his teeth with you. you’ve done so plenty of times, but tonight, sam gets to loop his free arm around your waist and pull you into him, rather than stand shoulder to shoulder in the cramped space. he gets to make you giggle through toothpaste when he does so, and you get to switch your toothbrush to your other hand and wrap your own arm around his waist, too. he gets to make you laugh dangerously harder when he tightens his hold on you to prevent you from bending and spitting into the sink when you’re done. you try to hold back the laughter with your mouth full of toothpaste, then he’s the one laughing around his toothbrush because there’s white, foamy spit rolling down your chin from the corner of your mouth and threatening to drip to your dark-colored tshirt. of course, he lets you spit and rinse your mouth, relishing in the continued sound of your laughter.
“you asshole! almost ruined my shirt til the next time we make a laundry stop!” you take revenge as he rinses out his own mouth, splashing the running water onto his face as he swishes water around in his mouth.
he spits the water out in surprise and sputters an indignant, “hey!” before he bursts into laughter again.
you’re both giddy, high off of kissing each other, and silly from the exhaustion of a hunt, so he tugs you into him by your hips and keeps laughing into the crook of your neck. you wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers up through his soft, newly washed hair. you kiss the closest thing you can reach and he melts right into your arms.
it’s only when you yawn that he pulls away from you. “we should get to bed, huh?”
you nod and twist towards the door, peeking through it to see dean sleeping in his bed, his still form highlighted by the warm light of the cheap lamp. taking sam’s hand with a shy smile, you lead him to the other bed, turning off the last light and climbing under the covers with him not far behind. he loops his arm under your head, then the other over your waist to splay his hand flat across the small of your back. the way he does it is exactly the way you wished he would, as if he’s thought about holding you like this every night you share a bed, just as you had. with a final glance towards dean, he kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.
you try to stifle the giggle that the soft, ticklish contact of his lips wants to pull from your chest, praying that dean is really as asleep as he looks. the both of you stiffen a bit when you hear dean’s blankets rustling, but you let out another breathy, quiet laugh when it goes silent again.
sam’s about to kiss you all over again when dean’s voice rings out into the hush of the night, startling you both.
“no shenanigans while i’m asleep, lovebirds,” he grunts.
that brings more laughter out of your lips and a rush of heat to your face that you’re sure sam feels, too. he just groans in annoyance at his brother, because of course dean had to get in at least one borderline dirty comment. neither of you really answer as dean shifts around in his bed again, likely turning his back to you and mumbling something mostly unintelligible.
the only word you can catch is “finally.”
#sam winchester x reader#sam x reader#sam winchester x gn!reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester headcanon#sam winchester fic#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester oneshot#spn fanfiction#supernatural oneshot#sam winchester imagine#supernatural sam winchester#sam winchester fluff#spn sam winchester#supernatural#supernatural requests#supernatural fluff#sam winchester supernatural#supernatural x reader#spn fanfic
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I came back from the movie theaters (Fnaf Movie) My lord I FREAKING LOVED IT THE WHOLE THING IDC AHHH Ahem-
I saw that requests are open, SO a Platonic Headcanon Request if you don't mind, Fnaf (Movie) Animatronics with Gender-Neutral (17-soon to be 18) Reader as the new security guard? or maybe tags with Mike and possibly Abby? (Reader ain't tall just-idk 5'2 maybe I am projecting-)
(I know this request doesn't make sense because of the tiredness due to staying up late because of excitement. Feel free to delete this ask if its too complicated)
bonus: If you want to, You can also Include Chica's Cupcake
Have a nice day/night, From 📞 ☕ (PhoneCoffee) Anon
Oh I can definitely work with this ^^
......
When you started working at Freddy's overnight, you hoped this would be your last summer job ever before you turned 18.
"Steve" said it was all pretty straightforward: watch the cameras and make sure nobody broke in.
Easy as pizza pie, right?
Well, when you realized one of the animatronics very subtly moved from their usual spot, you wanted to check them out for yourself.
Plus, sitting in the office for six hours every night would def get boring as hell.
So you head to the main stage area, finding the whole gang mysteriously gone--Foxy included.
Then you get surprised by them emerging from different places in the pizzeria, eyes glowing a sinister yellow as they surround you, wary of your intentions.
"O-Oh hey..um..Fazgang?" You try your best not to look so terrified.
Surely someone was controlling them, right? They couldn't possibly hurt you.
Yet they stop and collectively realize "wait, isn't this a teenager? And why are they working this job??"
