#get kill by bed room eyes baby bat

[eldritch-alicedoll]

Hey……………… What if I give you a HQ downloadable when I finished so you can turn it into key chain? put on a frame ? or print it on your pillow 😳

[suncoved]

RAFE, SCARY? PFFT ! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: you had the most loving, sweet, precious boyfriend in the world. so why were your new found friends so scared of him?

prompt: “you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?”

you could barely contain your happiness as you applied your 5th layer of glittery lipgloss on your lips, holding the decorated pink tube in your manicured fingers. you batted your eyelids at the clock hung on rafe's wall.

kiara told you to be there at 8:00 and it was currently 7:30.

but you didn't want to be late, so leaving now was a good plan for you.

you had never met kiara's friends before. you had been best friends with her your whole life, but after she and sarah split, they told you you had to pick a side. and you would never tell sarah that the main reason you picked her was because of her psychotic older brother who was always roaming aimlessly around tannyhill.

sarah was your best friend, and you wouldn't trade her for the world.

but you couldn't help but ponder over what would have happened if you picked kiara, what life you would have had.

you missed her, truly. so when faced with the oppurtity to reconnect with her through your mothers exchanging numbers on one random night at the wreck, you took it.

and before you knew it she was inviting you to come down to the boneyard with some of her friends from the cut, to which you accepted gratefully.

you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the bathroom door click open, the steam rolling out from underneath it like a tidal wave. you turned your head softly at the noise, placing the lipgloss applicator quickly back in the tube.

beads of water trickled down his v line, escaping into the beige towel wrapped around his waist into a place you didn't even have the time to imagine. he lifted his hand up to his head, running a hand through his now brown hair that had darkened from getting wet under the stream of water.

"quick rafe we have to go!" you whined, trying to avoid eye contact with the 6'2 tall build distraction in front of you. you shuffled around the room, going into his closet and picking out clothes for him to quickly put on since he insisted — well — demanded, on driving you down to the boneyard.

you shoved the clothes into his hands, his hand making contact with yours momentarily, creating a spark between the two of you. your cheeks flushed as you quickly looked away, turning around and taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

you watched as he made no effort to move, a smirk you know all too well gracing his face. "rafe, i mean it. get changed" you groaned as you pushed your palms into the soft covers of his king sized bed.

"if you wanted to see me naked baby, you could just say that."

your cheeks quickly turned into the darkest shade of pink you could imagine, your hands quickly reached up to your face, covering your eyes as you huffed softly.

he scoffed at your movements, reaching over to spread your fingers apart so you could see through them. "im just joking ma, you've seen it all before." he winked, moving back to see the full sight of him while lifting his bicep up and flexing it in your face.

you jokingly rolled your eyes, falling onto the bed so you were now staring at the ceiling. your fingers found their way to each other, nervously intertwining as you thought.

you heard rafe shuffling around near his closet, his fly ziping up and the clink of his belt being melody to your ears. "what if they don't like me?"

your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. if rafe wasn't listening he definitely would have missed it. but he always listens.. to you.

"impossible" he stated simply, using a tone that left no room for discussion. he didn't use that tone often, but when he did, you stayed quiet.

you chewed on your bottom lip, knitting your brows together.

you were so lucky to have rafe in your life. he was kind, caring and patient and always knew how to calm your anxiety.

honestly, you were surprised he let you go down to the beach with the pogues in the first place. you tried your best to keep out of that whole kook-pouge turf war as best as possible. to you, it was immature, unnecessary and just pointless. but it had been around on the island since before you could remember.

though, it was safe to say that you and rafe didn't see eye to eye on that topic. he didn't like the pogues, not one bit. and he made that very, very clear.

he knew how much you loved kiara, and how your face lit up when your mother's voice echoed through rafe's car speakers when she called you after seeing kiara's mother.

it took him longer to warm up to the idea that you would be seeing her whole friend group, which consists of just pogues, and most importantly, jj maybank.

there was nothing more rafe hated than jj maybank.

yet, he knew how happy this would make you. and he was willing to do this, for you. only for you.

"ready bubs" rafe announces, smoothing his polo down haphazardly and stuffing his feet into his shoes. he hears you pulling yourself up and off his bed, your socked feet padding over to him and resting your head on his chest.

he smiles and he brings his arms around your body. sighing contently as he places a kiss on your head before resting his chin on you. "they are gonna love you, like everyone loves you. don't think for a second that they won't"

you giggle against him, somehow trying to push yourself further into him, which was impossible.

"no im being serious baby, i have some serious competition." rafe huffed, pulling himself back from you and looking at your face peering up at him.

"shut up" you joke, your cheeks burning as you blushed at his words. he leaned down until his lips met yours, bringing his fingers to your chin and lifting your head up.

you two melted into each other, your sweet strawberry lipgloss coating his lips quickly. he didn't care though, he was kissing you. so nothing else mattered.

you were losing yourself in his touch, not noticing he was slowly pushing you back until your calfs hit the back of his dark oak bed frame and your body eventually fell against the soft fabric of his covers.

he slipped his hand up your lacy white cami, dragging his fingers up and down the soft skin of your stomach. he detached his lips from yours as his cold slender fingers slipped under the wire of your bra, kissing his way down your neck and chest.

you bit your now chapped lips as you looked down the the brunette boy making goosebumps appear over your skin. you threw your head back against his pillow closing your eyes and opening them again as your head lulled to the side.

your eyes fixated to the clock resting on his wall, reading 7:54. your mind ticked for a second before realising where you needed to be in exactly six minutes, gasping rather dramaticlly.

rafe's head snaps up to look at you, his eyes hooded with worry and hunger at the same time. it was only when he followed your eyes to his sleek white clock that he realised what had happened.

he rolled his eyes and he pulled your shirt back over your stomach, leaving one last searing kiss before smoothing the material down.

"rafe we have to go, now. now!" you whisper yelled almost slipping and you tried to put on your shoes while you hobbled out of his bedroom.

"baby, baby." he spoke, hopping up and walking quickly after you. he reached out to your waist holding you stable so you didn't slip over and hurt yourself.

"ok, ok. ill be careful. lets just go!" you gasped, trying to wiggle out of his firm grip. he chuckled as he let go, watching as you speed down the stairs of tannyhill and down to his white jeep parked out the front.

it was a fairly uneventful ride down to the boneyard, rafe's hand resting on your bouncing leg the whole time, slightly soothing the nervous feeling arising in your chest.

"c'mon baby, we're here" he voiced, opening his car door before quickly jumping out and circling the car before he opened yours for you. your eyes drifted down to the beach as rafe helped you out of his rather tall car.

a blonde boy with a backward cap resting on his head sat on a log with two other boys around your age, beers resting in their hands as they talked. your eyes followed along the beach where you saw kiara picking up trash along the shore, smiling brightly to yourself.

rafe intertwined his hand with yours, tightly squeezing it as he narrowed his eyes at the people on the beach. "you don't have to drink yeah? just tell them no, ok?" rafe spoke.

you nodded softly, peering up at him through your lashes to see his face stern and menacing.

you began walking first, dragging rafe softly behind you as your shoes hit the soft sand below you. you kept your eyes glued to your feet the whole way until you heard voices now crystal clear echoing through your ears.

"hey, you made it!" kiara exclaimed, bringing her arms around you as you let go of rafes hand. "hi kie" you murmured into her shoulder, embracing her into a soft hug.

"hey, rafe. what're you doing down these parts?" the blonde boy asked, standing up from his spot on the large log he was sitting down on before. you saw rafe tick his jaw to the side as you pulled away from kiara, his tongue sliding through the front of his teeth.

"just dropping her off maybank, not here to stay" rafe remarked, turning his attention to you as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek, ghosting his hands over your sides as he pulled back from you.

"call me when you need me to pick you up yeah?" rafe said, keeping his eyes on you as you nodded hastily. he smiled sweetly at you, watching as kiara grabbed your hand a pulled you down to the shore, showing you the tiny baby turtles rushing into the water in front of you.

"hey jj" rafe said, turning his head to the boy standing a few feet from him, not daring to come any closer. rafe watched as he nodded cautiously, pursing his lips together as to almost prepare himself for what rafe was about to say.

rafe took a few steps before he reached jj, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and hoisting him up until they were face to face.

“you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?"

[hanasnx]

Hop hop 🐇 strutting around Jay's apartment in nothing but panties and his leather jacket that's still warm from his body 🐇 hop hop

-doe 🐾

JASON TODD shirtless and in gray sweatpants and a thin silver chain around his neck, manspreading in his seat as he annotates on some blueprints. The Bat left quite an impression on him, including his knack for being thorough. The cap of his sharpie sits between his teeth, the soft squeaking of the marker scribbling on parchment filling the room. Even though you got laid this morning, you should be good, but instead you’re especially needy. He’d gotten back a little bit ago from picking up those blueprints, and the leather bike jacket he wore on his motorcycle ride had been thrown on the bed haphazardly. Crawling out in just your undies, you were chilly, so you put the jacket on. It sat on your shoulders like a curtain. Heavy, and huge, and stiff. Still warm from his body heat, it provided enough protection to pad out to see him.

It takes him a second to notice you, and when he does, that famous grin stretches onto his lips. Hopelessly attractive with defined dimples and smile lines that could kill, crookedly smiling at you with that cap in between his pearly white teeth. “What’re you doin’ over there, baby? C’mere.” He snips the cap from his mouth between his fingers like a cigarette, and you obediently come to his beckoning hand and inviting lap. You sit on his thigh, and the rigid material of the jacket stands up on its own. He snickers at you. “Whose jacket is that, babycakes?”

Timidly, you concede, “My Jay’s…”

It amuses him further, giving you a soft look with a flash of his raised brows. “Yeah? S’your Jay’s?” he mimics your melodic response in a twinge of a mocking tone out of endearment. “It’s, uh, little big for you, huh? Your Jay a big guy?” He wasn’t gonna let this go, and you fidget with your hands, looking up at him with those glossy doe-eyes. While he talks, a single finger moves aside the leather to get a peek at your bare chest.

“Huge.” you tell him with stars in your eyes, gesturing size with your hands, and it makes him laugh again, particularly inclined to adore you with a kiss on your cheek.

[lacethighs]

undercover dancer

dean winchester x reader

synopsis while working a case with the winchester, you go undercover at a strip club to track down a siren, but things don’t go as planned.

warnings mdni, porn with plot? (pwp), oral sex (m rec.), missionary, pet names (sweetheart, baby), fem reader, breeding kink (if you squint), light d/s dynamic, no use of y/n.

word count 6.5k

working a case with the winchesters meant long nights, bad coffee, and sifting through endless lore. the three of you were holed up in a rundown motel, buried in research about sirens. three men had murdered their wives, all while insisting they were in happy, loving relationships. something wasn’t adding up.

sam had bobby on speakerphone as the older hunter explained an old piece of folklore—sirens could be killed with a bronze dagger dipped in the blood of one of their victims.

“alright, thanks, bobby. we’ll call if we need anything else,” sam said, snapping his phone shut.

you sighed, leaning back in your chair across from him. “okay, but how exactly are we supposed to get the blood of an infected victim?”

sam thought for a moment before suggesting that the doctor who performed the autopsies might still have blood samples from the victims.

as the boys geared up, putting on their usual fbi disguises, you made no move to change. noticing this, dean shot you a look. “what? you’re just gonna sit this one out?”

