#forgot his eye bags whoops

[ssecond-hand-faith]

Reading that tidbit about Scott and his pet snake has stirred something in Clove. As a fellow snake (and crepy crawly) lover, Clove has long forgotten his quest in persuing MC. The object of his affection is now Scott (and Rosie ofc 💖), you have my deepest condolences 😔

I’m sure it’s fiiiiiine, don’t worry about it

[callmefaceache]

Cinderella? Cinderfella? Nah- ChamberPot.

[oceantornadoo]

part three outlaw!simon x f!reader who was supposed to marry johnny 🥲

simon is about to cause a scandal and get you kicked out of this town on account of adultery.

you told him he could visit you on your saloon shift, see what the town’s like. what you did not tell him is that everyone thinks you have a fine upstanding citizen for a husband, not an outlaw covered in black head-to-toe. he’s been nursing a whiskey for the past hour, haunting the last barstool in a corner, angled perfectly with his back to the wall.

he touches you everytime you pass him. a guiding hand on your waist when you saunter by with a tray of drinks. tucking your hair back into your updo as you become increasingly frazzled with a busy saturday night. even tightening the ties of your apron one time while you were talking to a customer, their eyes bugging out at the sight.

it would be fine if the public knew he was your husband - but johnny’s ring lays tucked into your nightstand and on account of simon’s gloves, you look like a cheater. an adulteress, committing sin in an already sinful establishment. you can see the church ladies signing the cross, see your neighbors muttering under their breath. it all comes to a head when the town rake decides to engage this shadowy figure of confusion that everyone is wondering about.

“does doin’ all that finally mean she’s out from her husband?” he introduced himself to simon, some forgettable name, and simon’s already wishing for the solitude of the mountains and grassy plains again. “wot?” the stranger’s so close simon can smell the liquor on his breath, can see the unsteadiness of his stature. he nods to you, taking orders in the corner of the saloon. “she’s not wearin’ her ring and your hands are on her, so that mean she’s outta that marriage? never even saw the man, guessed ‘e stepped out on ‘er.” simon couldn’t explain the situation to him, the stranger’s brain so stupidly drunk he couldn’t comprehend. so, the course of action was exactly that; action.

you were turning around, ready to holler at the singular cook in the saloon’s kitchen, when two meaty paws yanked into a body. you immediately resisted, too used to fighting the world at every turn, before you heard his voice. “just me, darlin’. settle down.” you hated how you immediately relaxed, shoulders drooping. simon yanked you into his side, eyes not on you but some man at the bar. “simon, you’re makin’ a scene.” he looked down at you, raising an eyebrow while the rest of his face moved under his bandana. “you’d rather a scandal?” so he did understand what was going on. you shook your head vehemently, intrigued at his next move. he unfurled one of your hands on his chest, the left one, turning it so the saloon could see your bare ring finger. the crowd suddenly silenced, understanding something important was happening.

simon’s gloved hand slipped into his pocket, drawing out a cloth bag. from it he brought out a ring, something with a pretty diamond and a vintage look. you gasped at the sight, of the thought he was giving you a ring with history, not just one from the jeweler’s. gold was well known in the west, the lifeblood of new towns, but the design showed elegance and class, not just new money. he slipped it on your bare finger, pulling you in for a light kiss over his bandana. you couldn’t even reciprocate, too stunned at the publicity of his claim. you heard someone whoop and that was it, your crowd turning back to a better piece of gossip now that this was solved. “y’r not gettin’ pushed out of town on my account, love.” you nodded wordlessly, eyes darting to the heavy weight on your hand. “go’on and get me another whiskey, hm?” he sent you to the bar-top with a pat on the ass, and that was that.

—

a little fluff for yall

this is my outlaw simon in a song.

taglist (lmk if i forgot you or you want to be added!):

@chickennn-soupp

@vmaxis

@samanthamarkle92

@sinful-tawtute

@nightingale2124

@scottpilgrimvsmyfists

@saucypeanuttt

@kylies-love-letter

@livvrosesblog

@livingoutsidethetardis

[youreverydayghost]

Oh, yeah. Preparing exams for his own students. Totally what he was doing. Then again, it's not like he doesn't already have them prepared. He sets his notebook down, his chair making a harsh sound as it's front legs land on the ground, though the noise itself seems to make him jump a little.

"Ah, yes, of course- well... the majority of my students will be having their exams within the week. They're already prepared, so I was grading some assignments for a couple of my classes. Time truly does fly by fast, doesn't it..." He mumbles that last part wistfully to himself, giving the impression that time is moving too fast for his liking...

But he seems to perk up at the offer of lunch with Nox, not expecting it at all but clearly pleasantly surprised. After his eyes widen and his ears flicker, he slowly stands up, grabbing his notebook and looking away for a few moments.

"O-Oh, well, I... I think that sounds like a good idea," he responds quietly, a gentle smile appearing on his face. "I haven't eaten yet today, actually, now that I think about it..." Seeming a little embarrassed about that fact, he looks away and fidgets with the buttons on his shirt a little. "Spent the time I had in the morning grading assignments from one of my classes, you know how it is."

Everything seemed normal at first as all of the students left the room... but as it would turn out, there would be one person left in a seat in the very back of the room. His chair tilted back, he's currently writing in his notebook, when his ears flicker as he notices the newfound silence.

Ah, it's simply Professor Heartsfeld. He smiles to himself as he closes his notebook.

"Hm... Seems class has ended at last. The students seem rather prepared for their upcoming exam... most of them, anyway. I'd say the professor is doing a pretty good job. Oh, wait..."

He looks up and grins more, knowing exactly who he was talking about.

"There you are."

Leaning over the other, sort of watching him in a way. Until, Xavier gotten better him not making noticing. Softly grinning at the other, “Getting better of me without making a sound, impressive Professor Heartsfeld.

Soon then to stand up straightly, “Don’t mind me just eves dropping on what you were doing, seems preparing the exams coming for the semester?” Nox already did his, and soon be grading who passed and those who had failed. “How time do fly by quickly with all the teaching these passing years.”

As he then smiled, “Since classes at the moment are still going on their exams, would you care to go have lunch with me? Nothing too special, knowing you would have to return for the students to take their exams of yours.”

[munsonsprincess11111]

Sleepover.

Eddie munson x reader:

Summary: Eddie's friends decide to all have a sleepover at the trailer. Eddie completely forgets and invites you over.

Eddie's on top of you head on your chest arms around your waist. You've got your legs spread for him to lay in between one hand stroking his back. The other stroking his head. "This is nice." HE mumbles closing his eyes relaxing into your touch.

Your eyes slowly begin to shut when there's loud banging on the door. Eddie jumps out of his skin sitting up. Eddie and you both look at eachother with wide eyes. "If that's the cops m jumping out the window." Eddie says standing up pulling his shirt down getting his shoes on.

"I'll get the door." You mumble walking over to the door. Peeking through the peep hole. "Babe it's only the boys." You shout laughing.

"Ah fuck." Eddie shouts in the distance running down the hallway. "Fuck I forgot they wanted to stay here tonight." HE says biting his lip looking at you. You step out the way and let Eddie open thr door. He let's the group of boys in and says hello to them all. Then Gareth sees you. "OH hey y/n why are you here..." HE askes confused.

Eddie groans "OK I'm sorry I forgot. I completely forgot you guys wanted to stay and invited y/n over for the night. And then you was knocking on the door so I don't know what you want me to do." HE says looking like a child crossing his arms over his chest.

The group of boys groan. Sudden wash of anxiety running over you. "I can just go." You say trying to fix Eddie's mess up.

All the boys says yes and nod. Except Eddie he looks at you annoyed. "NO. Nope. Your not going OK." HE says ignoring the boys.

"Eddie its fine OK." You says smiling walking to Eddie's room to get your bag. He followed after you. "I'll see ya on Monday." You say kissing his cheek. Before he can protest you've walked out the door.

The boys all whooping and cheering Gareth putting beer on the table n the boys taking one. "Common man don't be a downer." Gareth says handing Eddie a beer.

-2 hours later-

" we should all call our girlfriends." Jeff suggests. Eddie's eyes shoot up at him frowning. The boys agree. Going to the phone. First Gareth calls his girlfriend saying he loves her ans stuff. Then Jeff telling his girlfriend he can't wait for there date on Sunday. And then they get Eddie to call you.

You answer within 2 rings. "Hello" you answer.

"Hey babe it's me." HE says glancing at the boys. "What's up Eddie?" You ask sounding slightly disappointed.

"Nothing much just making sure your OK." HE answers biting his lip. "Yeah I'm OK are you?"

Eddie looks at the guys who are silently laughing. "Yeah I'm fine. Glad your OK I'm gonna come over tomorrow at 11 am to spend time with ya OK?" HE askes twisting his ring.

"Yeah that's fine see ya then babe." You answer. "Kay great I love you." HE says looking at his feet.

"I love you too." You say hanging up. The boys start laughing when he puts thr phone down at how awkward Eddie was. He rolls his eyes and sits on the couch.

-

1:34 AM. the clock starred at him. The others where asleep. And Eddie couldn't sleep. He needed you. He crept up from his spot on the floor over to the door. Silently grabbing his keys slipping his shoes on walking out the door closing it silently.

He got in the van and drove out the trailer park. He parked a block away from your house and walked around to your window which was left open a crack. Lucky for him. He slid the window up and slipped through. He took his shoes off placing them next to the window. He took off his jacket dropping it with his shoes. Then putting his keys on your desk.

He crept to your bed climbing in next to you. "Babe?" HE whispered. Nothing.

"Princess." HE says a little louder. You stir wnd then go back to sleep. "Y/n." HE says louder making you jump awake. Calming when you see who it is.

"The fuck you doing here." You ask half asleep running a hand through his curls. "Can't sleep wanna come back to the trailer with me n go sleep. I'd crash here but I don't want to leave them dicks alone." HE says kissing your cheek.

You nod. Eddie helps you up putting his jacket on you. You slip on your slippers as Eddie slips on his boots. He goes out the window first. You follow him out grabbing his hand as you stand. He wraps and arm around your shoulder walking to the van like that.

Once in the van you turn on the heater nuzzling into Eddie's jacket holing the hand that's not on the steering wheel.

"I felt really bad about you going earlier. N then you sounded pussed on the phone. N I couldn't sleep. So I come to get ya. Sorry if that's annoying." HE says starting at the empty roads

You shake your head. "I was kinda annoyed at the others reaction when I said I'd go. But I'm glad you come to get me. I don't mind you woke me up. Rather be with you then on my own." You say running a finger over his knuckles. You look over at him and see how he looks in the streetlight. Making you smile.

"I love you." You whisper to him. He stops at a stop light. There were no over cars about but he did for the first time in his life. "I love you too." HE whispers back kissing you sweetly.

You arrive at the trailer and Eddie helps you out. Opening your door for you. Then the trailer door. You enter the trailer feeling comfort at the feeling of Eddie. You slip your shoes off so does Eddie. But you keep his jacket on until your in his bed. His arms go around your waist. Yours around his neck so you can stroke his head. He's out like a light within seconds. One more kiss on his head and your out.

-

The boys notice Eddie's gone so doug walks down to his room. Only to see you both tangled in eachother fast asleep.

"Y/ns here Eddie's asleep." HE tells the others. The others nod. Gareth rights a note for Eddie when he awakens.

Can't believe you ditched us to go get your girl ya softy. Great night call us when your alive.

They pack up and leave.

-

Eddie wakes up and goes into thr living room seeing the boys have left and the note. He called Gareth asking him to call thr others for him. Then he heads back to his room. Climbing into his bed behind you kissing your neck.

You stir awake smiling feeling Eddie kiss your neck. You turn your head catching his lips on yours. "Morning." You smile.

"Morning gorgeous." HE smiles kissing you again.

"The guys already left so you can walking around naked if ya wanna." HE smirks running his fingers up your side. You giggle at Eddie.

"That make you happy?" You ask smirking. He nods like a child hair going everywhere. "Come shower with me then if your lucky. Maybe." HE needs no more convincing. He stand up pulling you up. Dropping his pj pants and boxers. Taking off your shirt dropping your shorts and panties.

He pick you up bridal style. Your laughing as he kissing you as you enter the bathroom.