But since you're not wrecking anything in the pizzeria (or screaming bloody murder unlike the last guard), they spare you and are just very chill overall.
You now start to believe all the rumors of them being haunted by little children.....although not even that scares you.
On the second night, you learn that they can understand simple drawings--and that's how you pretty much communicate with them and build up trust.
While Bonnie is regarded as the "most aggressive", he was a real sweetheart who let you shine his guitar and hugged you tightly to express his thanks.
Alas you haven't found a way to stop it from constantly short-circuiting when he strums it...but you vow to figure something out.
Chica was equally as sweet, although for some reason Carl the Cupcake made you feel nervous.
The way he can be on the plate one moment and then disappear the next makes you worried that he'll sneak up on you and bite your ankles off.
But as long as Chica's around, that won't ever happen.
Although Foxy looks quite dangerous, you try your best to patch up the hole in his chest using some spare parts from backstage while being oblivious to the deadly Freddy mask saw trap in the corner, something he's grateful for.
He even sang you a little sea shanty as thanks!
Freddy was the first to be suspicious of you, but after seeing a drawing you made of him, he grows to like your presence, too. Especially after how nice you've been to his bandmates.
So you definitely survived more than five nights at this place--longer than anyone so far.
When Mike gets hired and comes in for his first shift with you, he's surprised that a teen is training him.
He suspects this was some lousy summer job you were forced to get and thinks you're gonna act miserable the entire time you work together and not actually teach him shit.
But as it turns out, you love your job!
You show him the Fazgang during their "showtime" performance and assure him that while they may look creepy, they're not bad at all.
And while you're not getting paid extra to do simple maintenance on them, you still enjoy trying to keep them in tip-top shape (especially Foxy, who needs repairs the most).
Mike seriously thinks you shouldn't be doing that as it's not in the job description AND it could be dangerous.
Even if you have expertise in robotics, he still thinks it's not worth losing a limb or finger to those complex contraptions.
Like he almost did after getting near a springlock suit.
But you just teasingly remind him who the trainer is..and he goes quiet.
Foxy overhears this, and you see him snickering from behind the Pirate's Cove curtain, amused by you basically schooling this 25-27 year old man.
Unfortunately he startled poor Mike, who looks over quickly.....only to find the fox standing in his usual position, acting completely normal.
"Was he just laughing at us...?"
"Nope." You play dumb, shrugging. "Must be his voice box malfunctioning....c'mon. Let's see if we can fix that."
Least to say, you're not gonna let him sleep on the job anytime soon.
#clanask#phone coffee anon#fnaf x reader#five nights at freddy's x reader#fnaf movie x reader#fnaf movie spoilers#platonic#teen reader#mike schmidt#freddy fazbear#bonnie the bunny#chica the chicken#foxy the pirate#headcanons
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aahghh i'm happy that your requests r open :33 i want to ask for a Jinwoo x sleepy male/gn reader.. basically the reader falls asleep somewhere but always wake up in the most random places. Bellion has found them sleeping somewhere in the shadow realm more than once and no one knows how they got there. it's actually concerning-
this can either platonic or romantic idc rly
take care!
Solo Leveling: Sleepy Bois are Cute Too!
Summary: 3 times that Jinwoo caught his partner falling asleep on him, and the one time he didn’t. Not in any particular order.
In which Jinwoo is worried, but you reassure him every time.
Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x sleepy GN! reader
Note: Last one for 2023! Will be back in the new year :)
Warning: None. Just fluffy goodness.
★・・・・・・★
Jinwoo is worried about your sleeping antics.
He’s worried that when you fall asleep, he will never find you again.
He took all the precautions, making sure there was a shadow soldier by your side when you fall asleep, keeping a tracker on you (with your consent of course!), and even taking you on his missions to ensure you don’t disappear on him.
“Jinwoo-ah, don’t worry, I can protect myself.”
Sure, you were an A-class weapon maker, and yes, you knew how to use your weapons well, but no matter how much you reassure him, Jinwoo is a protective person by nature, knowing how dangerous the world can be.
He also knows how dedicated you are to your craft, spending days on end without sleep or food to create S-class grade weapons for the world to marvel at.
But it was only more of a reason for him to protect you from those greedy hunters and associations!
Perhaps that was where your sleeping habits stem from, the lack of sleep.
It didn’t start off this way, as at the beginning of your relationship, Jinwoo found you cute for dozing off like a baby.
It was during a movie night, where the two of you cuddled on the bed, and holding each others’ hands. You dozed off very shortly after the movie began, and Jinwoo couldn’t help but pull you closer into a hug.