“no,” you replied smoothly, standing up and grabbing a duffel bag from under the bed. “while you two are handling that, i’m going to see if i can get a lead on who the siren might be.”

sam and dean exchanged confused glances but didn’t question it. they had learned to trust your methods—even if they didn’t always understand them.

as soon as they left, you dug through your bag, pulling out a dark red costume. undercover work had its perks, but being a woman in the hunting business often meant playing into certain expectations. and right now, that meant infiltrating the strip club where you suspected the siren was hiding.

after a quick shower, you grabbed a fresh razor and got to work. if you were going to sell this, you had to look the part. you remembered the club owner’s strict policy—pretty faces and smooth bodies only.

once you were done, you pulled out your small cosmetic kit and carefully applied your makeup, matching it to the deep red of your outfit. a final swipe of lip gloss and a touch of glitter later, you gave yourself a once-over in the motel’s long mirror.

damn. you looked like an expensive stripper.

the two-piece outfit was a dark red sequined swimsuit, just a size too small, leaving very little to the imagination. perfect.

packing a change of clothes and slipping a pair of heels into your duffel, you hopped into your camaro and drove to the club.

pulling into the back lot, you wrapped yourself in a long trench coat and slipped inside through the rear entrance. in the changing room, you stashed your bag, swapped your boots for heels, and took a moment to observe the other women.

they moved in and out, chatting and adjusting their outfits, but none of them immediately screamed “siren.” the only clue you had was that sirens tended to work alone.

you adjusted your stance, getting used to the ridiculous height of your heels. with one last check in the dingy mirror, you stepped out onto the club floor.

the heavy bass of electronic house music pounded in your chest, the flashing led lights momentarily disorienting. you focused, forcing yourself to move with the rhythm, blending in as you made your way toward the bar.

“well, aren’t you something,” a voice drawled behind you.

you turned, slipping effortlessly into character, flashing a sultry smile as you took in the man eyeing you. mid-forties, salt-and-pepper beard, expensive watch—if you weren’t here on a case, you might have been a little more interested.

smirking, you sauntered closer, batting your eyelashes. “what can i do for you tonight, handsome?”

“how about something special?” his voice dipped, gaze never leaving your body. “one of those private rooms in the back?”

shit.

if you left the main floor, you’d risk losing sight of your real target. you needed a way out of this—fast.

glancing around, you spotted the upstairs balcony overlooking the club. if you could get him up there, at least you’d still have a vantage point.

“i don’t have all night, sweetheart,” the man said impatiently, waving a wad of cash. “you want this or not?”

plastering on a flirtatious smile, you grabbed his hand and led him toward the stairs. he chuckled behind you. “aren’t you an eager thing?”

this was probably a bad idea.

as you reached the top, your attention flicked to a nearby table where two men in suits sat across from each other. the back of one of their heads looked disturbingly familiar. short hair, slightly spiked—no way.

then you heard it. that familiar gravelly voice, thick with a kansas drawl.

dean.

what the hell was he doing here?

panic kicked in. you needed to get past him before he saw you in this very compromising outfit. you picked up the pace, walking past as quickly as you could.

just when you thought you were in the clear—

a low whistle pierced the air.

fuck.

the whistle came from dean.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

you could’ve kept walking. you should’ve kept walking. just pretend you didn’t hear it. play dumb, keep moving, disappear into the back rooms before this whole thing spiraled into something worse.

but, of course, the man you were leading had to open his damn mouth.

“hell of a body, huh?” he slurred, clearly buzzed and feeling bold. “bet she’s worth every damn penny.”

your stomach dropped, then it got so much worse.

“hey, buddy,” the man continued, elbowing dean like they were old friends. “why don’t you come with me? we can both get a little taste.”

you clenched your jaw. this fucking guy. not only was he disgusting, but now he was trying to bring dean into this?

“hey, sweetheart!” he called, motioning for you to come back. “c’mon, don’t be shy now.”

you stayed still, facing away from the table, hoping—praying—that dean would just ignore him. maybe he hadn’t recognized you. maybe he was just reacting to the fact that you looked wildly out of place in a club like this.

maybe pigs could fly.

because you felt dean’s eyes burning into your back, and you knew—this was about to happen.

your breath hitched as you forced yourself to turn around.

and the second your gaze met dean’s, his jaw literally dropped.

eyes wide, mouth hanging open, pure shock written all over his face. like he’d just been smacked in the head with a crowbar.

you saw the exact moment realization hit. the way his gaze flickered down—taking in the too-small, blood-red sequined outfit, the heels, the sheer ridiculousness of what you were wearing—before snapping back up to your face.

his lips parted, but no words came out. just a stunned, incredulous stare, like his brain had short-circuited and he couldn’t even begin to process what he was seeing.

you wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

dean winchester—your hunting partner, your friend, the guy you spent way too much time with—was seeing you like this.

and he wasn’t looking away. dean blinked. once. twice. then his jaw clenched

in dean’s mind, this was not what he expected when you said you were going to get a lead on the siren.

a lead? sure. maybe some surveillance, some questioning—hell, even some light flirting to get information if needed. but this?

his brain had completely short-circuited.

for a few crucial seconds, he forgot where he was. forgot the case, the siren, the fact that there was a real fbi agent sitting across from him. forgot that he was supposed to be an fbi agent, too.

because fbi agent dean winchester wasn’t supposed to know a stripper.

you weren’t supposed to know him.

you were just two strangers existing in the same space—passing glances, exchanging pleasantries, nothing more. that’s what this cover was supposed to be.

but instead, you were standing there, looking like that, and dean was sitting here, looking at you.

the noise of the club, the flashing lights, the pulsing music—it all blurred in the background. the only thing in sharp focus was you.

and then, of course, the drunk asshole had to make it worse.

“so, what do ya say, man?” he gestured sloppily between you and dean, slurring his words. “you in or what?”

dean blinked, jaw tightening.

this guy had no idea. no idea that the woman he was treating like an object was actually a badass hunter who could take him down in a heartbeat. no idea that dean wasn’t some random customer, but someone who knew exactly what you looked like covered in blood and sweat, tearing through monsters like it was second nature.

but more than anything, he had no idea how much dean didn’t want to share you with him.

dean finally closed his mouth, schooling his face into something more neutral. his grip tightened around the glass in his hand, but he forced out a smirk, leaning back in his chair.

“tempting,” he said, voice low, edged with something dangerous. “but i think i’ll pass.”

he saw the way your shoulders subtly relaxed, the way your fingers twitched like you were seconds from reaching for a weapon you weren’t carrying.

the guy huffed, shaking his head. “your loss.” then he turned back to you, giving you a sleazy grin. “guess it’s just you and me, sweetheart.”

dean barely restrained himself from breaking the guy’s nose.

this was a case. you were undercover. you had a job to do.

but damn if dean didn’t want to burn this whole place down just to get you out of here.

after that incredibly unfortunate turn of events, you decided to call it a night.

you led your drunk, handsy gentleman away from prying eyes, coaxing him into a quieter, less crowded hallway. the second you were sure no one was watching, you turned on your heel and decked him—one solid punch right to the jaw.

he crumpled like a sack of potatoes.

rolling your shoulders, you exhaled sharply and stepped over his unconscious body. he’d wake up with a hell of a headache and probably no memory of what happened. good. you didn’t have the patience for anything else.

when you walked back onto the main floor, you instinctively glanced toward where dean had been sitting—only to find his chair empty.

of course.

you didn’t have the energy to deal with that right now.

navigating through the club, you made your way back to the dressing room, grabbed your trench coat, and threw it over yourself. no time to change. you just wanted to get out of here and back to the motel.

enough undercover work for one night.

but as soon as you stepped outside into the cool night air and headed toward your car, you stopped dead in your tracks.

because parked right in front of your camaro, like a goddamn roadblock, was the impala.

and leaning against it, arms crossed, expression unreadable, was dean. there he stood—still in that goddamn suit, still looking good as ever.

the neon lights from the club flickered against his face, casting sharp shadows across his jaw. he was staring straight at you, and even from a distance, you could feel the weight of it.

yeah. you definitely weren’t getting out of this conversation.

you wished you could just ignore him, pretend you didn’t see him, slip into your camaro, and drive the hell away from this whole mess.

but dean obviously had different plans.

his arms were still crossed, his stance casual, but there was nothing relaxed about the way he was watching you. his sharp green eyes followed every step you took, unreadable yet intense.

you swallowed hard and kept walking, forcing yourself to act like you weren’t dying inside from sheer embarrassment. maybe if you just made it to your car door without saying anything—

“hey, sweetheart,” dean called, voice smooth but edged with something else.

you closed your eyes briefly, exhaling through your nose.

slowly, you turned to face him, plastering on your best unimpressed look. “you waiting for someone, winchester?”

dean huffed out something between a scoff and a laugh, shaking his head slightly. “yeah. you.”

of course.

you shifted your weight, gripping the edges of your coat a little tighter. “well, you found me. so what do you want?”

dean pushed off the impala, stepping closer—just enough to make your pulse spike. he tilted his head, studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he was trying to piece together.

“what the hell was that back there?” his voice was low, curious, but definitely not amused.

you lifted a brow. “i was working the case.”

dean’s jaw ticked. “that’s what we’re calling it?”

you crossed your arms. “got a problem with it?”

he scoffed, looking away for a second before his eyes flicked back to yours. “yeah, i got a problem with it. watching you prance around in that getup, having some drunk asshole treat you like—” he cut himself off, exhaling sharply. “what the hell were you thinking?”

you rolled your eyes. “i was thinking that someone had to actually get close enough to find the siren. and considering i didn’t see you shaking your ass in sequins, it had to be me.”

dean made a face, clearly not a fan of that mental image. “damn it, you know that’s not what i mean.”

you shrugged, pretending like your stomach wasn’t twisting at how tense he was. “relax, dean. i had it under control.”

dean let out a humorless laugh. “oh yeah? looked real under control when that guy was trying to buy a damn two-for-one special.”

you bristled but kept your face neutral. “i handled it.”

dean stared at you for a long moment, jaw still tight. then, finally, he shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face. “you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

your lips twitched. “that sounds like a you problem.”

dean exhaled, then gave you that look—the one that always made your chest tighten. a mix of exasperation, concern, and something else. something you didn’t have the guts to name.

“get in the car,” he muttered, nodding toward the impala.

you frowned. “i have my own car—”

“yeah, and it’s staying here.” dean’s voice left no room for argument. “you’re riding with me.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but the glare he shot you made you shut it just as quickly.

fine. whatever. if it got you out of this conversation faster, you’d deal with it.

sighing, you walked past him, letting him open the passenger door for you. you didn’t miss the way his gaze flickered over you again, how his fingers twitched like he wanted to do something but held himself back.

you slid into the seat, crossing your arms as dean shut the door behind you.

as he walked around to the driver’s side, one thought ran through your mind—

this was not how you expected tonight to go.

the car ride was quiet.

the tension, while still there, had stopped being suffocating, allowing you to relax a little. you leaned into the familiar comfort of the impala, the soft hum of the engine settling something in your chest.

which meant, unfortunately, you forgot what you were wearing underneath your trench coat.

as you shifted in your seat, adjusting yourself for a more comfortable position, the movement caused the coat to gape open slightly, revealing slivers of bare skin and dark red sequins.

dean only glanced over at first, probably just checking why you were moving—

but then he saw.

his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

a quick flash of your thighs, the curve of your waist, and the unmistakable shimmer of the too-small, too-revealing getup you still had on underneath.

dean immediately snapped his gaze back to the road, jaw clenching so tight it could crack a molar.

but it was too late.

because now the image was burned into his mind.

you, in that tiny outfit, all legs and soft skin, sitting right there next to him like it was no big deal. like it wasn’t driving him insane.

he exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders like it would somehow shake the thought loose.

you didn’t seem to notice his sudden shift in posture, too caught up in getting comfortable. you adjusted again, crossing one leg over the other, which caused the coat to part just a little more—

dean did not look.

he was not looking.

he was absolutely not going to look.

but then the impala hit a small bump in the road, jostling you slightly—and out of sheer reflex, his eyes flicked over.

fucking hell.

he gritted his teeth, forcing his focus forward. “jesus, could you—?” he cut himself off, inhaling sharply. “do you wanna maybe, i don’t know, close that thing?” he flicked a pointed glance at your coat, then back at the road like his life depended on it.

you blinked, glancing down—and finally realized what he was talking about.

oh.

oh.

a slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. “my bad,” you said innocently, making zero effort to fix it.

dean shot you a look. “not funny.”

you bit your lip, suppressing a laugh. “kinda funny.”

“not funny,” he repeated, gripping the wheel tighter. “you’re gonna give me a damn heart attack.”

you chuckled, finally tugging the coat closed—not out of modesty, but because you were pretty sure dean was about three seconds away from swerving off the road.