"I love you."

"I love you too ya douchbag." You say kissing him

[captain-n-crunchies]

My Zuzu!

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Let talk about how Izuku would be the perfect boyfriend in the history of boyfriends. Like forgot Bakugo tough but soft love and Kirishima gym rat love and look at how Zuku is like total boyfriend material!

-- Izuku who when he first discovers your pretty face quickly asks you about your quirk and backstory even how you got your hero suit designed! Writing everything you say with a quickness, but he doesn't even notice himself writing notes about your appearance like how your lip pucker when in thought, your eyes simmer when you talk about your favorite thing about your hero design, and how quickly your face animates itself to a new emotion every few sentences. After meeting him he makes a huge effort to get to know you besides your quirk and heroic morals he wants to know everything about you even things about your parents (he used those facts for when you start dating)

-- Izuku after months of being your friend fighting alongside you and you tending to some of his scars he starts to have more unfriendly thoughts about, and no not any freaky stuff more of he hates how you laugh at every flirty joke Denki makes or how he love that you fuss over him and his recklessness he just eats up every new hairstyle you get, every new shoe, new dress he just hasss to complement you making you smiles at him so hard he blushes under that gaze you give him. Too bad it took practically a whole pregnancy for him to confess!

-- Izuku would when makes dates makes sure he gets everything perfect from a small date to a cafe he gets you a tiny allmight keychain as a momentum, dates at the aquarium? a jellyfish plushie is in your arms by the end of shark's exhibit, a concert for the two of you favorite band? Oh, baby got a favor from Bakugo to get you their new album. He makes sure any cuddle dates are so cozy and warm so you can't leave his arms; with pillow forts and fresh popcorn and a cute Disney movie with his strong arms around you warming you up nicely. Izuku who covers you up in his bed is you fall asleep fist and gets one of his allmight plushie and places it in your arms

-- Izuku who is always touching you doesn't matter if it's your leg on his thigh or his hand holding your pinky, he just needs to touch you if you're going to be close to him but what about far away? He has a whole keychain of allmight that everyone knows is his and he attaches it onto your bag and boom now everyone even your teachers know your " Zuzu Baby"

-- Speaking of Zuzu baby, he loves pet names and since his name Izuku has about fifty names in it you choose ' Zuzu' which when you first called him it he face reddens a bit since you always gotta call him babe or baby he naturally registers his name to be Zuzu. He's a boy who doesn't care if his friends hear you call him this name because you call him it out of love and he can't ask for more, I mean your his baby what the need to go getting mad because you didn't call him Midoriya he doesn't even call you by your real name you baby, pretty boy/girl, beautiful, pretty, anything he could think of that remind him of your called it

-- Now even though he's soft he ain't no punk he just doesn't really get bothered by mean commets anymore (he was quirkless majority of his childhood this dude got more thick skin than Bakugo) he just laughs awkwardly and when alone he talks all his shit

" And Bakugo gonna call me useless!?"

" Nooo baby why you didn't say nothing?"

" He got kidnapped and nobody wanted to save him but Kiri! I would be pissed everyday too"

" Omg! Izu stop!"

-- Like Zuzu is messy also he was a quite kid y'all so when you thought he wasn't listening HE WAS, and since your if s/o then bookie he is talking so much shit and gossip with you to the point you look at him differently like where did my softy go? He just said he would whoop Todoroki's ass if he called him a mutt

" Baby really?"

" It'll take a while but I could!"

" Shoto? The fire and ice combo package?? You could whoop his ass?"

" If I was called a mutt! He'll have two scars"

Yea... he talks too much but, he gonna back it up especially if it was about you. He cares about your mental a lot so if you ever tell him you're feeling a bit down simply because a hoe talking shit, he got 508 Instagram accounts to troll them, and you'll never know

-- Izuku who is only a boy so sometimes that cute miniskirt gets the gears in his head turning, in his room right behind the hero journal he got a little book filled with drawings of you so detailed it almost creepy, a small page of you drawn in many lewd styles. Every make out session you feel hi hand twitch trying to stop himself from touching our hips or to fondle your chest when you cuddle

-- Izuku who when the time is right will show you, he isn't just Zuzu baby all the time his mind evreytime you change clothes wondering what will happen if he takes a peek at your naked form?

-- 'That'll never happen though, Izuku is too much of a sweetheart to be a perv right?' You think looking at him scribble in his book today you're in his room studying, you ask to see his book and he blushes shaking his head and hides the page from. After a few minutes he gets up to go to the bathroom now your chance!

Getting up from your spot you take a peek at the page and it just a drawing of you listening to music from earlier with cute love notes along the side, smiling you hide the page again not looking at the page behind it with you drawn with your tits out glistening in the sun.

We love Zuzu!

[mapofthemazeinthemirror]

Hybrid!txt when you smell like someone else

Warnings: gender neutral reader, but for Taehyun's reader is mentioned to have a boyfriend. I should probably mention that when I write hybrids, I don't really picture people with animal features like ears and tails, just animal senses and behaviours? That should help this make more sense. This could also work for werewolves if you prefer to imagine it that way!

Note: this has been sitting in my drafts for months, it kept getting pushed back by other ideas. So glad to get it out. Please let me know which is your favourite scenario!

☆ gender neutral reader

Soobin

You were standing in the kitchen filling the sink with water to start the dishes when you heard the front door. It was game night; the night your boyfriend and his friends ordered in dinner and hogged the TV to play games until they wore each other out, or on some occasions, to tears. So you didn't mind doing the dishes tonight, even though it was technically Soobin’s turn.

"Yah, what's that smell?”

You turned to see Soobin and Beomgyu appear in the kitchen, bags from the convenience store slung over Beomgyu’s shoulder, a telltale sign that he'd lost at rock paper scissors. “Hi guys.”

"Is someone here?" Soobin asked, glancing down the hallway. You shook your head and he immediately dropped his confused expression, his face scrunching in disgust. “Then what smells like dog?”

"I don't... oh. It's probably my new boss, we had a meeting today." After all the time you'd been with Soobin, all the time you'd spent around his friends, you were still not that used to this whole thing. You couldn't always spot their kind, and sometimes you forgot about your boyfriend's intense senses, though you had gotten better since you started dating.

Beomgyu placed the bags atop the counter and scratched the back of his head. "The other guys will be here in a minute, so..." He looked up at Soobin who met his eyes.

This was another thing that happened often. It was like they could just lock eyes and know what the other was thinking without saying a word. The two seemed to finish their silent conversing, turning back to you, matching grins growing on their faces. Your eyes darted between the two of them, trying to get a clue as to what you were left out of the loop about, before they were coming at you. Sandwiching you between them, they both began rubbing their cheeks against yours, scenting you as you squirmed.

"Is this what you're going to smell like every day now?" Soobin asked into your hair.

Beomgyu was finding this funny, his laughter in your ear as you whined in complaint. "You reek! Maybe it's time to find a new job."

Once they were satisfied with their work, they stood back, chuckling at how mussed up your hair was from their handiwork. You pouted up at them and they were even more amused.

The doorbell rang before Yeonjun let himself in, the door still being unlocked. He waltzed into the kitchen with Taehyun in tow. "Who's ready to get whoop-" his face fell and his eyes began to search the floor, before looking between you and Soobin, brows furrowed. "Did you guys get a dog or something?"

Before Beomgyu or Soobin could do anything except smirk at you, you were turning on your heel and announcing that you were going to take a shower.

Yeonjun

When he arrives home, straight away his senses hone in on your jacket hanging over the porch railing, soaking wet—yet still he can smell what you've tried to erase. As soon as you hear his key in the door you’re there explaining, before he can utter a single word.

"This guy at the bus stop was all over me. I had to get a different bus so he wouldn’t be with me on the way here."

He stops midway through taking off his own coat, the shoulders of the garment hanging at his elbows. You hear the strain in his voice, see the fervor flash through his eyes. "What do you mean all over you?"

"He put his arm around me. He kept putting his face close to my ear to ask me questions… but-but I washed my hair when I got home. I washed my jacket twice but I wasn't sure if it would still get to you, so l left it outside. I'm sorry."

His expression faded as he relaxed a little. Still he kept his concentration solely on you as he pulled his hands from his sleeves and hung the coat up. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. Did he do anything else, anything more? Are you okay?"

You sighed tiredly, glad Yeonjun was home and you could have dinner and relax together and put the day behind you. “No, I’m fine.”

Stepping forward, he pulled you into his arms and pressed his cheek to the top of your head. “That’s all that matters.”

Beomgyu

Beomgyu stepped out of the cool night air and into the small store you worked in. He always picks you up when you work the night shift, preferring to drive you home than you taking the bus so late.

You haven't yet noticed his presence, despite the place being empty, busy tidying the shop for closing. As he slinks over to you, you reach up on your tip toes to put something away on a high shelf, and he means to put his arms around you to surprise, but something made him stop short behind you.

"Not again," he says, making you jump out of your skin.

"Gyu!" you yelp. "Don't do that!"

He pouts. "You smell like not you."

Pulling the fabric of your shirt to your nose and inhaling, you shake your head. "I don't smell anything."

You move off to the front desk, Beomgyu trailing behind, still complaining. "Of course you don't smell it, you pure-bred human—" and when you send him a look, he adds, "—affectionately. You just have to take my word for it."

He watches as you clock out and untie the apron from your waist, looking up at him tiredly. "Let's just go home, okay?"

He nods, and after turning off the lights and locking the doors, you make the short walk to his car. It's still warm inside, and it's such a relief to sit down after hours on your feet. You let your head rest back against the seat and look up at your boyfriend as he puts the key in the ignition.

"Thank you," you say tiredly.

As he looks over at you, he grabs something from the mirror and holds it out to you. Taking it from him, you look down to inspect what you've been given—his car air freshener. "You're welcome."

Taehyun

Taehyun couldn't hide his smile as he opened the door, until he got a whiff of something he didn't like. "Hey," he said, trying to act casual despite his senses waving tiny red flags at him. Yet, before he could stop himself, he was asking, "Where have you been?"

He watched as you took off your shoes, a hard task with your hands occupied with the pile of books and stationary you'd brought for studying, and usually Taehyun would be a gentleman and take them for you, but right now his mind was distracted.

"I stopped at my boyfriend's place. I'm sorry, am I late?"

Your boyfriend. He hadn't known you had a boyfriend... had he? He tried to rack brain, think of who you hung out with at school as he lead you into the house. "Oh... no, uhm..."

You walked across him to put your stuff down at the table and he got a stronger smell of the scent that hovered around you. Your boyfriend was definitely not completely human. He wondered if you knew. He wondered if he could compose himself enough to study with this smell hanging around.

"Let's get started," you were saying as you took a seat.

Taehyun tried to ignore his thoughts as he sat with you, listening to you talk about the assignment and dividing tasks. He did his best to focus on the words you were saying, your voice, your eyes, anything he could hold onto. But his instincts were strong. He stood up suddenly, your eyes following him, mouth forming a question. "Would you like anything? To eat or drink?"

Your expression cleared of confusion. "Sure, water would be nice."

Thankful to busy himself and get a break, he walked over to the kitchen and filled one glass, then another, breathing deeply all the while to try to calm his system. As he returned to the table, you were coming back from the front hall, suddenly without your jacket on. You reached out and took one of the glasses from him and sat down once more. He noticed that most of the scent was gone; he could bear being so close to you now.

"I really like that jacket you were wearing," he commented nonchalantly between discussions of school work.

You looked up from your notes with a smile. "Oh yeah? Me too. It's my boyfriend's, I'm always stealing it when I can."

He nodded, trying to keep the small smile from fading. It's okay, I'm okay, his mind was trying to console him. It probably wouldn't work out between the two of you anyway... right?

Huening Kai

He found you on the couch, laying on your side, tucked into a ball. “Hi hun,” he spoke softly, knowing this habit of yours meant something was up. He wasn’t going to bring up the scent he had picked up before he’d even opened the front door just yet.

You peeked up at him and he could tell you were exhausted. “Hi." His smile and his eyes were so warm that you immediately blurted out what was wrong without him needing to ask. "I went to a party.”

“Oh?" Your voice was so small and meak it tugged at Kai’s heart. "A party?”