Loving your warmth and the peace you bring, Jinwoo easily fell asleep by your side.
Only to wake up with you not by his side.
In panic, he rushed around the shared home to find you, only to get a call from his sister, and see you at his mom’s house. Apparently, Jinah found you sleeping in Jinwoo’s old room.
“It happens sometimes…but don’t worry! I’m usually safe.” Your reassurance didn’t make Jinwoo feel any better about it.
The next time, it was when the two of you were bathing together.
Jinwoo hummed, satisfied and relaxed, as you washed his hair, scratched his head, and massaged his shoulders. Your voice was soothing, as you told him about your next weapon idea.
Until suddenly, he felt a hard knock onto his back, making him turn around quickly to see you dozing off.
He withheld a snicker before he switched your positions, and had you lay on him.
“(Y/N), how could you sleep in the middle of doing something?” Jinwoo whispered, and although he gently rocked your body, he didn’t bother trying to wake you.
Jinwoo made sure you were comfortable, and finished the bath, before carrying you like a princess to your shared bed.
“Jinwoo?” Your slurred words made him smile, and he placed a kiss on your forehead.
“Bedtime, your favourite time is here.”
“Yay~” Your dopey smile made him happy as he covered the both of you with a blanket. Jinwoo snuggled close, and this time, made sure to hold you tight, so you wouldn’t disappear on him again.
Your little snores, and light breathing lured him to sleep.
The next day, you were gone.
This time, he searched the home, and even checked with his mom and sister, but nothing.
This time, he panicked, and immediately searched everywhere for you.
Like a parent who lost their child, he searched far and wide, until he found you sleeping on top of the Korean Hunters Association’s building. He immediately hugged you close, waking you up from your drowsy state.
“Jinwoo? What’s wrong?” You who have just woken up from your long sleep didn’t understand why Jinwoo was hugging you so desperately. You patted his back as you rested your head on his shoulder.
“Are you okay? How did you even get up here?”
“What are you talking about-” Finally registering your current location, you were shocked.
“This isn’t our home.”
When Jinwoo registered your confusion, then acceptance (almost too easily), he couldn’t help but feel helpless. If you didn’t know how you got here, and he didn’t sense your disappearance twice in a row, Jinwoo knew he had to be careful.
This was when you and him talked of the dangers and of the precautions you should take to ensure your safety.
One time, Jinwoo had a nightmare.
Of the times where he was still an E-class hunter, where he was still weak, poor, and helpless.
Of the times where he had nothing to his name, but only shame and disappointment.
He felt powerless, feeling the shadow of a cold blade cutting into his flesh and warm blood spill from his body.
“Jinwoo!”
He woke up to you calling his name and wiping his face.
“Jinwoo! Are you okay-” Jinwoo hugged you tightly, knocking the air out of your lungs for a moment, as he inhaled your scent.
He then noticed you wearing his hoodie, clearly oversized for you, and your messy bed hair.
Then he remembers you, who had taught him how to use different weapons, and how to not get scammed by weapon dealers.
From then till now, you have supported him, and he has found your talent in return.
“There there, my little king.” Jinwoo smiled as he felt little pats to his back, and kissed the crook of your neck.
“Thank you, (Y/N).”
“Always.”
The next time, when you disappeared, Jinwoo knew where you were immediately.
He didn’t panic, nor did he fret, though this time, he really did question your abilities as an A-class weapon maker.
Were you really an A-class hunter at this point?
Jinwoo observed, perplexed, as you once again emerged from an unexpected slumber, this time in the shadow realm.
With a yawn, you flipped to the other side on the throne, and without any sense of danger, you curlled into a ball, and fell asleep again.
Jinwoo quickly went over to you on the throne, and picked you up, before sitting down and placing you in his lap. He made sure you were comfortable before he looked to Bellion for any explanation.
“My Liege, I…have no excuses. I was unable to sense any changes in the shadow realm and was unable to find out how Their Highness was able to arrive here.”
Bellion, equally puzzled, knelt before the two of you, ashamed.
“Bellion, stand. It’s not your fault. Even I can't sense when they disappear. But keep others updated on the situation.” Bellion nodded, before standing and leaving you two space.
"How does this keep happening?" Jinwoo asked, and sighed, concern etching onto his face. Even so, he caressed your cheek, and woke you from your slumber.
Like a cat, he saw you scrunch up your face, and even pushed his finger away, before popping open one eye.
“Jinwoo? Where am I now?” It became a habit of yours now to observe your surroundings every time you woke up.