“relax, winchester,” you teased. “it’s not like you haven’t seen a woman in less before.”

dean made a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a strangled groan. “yeah, well, i don’t usually have to drive them back to a motel after watching them hustle some drunk asshole in a damn strip club.”

you snorted. “please. like you weren’t enjoying the view.”

dean didn’t say anything.

didn’t even look at you.

and that was interesting.

your smirk widened. “oh my god,” you drawled. “you were enjoying the view.”

dean clenched his jaw, eyes locked on the road. “you done?”

you hummed, pretending to think. “not really.”

“too bad.”

you laughed, finally letting it go—for now.

dean just exhaled, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe this was his life.

and for the rest of the ride, he did not look over again.

finally.

for dean, the ride was over. they made it to the motel.

he could get away from you and that damn outfit without feeling like he was losing his goddamn mind.

but you? oh, you were not letting it go.

stepping inside, you took a quick scan of the room. no sam. he was still off doing whatever research he had gotten sucked into, which meant it was just you and dean.

perfect.

you kicked off those ridiculous heels with a sigh of relief, shrinking down several inches in the process, and tossed your duffle bag onto the bed. dean did the same, loosening the tie on his suit with a grumble, ready to just shower this night off and forget it ever happened.

but then he looked up—

and oh, god.

you were shrugging off your trench coat.

right in front of him.

and you weren’t doing it quickly, like someone exhausted after a long night.

no.

you were doing it slowly.

tantalizingly.

dean didn’t know if that was just his brain making it seem like slow motion, or if you were actually torturing him on purpose—

but oh, god.

the way the coat slipped from your shoulders, revealing the smooth stretch of your skin, the way the deep red sequins shimmered against the cheap motel lighting—

dean felt like he’d been hit with something.

his mouth went dry. his brain stopped working.

all he could do was stare.

and you knew.

he could see it in the tiny smirk playing at your lips, the way you tossed your coat onto the bed like this was all totally normal. like you weren’t standing there, still in that tiny little outfit, acting like you didn’t just completely wreck him.

dean swallowed hard, forcing himself to snap out of it. he turned away quickly, scrubbing a hand down his face, trying to gather whatever frayed pieces of self-control he had left.

“you are killing me,” he muttered under his breath.

you laughed, low and amused. “something wrong, winchester?”

dean let out a humorless scoff, not daring to look at you again. “yeah. you.”

you just grinned. “aw, poor baby.”

dean clenched his jaw, staring very intently at the wall.

this was not how he expected his night to go.

especially when you were right there, looking at him like that—like you knew exactly what you were doing to him?

when his eyes couldn’t help but drink you in, no matter how hard he tried to not look?

that stupid, stupid red sequined outfit stretched over the swell of your breasts, hugging every curve, glinting under the dim motel lights like it was taunting him.

the bottoms—if they could even be considered bottoms—barely hid anything. just thin strips of fabric teasingly covering your most intimate parts, leaving long lines of bare skin on display.

dean was screwed.

his jaw was locked so tight it ached. his fingers twitched at his sides, itching to do something—grab you, touch you, tear that damn outfit off just to put an end to this torture.

but he didn’t move.

didn’t say a word.

because if he did, if he let himself react at all, there was no coming back from it.

you tilted your head slightly, watching him with amusement, curiosity, and something dangerous.

“you keep looking at me like that, dean,” you mused, voice dripping with mischief, “people might start to think you actually want me.”

dean exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing his gaze to the floor, the wall—anywhere but you.

“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” his voice came out rougher than he intended.

you stepped closer—too close. close enough that he could feel your body heat, smell the faint traces of perfume and sweat lingering on your skin.

“not when i’m having this much fun,” you admitted with a smirk.

dean clenched his fists.

he had two choices.

get the hell out of this room right now—

or finally give in.

of course he gave in. one second, he was standing there, fists clenched, trying so damn hard to hold himself back.

the next, his lips crashed against yours, hungry, desperate, like he’d been starving for this and just now realized how badly he needed it.

you gasped softly against his mouth, but you weren’t surprised. not really. you knew exactly what you were doing, how to push him just far enough until he snapped—and now, here he was, grabbing onto you like he’d lose his mind if he didn’t.

his hands found your waist, rough fingers gripping tight as he pulled you against him. the thin sequined fabric did little to separate the heat of his body from yours, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

you barely had a second to breathe before he was kissing you deeper, tongue sliding against yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip like he was trying to devour you.

and god, you loved it.

you tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging slightly just to hear that low, frustrated growl rumble from his chest. his hands slid lower, gripping the backs of your thighs, and before you could even process what was happening, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct.

“fucking tease,” he muttered against your lips, walking you toward the bed with no hesitation.

you smirked, breathless. “took you long enough.”

dean let out a low, dark chuckle.

“oh, sweetheart,” he rasped, voice thick with want as he dropped you onto the mattress, climbing over you with a dangerous glint in his eyes—

“you have no idea what you just started.”

your hands roamed over dean’s suit-clad body, feeling the heat beneath the fabric, the tension coiled tight in his muscles.

you pulled him closer by his tie, tugging just enough to make him groan against your lips. his weight pressed into you, his body solid and strong, like he was trying to get as close as physically possible—like even that wouldn’t be enough.

his big, calloused hands slid down your sides, rough fingers trailing fire along your bare skin until they found the thin ties of your bottoms.

with practiced ease, he tugged at the delicate knots, the flimsy fabric loosening instantly. his lips never left yours, too caught up in the way you felt, the way you gasped softly when the last knot came undone.

meanwhile, you worked fast to undo your top, the sequined fabric falling away as your fingers fumbled at the clasp.

dean pulled back just enough to look down at you, his pupils blown wide, his expression dark and unreadable.

“jesus,” he muttered, voice rough, like he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

you smirked, reaching up to tug at his tie again. “took you long enough, winchester.”

dean’s lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl.

“you’re gonna regret saying that,” he warned, voice dripping with promise.

and then he kissed you again—harder, deeper, like he was determined to make up for every second he’d spent holding back.

separating to catch your breath, your chest heaved as you watched dean make quick work of his clothes.

and god, was he a sight.

his toned stomach, the ridges of muscle shifting with every movement, the broad expanse of his chest—every inch of him was built for this. his strong arms flexed as he tossed his shirt aside, and for a second, you were too distracted to do anything but stare.

dean smirked, catching the way your lips parted, your eyes dark with something between hunger and awe.

“like what ya see, sweetheart?” he teased, his voice dripping with cocky amusement.

you swallowed hard, dragging your gaze up to meet his, refusing to give him the satisfaction of flustering you—even if you were absolutely drooling inside.

with a smirk of your own, you tilted your head and let your fingers trail slowly down his chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the solid muscle beneath.

“i don’t know,” you mused, lips curling as you leaned up, voice dropping into something sultry, “guess i’ll have to touch to be sure.”

dean let out a low chuckle, but the way his breath hitched when your hands slid lower?

he wasn’t laughing anymore.

your hand trailed lower, teasing, until your palm pressed against the hard length straining through his unbuttoned trousers.

dean sucked in a breath, his body tensing under your touch. his head tilted back slightly, jaw clenched, as if he was trying to keep himself from completely falling apart right then and there.

“fuck,” he muttered, voice rough, gravelly, like the word had been dragged out of him.

you smirked, feeling the way he twitched under your touch, the heat of him even through the fabric.

god, you had to feel him inside your mouth.

with slow, deliberate movements, you slid off the bed, sinking to your knees before him. your fingers made quick work of his zipper, tugging his pants and boxers down just enough to free him, and fuck.

dean winchester was big.

your mouth practically watered at the sight, your fingers wrapping around his thick length, giving him an experimental stroke.

dean let out a low, wrecked groan, his hands automatically flying to your hair, his fingers curling at the roots as if he needed something to hold onto.

“jesus christ,” he muttered, looking down at you with blown pupils, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths.

you just smirked up at him, pressing a teasing kiss to the tip before licking a slow, deliberate stripe up his length, making sure to keep eye contact the whole time.

“fuck,” he cursed again, his grip in your hair tightening slightly. “you’re gonna kill me, sweetheart.”

you only hummed in response, lips parting as you finally took him into your mouth—

and dean completely lost it.

his hands flew to your hair, fingers threading through the strands as he held on—not forcing, just holding, like he needed the anchor while you worked him over with that sinful mouth of yours.

dean’s head fell back for a moment, eyes squeezed shut as a deep, guttural groan ripped from his throat.

“fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped, looking back down at you, watching the way your lips stretched around him, the way your head bobbed up and down at a steady rhythm.

the slick, filthy sounds of you gagging on his cock filled the room, mixing with his grunts and sharp exhales.

“jesus—look at you,” he muttered, breathless, his grip tightening just a little when you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him even deeper. “taking me so fuckin’ good.”

your eyes flickered up to meet his, glossy and dazed, and that—that look on your face, the way you were so eager, so desperate to take all of him—had him teetering on the edge.

“shit,” he groaned, one of his hands trailing down to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin in contrast to how filthy this all was. “goddamn mouth of yours—feels so fuckin’ good, baby.”

you hummed at the praise, sending vibrations through his length, and that—that nearly broke him.

“oh, fuck,” he growled, hips jerking slightly despite himself. “keep that up, and i’m not gonna last, sweetheart.”

but that only made you want it more.

so you sucked harder, hollowed your cheeks even more, letting him feel every inch of your tongue, every bit of heat and wetness—

and dean absolutely wrecked.

before he could finish, dean suddenly jerked you off his cock, a slick pop sounding as he pulled free from your mouth. his chest heaved, pupils blown wide, lips parted in a mix of pleasure and frustration.

“shit,” he muttered, breathing heavy as he cupped your jaw, wiping away a bit of spit from your swollen lips with his thumb. “as much as i wanna come down that pretty throat of yours, i need to feel you first.”

his words sent a shiver down your spine, heat pooling deep in your stomach.

dean didn’t give you time to process before he hauled you up effortlessly, his hands gripping your hips as he practically tossed you onto the bed.

you barely had time to gasp before he was on you—pressing you down into the mattress, kissing you deep, his tongue sliding against yours like he was trying to devour you.

his hands roamed your body, squeezing, exploring, before settling between your thighs. his fingers teased at your slick folds, making you whimper against his lips.

“fuck, you’re soaked,” he groaned, dragging his fingers through your wetness before pressing one thick digit inside. “was sucking me off that good for you, sweetheart?”

you whined, hips bucking into his touch, gripping at his shoulders. “dean, please—”

he chuckled darkly, adding another finger, stretching you slightly as he watched you, drinking in the way you squirmed. “oh, i got you, baby,” he rasped, voice thick with promise. “gonna give you exactly what you need.”

and with that, he lined himself up, teasing the tip against your entrance—

then thrust inside, burying himself to the hilt in one slow, deep stroke.

dean was relentless.

his hips snapped against yours, the sheer force of each thrust making the bed creak beneath you. his grip on your hips was tight, holding you down, keeping you exactly where he wanted—like he needed to keep you in place while he fucked you deep.

“fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, jaw clenched, eyes locked onto where your bodies met. “so goddamn tight—taking me so fuckin’ good.”

the stretch was intense, overwhelming in the best way, and all you could do was moan, gripping onto his arms, his back, anything to ground yourself.

then—he shifted.

one of his hands dragged down your leg, rough fingers tracing your skin before he hooked it over his shoulder, pressing in even deeper.

“oh, fuck—” you cried out, back arching as he hit that new angle, that devastatingly perfect spot that had your vision going white.

dean felt the way you clenched around him, heard the way his name spilled from your lips in a wrecked, breathless moan—and he lost it.

“that’s it,” he growled, his pace somehow getting rougher, each thrust harder, deeper, sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. “this what you wanted, huh? needed me to fuck you like this?”

you could barely form words, too lost in the blinding pleasure.

“dean—please—!”

he grunted, leaning down, pressing his forehead against yours even as he kept up his punishing rhythm.