“I didn’t want to go but my friends… they dragged me there, and I… I’m pretty sure everyone there was…” You pressed your lips together.

“Stinky,” he finished for you with a playful scrunch of his nose.

Nodding, you uncurled yourself to make room for your boyfriend on the couch. He sat and reached for your hand, holding it inside his big, warm one. His hands were always warm. He was always warm. It was one of your favourite things.

“It was kinda scary,” you admitted. At this, he tugged your hand towards him, a sign for you to come closer, and soon you were tucked into his lap.

"I know," he said softly, rubbing his hands up and down your arms soothingly. "I know it's still all new to you."

Humming in agreement, you allowed your head to fall into the crook of his neck. This was the place you felt safest in the whole world, even before you knew that the world was not as you had always thought.

Kai's voice rumbled through his chest, vibrating through you as he spoke. "Maybe a bath might help you relax."

You looked up at him, and he brought his face down to rub his nose against yours, his trademark show of affection with you. "Do I really smell that bad?"

The boy couldn't hide his smirk. "Just a little."

written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Imagine...Demon Dean Hunting You (Part 1)

Pairing: Demon!Dean x reader

A/N: Wrote this 7 years ago and forgot about it. Whoops

_______

“Y/N, where are you sweetheart?” you heard Dean taunt from somewhere in the bunker. Of course you had to be alone, Sam and Cas just had to go out together to get some more blood. You were going to kill Sam if you ever saw him again, forgetting the last bag you’d needed to turn Dean all the way back...he should be praying you didn’t get a hold of him.

A door slamming shut nearby made you shudder. Dean was getting closer to your hiding spot and you knew beating him when he wasn’t some super strong version of himself was difficult enough. 

“I just want to talk to my, Y/N. I know you’ve missed me,” he said, voice only a hall away. You could risk running from the closet you were in, try to conceal yourself in some dark corner. It’d be pointless though, Dean was too good right now and he’d hear.

You titled your head up, holding in a groan as you heard Dean find your hall. Your eyes widened as you got an idea. You wasted no time, not caring about the noise you were making as Dean chuckled and you saw the light under the door be blocked out.

“Found you,” he sang, trying the handle at first but finding it locked. You nearly fell as you felt Dean ram his shoulder once and then twice into the door as it flung open. “Now where...” he trailed off as he didn’t see you in the small space.

“Up here,” you said, staring down from where you’d managed to pull yourself up into the air vent. It was gross and dark but for the first time since Dean escaped, you felt safe. He’d never fit, no matter what traces of demon he had left in him.

“Just when I thought we were done playing,” he said darkly. “Smart, I’ll give you that. But I’ll see you in a few minutes sweetheart,” you heard him say as he disappeared with a wink. You crawled further into the vents, toward the other side of the bunker, aiming for the garage when you started to feel warm, very warm.

“Did he...” you trailed off as you pushed on towards the garage, ignoring the heat. When you got there, you found the vent blocked, a heavy tool chest in front of it that you’d never move. And so it went, every vent you tried, Dean had put something in front of it or bolted right over it, all the while the heat got so bad the metal was beginning to hurt your hands. He’d turned the furnace to the max, the air barely breathable as you made your way back to the vent you came up in. 

You hid out of view as long as you could stand it, until your lungs burned for cool air and your skin was begging for any kind of relief. You debated staying there but knew Sam and Cas would be home soon. You could handle Demon Dean for fifteen minutes. You had to.

Ungracefully, you slipped out of the vent, falling back to the closet floor, knees smacking hard as you let out a whine, the cold floor a nice reprieve. Until you saw a pair of boots step into view.

“Hi, Y/N,” said Dean, a hand in the back of your shirt pulling you up. “You’re coming with me.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober (2024) Day 17 - Facials

Kinks: Facials

Pairing: GN!Reader x M!Centaur

Other Kinks: Cock Worship, Blow Jobs, Slight Exhibitionism

Word Count: 1752 words

Kinktober Masterlist

There was something about a rodeo boy.

It’s a combination of things; The accent, their rugged hands, the way they swagger across the stadiums decked out in their fancy gear. They were hot commodities and they knew it, sending winks and handing out numbers to any sweet thing that caught their eye.

You were only human, of course you weren’t immune to the sultry allure of those cowboys, even if it was just for a night and cheap fun. When you saw that stallion of a centaur ride around the stadium, wrangle and hogtie that calf in 7 seconds flat, you felt a buzz in your head that had you acting foolish. So yeah, maybe you unbuttoned your shirt a little and revealed a little more chest. Maybe you leaned over and whooped and hollered when he came in first, mouth watering as he flicked back that shaggy, dirty-blond hair and brushed the arena dust off his face. And maybe you not-so-innocently strided up to the stallion, leaned in real close and laid a hand on his chest, saying he looked damn good out there.

But hey, there’s nothing to say that acting cheap doesn’t get you results.

“Damn, sugar, you’re hungry for it.” Boone laughs, trying to act all confident despite the way his eyes dart all around, ears twitching at every noise. The stall you had pulled into was in a quiet part of the arena stadium, far from the main events still ongoing. It hardly looked like it had been used all, hay still clean and water troughs and hay bags empty. Still, it wasn’t off limits to think that someone would wander back here, either by accident or looking for some fun of their own. But that’s a risk you’re willing to deal with.

“Sure am.” You purr, already on your knees in front of Boone, stroking down his human torso and feeling the happy trail right to his thicker layer of fur. It’s the same dirty blonde as his hair, still coated in dust from his arena ride. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” You lick your lips, pressing a kiss to Boone’s navel.

“Well who am I to deny such a loyal fan?” Boone pats the top of your head, legs slowly spreading out. You peak down between and see his square tipped cockhead poking out of its sheath, already dripping. Your mouth waters. “Now, do you want to do this right under me or-”

“I was thinking like this.” You tap the inside of Boone’s leg and gesture to the stall door behind you. If he hikes up his front two legs, you’d be at perfect face height with his meaty cock. Which, considering that only half is out right now and it’s still almost the length of your forearm, is saying a lot. 

“Fine by me, darling.” Boone props his first hoof, grabbing the side of the wall and pulling to put both just above your head. The angle you’re at gives you the perfect view of his muscled forearm, his rolled up flannel sleeves laying bare the pronounced veins and deep tan of his skin. “Get to see your pretty face like this too.”

Something wet and warm pokes against your chin, your gaze so lost in looking up at his cut figure that you almost forgot about the massive cock in front of you.

Holy mother of god. You knew centaurs were hung, but Boone’s cock is damn near the length of your torso. The head taps your chin while his balls lay snugly against your stomach, the throbbing dick as thick around as a water bottle. It curves slightly to the right, just missing your mouth and has similar rigid veins as his forearms. 

“Like what you see?”

Slackjawed in awe, all you can do is nod, hand gravitating to grasp at the base like a moth to the flame. You can’t even grip all the way around his shaft, but it’s still enough to make Boone bite his bottom lip and hiss. 

“Very.” You whisper, squeezing your hands around the thick girth, as if testing to see if it was real. A deep rumble comes from Boone’s chest, another glob pre-cum pooling at his tip.

Whelp, guess I should get to work.

Gathering up the pooled up saliva in your mouth, you spit into your other hand, quickly joining it with the other and slathering it up the veiny shaft. Boone’s hips jut just a hit, tapping your chin with his sticky head. It leaves trails of his pre-cum across your skin, though you're a little too hot and bothered to care.

“Patience, big boy.” You whisper, puckering your lips and pressing a dainty kiss to his head. Boone sighs, wrapping his large hand around the back of your neck. He doesn’t force your head down or apply any pressure, but the weight of it still sends a shiver down your spine.

You smack your lips, salty cum tasting somehow sweet on your tongue. It makes you crave more, and you lick a long circle around the entire circumference of his cock-head, sweaty and musky as the rest of him.

“Fuck, sugar. More of that.” The hand on the back of your neck squeezes just a bit, making your giggle.

You continue licking around his head, just missing his slit with your wandering tongue. Your hands get to work jerking up and down his shaft, just a couple inches as to not exhaust your poor forearms. Boone’s dick twitches in your grip. You look like you just devoured a glazed donut, jaw and lips shiny and sticky.

Veins pulse beneath your palms, hot blood rushing to flush Boone’s pink cock an even brighter shade of red. His breath has begun to pick up, his chest heaving as you work up and down his cock like a professional. You’ve switched from just licking to sucking, hard enough to almost leave hickeys on his shaft. He’s far too wide for your deep-throat him, but this seems to get the job done just as well, the heat of your mouth setting his skin ablaze.

Floorboards squeak when Boone digs his hooves in, humping into your hands. His shaft bumps against your torso with each one, the half-inch thrusts enough to nearly knock you over. But you suck in and engage your core, tighten your grip around his cock like a python to keep your leverage. Just as Boone wanted, fingers threading through the baby hairs at the back of your skull.

“Shit.” Boone curses, banging his fist into the side of the stall door. You can feel his heavy gaze on you, watching you suck his cock like a popsicle, but you’re too focused on your craft to care. Hips begin to move a bit faster, tip now slapping against your cheeks with a wet plap each time. You let him, chasing his taste with your mouth each time. It gives your poor arms a chance to rest, keeping your hands formed like a circle for him to fuck into.

“Gonna need you to come to all my shows, darling.” Boone is panting now, the muscles of his haunches flexing as he chases the high of your mouth. “Think a blowie will be good motivation, get my head in the game.” His tips now hit the bottom of your nose, nearly drowning you in his gummy pre-cum. “Might beat my record, knowing I got a hot little thing ready to get on their knees when I do.”

You nod, mouth hanging open as Boone juts in and out, tongue stuck out like a dog and letting his cock just move back and forth, back and forth. Every thrust brings a new taste, another salty mouthful just for you.

“F-fuck, I’m getting close.” Boone says, hands wringing into your skull and the edge of the stall door. You could tell, his thrust have gotten sloppy and coordinated, his head hitting a different spot of your face everytime. “Where do you want it?’

“My face.” You slur between mouthfuls of cock. “All over my face.”

You don’t think about the consequences, about the mess he’s gonna make. You just need this cowboy's cum on your face, and you need it now.”

Boone guffars at your suggestion, but moves even faster. He pushes your neck into his shaft, forces you to rub your face against the sweaty skin.

“Anything for you, sugar.”

Boone ends with a couple powerful thrusts, almost knocking you over. With the final thrust he wrenches your head back, angles you perfectly to shoot all over your face and mouth. His cock spurts like a firehose, enough cum to cover your face and your chest, hot cum dripping down the deep-v of your flannel and down to your stomach. It tastes just like before, salty and delicious, leaves you wanting more. His tights ball squeeze with each burst, pumping more and more cum to cover you entirely.

When Boones hand leaves the back of your neck, you fall backwards and against the stall door. You can barely open your eyes, covered in so much cum you think Boone’s musk will be stuck to you for weeks.

You don’t see but hear the turning off the nozzle in front of the water bucket, streams of water covering Boone’s sweat slicked and dirty hands. Boone rips the handkerchief off around his neck and douses it, the ratty texture kind of nice when he wipes it up and down your face, scoops off enough cum to fill several turkey basters.

“Damn, I drenched ya.” Boone laughs in disbelief. “Sorry, sugar, I don't think I’ve cummed that much in a while.”

You give a thumbs up, silently communicating your more than fine with this outcome. His gentle cleaning was a nice surprise, your horny mind more than content to be doused and not even think of the consequences.

Boone's able to get all of the cum off your face and neck, but there's still dribbles of it down your chest and under your shirt. The handkerchief is too soaked at that point, creating more of a mess than cleaning.

“I’ll just shower when I get home” You assuage Boone’s worries.

He laughs.

That night, you leave the rodeo filthy and content. Cum stains on your stomach, and a handsome rodeo’s boy’s number on your phone.

“I wasn’t joking, darling.” Boone said, patting the side of your cheek. “I think you’re my new good luck charm.”

[offt0wonderland]

The Runaways Fanfiction

The Outsiders x fem OC

word count 3.6k

Quick summary: A young Soc finds herself thrown into a loop once she befriends Pony and his family.