“In my realm, in my castle, and on my throne.”
“Huh.” It took a moment for you to process.
“How did I get here?”
“No idea. But I'd rather have you here than outside.”
“Well. This is new.” You ruffled your messy bed hair, before a hand pulled your chin back to face Jinwoo.
“You were sleeping on my throne…were you thinking of me?” Jinwoo’s hand slowly cradled your face as he stared at you with intent.
“Maybe?” You cheekily answered, before replicating the same action back. However, you steal a quick little peck to the corner of his lips.
In the next moment, his mouth lands on yours passionately, completely taking your breath away as he pulls you in further and further, until you’re completely at his mercy.
Pinned to his throne, wearing his oversized black silk pajamas, and puffy lips, you realize that maybe you should learn to control your sleep antics.
#manhwa#gn reader#solo leveling#sung jinwoo#shadow soldiers#bellion#jinwoo#sung jin woo x reader#sung jinah#solo leveling headcanons#solo leveling fic#s class#sung jin woo x gn reader
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as a Floyd enjoyer
I do read a LOT of octotrio posts.
Like a lot
so, as a yandere writer
time for yandere octotrio headcanons!
a lot of this will probably tie in for my ideas for my self insert and yandere posts I’ve written in the past!
it’s hard to say who was interested in you first. Either Azul was interested and sent the tweels on you, or the tweels were interested in you and then got azul interested and then azul sent the tweels on you, all I can say for certain is that at some point, someone is interested, and you get the tweels sent on you.
So you got the tweels following you around now. The two have different ways of studying. Floyd, of course, is more hands on. Jade typically stays back, taking EXTENSIVE mental notes. He mostly only gets involved when he can tell Floyd is getting a bit too… much for any one person to handle.
of course, then you have to deal with TWO tweels, and idc who you are, dealing with BOTH of them is way more to handle than just one of them. Like, one tweel is like 100%, but when those fuckers are working together it’s like at least 110%.
but… you seem to handle them really well somehow??
so whether it was Azul who was interested first, or they were interested from the very start, safe to say they are VERY interested in you now.
The tweels, despite being chaotic neutral at best (chaotic evil at worst) are still pretty goddamn loyal to Azul. So they eagerly report back to him (either to convince him or further convince him, again, doesn’t matter)
then this is where it gets really fun (for me)
I love the octotrio, and what I especially love is the mix of platonic and romantic. Like, ofc Floyd and Jade are purely familial. But when it comes to their relationship with Azul, it’s the kind of platonic that so fucking seamlessly shifts into romantic that no one is sure when it turned, and also no one cares. The octotrio blend so fucking seamlessly with each other, that they could even be purely platonic with each other, it could be less romance and more family, but an outsider would never fucking know or understand that. THE OCTOTRIO RELATIONSHIP/S ARE SO FUCKIN NOM NOM NOM I’M DEVOURING IT —
Ahem
anyway
point is, whether octotrio is a romantic poly or just three really fucking close friends, they all look at you and go “that one, we want that one.” And they don’t even have to vocally announce they want to share you, it is understood. There is no “all in favor say aye,” after a few times of the tweels reporting back to Azul they’re just all agreed “yes, this one is ours now, we are taking them for the seafood polycule.”
calamari, unagi, and shrimp, yum yum
ANYWAY
Expect the tweels on yo ass even more than before. Not only that, but they are FULLY embracing their statuses as fucking terrifying menaces to keep all your icky clingy friends away
Suddenly they’re paying extra close attention to your flaws. All of which they find endlessly endearing, what they’re really looking for is a chance to snap.
an insecurity, a life ending mistake, anything to get a chance to whisper in your ear that you need special help. Or maybe they’ll even use the fact they’re living up to their name and stick to you like leeches to convince you you need to talk to Azul
maybe you’re strong, maybe you can’t be fully convinced. Maybe once they do bring you to Azul (trust me, they will) you decide “nope, I’m out.” Thing is though, once they get you there, it’s already decided. Azul will know exactly how to trap you, exactly what to do to get you to come back, or even better, stay.
if you’re in Yuu’s shoes, I imagine he’d be willing to let you AND Grim live in the lounge. To make it less suspicious, he’ll probably say you have to work, or that he gets to use Ramshackle. Something to make sure you’re not suspicious why he’s suddenly so hospitable. But really, ramshackle or service are not what he’s after. Obviously. No, he needs you there, with them.