“i got you, baby,” he panted, voice rough, lips brushing against yours. “not stopping ‘til you come all over my cock.”

one of dean’s calloused fingers dragged down your body, rough and deliberate, until it found your achingly sensitive clit.

a sharp cry tore from your throat as he pressed down, rubbing slow, teasing circles that contrasted the relentless snap of his hips. the combination had your entire body trembling, pleasure winding tighter and tighter inside you, coiling like a spring ready to snap.

“that’s it,” dean groaned, watching your every reaction like a man possessed, his finger working you over with precision. “so fuckin’ perfect—gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

you were already there, so close you could taste it, every thrust, every roll of his fingers sending you spiraling closer to the edge.

“dean— oh my god—” you gasped, gripping onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

he growled at that, his rhythm stuttering for half a second before he doubled down—hips slamming into you, fingers rubbing tighter, faster, overwhelming you with everything.

“come on, baby,” he panted, lips brushing your ear. “let me feel it—let go for me.”

and then—you snapped.

your orgasm ripped through you, body arching, legs shaking, a desperate, wrecked moan of his name spilling from your lips as waves of white-hot pleasure crashed over you.

dean groaned at the feeling, the way you clenched down so tight around him, the way your body trembled beneath him, and it sent him tumbling right after you.

“fuck— fuck,” he choked out, burying himself deep as he came, his own release spilling inside you as he gasped your name like a prayer.

dean slowly pulled out, a low groan leaving his lips as he watched the way your body trembled beneath him. his eyes darkened when he saw the mess he made—his release spilling out of your wrecked little hole, glistening against your flushed skin.

his smirk was downright wicked as he dragged two fingers through the slick mess, gathering up every drop before pressing them right back inside you, pushing deep, so slow.

“don’t want it going to waste, do we, sweetheart?” his voice was gravelly, teasing, full of satisfaction as he watched you squirm, still sensitive and wrecked from your orgasm.

a whimper slipped from your lips, your overstimulated walls fluttering around his fingers as he gently fucked them into you, as if he owned you—like he could still feel every aftershock running through your body.

“fuck, baby,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your thigh, his breath hot against your skin. “look so damn pretty like this. completely fucked out.”

he finally pulled his fingers free, but not before bringing them up to his lips, smirking as he licked them clean, groaning low in his throat.

“taste so fucking sweet.”

dean’s smirk softened as he took in the sight of you—your body still trembling slightly, chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. your skin was flushed, glowing in the dim motel light, and fuck, if you weren’t the prettiest damn thing he’d ever seen.

but as much as he loved seeing you like this, spent and wrecked from him, he also knew you needed him now just as much as before—just in a different way.

with a deep breath, he leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before slipping off the bed.

“be right back, sweetheart,” he murmured.

you barely had the energy to respond, only humming in acknowledgment as you stretched across the sheets, already feeling the exhaustion settle in.

dean moved around the room quietly, grabbing one of his clean shirts and a warm, damp washcloth before returning to your side.

“hey, baby,” he said softly, brushing your hair back before running the cloth between your thighs, being so careful, so gentle as he cleaned you up. “still with me?”

“mhm,” you mumbled, sighing at the warmth of his touch.

once he was sure you were all cleaned up, he tossed the cloth aside and helped you into his shirt, the fabric drowning you, but he couldn’t help but grin at the way you looked in it.

“there we go,” he murmured, pulling the blankets over you before sliding in beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against his chest.

the steady thump-thump-thump of his heart was soothing, his body warm and solid against you.

“you good?” he asked, voice softer now, rough edges smoothed over with something gentler.

you nodded, nuzzling into his neck. “yeah… ‘m good.”

dean pressed a kiss to your temple, rubbing slow circles into your back.

“get some sleep, sweetheart,” he whispered. “i got you.”

just as you were getting comfortable, wrapped up in dean’s warmth, the motel door slammed open, making both of you jolt.

“what the hell—” dean started, reaching for the gun under his pillow, but then—

“where the hell have the two of you been?!”

it was sam.

standing in the doorway, pissed, arms crossed, eyes darting between the both of you—dean half-naked under the blankets, you drowning in one of his shirts, curled up against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your face burned.

“uh…” you started, scrambling for some kind of excuse, but what could you even say?

dean, ever the smooth talker, just cleared his throat and smirked, stretching an arm behind his head. “y’know, sammy… you could’ve knocked.”

sam’s expression darkened. “are you—? oh, come on!” he rubbed a hand down his face, looking genuinely distressed. “i’ve been out chasing a damn siren while you two were—” he gestured wildly. “—doing this?!”

you bit your lip, shrinking under his glare, but dean?

dean just grinned. “hey, don’t get all worked up, man. we got plenty done tonight.”

“yeah, i bet you did,” sam deadpanned.

the silence was painfully awkward.

finally, sam just let out a long, exhausted sigh and muttered, “i don’t even wanna know.” he turned on his heel, grumbling something under his breath as he walked to his bed, clearly done with both of you.

you and dean exchanged glances before cracking up, muffling your laughter into the blankets as sam shot you both a glare.

“idiots,” he muttered, flopping down onto his bed. “absolute idiots.”

still grinning, dean pulled you closer, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “totally worth it,” he whispered.

and honestly?

yeah. it was.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Sniffles

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You have the sniffles

A sneeze.

Then tears.

Heart breaking, soul crushing sobs.

Pernille rolls over in bed and cracks open an eye.

You sob, fat wet tears rolling over your cheeks as you sniffle.

"I know," Pernille groans as she sits up in bed and reaches for you as you lay, distraught, in your bassinet," I know. The sneezes aren't very nice."

You sniffle a bit more, your tears having dried out as quickly as they'd arrived as you lay your head limply on Pernille's chest.

She wipes your little nose and you sneeze again.

"I know," She soothes easily, adjusting you so you're more comfortable against her," It's just a little cold but it's the worst, isn't it? You sound so stuffy, princesse."

You whine a little but can't fight the sleepiness that takes hold of you - especially when Pernille gently runs a finger over the bridge of your nose. You're momentarily cross eyed trying to track its path but then your eyelids sag and your mouth parts as you slip back into sleep.

Your breathing is still a little odd and different than usual but Pernille knows it's because of your newfound cold so it isn't much of a worry.

Nothing's really much of a worry that night except your sudden tears at being rudely awoken by your own sneeze.

That and the sound of the door unlocking.

Pernille freezes as she strains her ears to pick up the sound of a key scraping along a lock.

The sound of the front door opening has Pernille quietly placing you back in your crib and even quietly getting to her feet.

She hasn't quite decided whether she's going to barricade the two of you into her room or grab the baseball bat she has hidden in the back of her wardrobe.

It's a toss up between both ideas until there's a crash from the hallway and very loud swearing from a very familiar voice.

Somehow, you manage to stay asleep through all the noise and Pernille throws open the bedroom door and flicks on the light.

Magda's jumping up and down on one foot, clutching the other in her hands as she hops.

"Why is there a toy truck just out in the hallway?!" She demands.

"Did you step on the toy truck?"

"Don't answer my questions with a question!"

"Well, did you?"

"Yes! Yes, obviously, Pernille! I didn't think there would be something waiting to kill me in the dark!"

"Well that's what you get for sneaking your way in here in the dead of night! What are you even doing here?"

"Our baby is sick and you expect me to stay in London?"

"Magda, it's just a cold. She's got the sniffles. That's it."

"She-"

You make your presence known with another sneeze that forces you awake and a disgruntled little huff of annoyance at having your sleep interrupted again.

"She's so sick," Magda bemoans, seemingly forgetting all about her hurt foot as she rushes to your side.

"You're being dramatic," Pernille says with an eye roll," Dramatic and crazy. Magda, you have a match soon."

"Our baby is sick and you want me to worry about a match?!"

You grunt as Magda picks you up, a little hand coming to hit at her chest as your head moves around before your eyes settle on Pernille.

You sniffle a little again before another sneeze rips through your body.

"Oh, princesse," Magda coos as she rocks you," You must feel so awful."

"She's doing alright. She took her medicine so well earlier."

Pernille gently strokes down your nose again and you yawn as your eyes track the path downwards.

"When she's due for some more?"

"In a few hours but I'm hoping she'll sleep through the rest of the night and I can give it to her in the morning."

"Pernille, you look exhausted." Magda gently moves you so you're more firm against her chest," Go to sleep. I'll stay up with her."

"You just got off a plane. You don't hav-"

"I will," Magda insists," We're both the mothers here which means we're both able to pull a night shift. Go to sleep. Rest up. I've got her."

Pernille wants to argue more but she copies you and yawns widely. "Just for a few hours," She says," And then you wake me up."

"Of course," Magda lies as she gently carries you across the hall to your room.

She sits on the rocking chair and you look up at her through tired eyes.

"I'm sorry you feel icky, princesse, but it's okay. Me and Pernille are here to look after you. How about a story? I can tell you a story to help you sleep."

[acid-ixx]

"hostage situation"

series masterlist

nightwing, to his siblings: okay, so we have to be real careful because the joker and harley quinn are holding our baby sibling hostage and we can't put them in anymore danger.

nightwing, looks at red robin: i'm sure they have some traps laid around the lair so you'll be disarming it.

red robin, nods:

robin: then me and todd will be handling any spare targets, no?

nightwing: of course. cass, steph and duke will be guarding the entrance. babs?

oracle, speaking in the intercoms: this is the closest point of entry where (name) is being kept hostage.

red robin: security cams suggest there's more than just harley and the joker in the lair. a bunch of their goons are heavily guarding both the entrance and the exit. we should thread carefully.

oracle: there's no camera's where (name) is exactly at, but there's a specific room where it's shown that the two are often visiting.

batman, who had been lurking behind them: this is a priority mission. we can't afford to make mistakes.

robin, eyebrows raised: though, is it necessary to bring the entire family? me and my father could handle this entirely by ourselves.

jason, sighs: don't pretend like you weren't the first to suggest the entire justice league to come searching for them, kid.

batman: enough arguing, (name) needs all the support they could get after this. so on my count, we are to bust open the door.

dick: alright, everybody, prepare.

*meanwhile, inside the lair, in a makeshift "house"*

(name), sitting on a comfy chair whilst holding a cup of hot chocolate and a book in the other, sneezes: oh— did anyone mention my name?

harley quinn, already on her way to wipe their nose: oh my baby! is our baby sick?!

(name): no, i just suddenly sneezed?

the joker, in another room: i spy with my little eye, a child way past their bedtime~ c'mon babyboo, let's get you to bed!

(name): awe, but it's like, 10pm. i wanna read some more.

harley, about to pick (name) up: then let momma read the book for you in bed, cutesy pie—

*the door to the kitchen slams open*

dick, with his escrima sticks on-hand: surrender (name) to us now or—!

dick, absolutely befuddled: wait, what?!

damian, with bruce in tow: what's the hold up, nightwing?!

damian, about to jump right in front of dick before he was stopped by bruce's hand on his shoulder: what is... this?

bruce: ... explain the meaning of this, harley.

harley, holds (name) closer to her chest as she's equally confused: what do ya mean, bats? ain't it obvious i'm taking care of my child?

(name): uhm...

damian, visibly offended: what do you mean, your child? (name) over there is ours.

the joker, walks over to the room in a hurry: what's with all the commotion over here?! (name) is supposed to be in bed, harle— batman?!

bruce, with squinted eyes: don't act stupid, what is this all about?

nightwing, surveying the room: wait, why is (name) in pajamas?

(name), trying their best to shrug in harley's tight hug: i'm... supposed to go to bed...?

the joker, about to walk over to (name) before he's stopped by a batarang almost hitting the side of his head: hey! what's that for? i'm clearly not trying to attack my own child!

bruce: (name) is my child, not yours.

the joker, glaring at batman: well, it's not my fault they choose me over you!

(name) wayne, interrupting the two: uhm... i did technically disown myself from the family so—

damian: disown yourself?

(name): i have every reason to—

dick: look, baby bird, you don't know what's right for you, these guys are dangerous—

(name): i literally got nearly killed by some nobody criminals if not for harley saving me but okay, nightwing.

bruce, whose attention is now on (name): you almost got what now?

(name), rolling their eyes: i almost died, batman. now if you excuse me, i think i deserve a good night sleep tonight.