I continued to keep my distance, pausing each time Pony stopped to look at himself in the mirror. I’d twirl around, finding a small hidden space while I observed the comb running over his greased-up hair for the tenth time. Frankly, it was kind of funny how much he cared for his appearance – but it was also annoying; all I wanted to do was to drop off the journal and make my way back to my own part of town. The place that didn’t give me the creeps. Yet it seemed as if Pony was enjoying his casual stroll, not a care in the world with how quickly he’d appear in his home.

It took about ten minutes before he finally turned his last corner, trudging past a rusted gate and up the steps of a dilapidated home: The outer walls were painted eggshell white, chips and nails protruded from the corners of the architecture, and each step had a five-inch crack imbedded within. Honestly, the house was even worse than I had imagined it to be. There was no way in hell my brain could decipher how someone could live there for years on end – I mean, it appeared as if it was bound to collapse on itself within a few months.

The insides of my cheeks puffed out, a hesitation on my end halting me from following the path Pony effortlessly laid out for me. It was like all the muscles of my legs had stationed themselves firmly on the ground beneath, fear coursing my veins once more. I wasn’t sure if I was even going to be able to do it; I’d have walked this whole way, skipped an important lecture, and still ended up not finishing the one mission I set out to do. “Ugh, don’t be such a darn chicken …”

But I was. I couldn’t do it – I wouldn’t do it. I turned on my heels, preparing to find my way back to a comfort zone until a low voice spoke up from behind. “Are you lost?” I whipped my head around, eyeing the older man that had his arms crossed sharply across his chest. He seemed to be somewhere in his twenties, or at least looked like it. His brows pointed inwards, the rounds of his eyes dragging down to my outfit; a sense of confusion as to why a Social had somehow found herself eyeing his home.

I swiftly shook my head, taking a tiny gulp before speaking. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but is Ponyboy there?” Of course he was there, I just saw him walk in – such an idiot.

The man took a second, contemplating if he should grab the young boy in his home, but he soon obliged. “Pony!”

“What?!” I could hear Pony’s voice ring out in the background.

“Come here.”

“Uh-oh, someone’s getting their butt whooped for skipping class.” A more accented voice spoke up, which soon earned him a couple of yelps as slapping sounds echoed off the inside walls.

“Shut up Two-Bit, at least I know what obtuse means.” Pony sauntered towards the front, his shoulder leaning against the door frame as his eyes fixated on the man. “Darry, what’s – ” It wasn’t long before his voice trailed off, his eyes scanning over towards me outside of his gate. And just like Darry’s his brows sunk inwards.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it.” Darry backed away from the crowded front, slamming the door shut behind him in an effort to give us some privacy.

The two of us reveled in the silence for a few seconds, unsure of what words to say given that we’d never acknowledged each other in class. But then it hit me, all I had to do was show him the journal and he’d know. I cleared my throat, placing my bag on the floor as I rummaged through it to grab the same brown leather booklet he left in class. “You forgot this.”

Pony was swift to move towards me, grabbing the book from my hands and flipping through each page to observe the state of it. A sigh of relief was quick to escape his lips once he realized it was still in-tact. “Damn, I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, that’s why … I grabbed it.” Once again, we were engulfed in the quietude, no new words able to be mustered between us. It was all the more reason for me to get the hell out of there, pretend that none of this had ever happened. “Well, goodbye.”

A loud abrupt slam forced me to avert my attention, a sense of distraction that kept me from turning on the balls of my feet. “You gonna invite her in Pony?!” I narrowed my eyes, observing a younger boy pressed against the film of the window. His blue collared shirt was fully unbuttoned, exposing the streak of dirt and gas that covered his chest.

“Oh man, I love bird-watching.” The same thick voice that spoke up earlier was heard right after, only he didn’t have a work shirt on. It appeared as though he was fonder of cartoons, wearing a Mickey Mouse cut off that showed the muscles he acquired overtime.

I lightly tilted my head, confused at the random comment the boy, who I now gathered as Two-Bit, had made about bird watching. But Pony was quick to speak back up, taking me away from peering up at the sky for any Cardinals. “How do you know where I live?”

“I don’t – well, I didn’t … I followed you.” He seemed taken aback by that comment, unsure if that was meant as a compliment or a threat. So, I rambled back on again, making the situation even more awkward than it already was. “I mean, I don’t normally follow you – or anyone for that matter … I just wanted to give it to you today, in case you needed it to finish your essay over the weekend.”

He nodded slowly in understanding, a hint of disbelief still resonating off of him. “Yeah … Well, I already finished the essay.”

“But, you said that you didn’t,” Now it was my turn to be confused. “I don’t understand, why lie?”

“Didn’t need a good for nothing Soc on my case, wasn’t in the mood for it today.” He shoved the journal into the back of his pants, his eyes now fixated on the area behind me.

“Dennis – he … yeah, no there’s actually no redeeming qualities about him,” Pony chuckled along with me, finding humor that I also couldn’t fathom the idea of the horrid Soc boy we shared a class with. “Well, if it’s any constellation I’m cranked to hear what you wrote.”

Pony nodded at my compliment, taking a bit of courage from that statement; but it was soon overshadowed once a dark cloud hovered over me. I scrunched the tip of my nose, confused as to why his posture had switched so suddenly.

Did I have lipstick on my teeth?

Yet my questions were shortly answered once a pair of hands covered my eyes, encasing me in a darkness. “You got to be more careful out in these areas sweetheart, might find yourself kidnapped.”

Read the whole chapter here: The Runaways | Quotev

[lamnwar]

Hii! I really love your stories and writing style and since i saw your requests are open, I'd love to request a NSFW with Akashi where it's both, his and reader's first time, with lots of fluff if possible and if you want!!

If you decide to write it, thank you in advance! <3

Omgggg can't believe it took me 6 months to complete this request I swear I momentarily forgot how to write smut 😭😭 hope you still enjoy this though, I felt bad so this one is extra long (4.7k) <33

You're My First // Akashi Seijurō x Fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

Context: Might have taken you and your boyfriend Seijurō way too long to finally have sex, whoops! All characters are aged-up (18+) for plot purposes.

Warnings: mainly fluff till the last quarter, mention of reader (and Akashi a bit) being sexually frustrated, mention of masturbation (both Akashi and reader do it), kissing obvs, handjob, fingering, protected sex (because Akashi is a gentleman 🥰)

The wooden tile strategically placed on the board, Seijurō's game partner sighs. It's a force of habit: can you ever win against a guy like him? You chuckle, arms wrapping around your boyfriend's shoulders as you kiss his cheek.

“What is it that you say? Your victory is absolute?” you whisper loud enough for Shintarō to hear you.

“Please, no need to add more to my defeat” the green haired man readjusts his glasses, seemingly unbothered by his loss but you aren't dupe.

A smile on your lips, you let your fingers run through Seijurō's red hair. His shogi playmate looks away, like all the times you show some sort of affection to your boyfriend. Throwing his jacket over his broad shoulders, Midorima excuses himself by saying that he's got practice. It figures, you think, Seijurō's friends are players like no other. You wave him goodbye as he walks out, and once his tall figure is out of sight, you let out a soft sigh.

“Sei?”

He looks up from the board with a softness in his gaze, putting the tiles back in their designated bag. Akashi Seijurō conceits his emotions quite well, that's a well-known fact. But the minute he fell in love with you, he's learned to open up. From talking about his mother to how basketball saved him from his darkest times, the Seijurō you know is exclusive – no one, not even Midorima that he's fond of, has any knowledge of the depth of his person. But you don't bother: he's your one and only, isn't he?

“Coming to my place tonight?” He asks.

You breathe in, like every time he asks. Most of the time, there is no meaning to these words. Nights of shy touches, nights of "sorry love, I can't". You ponder if you should refuse. You have needs, don't you? Of course you do. More than touch-starved, you crave love to a level that you feel Seijurō is not ready for.

“Sure thing” you utter, incapable of turning him down.

A light brings his eyes to life, and you feel your heart melt.

Isn't he sweet, your Sei-chan?

A thought you never believed you’d ever had, on the day you met him; an afternoon in May, both of you finding yourself in the same isle of the library, looking for the same book.

“It's in my recommended reading list” you said, not willing to back down.

“Funny, my professor wrote this one.”

His arrogance turned you off, but then, he organized a special lecture for your class with the author of said book, leaving your own lecturer in awe and you wondering why he did such thing for someone who meant nothing. Took you long enough to realize that you actually meant something to him. He asked you out right after that lecture and now here you are.

“Sei, let me treat you. We’re having celebratory diner for your victory in shogi” You stretch out of your spot, hands swaying to your hips as you smile to your boyfriend.

“My love, if we have a celebratory diner every time I win, you’ll end up broke.”

You scoff, nudging him in the arm. His arrogance ever so often pops out, but in a rather endearing way. In the right settings, you find yourself thinking, it might even be attractive – but you guard yourself from admitting so.

“We’re eating to my place instead” he says as his arm finds your shoulders, wrapping around it with the grace that could only be associated to him.

You raise an eyebrow but doesn’t refuse the invitation. The last rays of sun cast on your faces as you both walk in the late summer evening, between the distant laughter of children and the sounds of birds going home. And amidst all of what soothes your soul, nothing compares to the way you feel at this exact moment, walking so close to the one you love. It’s a subtle feeling, one that you don’t bother to describe, that makes things so easy when he’s around. And you just need to glance for a second in his direction, to see it. The way he makes you feel, written all over your face.

Seijurō is silent, yet, from the dancing flame in his eyes, you can guess that something is brewing in his head. You smile, a soft chuckle coming out of your lips. You know he hates it, when you’re able to read him so easily; he told you once, “I’ve always thought of myself as hard to decipher”. Not so much though, or at least, not to you.

“Sei, you seem nervous despite having an awfully good day.”

Your remark gets him to straighten up as he walks, a quick raise of his eyebrows indicating that you took him by surprise.

“Can’t a guy be nervous around his girlfriend?”

“My…” you chuckle, “don’t put it on me now. What’s up? It’s not the first time I’m coming over, although I’d argue it’s not a common occurrence.”

“Well, you know – “

“You might do things you'll regret if I come by too often, I know” you cut him off.

You both stay silent for a minute; your words having brought up the memories of countless of discussions around this topic. Seijurō has never outrightly told you why he barely has you over, why he cuts your dates short when things start to escalate, why every time you take the level of intimacy up a notch, he is the first one to grow distance between you. It’s always some vague excuse that you don’t really understand, but you try your best not to judge. Intimacy, after all, is not a given to everybody.

“But you know, I don’t think I’ll regret anything I do with you.” You say, cutting short to the long silence. “I mean, as long as it’s you and that… you know. I just wanna say, I trust you with these things. I wouldn’t be with you overwise.”

You quickly glance in his direction, in search of a reaction from your boyfriend. You don’t know if your words are clear enough to him – not that it’s been your kind (or his kind) to be straightforward. Yet, you still manage to get yourself to be understood, despite never saying things outright. So you just hope that he’s got the message clear; and he does, you figure, by the small nod he gives as you approach his place.

“I’ll treat you to a lovely diner tonight, then. And if you don’t mind, you can spend the night.”

You stare at him, incredulous. Have you heard that last part right? Seijurō always speaks with assurance, but these aren’t words he’s used to speak.

“Oh, y-yeah…” you clean your throat, hand clumsily trying to hide your blush.

This is a turn of situations you haven’t expected whatsoever, but as you walk into the familiar lobby of Seijurō’s place, you realize soon enough that this is real. Unusual, but real.

And then it hits you.

The reason he seems nervous, the reason he’s invited you over in the first place, and why he’s asked you to stay over from the start. It comes clear, especially knowing him. The young man has always been one to plan things out, especially important things. And if you read the situation correctly, tonight is not born out of nothing.

Maybe he’s finally taken notice of the small clues you’ve left, traces of your desire for more. The way your hands linger longer on his body when you touch him, the sweet perfume you wear on your neck in hope whiffs draw him in, the elongated looks you’ve sent him for weeks now. Sweet, innocent eyes, yet eyes ready for more, if he’s only willing to give you an opportunity.