I don’t even really have to get into what these guys do as yanderes, since most students are already pretty frightened by the tweels. And now that they have someone to ‘protect’? HO BOI, do they REALLY give the student body to fear.
and if they get past Jade and Floyd, then there’s Azul, who will bribe or blackmail until they leave their darling alone.
yeah, sorry to say, once they have you in their sights, it’s pm over for you.
Doesn’t matter who saw you first, cuz you were doomed from the start either way.
GENERAL OCTOTRIO + READER HEADCANONS ❤️
Pleeeasassse I cannot get the image of octotrio dog pile outta my headdd. Azul, Jade, and Floyd are CUDDLY MOTHERFUCKERS, you cannot convince me otherwise. And once they have you, you’re joining. Typically Jade and Floyd both spoon Azul (you can’t convince me otherwise (or maybe you can, let’s talk)), and you’ll likely be sandwiched between Azul and whichever tweel called dibs that night. Or, it’s the true dog pile, where limbs are kind just all over the place. There’s typically a tweel at the bottom (cuz big bois), and that tweel is typically Jade because Floyd insists on being on top, despite his height and weight. And adding you just makes the dog pile feel so much fuller ❤️ (and if you’re one of those people like me who falls asleep better with like weight on top of you… yeah, you are not gonna be awake long enough to protest)
it may take a while for Azul to get comfortable enough to go full octomer on you, especially if you’re a darling who runs away, but once he does trust you enough, he will. And like… come on, I think we as a fandom agree that octo Azul is beautiful/adorable, so of course you do not react negatively to it, even if you’re a stubborn darling.
maybe you’re speechless, and Azul gets flustered and wants to ZOOM back to the surface, but the tweels hold him back, and thank god they do, because even if you aren’t screaming “omg you’re so cute/pretty!!” like I would, you probably mutter it under your breath, just loud enough that he definitely hears (did you know sound moves faster in water?) and he is a blushing cephaloboy. (Bet you didn’t think I’d bring SCIENCE into this, HA)
Suddenly now they’re also snuggling you in the water in med form, because yes these boys cuddle in med form, and you’re one of them now. Can’t breathe in water? Silly, they got magic for that. You are not getting out of this seafood pancake 🫵🫵
you are going to have so many limbs all over you omg. The tweels are trying their damndest to wrap their eel tails around the both of you, and Azul is keeping all of y’all together with his arms
(here’s another science fact, octopus do not have tentacles, those are arms)
AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE BREE—
#Yandere#yandere rambles#yandere headcanons#im really proud of this one ngl#Yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere octotrio#yandere azul ashengrotto#yandere jade leech#yandere floyd leech#yandere octotrio x reader#yandere azul x reader#yandere jade x reader
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Yo! Can i request a Yandere feixiao, Jingliu and Kafka (seperately, non self aware au) x male reader, who is a battle mania and enjoy fighting a little bit too much to the point that it consumes a great mayority of their life and doesn't really look for love or care for it. The reader is a gifted and powerful warrior that all he wants is to fight and grow stronger to the point that they want to fight or beat an Aeon. They learn just about anything tactics, medice and trained with every weapon they get their hands on. Unfournately they don't care about love thus making them dense.
Sure. (Just finished MOC.. okay not really, I have moc 12 left to bet. Also PLEASE!! Send me good luck for my feixiao pulls! Hel, make a deal with the devil even—IDC WHAT YOU DO!! JUST SEND ME LUCK!!! I WANT THIS WOMAN!!!!)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Feixiao
She hates it, god she despises it. Out of anyone in the universe, why did YOU have to be so dedicated to getting stronger.
She respects your dedication, but she fucking hates it. It makes it harder for you to fall for her. But it also makes her more CRAZY for you.
Her hints that go over your head? It doesn’t matter, she’ll just try harder and more blunter next time! Her physical touch simply coming off as platonic? She’ll be more bold.
Whenever you two spar, feixiao would purposely try to break some of your bones as to keep you beside her.
She’d often go for your ribs or knees, just to make it more painful for you if you try to walk away or LEAVE her.
Feixiao would tamper with your weapons before your fights, just so you can get saved by her OR to stop you from beating her anytime soon, which is a fear that’s slowly consuming her.
Feixiao isn’t stupid, she knows you’re extremely gifted in battle, she knows that every battle you slowly manage to get closer to beating her… then… you’ll leave her…
She’ll be useless, just another strong person who you fought! Just another step towards your goal… no, she won’t allow that to become reality.
Feixiao’s insanity for you completely overtakes her one night. She couldn’t sleep, the anxiety that you’ll leave her once you fight her tomorrow finally encased her.