(name), looks at harley who still hasn't released them from the protective hug: can we?

harley quinn, facepalming in her mind as she stares back at (name): oh, i should've bought you to pam and selina instead.

[marsdql]

Missed me? [L.HS]

nsfw — mdni [ 18 + + ] | I’m half asleep I cannot be doing a whole template rn I legit js picked my most recnent draft and rolled w it… gokdnfiht folks I cannworry agourbthsi in thenmorning!!!!!! ☺️☺️🙈🙈🙈🙈monkey covering eyes enoji

————————————🗝️—————————————-

Two days.

It had been two whole days since you and Heeseung had fought, and neither of you had backed down.

It wasn’t even about anything serious—just something stupid, something you barely even remembered at this point. But both of you had been too stubborn to apologize first, which led to two full days of silence.

Well, you weren’t exactly silent.

You weren’t about to let him off easy.

You made sure to tease him every chance you got—walking around the apartment in nothing but his shirt and the tiniest shorts, stretching in front of him just to show off your curves, acting all sweet and innocent while keeping your distance. You knew exactly what you were doing.

And it was killing him.

He had been watching you, jaw clenched, eyes dark with frustration. But he didn’t break. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t touch you. And it only made you push him even further.

But now, as you stood in front of the mirror in your shared bedroom, pretending to fix your hair, you could feel his stare burning into you from across the room.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped together, his biceps flexing as he leaned forward, watching you with that look. The one that sent shivers down your spine. The one that told you he was done playing games.

“Having fun, angel?” His voice was low, rough, the restraint clear in his tone.

You bit your lip, acting innocent as you turned around to face him. “What do you mean, Hee?” you asked sweetly, tilting your head.

Heeseung’s jaw ticked. His fingers twitched against his thighs. He was so close to snapping.

“You know exactly what I mean,” he muttered, his dark eyes trailing over your body. “You’ve been teasing me for two days straight.”

You pouted, taking a slow step toward him. “I wasn’t teasing,” you said softly, batting your lashes. “I was just… keeping my distance. Since you didn’t want to talk to me.”

Heeseung let out a sharp breath through his nose, his hands gripping his thighs so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Baby,” he warned, his voice dangerously low.

You took another step closer, standing between his legs, your tiny fingers reaching out to trace over his shoulder. “Did you miss me, Hee?” you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes.

That was it.

His restraint snapped.

In one swift motion, Heeseung grabbed your waist and pulled you down onto his lap, making you gasp. His hands gripped your hips tightly, pressing you flush against his hard body, his lips inches from yours.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. “Walking around like that, acting all sweet while ignoring me?”

You bit your lip, your heart hammering in your chest. “Maybe a little,” you admitted, your voice soft.

Heeseung let out a low groan, his grip tightening on your waist. “You love pushing me, don’t you, angel?”

You nodded, your fingers trailing down his chest. “I like it when you get all rough with me,” you whispered.

Heeseung cursed under his breath, his hands sliding down to your thighs. “You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered before grabbing your chin, tilting your head up so you had no choice but to meet his eyes. “Do you even know how much I’ve missed you?”

Your breath hitched, your teasing demeanor faltering for a moment. “Missed you too, Hee,” you admitted softly, your fingers tightening on his shirt.

Heeseung groaned, his forehead pressing against yours. “Then why the hell did we waste two days?”

You blinked up at him, your lips parting slightly. “Because we’re both stubborn,” you murmured.

Heeseung let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, we are,” he agreed before leaning in, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

The moment his lips touched yours, everything else faded away.

His hands slid up your thighs, gripping your waist as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing against yours. You whimpered against his lips, shifting slightly in his lap, feeling how hard he was beneath you.

Heeseung groaned, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. “You wanna tease me, angel?” he murmured against your lips. “Then you better be ready to take everything I give you.”

You gasped as he suddenly flipped you onto your back, pinning you beneath him. His big hands roamed your body, his touch rough and possessive. “No more running, baby,” he muttered, his lips trailing down your neck. “No more teasing.”

You let out a soft whimper, your fingers gripping his biceps as he kissed down your chest, his hands sliding under your shirt—his shirt. “Hee—”

“I missed you,” he growled, pushing your shirt up, his lips trailing lower. “And now I’m gonna remind you exactly who you belong to.”

You shivered beneath him, your body already trembling with need. “Yours,” you whispered, looking up at him with wide, glossy eyes. “Always yours, Hee.”

Heeseung groaned, his lips capturing yours in a desperate, hungry kiss.

“Too Much for You, Angel?”

“You thought you could get away with teasing me for two days?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. “Walking around in my shirt, acting like a little brat?”

You swallowed hard, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you. “I-I wasn’t—”

A sharp slap landed on your thigh, making you gasp.

“Don’t even try to lie to me, baby,” Heeseung growled, his grip tightening on your waist. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

You let out a small whimper, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Heeseung smirked, tilting his head as he studied your flushed face. “What? You were so bold earlier, acting all innocent while rubbing up against me,” he taunted. “Where’s all that attitude now, angel?”

You bit your lip, avoiding his gaze.

Heeseung grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered. “You’re all talk until I have you like this—spread out and helpless.”

You whimpered, your thighs squeezing together as heat pooled between your legs.

Heeseung noticed. Of course, he did.

“Look at you,” he chuckled darkly, his fingers trailing down your bare stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your tiny shorts. “You like being put in your place, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer, too shy to admit it.

But Heeseung wasn’t having it.

His fingers dipped beneath your waistband, ghosting over your soaked panties. “Answer me, angel,” he demanded. “Or I’ll leave you like this. All needy and desperate.”

Your breath hitched, panic flashing in your wide eyes. “N-No—! Please, Hee,” you whined, gripping his wrist. “I-I do… I like it…”

Heeseung smirked, his fingers pressing against your soaked heat. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured.

Without warning, he yanked your shorts down, tossing them aside before doing the same with your panties. The cold air against your bare skin made you shudder, your thighs instinctively trying to close—but Heeseung didn’t let you.

“Uh-uh,” he tutted, forcing your legs apart. “Let me see what’s mine.”

Your face burned, but the way his dark eyes devoured you only made you wetter.

Heeseung ran two fingers through your slick folds, groaning at how drenched you were. “So fucking wet,” he muttered. “All this from me being mean to you? You really are a dumb little thing, aren’t you?”

You let out a soft sob, your body arching into his touch. “I-I don’t—”

Another sharp slap landed against your inner thigh, making you cry out.

“No talking,” Heeseung ordered. “You don’t get to think, angel. Just be my little toy, yeah?”

You nodded frantically, your body burning with shame and arousal.

Heeseung smirked before lining himself up against your dripping entrance. He was so big, his cock thick and heavy as he rubbed the tip against your swollen clit.

“Already shaking, and I haven’t even put it in yet,” he taunted. “You think you can take me, angel?”

You whimpered, nodding, your fingers gripping his biceps tightly. “Y-Yes, Hee—”

Before you could finish, he slammed into you, bottoming out in one harsh thrust.

A choked sob escaped your lips, your body arching off the bed as Heeseung groaned above you.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips so tightly it hurt. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Tears welled in your eyes, the overwhelming stretch making your head spin. Heeseung was so big, so deep, it felt like he was splitting you in half.

“Aww, poor baby,” he cooed mockingly, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Too much for you?”

You whimpered, blinking up at him through teary eyes.

Heeseung smirked. “Good,” he muttered before pulling out completely—then slamming back into you.

A loud, broken moan tore from your lips as he set a brutal pace, his thrusts deep and relentless. His grip on your waist was firm, keeping you in place as he fucked you into the mattress.

“You wanted this, angel,” he growled. “You begged for it. So take it.”

You could barely breathe, the intensity of it all sending shockwaves through your tiny frame.

“Look at you,” Heeseung groaned, watching the way your body jolted with each thrust. “So fucking small—can barely handle me, huh?”

You nodded desperately, your nails digging into his biceps as tears spilled from your eyes. “I-It’s too much, Hee—”

Heeseung groaned at your broken whimper, his thrusts somehow getting deeper, rougher. “Too much?” he taunted, his hand wrapping around your throat—not squeezing, just holding. “But you love it, don’t you, baby?”

A sob escaped your lips, your body trembling beneath him. “Y-Yes, Hee—b-but I-I—”

Before you could even process it, your body spasmed, pleasure crashing over you in overwhelming waves. You let out a strangled sob, your tiny frame convulsing as you came hard, your walls clenching around him.

“Oh, fuck,” Heeseung groaned, his grip tightening as he chased his own release. “Such a fucking mess, baby. Can’t even take me properly without crying.”

You whimpered, your body still shaking, your mind completely foggy.

Heeseung let out a low groan before slamming into you one last time, his body tensing as he spilled inside you. His warm release filled you to the brim, the sensation making you sob softly.

For a long moment, there was nothing but heavy breathing, your tiny body still trembling beneath him.

Then, everything shifted.

Heeseung’s harsh grip softened, his hands gently stroking your thighs as he slowly pulled out. “Shh, baby,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses to your damp cheeks. “You did so well for me.”

You whimpered, burying your face in his chest. “T-Too much…”

Heeseung’s heart clenched. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, his hands rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I know, angel,” he whispered, his lips pressing gentle kisses along your forehead. “I got carried away. You okay?”

You sniffled, nodding weakly. “J-Just felt so good… so full…”

Heeseung smiled softly, pulling you closer. “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured, wiping your tears away. “I’ll take care of you.”

You hummed sleepily, your body still tingling. “Love you, Hee…”

Heeseung’s heart melted. He held you even tighter, his voice soft and full of adoration. “I love you more, angel.”

[bloodibambiidoll]

love love love the rafe cameron x weirdgirl!reader au!! imagine reader at the country club overhearing some mean boys making fun of her and how rafe is crazy to date someone like her :(( she stays in her room after hearing this and rafe catches her biting herself and crying (she normally bites him but after hearing this she feels like she can’t) oh my heart-

No bc this is like sooo perfect. This is literally so her. I’ve been having a lot of fun coming up with lore for her so I’m so glad you’re liking her so far!! Warnings: (I’d like to note that weird girl is autistic coded bc I am autistic), Reader gets her feelings hurt, protective Rafe, biting 18+MNDI!! Part of this AU

“Yeah dude, she’s like so hot until she opens her mouth.” Your footsteps come to a sudden halt, your shiny black Mary Jane’s squeaking against the polished wooden floors of the country club. There’s a group of guys about your age standing around the corner in a circle all snickering to each other.

“No, yeah, like she says the fucking weirdest shit in that creepy little monotone voice. I have no idea how Rafe puts up with it.”

“The pussy must be out of this world or some shit because I would never be able to handle that. I saw her last week on the beach collecting animal bones or some shit bro. Bet she went back to check on her kill.” The entire group starts busting up laughing just as you feel hot tears start to stream down your cheeks. You just want to leave but they are blocking the only path to the door so you suck it up and high tail it as fast as you past them.

You were waiting for Rafe to be done with his game of golf but after that? You really didn’t want to bother him with wanting to leave early so you decided to just walk the mile and a half home. If you were lucky maybe you’d run into the neighborhood cat you befriended and he would walk part of the way with you.

When you get home you rush up the stairs and into your room, slamming the door behind you. Your head is swimming with negative thoughts. You were always scared you were too weird for Rafe, too much, too different from him. So when you hear guys he hangs around saying things like that about you? It’s hard to not let it get to your head.

You kick off your shoes and practically tear off the cute outfit you spent over an hour putting together. You grab your pink fuzzy robe, and walk over to your bunny’s cage, smiling down at her with watery eyes.

“I think you’re the only one that really understands me, Lydia.” Your bottom lip wobbles as you pick her up and walk over to your bed. You rock back and forth slightly as you caress her fur, trying to self soothe. You’re realizing in this moment that maybe you really are too much for Rafe because you hardly remember how to calm yourself down without him.

You wish so badly that he was here. You know he would hold you tight and let you sink your teeth into him until your tears stopped flowing. It seems to be one of the only things that truly calms you down so you decide to bring your own hand up to your mouth and bite down on it. It soothes you a little, but it isn’t Rafe. He’s called you a few times but you just let it ring, he’s probably worried, but you’re too embarrassed to pick up.