And willing, to your surprise, he is. Something feels different when you walk the threshold of his place; it’s not the soft smell of lavender you’ve grown familiar with, it’s not the warm shade of the light, it’s not the way he hangs his jacket on the hanger at the door. So, what is it?

“Love, are you coming?” His voice brings you out of your thoughts.

You breathe out a short “yes”, joining him in the kitchen. Your gaze fall upon the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, as he rinses vegetables for diner. The way he moves with grace and confidence while you’re still trying to process what this whole night means stuns you, and you sit, in contemplation of whether you should address the subject.

How are you supposed to ask your boyfriend if you’re having sex for the first time tonight, anyways?

You contemplate, ultimately concluding that being direct is the best way to go about it. Well, that is, if you even know how to be direct in the way you address the subject. So you stand, looming over his shoulders as he stirs some onion and garlic in the pan, shy hands locking behind your back. He hums, an assured smile creeping on his lips as he feels your presence in his back. He’s seemingly way more relaxed about this night than you are – but then again, Seijurō is the last person on Earth to show any sign of nervousness. His hand reaches back to you, gently dragging your face closer to land a kiss on your forehead.

“What’s that, love? Are you the nervous one, now?”

He chuckles as you stare at him, baffled. Are you doing such a terrible job at hiding it?

“Can’t tell me you’re all chill about tonight either” you retaliate.

“Oh, but I am.”

“When did you decide to make tonight the night, anyway?”

He turns off the stove, flipping the veggies one last time.

“I had that idea in mind for a while, but I wanted to make sure that you wanted it as well” he replies honestly, “so when you said that you trusted me earlier, I had all the confirmation that I needed.”

You nod, sitting on the counter.

“And you’re really gonna make me think you’re not nervous at all about it?” you cock an eyebrow.

His silence leaves you uncertain – something that annoys you ever so often. Your ability to read him better than anyone else has always been your pride, so these moments where he strips you from your special ability to comprehend him always annoys you.

“Seijurō.”

He looks up in your direction, his eyes open slightly as he hears your tone. It’s not cold, or mean, or stern. But it’s serious, well serious beyond what he’s used to hear from you. He sighs, joining you as his pinkie finger gently grazes your hand.

“If you don’t want to, we don’t have to do it.” He sighs. “Maybe we should have talked about it before…”

“It’s fine. If we did, it would have ruined the mood.”

“Because there’s a mood to ruin to begin with?”

You chuckle, finger interlocking with his.

“Oh, I’m crazy nervous, but it doesn't make me any less… eager than I’ve always been.”

He raises an eyebrow, slight amusement on his face. You can’t help but chuckle a bit at his expression. Suddenly, seeing him smile so wholeheartedly makes (most) of your nerves go away. Maybe that’s what he does to you, and maybe that’s why you stick around. You let out a soft giggle, before looking at him.

“Anyways. Do you have any idea how the night where you lose your virginity typically goes?”

“I was relying on you to have an answer on that.”

You scoff, a heartfelt laugh coming out of your throat. The sight of you like that makes the blood pump to his face; a light pink blush painting his cheek as he laughs too. He doesn’t even know what gets you to laugh like that – head thrown back as the little crinkles by your eyes that he loves so much appears, but it warms his heart like nothing else can.

“Damn, we’re two big virgins, aren’t we?” you say as you sigh dramatically.

“For some reason, I imagined that you would have been more knowledgeable than me on that topic.”

“Seijurō, who do you think I am?!”

He chuckles; a slightly high-pitched sound that rarely comes out of him unless he’s with you. Because this is what you do to him, letting his true nature shine through from time to time – whether it be his radiant smile, the pink on his cheeks every time he’s near you, or the kindness of his amber eyes.

“Well… you know I’m not one to half-ass anything, but it’s not the easiest thing to do some studying on.”

“I see.” You nod, fingers interlocking with his. “But we trust each other, don’t we?”

He hums, looking at you. And that’s when you see it in his eyes, that glimmer that tells you without stuttering that he is absolutely sure about this, you and him, but mostly you.

“Can’t go wrong if it’s us, yeah?”

His words travel in your mind as he slowly leans towards you. His thumb caresses the soft skin of your bottom lip, before he leaves a sweet and soft kiss on it. It feels almost nostalgic, a kiss similar to the one you first exchanged when you just started dating. The warmth in your heart and the gentleness of his fingers on your skin, all reminiscent of the kisses you experienced when you were falling for him. And now that you have fell, the idea of feeling these kisses all over again makes your heart beat frenetically. You kiss him once again, your hand resting on the soft skin of his cheeks as you pour your love in that single kiss. He pulls away, hot breath falling on your lips as his eyes capture you, forbidding you to look anywhere else.

“Is it crazy if I tell you I am absolutely sure about this, in this very instant?” he mutters against your lips.

You hum, shaking your head. It’s not crazy, the thought has crossed your mind, too. And maybe that’s a sign; for the little that you know on the topic, overthinking things usually isn’t the way to go. It’s more one of these “if you know, you know” moments.

And right now, this is it.

Just one look, and he grabs your hand, taking you both to the bedroom – not before covering up the sautéed veggies he’s cooked earlier, of course (Seijurō, even in desperate need for you, wouldn’t leave freshly made food uncovered). You giggle, body lying on the soft mattress of his bed; bed that you’ve shared multiple times without ever crossing the line.  And here you are, fingers tangling in his soft, red locks, too lost in a haze of desire to think of the hardship it has been all along to not act on your needs for him, for his touch.

“Sei, I want you, you know that?”

“You made it quite clear, yeah” he blushes softly as a sweet laugh comes out of his lips. “And I know it’s not very gentleman-like of me to say it, but baby, if I could, I would strip you naked right away.”

“Do it then, who’s stopping you?”

He raises an eyebrow, pink painting his cheek as he sees the daring look in your eyes.

“My... I’m no savage, I had to make sure you wanted me to.”

You laugh, leaving a sweet kiss on his jaw.

“Baby, I’ve got years of pent-up sexual frustration about to get unleashed. Please, do not be a gentleman with me tonight.”

He looks at you curiously, not expecting his sweet girlfriend to utter such words. Yet he feels his cock twitch in the confine of his pants when he hears you speak like that. Something about your tone – so clear and confident, with a hint of need, makes the blood rush down to his aching member. The one he used to stroke once you were gone from his place, mad at himself that he didn’t gather the strength to touch you despite knowing that it was what you both wanted; and he found himself angry at himself and in desperate need for you, stroking his dick shamefully as he thought of you.

But here you are, under his body, your tongue leaving the sweet taste of you in his mouth as you push him as close to you as possible.

He pulls away, heavy breath fanning on your hot skin. It’s almost by instinct that he lets his hand trail down to the hem of your shirt, tugging on it as if to ask if he can remove it from you. And he does when you give him a nod, loving eyes examining all parcels of skin that gets unveiled before him. He’s delicate and meticulous, removing piece by piece with so much regard for the fabric that you’re almost tempted to tell him to just rip it off. He has always had that theory about you – one that he finally gets to confirm.

You are, indeed, a piece of art.

The beauty of your skin, the marks, moles and scars, the curves and angles. All so perfectly mixed like you were created by an artist and no less. He stops for a minute, wondering: does he have any right to touch something so immaculate?

But you’re quick to give him an answer, when your hands remove his shirt, letting you get a sight at his body. Seijurō is surprising. His build is slender, delicate; but when your fingers trace the outline of his muscles, it becomes clear that he is more than he appears to be. Not that you’ve ever been curious about his body either. One thing that you’ve always liked about your boyfriend, is his face. His features are soaked in grace, always having the look of a prince in all situations – even in the morning when he’s just wakened up, or after practice when he’s sweaty. He’s got that same look, over and over, that makes you believe you must have done something great in your past life to find yourself someone like him in this one.

“Sei, I wanna touch you, can I?”

He smiles softly. Your request is sweet, almost innocent. He can’t say no, he doesn’t want to.

“Be nice, yeah?” He leaves a peck on your cheek.

You giggle – who would have guessed that he’d make you feel like a silly teenage girl in love right now? Your hand trails down his body, meticulously exposing his skin. It’s soft and warm, and now you understand why his hugs always feel so good. Your movements slow down when you reach his belt, eyes widening slightly at the sigh of the bulge in his pants. It’s not the first time that you see it – you’ve noticed it in the previous nights you had a sleepover – but this time, you ought to do something about it.

“Ah – oh my…” his breath hitches in his throat as your fingers reach inside his pants, pulling the fabric down to unleash his cock.

It’s a bold move on your part, one that gets you to blush furiously once you see his erected member before your eyes. It’s pretty, you think, much more than you expected it to be. A delicate curve that leads to a blush pink tip – sensitive, you notice as your finger curiously brushes over it. You explore, hand wrapping around his length as you give him gentle caresses.

“Is that good, Sei?”

“Amazing, love… please don’t stop.”

You hum, letting your fingers translate your curiosity by the way they explore every inch of skin you find, watching him shiver when you touch some places, sigh when you touch others. So… this is it, you think, a man’s pleasure. You continue, watching him twitch in your hold. You look up at him, sparkles in your eyes.

“Sei, do you love my touch?”

His fingers run through your locks, a soft smile on his face.

“I have to, it comes from you.”

Pulling you up to pepper your face in kisses, you can almost cry. It's never hit you before, how much your boyfriend actually loves you. But you can’t deny that look in his eyes – love and lust painting his irises like night lights.

Beautiful, like him.

Enchanting, like him.

Loving, like him.

“Sweetheart” his voice falls in your ear in a soft murmur, “I’ll need you to stop fiddling with my cock with those soft fingers of yours or I won’t be able to contain myself anymore.”

“Oh… Oh!” you blush, pulling your hands away. “Got carried away. A man’s anatomy is a curious thing” you remark.

He raises an eyebrow, laying you down on the mattress.

“I could say the same thing about a woman’s body, particularly yours…” he taunts, thumb tracing down your throat to your perky nipple.

You hiss, surprised look at the way he touches you like a scientist making a new discovery. His touch is exploring. He rolls the sensitive bud between his fingers, observing the way your body folds in response.

“Sei! Ah… sensitive!”

“I know.”

You ogle at him, only getting him to laugh with a bit of mischief in his voice. And you get reminded at this moment that this is who he is. Seijurō is a learner, getting his kick in mastering new skills. And for a man that has never done it before, he is surprisingly skilled in touching your body. As his lips trail down your abdomen to your navel, you hold your breath. On the moment, countless thoughts cross your mind. Did you shave this morning? What if he finds out about this one mole on your pubis and freaks out? Doesn’t it look a bit weird down there?

“Good lord…”

Fuck.

You panic even more upon hearing his exclamation; what does it mean?!

“My love, are all vulvas like yours? Because it looks so pretty…”

“Huh?”

You’re stunned, speechless. It isn’t quite the compliment you could ever wish for. To be honest, you’ve been too scared to take a proper look at your own cunt before, so all the sense you have of it comes from what you’ve gathered from your touch. You’re familiar with the ridges, soft bulging parts and folds, but what has always been mere anatomy to you, seems to be art in Seijurō’s eyes. His curious finger runs through your slit, separating the lips as you blush furiously. His movements are teasing – you wonder if he’s doing it purposely or is it just a mishap of his exploring. Either way, you bite back your whimpers, watching him brush against your clitoris softly, while you squirm.

“Sei that’s uh…”

“Here? You want my touch here, love?”

You nod eagerly, observing the way he looks at you from between your legs, finger gently circling around your clit. Your hips buck forward, setting a rhythm to which he adapts his moves.

“You’re getting wet… do you mind if I put a finger in?”

“Please!”

You quickly cover your mouth, surprised by how needy you sounded just now. Such tone has never gotten out of you; except late at night, in the solitude of your room when you’d think of him, frustrated fingers toying with your clit as you would almost cry thinking about how much you craved Seijurō’s touch. But now that you have it, it’s a different thing. It’s much more intense, like your skin is a fragile flame, and his touch is fuel. He pours, your flame grows, and grows, and grows.

“Fuck… I…” You pant, far from expecting his fingers to know your cunt so well – isn’t that supposed to be his first time, too?!

“Everything’s alright?” he asks between two kisses on your inner thighs.

Your lips tremble, one arm pressed against your forehead while your other hand holds the bed sheets like your life depends on it.