She walks over towards your sleeping quarters and steals you away. She doesn’t see any other way to keep you around. You’re too fucking dense to see her lusting for you, so she’ll have to SHOW you.
She takes you somewhere secluded and ties you down and tapes your mouth shut. She smiles, can’t help but admire how peaceful and beautiful you look when you’re sleeping.
Some time later, when you wake up in a panic, a pang of guilt strikes her. She sees the fear in your eyes, the confusion and panic that replaced your normal demeanor.
Maybe… there’s another way…maybe she can manipulate this situation further…? She smiles and runs towards you with a concerned face, calling out your name and sliding towards you.
Seeing the confusion on your face slightly morph into relief and joy at seeing her made her feel euphoric. She kept her act up and ripped off the tape on your mouth.
Feixiao: M/N!! Thank god I found you!!
M/n: Ngh-!! F-feixiao?! What’s happening?! Where—!!
Before you could finish, feixiao lend in and began to kiss you. Your face contorted into shock and bafflement and slowly turning red.
Feixiao opened her eyes enough that you didn’t notice her opening them and she gets to look at your face. She felt herself getting closer to loosing the remaining control she had of herself. You were so fucking cute and adorable right now, but she managed to quell the heat in her, removing herself from your mouth and hugging you tightly.
Feixiao: I thought I lost you…! Don’t leave me…please… stay with me…!
^^^
Jingliu
She’s probably the perfect partner for you. She’s strong as shit, AND she wants to kill an aeon.
Jingliu would encourage your goal, and spar with you daily. And after your spar (where you’d lose) she’d always tease you playfully like she once did with the high cloud quintet.
Jingliu and you stay close everyday. And she thrives on it. Of course you’d stay with her! Who else is so closely aligned with you down to your goal? No way you’d leave her.
But then, there’s the darker side of her. The one that’s unhealthily possessive of you, the darker side of her love, her OBSESSION with you.
Jingliu can’t bear the mere THOUGHT of you being around someone else. The part she keeps locked tightly in a coffin deep inside her when your around. But when your not? The coffin is wide open.
Jingliu instantly goes and murders woman who so much as complimented your appearance. The fact that someone has an interest in you is a danger greater then a aeon attacking the cosmos, and she won’t let it stand.
She holds you tightly as you sleep, leaving marks on your body from how hard she held you. Her deepest fears of losing you like she did with baiheng consuming her.
The only person she’d trust you with is her partner luocha. The three of you have the same goal. Jill and aeon—Yaoshi. (Side note, anyone else ship jingliu and luocha?)
Luocha also has his work cut out for him. He has to deal with a battle hungry man and a yandere master swordswoman while working with them to kill Yaoshi. (F in the comments for my goat luocha)
Kafka
She likes it. Unlike feixiao who hates your obsession, she loves it, as it aligns with the stellaron hunters goal to kill nanook (that’s my theory, idk if it’s canon)
So she pretty much grooms you into becoming an unofficial member of the stellaron hunters. Kafka is the only one here who doesn’t care about hiding her obsession with you.
Kafka always keeps you close, even when she showers she somehow drags you in there with her (there’s your one horny moment)
-End-
Im sorry Kafka’s is short, i got a fuck ass, bitch ass, motherless and fatherless ass virus from my brother. Probably won’t post shit for a week till I’m sure this virus is gone.
And just in case you forgot (PLEASE!! Send me good luck for my feixiao pulls! Hel, make a deal with the devil even—IDC WHAT YOU DO!! JUST SEND ME LUCK!!! I WANT THIS WOMAN!!!!)
#honkai star rail#hsr#male reader#yandere#feixiao#jingliu#kafka#yandere honkai star rail#yandere jingliu#yandere jingliu x male reader#yandere feixiao#yandere feixiao x male reader#yandere kafka#yandere kafka x male reader
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Have I watched/read JJBA kinda. Is it my new hyper fixation yes. Anyways Giorno Giovanna, Jotaro Kujo, & Jolyne Cujoh with a reader (platonic or romantic idc) that’s like Firefly and her stance is just Sam but it’s called Iron Maiden!
(#><)
JJBA characters with a Firefly-like! Fem! Reader | Jolyne Cujoh, Jotaro Kujo, Giorno Giovanna
As someone who can easily say that JJBA is their favorite anime, I absolutely love this idea, Anon!! I made this a romantic hc, so I hope you'll like it!<33
Content: Vague mentions of chronical illness, mentions of potential future death by illness, angst, hurt/comfort, sfw
Reader is fem/afab in this, but no pronouns are mentioned!