“Baby? Are you here?” The minute you hear Rafe’s voice you want to run to him, but the words of the boys at the country club playing in your head on repeat in your head cements you in place. “Bats?”

When he opens your bedroom door and takes in the sight of you his heart sinks.

“Baby girl, what’s going on? What happened? Where did you go? You scared the shit outta me.” He rushes over to you, coming to sit next to you on your bed. He rests his large hands on your calves and rubs soothing circles on your skin with the pads of his thumbs. You whimper and shake your head, your mouth still latched onto your hand. “Batty, you’ve gotta talk to me, okay? Tell me what’s going on.”

“I was…” You pull your hand away from your face, resting it on Lydia’s back as you pet her softly, the feeling of her fur grounding you. “I was coming back from the bathroom and I heard Jake and those guys… talking about me.”

“What about you?” Rafe’s voice takes on a protective tone, especially when another fit of sobs erupts through you. He hooks his arms under you so he can pull you and your bunny softly into his lap. “Princess. Tell me what they said.”

“They said - they said that they don’t know how you put up with me because I’m so weird and that you’re probably only with me because the pussy is good.” You sniffle as your tears continue to fall and if Rafe didn’t know you needed him right now he would be on his way back to the club to beat all of their asses until they couldn’t walk.

“Hey, hey, nah, none of that.” He cups your face in his hand, wiping away your tears. “You know I love you, all your weird shit and all. I’m not ‘putting up’ with you, I fuckin’ love your weird little ass.”

“They also… they also said that - that I probably kill animals…” You start sobbing again and Rafe’s entire body tenses. He knows how much you love animals, how important they are to you. He wants to fucking rip their throats out.

“Princess… I’m so sorry they said that. They just don’t know you, aight? You’d never harm a fly. Don’t let that shit get to you. I know it’s hard, but fuck em, they don’t know fuckin’ shit about my baby.” He gives you a reassuring smile as he wipes away some of your remaining tears. His hand swipes past your lips and you turn your head slightly to sink your teeth into it. He chuckles, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “There’s my weird girl.”

[theemporium]

Flirtini "Shouldn't you be in my bed?" with Sirius plz plz plz plz

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

11. “Shouldn’t you be in my bed?”

.

“You look smashing today, love.” 

“Beat it, Black.”

Sirius’ smile only widened at the utterly bored tone of your voice as he settled into the spot next to you. Your eyes remained on the party around you, watching with narrowed and calculated eyes. It was almost endearing, in the same way a snake staring at its prey before it attacked was. 

He didn’t think he had ever been more attracted to you. 

“Aw, baby, don’t go breaking my heart like that,” Sirius commented with a mocking pout on his lips and a hand over his heart. “You’re killing me.” 

“Good,” you deadpanned. 

“Careful,” he teased, head tilting in amusement as he watched your hand grip the glass in your hand. “I almost detected some emotions there. You’re losing your touch.” 

“Oh, bite me,” you scoffed as you finally turned to look at him, your eyes narrowed in annoyance and irritation. 

“Just tell me where,” he retorted with a charming smile. “I promise I’m obedient when the incentive is right.” 

“Shouldn’t you be running around with your little prankster manchildren friends?” You commented, your jaw twitching a little as he took a step towards you and reached up to softly tuck some hair behind your ear before you could bat his hand away. 

“Shouldn’t you be in my bed?” He replied, so unbothered and unfazed by your clear disdain. 

It irked you.

“Do you ever stop?” You huffed out, stepping back a little but he just moved closer.

“You complain so much but if I was really annoying you, you would have blasted me across the room with a simple flick of your want,” Sirius noted with a smug look in his eyes. “I saw you do the exact same thing to Rosier the other week.” 

Your lips twitched a little. “The worm deserved it.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt it, baby,” Sirius grinned back at you. “But that just tells me that you have gotta like something about me if you’re not hexing me into next Sunday.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sirius.” 

“Sirius, is it now?” He teased, his voice positively gleeful. “I’m breaking down your walls, love. You’re bound to give in soon enough. I know you want me just as badly.” 

You let out a small huff of amusement. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” 

“Got some really pretty dreams of you that help me sleep at night,” he retorted, flashing you a wink before he took a sip of his drink and turned on his heel to walk away.

.

[trendywaifus]

↳ i’m like the wind, baby!

turns out the infamous serial killer is pretty hot and stupid so you take advantage of that. — inspired by scary movie.

↳ featuring, ghostface! stelle

(cw)— fem! dom! reader, reader is a pervert, stelle has a cock, humiliation, vaginal sex, penetration, blowjob, overstimulation, dubcon, handjob, teasing, cursing, pet names, injury

you yelped at the abrupt sound of the shitty telephone ringing through the kitchen, breaking the ominous silence. with a racing heart, you stalk over towards the phone. sighing heavily through your nose, you picked up the phone reluctantly,

“ hello? look, this isn’t funny, stop calling my—“

a deep feminine voice interrupts you,

“ i’m going to kill you, i’m going to chop you up into pieces and stuff you into a trash bag. “

you gasped in shock, “ wh-what the fuck? who are you, how did you get my num—“

“ i’m in the house. “ the woman giggles on the other end. you immediately pace over to the living room, looking around the room frantically as they continued to taunt and giggle into your ear like a child.

“ i can be anywhere, i’m like the wind, baby. where am i? “

your gaze landed on a pair of black shoes sticking out from the side of the couch. brows furrowed with confusion, you responded back, “ uhm. .you’re behind the couch? “ what caused you to be puzzled even more was the genuine confusion in their voice upon your discovery.

“ h-how, how did you know? “

you wanted to face palm so bad.

“ because your shoes are literally poking out from the side of the couch. “

clad in an all black costume with the rumored ghost face mask, the killer immediately stands up, groaning with the phone still pressed up against their ear through the mask. “ okay, okay— let me try again. turn around! no peeking! “

fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turned around. grunting and rustling bounces of the walls of the living room. was this really the killer that supposedly committed multiple brutal murders?

“ okay, now you can turn around. can you guess where i am now? “ they asked, giggling. you turned back around, already noticing the knife poking around from behind the curtains of the large window. “nooo, i don’t. where could you possibly be? “ you inquired sarcastically, slowly walking out the room, hoping to sneak towards the front door to escape.

“ i’ll give you a big clue! “ they popped out from the behind the curtains, somehow jumpscaring the absolute shit out of you. you dropped the phone in terror and sprinted towards the stairs. before they can follow behind you, they randomly slipped on the wooden floor. hearing the loud thump accompanied with a soft groan, you whipped your head around to see what happened. your jaw dropped in shock at the mask and knife strewn about on the floor.

“ holy shit! you’re a woman?! a handsome looking one at that! “ you gawked, looking over at the grey–haired woman in awe. at this point, you’re not even scared anymore. “ seriously, now i don’t even mind you being a dumb serial killer, why don’t we settle this in bed? “

a deep blush appears on her cheeks. “ you’re such a freak! i’m definitely cutting off your tongue first! “ she hurriedly slides her mask back on and grabs her knife before running up the stairs after you. “ and i’m the freak! “ you quickly grabbed a random vase from a small shelf and threw it at her. it shatters on her head and stuns her for a few moments, giving you enough time to run up the last flight of stairs and dash to your room. you snatched the bat from your closet and hid behind the door.

not a second later, she comes rushing in the bedroom, breathing heavily. “ shit, why is this mask so stuffy? “ she mumbles to herself then blurts out, “ come out, skank. maybe i’ll give you a chance if you let me drag my totally big, super sharp, knife across your pretty skin—“

you tip–toed over to the supposed killer, raising your bat to strike her. her back was facing you which made it quite easy to whack her on the head. “gotcha, you dumb raccoon!” you grinned, proudly watching her tumble over to the bed, groaning in pain. you have her right where you want her. you pounced on the taller woman, taking the knife from her hand and tossed it somewhere in the room. “ honestly, how did i catch you first and i’m suppose to be the victim? “ you mused loudly, flipping her around on her back and pulled the mask off from her head.

she peers at you through her messy grey hair, shockingly beautiful golden eyes dazed from the blow to the head. you kind of felt bad, she reminded you of a hurt puppy. you straddled her hips, pinning her wrists down with both hands. “ i didn’t hit you too hard, did i baby? here, i’ll make you feel better.” you pressed your lips against hers hungrily, not caring about the metallic taste. perhaps you may have hit her too hard because she’s barely even fighting back.

“ lemme go. .” she demands weakly. you pepper kisses along her jaw and down her neck. “ and to do what, sweetheart? kill me? you’re cute. “ you laughed, running a hand over her chest and squeezed one of the supple mound of flesh. it felt like it was little above average. “ tits probably bigger than mine. “

she emits a cute little mewl, a suspicious object brushes against your thigh. curious, you instinctively palmed it. the pretty woman moans loudly, buckling her hips against your hand. “ don’t tell me. .” your gaze skims down to confirm your suspicions. you squeeze it experimentally, she whimpers. you stroke it, it pulsates. “ pl-please stop. .” she looks at you with tears already in her eyes. why was she the one begging and crying?

“ you have a dick? wow, it feels like i caught a rare pokémon. “

you pulled down the zipper of her ragged black pants and freed her cock from her boxers. it stood up proud, not too big or small at all; it was the perfect size with decent girth and curve. “ fuck, how could you be a killer, “ your hand wraps around her cock and stroking it painfully slow. “ but be so fuckin’ silly and dumb? “

“ d-don’t call me dumb! “ she chokes out through her tears, biting her lips to hold back a throaty moan. pre-cum pools out of her mushroom tip, you swiped your fingers over it to use it as lube. you grinned mischievously and dipped down to whisper in her ear. “ but you are, pretty girl. you broke into my home and waste my time to try at your attempt to “kill” me? play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.“ you fastened your pace, fisting her throbbing cock.

she sobs, arching her back in pleasure as she feels the tension tighten in her abdomen. “shit, m’gonna cum—cumming! “ her cock pulsates, thick ropes of cum spurts everywhere and gets all over the sheets and her pants. “ woah, you came so much from just me stroking you, this is practically straight out of a shitty porn scene. “ you scoffed.

exhausted, her chest heaves heavily, mind clouded with lust. the fact that her dick was still hard made your heart jump with excitement. she watches you with tired eyes as you reposition yourself between her legs. “ you still have more for me, good. “ you encircles your lips around her shaft, licking at the remains of her cum. her breathe hitches as she feels your warm mouth fully take her.

you lazily moved your lips up and down on her sensitive cock, taking note of the occasional twitch in your mouth.“ o-oh shit. .! “ she breathes, her gloved hands flies to your head, weakly tugging at your (h/c) locks. the flat of your warm tongue drags itself along the base, leaving trails of saliva and cum. she desperately pushes her hips further against your mouth, allowing more of her cock to inch further to the back of your throat. “your mouth feels s’good! ”she whimpers, fat tears running down her flush cheeks.

in response, you moved faster and albeit sloppily, so did her hips. the lewd slurping noises coming from you completely pushed her over the edge. “ f-fuck, i’m cumming again! “ she throws her head back in pure ecstasy, eye squeezed shut as she cums in your mouth. you swallowed the best you could but there was still lots it gushing out of your mouth and dribbling down her cock.

you pulled away, licking the remains of her seed off your lips. “ w-want m-more. “ she whines softly at the loss of warmth and pleasure. you chuckled at her eagerness and undid your jeans then discarded them on the floor. “ oh, you will. “ you positioned yourself over her length, pulling your soaked panties to the side. “ i’m not gonna miss a chance to fuck a hot, stupid serial killer like you silly. “ lining yourself up with her tip, you slowly sinked yourself down.

your aching pussy welcomes her cock like a blanket. you moaned at the nice feeling of her stretching you out. “ fuck, you even feel perfect inside of me. “ her hands places themselves on your hips and squeezed them weakly, urging you to move. you lifted your hips up, her cock dragging against your walls before slamming back down. “ you’re s’tight. . ! “ she moanful groans, trying her best to keep up with your little ruts. drool escapes her lips, nothing but pleasure and euphoria fills her body. “ I know baby, you can handle it. “ you cooed.

the bed creaks with every roll of your hips, pushing her further into the mattress. grey hair messily splayed across the sheets, face cutely scrunched up, and lips parted open; waiting to be swollen up by your lips—why does she gotta be so—

“ damn stupid?! “ you cried disappointedly, continuing to ride her dick. “ on top of that, a fucking serial killer! “

your supposed attacker was too pussy drunk to even fully comprehend your outburst.