“I think I’m close” you finally manage to say.

“Want me to stop?”

“…” you think for a moment, too overwhelmed to have an idea of what you truly want – but you do give reason to your body, eventually, “Don’t stop.”

He leaves a sweet peck on the skin of your thigh, working his fingers till you squirm, your warm walls pushing him out as you reach your orgasm – first one that he’s brought you to. He props his body up to kiss you with all the love he has for you, and you pull him close, goosebumps covering your skin when you feel his naked body against yours. He’s so soft, so loving, it can almost make you cry.

He’s just… love. That’s what he is, the embodiment of love.

“Baby, should we go all the way?”

You nod, kissing him again, and again, drunk on him.

“Please say it with your sweet voice” he murmurs against your lips.

“Seijurō, please make love to me.”

He nods, the tenderness in his eyes giving you the kind of warmth you’ve always craved. It stays, even when he gets up to get a condom, and even when he stands before you, hard-on in his palm as he rolls the rubber on it. You look with stars in your eyes when he hovers above you, leaving a peck on your forehead.

“I’m going in, alright?”

“Yeah” you breathe out.

Your nervous, trying to distract yourself of the stinging feeling when his head pushes in, so you look at his face. His half-lidded eyes, his parted lips as his hot breath fans on your face, and the contraction of his shoulders as his hold himself above you.

“Are you good, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, feeling tears coming up. You can’t tell if you’re just overwhelmed or if it’s that novel pain you feel in that part of your body. Seijurō’s furrow his eyebrows in concern, stilling as he looks at you.

“Shall I stop?”

“Let’s… don’t move. I wanna get used to it.”

“Sure?”

You nod, take big breaths to calm yourself down. Leaving kisses after kisses on your forehead, you feel yourself relax a bit, eventually giving him the thumbs-up to push deeper. And he does, slowly, carefully, like your pussy is the most precious place in the world and that he, a mere mortal, should only thread carefully around it.

“Here you go” he coos “taking me so well…”

You mewl, hands wrapped around his neck, as he starts his slow thrusts. You wonder for a minute if he’s pacing himself as to be careful, or because he’s afraid of not being able to hold himself back overwise. Either way, you slowly find pleasure in the feeling of his cock roaming inside your walls – in and out, deep and slow. Seijurō’s soft grunts falls in your ear, making you shiver.

“You feel… ah… so good, love” his voice is slightly more high-pitched, hints of desperation tinting his timbre.

“Please, faster…”

“Is that what you want, hm?”

“Yeah” you moan out as your hips buck to meet the movements of his.

He pants, the look in his eyes being something you’ve never seen before. It’s not something you can comprehend, but seeing that light danse in his amber irises, combined with his slender finger toying with your clit, you feel your high build up. And explosion of sensations, taking your entire soul to another dimension as you squeal his name, holding on to him like he’s your saviour.

“Fuck, I…”

You giggle in surprise, not ever recalling hearing him swear before. But can he be blamed, when the tight hold your pussy has on him is just so heavenly?

“I’m… love, I’m cumming!”

Those words alone send you into a frenzy, the song of both your moans filling up the room, the same way his hot seed fills up the condom, seconds before he gives out, head falling on your chest.

“I love you” you whisper, just a bit louder than the erratic beat of your hearts.

He looks up at you, incapable of voicing an answer, but you’ve known Seijurō’s face well enough to read his thoughts.

You’re his biggest victory, he believes, being here in this bed, closer to you than he’s ever been before.

[thechillsquid]

Blind Eyes Au- Apologies

Okay so this was supposed to be a drabble writing but it just kept getting longer and kinda just became a whole oneshot so uh yeah

Warnings for some content: Casual body horror, heavily implied drinking various dangerous chemicals (but Bill’s fine he’s a demon but still), threats of violence, injury, blood, trauma, paranoia, panic, etc.

—

All things considered, Bill wasn’t doing too shabby, though perhaps he’d pushed it with that last drink he’d had, but cmon! How else was he supposed to get a good buzz when all this human liquor barely made him tipsy, cyanide always did add a little spice! Well, that and whatever else he’d poured into that red solo cup before swallowing it whole, he forgot what had all been under Tate’s sink.

He ran his tongue lazily over an eye (doing very inhuman things in a vaguely human shape was hilarious!) and swayed a moment as he tried to figure which way the shack was. Ugh, he rolled his eyes into the back of his head, letting the forest go still and silent around himself before snapping back to attention when he’d recalled the path.

The demon hummed to himself and when he swayed just once more too many times, he let the human guise crumble in on itself. There was one satisfying crunch, a few squelches for flavor, and he scurried along on an array of spindly legs, body more sleek and reptilian in nature as his now lone eye stared up at the sky in almost an absent nature.

He just wanted to get back home, gorge himself on whatever snacks were in the fridge, and then possibly fall asleep under Stan’s bed (a good hiding spot to avoid Fordsey’s vengeful stare). Bill didn’t even take a moment to think about who may have also been awake this late in the night, crawling about the building as he got closer.

He flicked out a black-forked tongue, skittering about the perimeter and making certain that Ford hadn’t found a way yet to expel him from the shack. He didn’t see anything notable, eyeing the ground as he cautioned a few steps at a time until right against the wall just shy the kitchen window.

With all the ease and elegance a drunk eldritch monster could manage, Bill slipped the window open and forced his mass through, spilling out into the surrounding area before picking himself back up. Literally, as in he had to scoop up parts of himself that tumbled off, whoops!

He squashed himself back together and crawled to the fridge, prying it open with gnashing teeth and twitching claws, multiple eyes peeling open to peer inside. Ugh, what did they have that no one would miss immediately… few eggs, like a cup of milk… lettuce… maybe some butter sticks would do for now…?

As he shifted into something more human adjacent again (made things easier with the stupid lil opposable thumbs and he was wayyyyy too drunk to float properly so lengthy hairless ape it was!) he just barely noticed a creak in the floorboards. He glanced over, slowly shoving a butter stick into his mouth, little plastic wrapping and all.

A chill ran down his spine as he saw none other than Stanford Pines standing there, just… greaaaat. Bill chewed his mouthful slowly, eyes glancing quickly to the window as he held the other butter stick. Would it be better for him to just leave or…?

His stupid drunk fucking mouth spoke for him, “Heeeeeeeyyyyy, gurrrrl, howww we doin?”

Bill mentally lit himself on fire. Ford stared, the bags under his eyes were heavy and dark, “What are you doing here, Cipher.” Oh yeeesh, there was that whole growl to the guys voice right now, properly pissed the hell off.

The demon casually held up the other stick of butter a bit higher, slurring his words, “Look… I’mma just here for likeee, uh, snack.”

“Get out,” the man said shortly.

An annoyingly reasonable voice in Bill’s head that sounded suspiciously like Fidds told him to just for once in his life do as he was told without a fight. The louder voice in his head however was a bit more stubborn. “Is that whatcha said to good ole Fez, too? I know you’re going to kick him out the very moment those kids leave, him and Fidds gone from your life the soonest time possible. You can’t stand none of us can you?”

Ford took a few dangerous steps forward and if Bill was admittedly a bit more sober he would have noticed the way one of the guy’s hands was settled suspiciously over one hip. However, all he could focus on was the utter anger that flashed through the man’s eyes, the sheer hatred that sat there. “Dont talk like you know my brother or friend, demon,” he spat.

“I’ve known them longer than you cared to,” he responded snidely, moving to turn back to the fridge’s contents. That’s when he made his second grave mistake after not leaving when first told, turning his back on one of the most dangerous people in the multiverse besides himself.

There was a sound of fabric, the deep rumble of an inhuman snarl, and the cold metal of something being pressed to the back of Bill’s head. Ah. That was probably not good.

“What’s your game, Cipher?” Ford’s words were a low hiss now, right next to his ear, “If you even lay a finger on any of my family—“

“I care about them, too.” The words again slipped from his mouth on their own accord, Bill flinching harshly at his own words. Oh he had not meant to say that—

The gun clicked and he stilled, carefully settling his snack back on a shelf as he slowly moved to hold his hands up in surrender. He wasn’t sure what kind of a gun was against his head and he was realizing fast that unless he wanted to cause a whole fiasco, he better sober up and soon.

“I’m going to kill you,” Ford said in a hoarse voice.

Bill was surprised he hadn’t pulled the trigger already, giving out a weak chuckle, “Fordsey, there are kids asleep upstairs, how’s bout we—“

“Don’t! Dont bring them into this!”

The demon twitched at the man’s volume, listening tensely for any sounds of activity other than the panicked breathing from Fordsey behind him. “Okay— okay,” he finally agreed, hands still raised in the air. Yikes this was going south fast, wasn’t it? He swallowed down a giggle, but well well well— if it wasn’t the consequences of his own actions come to bite him in the angle once again!

“Why are you really here, Cipher?”

He was asking himself the same damned thing the longer this went on. “I dunno,” he sighed, cautiously turning his head so he could see the other. Being a bit closer to the man certainly made the bloodshot eyes more notable, as well as the subtle shake in the man’s stance. “Here… how bout we just go outside and talk…?”

“Why the hell would you want to do that,” the way Ford bared his teeth must have been a habit picked up from his travelings, it looked nearly feral. Bill kind of liked it, pausing to mentally brush the thought aside. Focus! There is a gun to your head that might actually be able to kill you and a very, very pissed Fordsey wielding it!

“Because, if you shoot me in here, you might shoot through some structural support and end up hurting someone else,” he said slowly, it was always good to play to Sixer’s logic when he got worked up. Though he also never thought that something like this would happen, so, maybe he was making a bigger gamble than he was realizing?

Thankfully, it seemed to make the guy think just a bit about where they were, his eyes darting away just a moment to glance out the room. “Make one wrong move and I’ll kill you.”

“It’s a d—“ Bill quickly bit his tongue, “Yup. Whatever you say.”

Ford kept the gun at his head as they made their way outside, Bill closing one eye to briefly check on the others in the shack, relieved and a bit annoyed that everyone was still sleeping away. Easing himself down, the demon sat down and glanced up at Ford, as long as the human was in a position of power and control, hopefully that’d help calm him some.

“You wanted to talk,” the man scowled, “So talk.”

“Thank you.” Bill could see the way Ford stiffened, a brief look of confusion crossing over his face before melting back into annoyance as the demon kept talking, “I really don’t want, you know, trouble or anything here, pal—“

Ford snatched him up by the collar of his shirt, honestly it was pretty impressive how quickly he moved at his age, “I’m not your pal.”

He nodded easily, “Okay, okay, slip of the tongue, I’m sorry—“

He was let go suddenly and in his surprise at the sudden lack of contact, his face had a lovely meeting with the ground. He hissed, quickly popping back up, “Ow.”

Bill looked up and squinted, wiping at the blood dripping from his nose now. Ford was giving him one hell of a look right now. “What? I got somethin’ on my face or what?”

“You just, nevermind.” Ford eyed him a moment, “You can bleed?”

“You want a sample?” He mused, wiping the silvery gore from his hand off onto the ground, “I got a physical form nowadays so I gotta whole bunch of blood and guts and stuff in here.” He dusted himself off as he spoke, sitting criss-cross and letting his nose just bleed.

The gun lowered just a bit. Oh, the nerd totally wanted a sample, didn’t he? This… this might be a good way to get a truce going actually! He’d have to be careful with his apologizes, but maybe having something to focus on that was logical and quantifiable would ease Sixer’s paranoia and fears? Great! He was so clever, ha!

“How’s bout, I get let back in the shack, and I’ll answer whatever questions you can think up and you can collect just bout all the samples you could want? Blood, teeth, I got just about anything and everything.” He tilted his head, moving a hand up to carefully prod at his nose. Thankfully, it seemed the bleeding was chilling out, so that was good, he did not need questions from anyone else. “What do you say, IQ?”

“And if I refuse?”

“I… uh, I guess I’ll sleep in a tree or something…?” He gestured towards the woods with a shrug.

“…do you even need to sleep…?”

“I could ask you the same thing, eye bags.”

Ford scowled, “I wonder who’s fault that is.”

Aah. Yeaaaaah. Bill winced, shooting the guy finger guns, “My bad, I won’t push it.”