((Not proofread))
》JOLYNE CUJOH
Jolyne met you in jail as a cell mate, one she quickly found a lot in common with, especially regarding your rather special stand abilities. But your illness is what really drew her to you and made her determined to keep you safe after you became a couple. Her heart ached knowing you were stuck in a prison, when you should be out there experiencing life as much as you still could, but alas, you were here with her, and she tried to make things easier for you with her presence.
She was left stunned however, when you were attacked by some stand users and quickly found out that you perhaps didn't need the extensive help and care she had given you after all. Sam, your stand, was more than enough to destroy any enemy in sight, something she found absolutely awesome. Jolyne would absolutely cheer you on from the sidelines, completely forgetting that she had to fight too.
It makes her proud to see how strong you are despite your potential deadly fate and hopes to stay at your side until the end.
》JOTARO KUJO
You both were childhood friends turned lovers, and so he was very much aware of your condition from day one. He watched as your illness progressed to become worse and worse until you were left unable to walk properly anywhere. But what hurt the most deep down was that you always remind me so gentle and calm with him anyway, despite his rather aloof and indifferent personality. His mother often teased him playfully for being so soft with you and only you, but he'd just stubbornly deny it every time.
With that said, anyone that hurts you is practically dead before they know it. He doesn't play around when it comes to your health or well-being, and so it does come to some sort of relief that your stand is extremely powerful. It made protecting and keeping you safe a lot easier when you could just do it yourself, too. This doesn't mean he won't keep his eyes on you at all times anyway.
Jotaro is somewhat in denial about what's most likely going to be your early passing due to your sickness, despite his rational mind. He doesn't want to think or hear about it, as it hurts too much to lose you as well.
》GIORNO GIOVANNA
Giorno met you through Bucciarati, and whilst you weren't directly a part of the gang, you were still an important person in it due to your stands immense strength. You immideatly introduced him to it through a battle against an enemy stand user, which made him take interest in you initially. You were gentle and soft-spoken, so it was definitely a contrast he quickly became infatuated with over time. But what really got him about you was that you were able to do all these great things despite being gravely ill.
It served as a reminder that life was cruel, and yet Giorno wasn't phased by it. In fact, he hoped that once he was successful with the mission of overtaking the boss, he'd eventually be able to get you the medical care you needed. He was determined to find a way to stop the illness or at least make life better for you, so you became another goal for him to fight for.
You can always count on him for anything and everything, that's for sure. He loves you greatly and wants to show you that by staying by you even when things get worse. So if you inevitably die, then he'll be there until your last breath.
#JJBA#jojos bizarre adventure#jjba x reader#jjba x y/n#jjba x you#giorno giovanna#jjba giorno#giorno x reader#giorno jjba#jotaro kujo#jjba jotaro#jjba jotaro x reader#jojo jotaro#jojo x reader#jotaro x reader#jotaro cujoh#jolyne cujoh#jolyne kujo#jjba jolyne#jojo jolyne#jolyne x reader
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Where are the marks of your failed arts?
lies of p paring: pinocchio x reader word count: 1226 cw: i suppose it's more fluff than anything, lil angst, scars (bare minimum description of them), bare skin, reader isn't described with any traits beyond scars, can be seen as platonic or romantic idc
a/n: second real post lets gooo, i mentioned in a response to an ask but yeah, requests are open rn. i just beat the fuckin swamp boss in my play through y'all, it was sO GROSs, my streams are getting shorter too ;c im tired
Pinocchio was no longer new to change, in fact, change was welcome in his new-found appreciation for the good of the world. Making decisions, while difficult, was a beautiful and complicated process of life. Some decisions hurt more than others, some hurt less. Many of the decisions he had made so far have been social, many of his physical situations didn't allow room for choices.
But he had noticed a difference in his ability to choose while fighting alongside you. A Stalker, human. Your choices aligned with him within those social situations, a silent agreement to minimize the hurt of your collective friends; protecting their hearts as you already did their bodies.
Your worlds coexisted peacefully for a short, yet beautiful time, until his world had broken from the rules they lived by, thrust into the world of rage and submerged anguish. The two of you hadn't met until after the devastation of the frenzy, he'd met you while you had been fighting against The Parade Master.
He could recall it like it was yesterday.
He'd rushed up the stairs and entered the arena-like area after hearing a loud crash, alerted that something sounded off in the area by the merchant outside of the entrance.
You had just been thrown into the metal fence lining the battleground, the metal behind you dented with the force of the puppet's throw. He was quick to notice the multiple other dents within the fence, the fight hadn't been easy for you.