[izurou]

every morning, and often throughout the night, you’ll stretch a foot over to satoru’s side of the bed and make contact with him.

what comes across as a simple desire for physical touch, is actually a habit of yours—one born from both fear and experience. it’d be far from the first time you woke up and he wasn’t there, but things are different now, and you need him to be there.

but this morning, all you feel is cold sheets.

you sit up and rub at your eyes before looking out the window—finding your usual view blurred with rain. you shiver a little at the sight, or maybe—at the foreign emptiness of the room.

and that’s when you realize that, not only is satoru missing from your bed—the small white crib off to your right is also missing your daughter.

you think the worst on instinct. irrational, you’re well aware—there’s no reason for such thoughts anymore, but they still manage to penetrate your freshly conscious mind nonetheless.

that is, until a pair of giggles sneak past the little crack in your bedroom door, acting as the perfect antidote to your conclusion jumping.

now, you find yourself getting out of bed just a bit too eagerly for a gloomy sunday morning—sliding into your slippers before shuffling towards the door and down the hallway. you wrap your arms around yourself as you walk, both hoping for and needing a little extra love from at least one, but preferably both of your babies.

satoru’s voice becomes clearer as you near, and you’re just around the corner when you hear him ask your daughter, who can’t talk yet, a question.

“yeah? you like the rain?”

an odd thing to ask a seven month old, though it makes a little more sense when you actually see them.

the two are in the kitchen, and your daughter—strapped into her high chair, is staring out the large window with her big blue eyes, completely mesmerized. satoru sits hunched over in a dining room chair, watching her with the exact same expression while he holds a plastic green spoon up to her mouth, like he’s interviewing her.

“satoru?” in unison, the duo turn their heads at the sound of your voice. “what are you doing?”

“killing time,” he smiles at you before turning to your baby, who now has her chubby little hands wrapped around a couple of his fingers. “we were starting to think you’d never come to. isn’t that right sweetheart?”

she babbles excitedly in response, seemingly agreeing.

the transition from bassinet to crib hasn’t been an easy one, and last night was probably one of her worst so far. you’ll always rock her, and while she falls asleep easy enough—the second she’s put down, she’ll wake up and cry.

“sorry,” you sigh, padding over to the two. “she was up most of the night, i—”

“needed the rest,” he finishes for you—wiggling his fingers around and earning himself a few more precious baby giggles. “we know.”

you give him a smile, and he returns it in a much more devious fashion—as if he’s saying you owe me for this. on any other day, you’d roll your eyes at something like that, but it’s almost nine am, and you crawled out of bed just moments ago—there isn’t much you wouldn’t do for him at this point.

satoru wraps an arm around one of your thighs as you stand next to him, and he pockets your grin—knowing it holds all the gratitude in the world, and a little something more.

though, you just end up batting him away when you notice the empty bowl sitting on the tray of your daughter’s high chair.

“she ate all her breakfast?” you ask, peering over to see if he hid any of her yogurt in the pouch of her silicone bib. “why don’t you ever do that for me?”

you lean down to boop a finger on her nose, and she kicks her feet in excitement—letting out something between a squeal and a laugh.

“‘cause you like me better, right?” satoru chimes in, holding his makeshift microphone in front of her with a toothy grin—which gets her to babble, for some reason. “oh? what’s that? i’m the best? your favourite?”

you bring a hand up to flick the back of his head—even though sometimes you think he’s right with the way she’s always smiling at him, but you just chalk it up to his high contrast, baby friendly look instead.

“think you misheard,” you point out, “sounded like ew dad, you stink to me.”

your husband—dramatic, and a sucker for your baby girl, flops down onto her little plastic tray in defeat.

“say it’s not true,” he whines, sneakily tickling one of her feet to get her to laugh but, consequently causing her to smack her hands on his head. “hey, hey!”

“that’s my girl,” you snort, and she babbles some more—loving the attention she’s getting from the two of you.

“hmm?” satoru leans in closer to her, as if she’s about to tell him a secret, and then he shields his mouth with his hand to respond. “yeah i know, i think that smell’s coming from over there too.”

the two smile at each other, and while it might be at your expense, you find yourself smiling too.

because you can see it now—satoru picking your daughter up from her first day of kindergarten, begging for the scoop on all her new classmates. he’d listen attentively, and pry just a little further every time she mentions a more masculine name—selfishly wanting to ensure that he’s still her favourite boy.

it’s just a thought of course, but you’ll definitely be holding him a little closer tonight.

“look, she’s doing it!” satoru pulls you back to the present moment, nudging your leg with his elbow. he’s given your baby her little silicone cup—the one she’s learning to drink from. she has it tilted back, spilling milk half into her mouth, and half into her bib. “kind of.”

once she’s quenched her thirst, she haphazardly tosses the cup onto her tray, and you note the white residue that sits on her top lip.

“well, satoru?” you grin at him, grabbing the long forgotten plastic green spoon—microphone, and holding it up to your husband’s mouth.

he furrows his brows and opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“how does it feel knowing your daughter has more of a stache right now than you ever will?”

he grins, at you and then her. “that’s my girl.”

[ghouljams]

Currently laughing at the thought of Nikto dealing with the Shining AU, but all it is is the ghosts trying to convince him to kill his partner and Nikto completely ignoring them because he already lives with the voices in his head saying much crazier shit and is entirely unfazed.

Ghosts: Kill your wife! Do it!!

Nikto, thinking he's suddenly developed another voice in his head:

Omg shining au Nikto who is having the most normal time is actually so fucking funny.

The Overlook tries, dear God does it try, but the man's already lost his mind. The ghosts can't shatter it any further. He doesn't even bat an eye when they try to talk to him. He just keeps going about his day, ignoring their attempts to lure him to the bar, and spending evenings with his family.

It's a welcome break, caretaker. Nikto didn't expect to find a job so perfect. No people for miles, no loud noises, no flashing lights or gunshots, just you and his boy and the snow. It's been wonderful. The noise has quieted down, the nightmares are slow, and you're here.

"Moya milaya?" Nikto's voice feels rough as he claws at the empty space beside him. He sits up in his bed, and stares through the kitchen to the open door of his son's room. It's only as the bile is rising in his through that he hears the clatter of cart wheels, the sing-song sound of his son asking questions as quickly as you can answer them. You peak around the archway into the room with a smile and shoo the boy out of the way to show off the stack of pancakes you've both created.

"Papa!" The boy rushes to clambor onto the bed, tugging at the quilt to aid his climb until Nikto takes pity on the little thing and hauls him up against his side. "We made breakfast." His son tells him in soft Russian.

"We see." Nikto hums. He turns this feeling over in his chest, feels the stings that bind it, unfamiliar and yet so deeply known. Worries flow as estuaries of care. He settles a hand on the boy's head. "Are you still seeing the little girls?" He asks.

The boys brows draw together, his lips pout as he hangs his head under Nikto's heavy hand. He gives a short nod and Nikto feels his pulling at his heart. He sees the pain on your face, an expression of concern you try so hard to hide. There isn't anything to be done about it but mamage it. Nikto knows that all too well.

"We will investigate." He assures his son.

His own voices have gotten more aggressive since the move up here. He'd almost think they'd gotten worse if this didn't happen periodically. They get loud before shrinking back into their grumbling. He thought it was from Zakhaev, but perhaps it was genetic.

"They're not mean," the boy tells him quietly, "you said they were only bad if they were mean."

Nikto stiffens. "We did say that." He agrees. This boy... so much gentler than he ever had the chance to be. That's your doing. Your loving hands that hold the boy's face and tell him things will be alright. Nikto has only ever wiped tears with an awkwardness that felt alien to his bones. Somehow it's never stopped the way his son hugs his leg, jumps to grab his hand, or kisses the side of his mask the same as you do.

"Papa only wants to keep you safe baby," you coo at your son, scooping him into your arms and collapsing back onto the bed, onto Nikto, again, "he won't hurt the little girls."

Nikto wraps his arms around you and the boy, watches the way his son puffs up in outrage. It's almost funny.

"Papa wouldn't hurt them!" The boy tells you, almost chastising. You blink at the child in surprise. Nikto joins your staring.

Even you know he is a dangerous man, he'd thought the child might at least fear- and yet-

Well, he's never had someone defend him so vehemently before.

[cal-flakes]

hi, I adore your fics, congratulations on 1.5k!!

could I request soft dealer! rafe with ‘please stay’ & ‘shhh we’ll get caught’

tysm <3

╰┈➤ prompt fourteen/twenty, dealer!rafe

warnings: light swearing, maybank!reader x dealer!rafe, mostly fluff.

“please stay..” she whispered while she leant her head on his chest, her eyes fluttering shut in comfort as he stroked the back of her head. her brows furrowed as rafe pulled away to frown at her. “sweetheart, we both know your brother would kill you if he caught me here..” he sighed, his features softening at the sight of her pouty lips.

“who cares? you’re rafe cameron” she teased, batting her lashes as she looked up at him. shaking his head, he chuckled as he pulled her in for a gentle kiss.

“i’m not scared of your brother baby, i’m scared of what he might do to you..” he muttered into her hair. “i don’t care, please just stay, i don’t want to sleep alone tonight..” she plead. y/n’s heart fluttered as he hummed in response, signalling what she’d learned to be a yes.

she squealed excitedly as she pulled him into the house quickly, her eagerness causing her to knock into the already-untidy shoe rack in the hallway. “shh, we’ll get caught” rafe whispered, shooing her further down the hall towards her bedroom.

the pair rushed into her room, muffling their laughter with clammy hands. “y/n? that you?” she heard her brother call from his room. eyes wide, she turned to rafe, slowly pulling a finger to her lips as she went to call back. “yeah jay! just going to sleep, super long day!” she shouted before immediately falling silent, anticipating confirmation of whether she’d pulled it off or not.

“‘alright, well- i’m heading out to john b’s soon, call me if you need something or whatever”

turning back to rafe, she grinned up at him as she pushed him on the bed, only to launch herself on top of him. “i told you it was fine!”

[flowercrowngods]

for prompt tag!

28. i'm just getting comfy (would love if this was established relationship/domestic fluff.. perhaps one of them is sick in this... idk)

but also take your time 🫡🫂

in which steve is sick but that won't stop soft boys hours

When Eddie hears the sound of fuzzy sock-clad feet dragging over the hardwood floor, accompanied by a sniffle or two, he drops the book he's reading onto his chest, exasperated by his restless boyfriend who refuses to stay in bed after Eddie tucked him in — again! Ready to give him A Look and tell him to get back to bed, because whatever it is he needs, Eddie can and will get it for him, Just go back to bed, Stevie. 

But whatever words were on the tip of his tongue even just a second ago have disappeared at seeing Steve – the same way that they always used to when they've only been dating for a few months. Instead of giving him anything remotely like A Look, Eddie grins, and instead of exasperated, all he feels is immeasurably fond. Endeared. Fucking enamoured. 

Because Steve, in all his pale, sniffly-nosed glory, is standing in the doorway to the living room, blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, painting everything golden and bringing colour back to him, too. But it's not the way the light catches on his skin that makes Eddie fall in love all over again in what Robin would describe the most pathetic way possible, no. 

The thing that makes Eddie want to propose on the spot, in sickness and in health, is the fact that Steve is wearing Eddie's woollen hat. The one Joyce knitted for him with thick, soft, dark brown wool a few Christmases ago, with two distinctive bat ears sticking up.

God, where did Steve even unbury that? 

And what business does he have looking so absolutely fucking adorable wearing it?  His glasses are askew, the hair sticking out from beneath the hat is tousled and greasy, and the bags under his eyes are stark against his sickly pale skin that makes his nose shine red. 