Sixer was giving him that weird look again and Bill steadily gazed back, waiting. “And whats the catch, what do you get out of this?”

“Outta what?” He asked, squinting.

“…this damned truce or whatever you want to call it you demon!”

“Oh. Oh yeaaaah,” he nodded, scratching at his chin thoughtfully. “So you want a cheap answer or a real one?” When Ford only stared at him, he held his hands up once more. “Alright, alright, look, I got a sweet gig going on here and I’m a bit drunk at the moment, but I kinda have grown to like this place and I might be engaged to Fidds, so yeah. Is kinda like I got family or something and I don’t want to lose it. Blah blah blah, emotional bullshit.”

“Yeah righ— what did you just say about you and Fiddleford—“

“He’s putting a ring on it,” he said proudly, holding a hand out and pointing at a finger, “Riiiiiigggghhht here, just uhhh. Wait fuck. Did I ask him yet… no he asked me I think? One of us did.”

“If you so much as—“

“Please just shut up, Ford.” Bill rubbed at the bridge of his nose, “I’ve heard that line so many fucking times by now, just. Do we got a truce or what?” Out of habit he held out a hand before catching the other’s look and quickly putting it down.

“I… suppose. For now.”

Bill gave a sigh of relief, “Amazing, now if you don’t mind, I’m going to crawl under Stan’s bed and pass the fuck out—“

“You’re what—“

“—byeeeeeeee!” He shot finger guns and before Stanford could change his mind, he melted into a puddle of black goo and eyes and slipped under the door leading back inside.

[aelinschild]

Worth the Wait

I forgot what is was like to hyperfixate on something, so enjoy the overflow of content while it happens! Here's a quick drabble from this morning.

SYNOPSIS: Rowan takes the drive home slowly, careful of the precious cargo in the backseat. WORDCOUNT: 857 WARNINGS: Kids, mentions of labour, Rowan being silly, Fluff

Main Masterlist

Rowan had never driven with such care. 

Every corner was gentle, each stop had him slowing down far earlier. His eyes were everywhere, analyzing every car on the road. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, and his body tensed with the leftover adrenaline from the hospital. Nothing slipped his perception.

Especially the cooing in the backseat. 

At an intersection, once he had rolled to a slow stop and deemed it safe enough to peer into the rear-view mirror, he took a look at his everything in the backseat. 

Aelin was seated in the middle seat, glowing but tired. She was leaning over the newest addition to their small family. Their daughter. Buckled up as securely as possible, she had her mother's eyes watching her every move. 

Aelin didn't move under Rowan’s watchful eyes, preferring to stare into her baby’s face. She was exceptionally uncomfortable in this position, her stomach a little sore, and generally feeling a little gross, but it didn't matter because she had this moment. Finally, after months of waiting, they were driving their daughter home with them. 

Their beautiful little girl, Evie Rhylie Whitethorn Galathynius. 

It was too early to tell, but when she let out the first shrill cry in the delivery room and opened her eyes to the world for the first time, she had light blue eyes. The doctor told them there was a chance that they would deepen to green, and Aelin saw Rowan’s smirk in the corner of her eye when their doctor said that. 

It didn't matter to Aelin, as she gently brushed her hand over her daughter’s little tufts of blonde hair, whatever she looked like didn't matter, she’d love her unconditionally anyway. 

“I'm so proud of you, fireheart,” Rowan whispered from up front, his voice full of awe. 

“Thank you,” Aelin met Rowan’s cloudy eyes in the rear-view mirror and gave him a watery smile to match. 

-

Rowan was out of the car immediately when he put it in park, rushing towards the front door to unlock it and push it open, then running back to the car to grab the hospital bag and the surplus of other things from the hospital. Running back to the house to drop those things off, then standing in the front entryway, pleased with himself for the organization. 

“Uh, Rowan?” Came Aelin’s voice from outside. “You forgetting something?”

He was confused very briefly, the baby! “Shit. Coming!” 

As he rushed back out to where his wife and daughter were in the back of the car, he could hear Aelin’s tired laugh. He felt a hot blush rise to his cheeks, whoops, he thought. 

Opening the door, he was met with the tiny human that was his daughter, bundled up in a forest green onesie with a little bear hat, knitted by Auntie Lysandra. She was still fast asleep, tuckered out from all the crying and cuddling she had done earlier. 

He unlatched the carrier from its spot in the car, with near-perfect form, having practiced this before the baby’s birth. Lifting Evie gently from the car, and setting the carrier down very gently on the drive, making sure it wasn't going anywhere, before turning back to Aelin in the backseat. 

She was smiling brightly. “Sorry.” He mumbled shyly. 

“Super-Dad already, don't worry it's very sexy.” 

“Super-Dad who forgot his daughter and wife in the car, surefire turn on, huh?” He joked as he let Aelin grab onto his shoulders, grabbing onto her hips to gently help her out of the car. She let out a little ‘oof’ one she was standing, clearly in need of some recovery. 

“Super,” Deep breath, “sexy.” 

“Okay, enough of that, let's get you to bed.” He said, placing a heavy arm around her waist to stabilize her walk inside, then grabbing the carrier with a gentleness that broke and remade Aelin’s heart.

“Take a girl to dinner first.” Aelin joked as they walked inside. 

Rowan snorted. “I think we are a little past that already.” And simultaneously they both looked down at little Evie, who had decided to wake up at that moment, making little gurgling noises and lifting her little arms. 

Crossing over the entrance to their house, Rowan couldn't be happier. He was worn out, surviving on shitty hospital coffee and the leftovers of adrenaline from the birth a day and a half ago, but he was happy. 

He was a father now. A father to his little Evie, and a husband to Aelin, and it was going to be a sleepless few months, and it was going to be hard, but he was so happy, it was overflowing. He set the carrier down again, let go of Aelin, and turned around to lock the car, then close and lock the front door, before sweeping Aelin into a – gentle – bear-hug, and dropping kisses all over her tired face. 

She let out a tired giggle before hugging him back. “I love you, Ro” 

“I love you far more, Fireheart.” 

Evie, obviously feeling left out, let out a little cry, wanting Mom and Dad’s attention. 

“We love you even more, Little Evie.”

Taglist: @backtobl4ck 

Thank you for reading!! Likes, reblogs (Especially with your guy's comments :') oml) are extremely appreciated. Have a lovely day!!

[britany1997]

I'm so glad your requests are open! You're my favorite when it comes to writing Paul. Would you be able to do a fiction based on Paul by big thief? Smut would be amazing but I'd take anything from you! thank you so much

Starry-Eyed Lovers

Omg your favorite??? I’m crying🥹 Thank you so much, I absolutely love writing for Paul, I think it’s probably no secret that he’s my favorite😍 I hope you like this! No smut in this one, but I’m always down to write part twos!

Paul x GN Reader

Warnings: mild angst but happy ending

(The song ends kinda sad, but after Paul x Angel Reader, I could hurt my baby boy like that again so soon😖 so I went in a little bit of a different direction with the ending)

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

You leaned against the door of your car, cigerette in hand as you waited for the long haired blond to awake from his daytime slumber.

You’d spent many a night in the freight train yard with Paul, drinking and laughing as you forgot your respective troubles together.

Paul was always good for a fun time and you were always looking. You craved a distraction from the monotony of your day to day life, something Paul was happy to provide.

You raised an eyebrow and threw your cigarette to the ground, stomping it out as a mop of blond hair peaked from the entrance to the sunken hotel.

“Ready to go?” You asked.

He waved and held up a bag of weed, “yep! Brought the good stuff,” he laughed.

“Me too,” you told him as you pulled your bag around and flashed him the bottle of Jack Daniels.

“Perfect,” he smiled as he pulled it the rest of the way out of you bag, popped the cap and taking a swig.

“Hey!” His gaze whipped to you at your exclamation, “open container laws idiot, you can’t have that out in my car.” You explained.

He flashed you a fangy smile as he slid into the passenger seat, bottle in hand, “chill babe, any cop that pulls us over for that shit’ll just be givin’ me something else to drink.”

“Not your babe,” you mumbled as you climbed into the driver’s seat and spurred the engine to life.

A grimaced flashed across Paul’s face, but he masked it before you could see, “course, sorry,” he mumbled back.

You clenched the steering wheel while wearing your own grimace. You might not have been his babe, but goddamn did you want to be.

You whipped your car in circles around the abandoned yard. Smiling and laughing as Paul stuck his head out the window and whooped. Dust flew around you everywhere as your tires ground into the dirt.

As you watched Paul extend his entire torso out the window, you found yourself eternally grateful he was immortal.

His hair blew in the breeze as he laughed and yelled, and it became harder and harder to focus on the path of your car.

Eventually you pulled up and parked, flicking off the headlights as you removed the key from the ignition. Paul tumbled out of the passenger seat, bottle under his arm as you exited the car as well.

The two of you crawled into the open compartment of a storage car and leaned against the walls across from each other. Your legs tangled together, and your gazes fixed on each other.

He handed you the bottle as he pulled the weed and some rolling paper from his pocket. You tipped the bottle back and your face twisted as the whisky burned the back of your throat.

You watched Paul lick the paper before rolling it up. He leaned forward to hand it to you as you leaned forward to take it from him.

You were immediately aware of how close your faces were to each other. Paul’s bright blue eyes were trained on your lips, and yours on his.

You had spent many nights alone, wondering what his lips felt like, imagining them on yours. Sometimes you wondered if he stayed up thinking of your lips, if he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

Paul’s gaze met yours and you looked back at him curiously.

“Please?” He asked.

Your face flushed with shock, but your heartbeat quickened with desire. You nodded softly, and that was all Paul needed.

He cupped your face with both hands and sealed his mouth over yours. His lips felt soft and cold, and you could taste the faintest hint of Jack Daniels on his tongue as it slid into your mouth.

You hands reached up to find perchance in his perfect blond locks, he moaned into your mouth as you pulled gently.

Paul slid his hand down to the small of your back. He laid you down on the floor of the storage car and climbed over you. Your hands moved from his hair to his cheek as you began to caress him.

He placed his hands over yours pulling them from his cheeks and pinning them down on either side of your head before moving his mouth down from you lips to suck and tug at the crook of your neck, moaning against the skin.

When you felt Paul suck a hickey into your neck, you snapped to your senses.

“Wait, Paul, stop,” you gasped.

He pulled back immediately as you stood and fell against the wall, as far from him as possible.

Paul hugged himself and refused to meet your eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he said to the floor, “I would never want to pressure you, I thought…” he trailed off, “I’m sorry, I can…I can find another way home.”

You pushed off the wall, “no,” you sighed, “Paul no, I’m sorry, you didn’t pressure me,” you assured him, “and you weren’t imagining anything either, I wanted you too,” you whispered.

His head snapped up to look at you, “Then why…”

“Because you deserve better than me,” you told him as tears began to roll down your cheeks, “I’m only going to disappoint you. I’m only going to hurt you.”

Paul’s brow furrowed in concern and confusion.

“You like being around me because I’m great for a good time, but when the fun stops what are you gonna be left with?” You asked him, “you don’t know me, not really,” you laughed humorlessly.

“Once you see past the two dimensional version of me that I pretend to be when I’m with you, you won’t want me,” you told him, “you’ll regret being with me, I’ll pull away and ice you out, and we’ll both be miserable,” you sighed.

You stared deeply into his eyes, “I care about you too much to be with you.”

A long moment passed between the two of you. “That’s bullshit,” Paul broke the silence matter-of-factly.

“What?” You asked, shocked and slightly offended.

“That’s bullshit,” Paul repeated, standing up and walking towards you.

He stood in front of you, stroking his fingers down your arm, “you think I love some idea of you? Not the real you?”

Your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat when ‘love’ left his lips, but if he noticed, he didn’t seem to care. “I’m not some self-absorbed asshole…well not all the time,” he chuckled to himself, “I watch you, you know?”

He cringed, “sorry, not in like, a weird stalkery way, in like an ‘I pay attention way,’” he rambled.

His face turned serious, “I can tell when we’re hanging out, and you’re in it, like you don’t have a care in the world,” he explained.

“But I can tell when you’re mad, when your nails dig into the palms of your hands, when your jaw clenches, and you think no one sees but I do. I see you.”