And yet, you got back up.
Blood dribbled its way down your chin as you stumbled back to your feet.
The Parade Master had taken quite the beating, so with one more hit from you it seemed to be done for... It was never that easy. The Parade Master's mask would crack and fall to the floor as it roared with a new rage, a new desire for victory. The puppet was hungry for its win.
Pinocchio had to step in, no longer held back by the amazement of your resilience.
The two of your beat the larger puppet with ease once there were two sources of damage. While the rest of the track to the hotel wasn't easy--this is where Pinocchio learned humans don't heal as quickly as he does--you two had made it.
Tense moments constantly followed the two of you throughout your journey, with almost every battle you'd earned a new wound. These healing injuries would have you holding back in the upcoming fights you needed to face.
With your close travels came trust that ascended beyond battle buddies, you'd become companions. Because of this, you knew very well that Pinocchio could fight most, if not all, of these battles on his own. The insistence of Antonia and Geppetto had you kept in the hotel for the past few weeks, leaving your companion to fight by himself.
At first, it was weird for Pinocchio. He was used to your taunting calls, beckoning your human enemies to mess up and allow for easy openings. He had become accustomed to your anger when a few puppets were being particularly difficult. Occasionally, he had to work around your recklessness, mind-numbing pain sometimes overrode your better judgement. The uniqueness of your person kept him on his toes, and it was a comforting thing for a special creation of man.
But now being on the field felt wrong. Your banter, or often mindless chatter, was a human experience in a world of destruction.
So, a few weeks into your journey of healing, Pinocchio decided to spend some time within the hotel as well.
Pinocchio was wandering the expensive halls when he stopped outside of the wooden door to your room, staring at the material for a moment longer than he usually did. He took the moment as a sign to knock.
You called, asking who it was, when there was a lack of an answer Pinocchio heard you laugh quietly before granting him permission to enter your room.
Bare skin was not a new sight for the puppet, occasionally on the field you'd need to rip your shirt to wrap a wound, or maybe a pant leg, depended on the situation. So he approached in his typical fashion: unbothered.
However, Pinocchio finally noticed things he had yet to about you. Since the situation held no immediate danger, he had allowed himself to study your form, becoming aware of raised or engraved patterns along your skin. Your skin was lighter along some scars, darker along others, again, depended on the situation in which you earned the permanent prize.
Your eyes trailed his, watching what he saw. Your gaze shifted when he brought a hand to your arm, tracing one of your deeper scars with his eerily real synthetic skin.
"I was distracted then," You'd respond to his touch, his eyes would meet yours, "Could've cost me the arm." Your shrug concerned him.
Pinocchio would switch where his fingers lay, tracing a scar along the front of your torso. You let him, noticing how his expression shifted, how his eyebrows pinched towards each other. You knew he remembered how you received this one.
"It wasn't your fault," Reassurance laced your words, though the puppet shook his head. You wouldn't be able to change his mind even if he agreed.
This continued for a while, his fingers would run over, trace, and circle your scars and you would explain how you got them or watch as he battled himself in his mind. There were moments where you wished he'd tell you what he thought, but he was a puppet of little words, and you could understand him through the shifts of his expression.
Finally, his hand would trace over one of your larger scars, one engraved into your back.
You would smile a little, knowing where his hand lay in the maze of your scars.
"Do you remember when we met, P?" Your question was ridiculous to him, of course he did, "That one's from then." You would finish your thought after letting the silence sit in the air for just a moment longer.
Pinocchio would trail his fingers along the main puncture scar, followed by the lesser but still deep scratch scars from your encounter with The Parade Master. He would recall seeing this scar every now and then, aware of its presence. But, the puppet had never been this close to the wound. Eugenie had first taken care of you when the both of you arrived at the hotel, you'd nearly passed out from blood loss.
The softest of smiles graces his features as he remembers how insistent you were about joining him in his journey, even while injured from your first encounter. Sophia had been so against the idea, but she couldn't stop you.
You glanced over your shoulder when Pinocchio's fingers came to a halt, taking in his smile.
"What's so funny, P?" You'd tease, a brow raising at his expression. Soon, you'd lose the warmth of his synthetic skin against your scarred skin.
"Always so persistent, your spirit is admirable," His eyes would meet yours once again, a glint of appreciation present in his expression.
His words would take you for surprise, always a puppet of few words. Nevertheless, you couldn't help but smile as well. He was right, after all, the human spirit was always so persistent.
:)
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