“And i know when you’re sad too,” he continued, “I’ve seen you smile a million times, I love your smile, and I know when it’s fake,” he sighed, “when you smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.”

“I don’t want you just for a good time, I mean, I want that too…” you shot him a glare, “right sorry,” he apologized, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I want you, I love you for you, all of you,” he promised, “give me all your pain, all your tears, I’ll hold your hand through it all,” He stroked your cheek and you leaned into his touch.

“I’m not gonna regret choosing you, I promise,” he whispered, “you’re never gonna be too much for me, I want to be everything for you,” he told you, “if you’ll let me of course,” he clarified.

Your face softened and you sighed, “I’ve been burning for you since we met Paul, I want to be everything for you too,” you told him.

He beamed as he slipped an arm around your waist, “let’s seal it with a kiss sugar,” he proposed.

You smiled as your lips met his once again.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Taglist❤️:

@misslavenderlady @6lostgirl6 @pixielostboy @ghoulgeousimmaculate @anna1306 @its-freaking-bats @solobagginses @altierirose @bloodywickedvamp

[lenaariewrld]

dream girl

matsukawa issei ending・ᡣ𐭩

The breeze was cool against your warmed skin, dancing past you, caressing the blades of grass as it went and tickling your legs. It was mostly quiet, birds and bugs chirping and singing in the trees or around you. You weren’t sure when you’d laid down, your back relaxing against the soft blanket, but it felt peaceful. And it felt right when Mattsun laid next to you, his arms folded behind his head.

Your skin buzzed with electricity, a steady thrumming current under the surface as your nerves picked up every millimeter where his skin touched yours. His shoulders against yours, his thigh brushing against your hip, his shoe tapping against your calf on occasion. But it didn’t make you feel on edge. No, instead you felt… safe.

You and Mattsun stared up at the sky in retrospective silence, letting the peace of nature be undisturbed except for your breaths and the music that was barely audible from Mattsun’s phone. The sun had set low, barely any light in the sky and allowing the velvety curtain of nighttime to bleed into the sky. Stars sparkled into your vision the longer you looked, brightly dotting the violet canvas stretched above you. A quiet sigh of content leaves you. This was right. This was nice. It’s reassuring to just have this time, these beats of silence where you can just soak in everything and let the world pass by.

Soon enough, the fireworks began to zip into the sky. Whistles and whoops signalled different ones as they shot up outside of your vision, exploding into a flurry of colors and shapes. You and Mattsun dramatically ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at each one, giggling at the stupid gasps the other lets out. You feel your cheeks grow warm, and they hurt just a little bit from how hard you find yourself smiling, glancing between the sky and the man lying beside you. His dark eyes seem to reflect every color of the fireworks, glued to them like he was trying to map it all in his mind.

When it all ends, you both remain on the blanket for another minute or two. The wind was tinged with the faint smell of gunpowder and ash, making your nostrils burn if you breathed too deeply.

“Mm, I almost forgot,” With a grunt, Mattsun sits up. He stretches his back and you watch as he turns to pull his bag onto his lap, sitting yourself up as well. You chuckle as he digs around in the bag.

“More surprises?”

He tosses you a playfully stern look, finally taking out whatever he’d been looking for. He places a small paper lantern, folded flatly for the time being, between the both of you. “A bunch of students release these after the fireworks show,” He says quietly, his voice small. Your eyes remain on his face, even as he looks at the lantern or around at the mostly empty field you two find yourselves in. You can’t see as well in this low lighting as you’d like, but you can tell he was blushing, the dark flush to his cheeks obvious to you.

“It’s this… tradition we have,” He adds, turning the lantern around in his hands, finding a blank spot. “We write our names on the inside before we light it and send it out, and it’s supposed to help grant wishes or bring good luck to whoever’s name is in the lantern.” He finally lifts his eyes to look at you, and you’re sure that your face must look about as brightly red as his does the way you feel butterflies erupting in your intestines, flurrying around your stomach like crazy. “I thought it would be a good idea for you to write your name down,” He holds out the lantern to you.

A moment passed between the both of you.

Hesitantly, you reach out, your fingers curling around the delicate paper and holding it closer to yourself. Mattsun had always been sweet. He was weird and his tone was sometimes too serious to tell if he was joking, but it added charm, and he never failed to make it clear that he meant no ill will towards you. He cut off any worries before your brain even had the chance to sprout them. He was good at reading you.

Somehow, in all the time you’d spent with Mattsun, he’d figured out a way to decipher your alphabet, memorized every line on every page of your being, and surmised how to handle you. Like he’d known you for years, and it was just so natural for the two of you to mesh. You blink slowly, your thumb caressing the lantern. “We should write yours too..” You say in a whisper, your voice barely carrying above the wind. Mattsun remains quiet, his teeth dragging against his bottom lip.

“Okay,”

“I know the tradition here..” You add, taking the pen he digs out and allows you to take. You begin by writing his name, careful to make your writing extra pretty for no reason than because you wanted to. “And I think we both deserve some good luck,” You smile, and catch his gaze, the way his grin is crooked on his face and his eyes are staring at you lazily, taking in your aura and your presence as easily as breathing.

You finish writing your names and cap the pen, holding it in your mouth as you unfold the lantern. It wasn’t much bigger than a loaf of bread when it was all said and done, with a small hole at the top, the bottom fitted with a loop of wire to hold the lantern’s flame perfectly in the middle. “Here,” You let him take the lantern to hold it. You feel metaphorical sparks when his fingers brush against your own, a glow seeming to grow in the air that separates you two. It’s bright and almost suffocating, but it wasn’t tense. It wasn’t bad.

Mattsun wordlessly pulls out a lighter and finds the wick for the lantern. A soft yellow flickering grows from inside the paper, and soon enough the tiny lantern is lifting out of the man’s hand, floating up and away from the two of you.

You watch it slink away into the night.

Your lips part in shock as you spot more lanterns, all varying in shape, size, and color, starting to rise into the sky, peeking out from trees or other spots in the field, or drifting from even further along. Carried by the wind to join the others. A feeling rises in your chest, a contentness you’d only felt in small blips or pieces. Times when you looked back and found a pocket of time where you felt truly happy and in your place. Mattsun leans over to bump his shoulder against yours. “What’s rattlin’ in that head?” He asked, the silly phrasing making you laugh softly. Airy.

“I think I like you,” You admit, feeling no hesitation or worry about admitting it. It felt like saying any other fact about yourself, like sharing what your favorite fruits were, or that you preferred one kind of dessert over another. Or that you, for all intents and purposes, had developed a crush on the man.

Mattsun smiles again, his teeth poking from beneath his lips. “I knew already,” His tone is as light as yours, “You were kind of obvious,” He adds. A raucous laugh rips from him when you shove his shoulder hard enough to knock him on his side, giggling all the while as you throw out a noncommittal ‘shut up’. He rolls onto his side, his laughter only growing. He takes a deep breath a second later and reaches out to grab your hand, pulling you towards him. You grunt from the unexpected movement, falling onto his chest.

“I like you too,” He whispers, one of his arms snaking around your waist and keeping you pressed to him. You relax and fold your arms above his chest, your chin on your hands. “So much,” He adds, reaching out to brush some hair behind your ear.

“I know,” As all you say, your tone teasing but nonetheless incredibly soft. It was all you needed in that moment, just to hear him say he’d known and felt it too. You hum as he chuckles, and the both of you fall silent again. This time, you let him stare up at the sky, closing your eyes and pressing your cheek against his chest. You feel his heartbeat underneath your palms, and hear it in your ears. A steady, assured rhythm that seems to calm at the same time you do, urging you to relax further into him. This was where you needed to be…

| three years later...

———

previous | masterlist

extras:

y/n and mattsun spent the most time out of all the aoba johsai guys together bc they got along so easily (but all of them were close)

mattsun entirely lied abt what the others were up to so it could just be him and y/n

taglist: closed

[teatitty]

Okay so I'm generously calling this the Dandy Guardian AU until I think of a better name but essentially this is the rundown [had to put this under a cut because it got long WHOOPS]:

In the book version of events, Dandelion isn't present when Geralt is in Cintra and calls the Law of Surprise, but he does know about what happened. I can't recall if we ever see that convo in text or if it's just background knowledge but that's not important right now

When the Fall of Cintra happens, Dandelion already has his ear to the ground, the walls and the crowds to follow Nilfgaard's movements - Oxenfurt's bards are the best bet anyone has for gathering information about the invading armies because they are spread so wide around the continent and have so many connections

Dandelion's first thought is not to send word to Oxenfurt about Cintra's fall. His first thought is Geralt, and his blasted Child Surprise. He starts tracking his way to Cintra, hoping that he might be able to cross paths with Geralt in the surrounding territories to assure himself that his friend didn't get caught in the middle of that Fall

Meanwhile, Ciri knows she has to find a Witcher by the name of Geralt. She knows he is her destiny. She has no fucking idea where to start looking for him, but she's on the run from Nilfgaard, terrified and anxious and stressed, and in her bag, to her surprise, she finds a well worn copy of a hidden book of Dandelion's poems, all of which are to do with Geralt's adventures. Mousesack had given it to her in secret when she was six, and it had been one of her favourites ever since

She quite forgot she had it in her bag

Cirilla has no idea where to find Geralt. But Dandelion might. Dandelion, she thinks, is her best bet to track her own destiny

And of the two of them, Dandelion isn't a very hard man to find. His bright plumage and singing laughter leaves an easy trail of rumours and tracks to follow. Curiously, whenever she asks about where she might find him, people don't tend to question her. They look at her with sympathy - and sometimes pity - and ask if she has anyone else she can rely on

"No," says Ciri, sombre and trembling. "I only have him."

It's not a lie, exactly, and she's gotten quite good at hiding her aristocratic accent. They point her to when they last heard of his presence. They ask if she needs any help. She thanks them for it, because she is still polite, if angry and confused and oh-so-very lost, but she declines any further company

She goes on.

Every night, she opens up that little book of poems, and tries to imagine what the man described in them is like. It's the closest thing she has to knowing Geralt the Person rather than Geralt the Cursed Witcher

Cirilla is three weeks' worth of travel out from Cintra's borders when she finds Dandelion. It's a little more accurate to say she's dragged over to him - apparently, a blonde, freckle faced child asking about such a famous bard is a quick titter of gossip in the grapevine, and she quickly discovers why it is that nobody ever asked her why she wanted him, and always looked with sympathy or pity at her plight:

Dandelion's hair is blonde. Hers is paler than his own, but he is blonde, like her, and his eyes are bright and clear. His face, though worn and tired, is fair and freckled just like hers, and he is just as surprised as she is when she finds herself shoved in front of him and announced to be his "illegitimate daughter"

"Whoever you got unlucky enough to knock up," says the other minstrel who guided her, "the poor lass seems all alone now. From what I heard, you're the only thing she's got left in the world."

Whatever the minstrel says next is lost to her - for a few aching moments, Dandelion looks panicked. And then something shifts. His face softens. "You look dead on your feet, darling," he says. "Come on, lets get you upstairs and clean you up a bit."

Cirilla doesn't trust strangers. Oddly, Dandelion doesn't feel like one. Perhaps because she has spent so many nights reading his work. Or maybe it's because he's a friend of her destiny. Either way, she quietly follows him up to his room, and when the door is closed, he says, "You don't know where Geralt is, do you?"

Ciri does not.

Her lip trembles. Her shoulders shake. When she finally heaves a sob, Dandelion does not crowd her. But his hands are gentle when he moves her cloak from her shoulders. His voice is soft as he brushes her hair and hums a quiet song

Dandelion never met Pavetta in person. But he once saw her in a painting, and he's seen plenty of Calanthe's likeness over the years besides. Ciri looks a spitting image of them both. Privately, he's impressed at how well she could hide her accent. But she is still just a child, and Dandelion has much more experience with putting on such a performance. He's worn many a different mask with many a different voice over the years, and he had heard traces of her native Cintran beneath the roughness of her croak

Cirilla is alone. But she is also alive, and Dandelion knows, with a confidence born of years by Geralt's side, that his Witcher would never let himself die before finding this girl safe

When the morning comes, he begins to take her North