Eddie is about to die with how much he loves him. It’s like a scream lodged in his throat that he cannot let out, an urge that grows evermore to let the whole world know, to not rest until the last person knew about his endless, endless, endless love for this angel of a man. 

In sickness and in health. It is there, residing in the back of his head, and he almost says it out loud — but Stevie would kill him if Eddie proposed to him because of a stupid woollen hat with bat ears (Sorry, Robbie). 

“Baby,” he breathes instead, miraculously keeping a hold of his heart in this wave of affection that overcame him so suddenly. “You good? Everything okay?” 

“Mhmm,” Steve hums, though it’s more of a growl with how rough his voice is. He wipes at his face, almost nudging his glasses off his nose, and Eddie can’t keep in the chuckle that bubbles out of him. 

He’s about to get up off the couch and wrap the angel with bat ears in his arms, just because he can, but then Steve is already approaching him, the blanket thrown around his shoulders dragging on the floor just as much as his feet. There is something so young about Steve when he’s sick, something so vulnerable and raw that makes Eddie want to latch onto him and never let go. Protect him from the evil germs and the headaches they bring. It’s dumb. Stupid, really. 

Eddie doesn’t even try to fight it as he sits up and holds out his arms for Steve to fall into. He brushes kiss after kiss to his overheated skin as Steve cuddles into him, burying his face in Eddie’s neck and his hands underneath his shirt. 

They hum in unison, finding a sound for serenity.

“That’s my hat,” Eddie says after a while, breathing in his sick angel and feeling him melt in his arms. 

“Our hat,” Steve mumbles into his skin. "My turn to be Batman."

Eddie laughs, wrapping his arms tighter around him, giving in to the urge to hold, the urge to never let go. “You’re ridiculous, d’you know that?” 

“I did know that,” Steve says, and he somehow manages so sound proud of that. 

“Good, just making sure,” Eddie remarks, hiding his own grin in Steve’s cheek, nosing along his temple and the edge of the hat. After a moment of silence that they spend just holding onto each other, he murmurs, “You need anything?”

Steve shakes his head, winding his arms tighter around Eddie’s shoulders and leans into him; it takes him a moment to catch up with Steve, but eventually he lets himself fall backwards so they’re lying flat on the couch. 

“What are you doing, hm?” he asks, reaching for the blanket that has pooled around Steve’s legs and pulls it up again, wrapping it around his shoulders properly again. 

“I’m just getting comfy,” Steve rumbles, slowly and sluggishly wiggling and twisting on top of him until he stills with a satisfied hum that sounds a lot like a smile. 

“Good?” 

Another hum, affirmative this time, as Steve buries his cold fingers underneath Eddie’s body. “You’re warm.” 

“And you have a fever.” 

“Hmm. Still.” 

It makes him grin again, makes him want to burst and scream and cry and laugh endlessly. 

“Ridiculous,” he says again, no louder than a whisper, and Steve turns his head to press a kiss to the centre of Eddie’s chest. It’s as much of a No, you as Eddie’s going to get, and he cherishes it with everything he has. 

“I like that,” Steve says, half asleep by the sound of it.

Eddie reaches for Steve's glasses and places them on the coffee table, and tucks the hat back over his ears. When no elaboration follows, asks, “You like what, angel?” 

“That. Your voice. Feels nice.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhmm.”

“Want me to read to you? I think you might like this book, actually.” 

Another hum, another kiss — to his heart this time. “I like everything about you.”

“That’s what I wanna hear,” Eddie laughs, reaching for the battered copy of Momo that’s been one of his favourites since Wayne brought it home on a rainy night in ’85 and Eddie stayed up all night devouring it. 

“At the edge of the city,” he starts reading the blurb, to give Steve an idea what this is about and let him decide if he wants to listen in or just feel the rumbling of Eddie’s voice in his chest, “in the ruins of an old amphitheatre, there lives a little homeless girl called Momo. Momo has a special talent which she uses to help all her friends who come to visit her. Then one day the sinister men in grey arrive and silently take over the city. Only Momo has the power to resist them, and with the help of Professor Hora and his strange tortoise, Cassiopeia, she travels beyond the boundaries of time to uncover their dark secrets.”

Steve doesn’t react, but Eddie can feel that he’s not quite asleep yet, so he opens the book and starts reading from the beginning that he almost knows by heart. Somewhere on page seven, Steve takes to playing with Eddie’s hair, carding slow fingers through the strands in the gentlest way that is almost enough to distract him. Switching the book from one hand to another as his arms get heavy from the position he’s holding the book, he always has one hand drawing idle patterns underneath the blanket, between Steve’s shoulder blades. 

It’s a slow afternoon as the sun sets on them, painting them in golden hues of orange and rose. Once he’s sure Steve is asleep and the living room too dark to keep reading, Eddie puts down the book and sneaks his arms under the blanket, wrapping them loosely around Steve’s shoulders to follow him into dreamland.  

hope this lives up to what you had in mind! 🫶

[dilfl0v3rss]

basketball player!ony who takes his career very seriously. he was the star in high school when you met him and he is the star now at his big name d1 college.

basketball player!ony who’s been scouted by many nba teams, but refuses to go into the draft until he gets his degree. you and him have been together since freshman year of high school and he doesn’t plan on changing that no matter how much recognition he gets.

basketball player!ony who is about 6’5, playing as his schools starting point guard. he averages about twenty-six points a game and wears the number 3. sometimes basketball player!ony can get very hard on himself when he doesn’t perform the way he wants to and he always needs you there to help. whether it be getting his rebounds or watching his previous film, basketball player!ony always looked to you first.

basketball player!ony who begged you to go to the same college as him, not thinking he would survive being away from you and you didn’t mind because you felt the exact same way.

basketball player!ony who has to shoot down different girls everyday. constantly throwing away love letters and gifts from the many girls on campus. sometimes splitting the candy he’d get with you.

basketball player!ony who is rarely seen without you unless he is at practice or a game and during those games he always made sure you are seated in the nearest seat to the bench. throwing you a quick wink with a smirk when he’d make a tough shot.

basketball player!ony who’d always bring you up in his interviews after games.

“onyankopon what a great game tonight. you did spectacular ending with thirty-seven points, twelve assists and eleven rebounds. how does it feel to be such a big asset to the team at such a young age?”

“uhhm i just come out here and perform like i normally do. i love this game and it’d be disrespectful of me to not play at my full potential as often as i can. i also wanna give a shout-out to my beautiful girlfriend y/n. there have been nights where it’s just me and her watching film, breaking each game down to make me better. i wouldn’t have made it this far without you mama. i love you”

he’d say, looking straight into the camera as if you were watching him through it. (the interview went viral btw)

basketball player!ony who has you wear his chains for each game since he can’t wear jewelry while playing, not letting you take them off until the two of you got to his dorm room.

“fuck keep ridin’ it just like that baby.” he groaned as you bounced up and down on your boyfriends dick, pretty gold chains dangling from your neck as you slowed your pace. he had just finished a game and needed to get you home immediately after seeing a random from the crowd try to flirt with you, snatching your attention away from him while he was killing his opponents. one of his favorite things about you was that you loved basketball just as much as he did, watching every game without batting an eye.

you gave your boyfriend your full attention and even gave him criticism to show for how much you were paying attention. the fact that some random nigga can snatch that attention from him boiled his blood. his legs were tired and already getting sore from the game as he lay comfortably under you. “daddy m’tireddd” you have been going at it for almost an hour, but basketball player!ony knew you were a good girl and wouldn’t stop until he said to. “ion care. keep that same pace until i nut in you”

basketball player!ony who also let you pick his jersey number.

it was the night after graduation when he had your legs pressed up to your chest on the bed. basketball player!ony fed you deep strokes as he talked to you about your future with him. “how many babies you want daddy t’give you?” he groaned in your ear while pushing himself deeper. you moaned out loud as you felt him kiss your cervix, eyes rolling back as you were slowly going in and out of awareness. “c’mon mama i need an answer it’s important”

you had no idea why he was so eager for an answer but you knew he wasn’t going to let you cum until you told him. he let go of your legs and held both of your hands in his. staring you in the eyes as he slowed his speed and deepened his strokes. you were falling more in love with this man everyday. “i know you like that, but i need you to give me an answer or daddy gon have to stop.” your back arched off the bed as your boyfriend hit a particularly sensitive spot in you. he knew you were close, but he really needed you to answer his question. he stopped completely, staying inside of you as he waited for a reply. you mewled, upset at the lack of friction. “i know mama i know. just tell me how many and i’ll fuck you ‘til you wet this bed up.”

“t-three.” you whispered. it was barely audible, but he heard you, asking again for clarification. “speak up baby” “t-threeee ohh myyy goddd daddy waitttt” you freed one of your hands before pawing at his stomach. he pounded into you at a quick pace, drawing your orgasm out quickly as you spasmed around his dick. “and ima take care of you and them when i go pro i swear. they not gon have to worry about a damn thing and ima wear that number on my back to remind the both of us who we doin this shit for” the two of you came together, holding each other as fatigue got the best of you and ushered the both of you to sleep. your boyfriend never forgot what he swore to do and kept up with it through college.

basketball player!ony never started a game without first kissing his three fingers and pressing them on his jersey. letting you know he always remembered his promise to you.

[imtryingbuck]

Oh, He Cheated

~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader walks in on her boyfriend cheating then confessions are made

Word count: 919

Warnings: angst? fluff? ima say both, idk. stds are mentioned, swearing, somebody gets punched, and I think that’s it – oh a protective bucky

Masterlist

Walking into your apartment, you come to a halt. You hear noises of pleasure. Looking into your bedroom you see your boyfriend of 3 years having sex with your best friend. You should be devastated of the betrayal, but you simply can’t however you do have to stifle that booming laughter from clawing its way out. You just walk back out the door quietly shutting the door and head back to the tower. 

You work for Tony as an “assistant” more like you get paid a ridiculous amount of money just to make sure Tony eats and drinks and not sleep in his lab. Curtsy of Pepper. Both look at you as their daughter which is great as you don’t have a good relationship with your parents. You absolutely adore them and the team. They are your family. 

Speaking of family, they’re all sat in the common room talking about something you can’t quite hear. Sam’s the first one to see you, smiling wildly he then looks confused. “What you doing here sugar mama”.

“Yeah thought you headed home”. Comes the voice of your red headed friend Natasha.

“Oh yeah um I walked in on Joe fucking Stacey in my bed so thought I’d come back here, didn’t want to disturb their romp”. You say it like it’s nothing, and if you’re completely honest it’s true. It doesn’t bother you that your boyfriend is sleeping with your best friend.

It’s not the first time he cheated, it happened once and he told you afterwards apparently the guilt got to him. That was a lie, the other woman found out about you so she blackmailed him to tell you. Ever the fool you forgave him he promised not to do it again. You found out about him and Stacey two months ago when Stacey gave you her phone to look through a photo of you two and that’s when you found the videos of them going at it. Then that night whilst he was passed out next to you, you went through his phone to look at his messages between them, they’d been sleeping together for 3 months, he needed his needs to be met and ever the desperate mess she is she let herself be the other woman. You had been busy everyday with the team rebuilding the tower after the latest attack so naturally sex was the last thing on your mind. At first it hurt because she’s been your friend since you were little and you were very much in love with him but now you find it funny. Funny because she told you three months ago she had STDs. He obviously doesn’t know. And that’s why it’s hilarious.

You tell your family this, they’re angry. But you told them you didn’t care anymore the only reason why you was still with him was because of the lease of your apartment. You told them that every time you saw him you wanted to laugh. And that it didn’t matter anyway as you was in love with someone else.

Tony being Tony had already got in touch with your apartment manager to get you off the lease then an hour later you’re back at your apartment with your family behind you. Walking in you see Stacey still there, she smiles at you but you don’t give the gesture back. “Hey boo I just got here wanted to see if you wanted to g-“ her sentence is cut off by Natasha slamming her into the wall. Nats never been a fan. Joe stands frozen looking confused as everyone starts packing your stuff for you, he pathetically attempts to talk to you but gets cut off by Buckys metal fist to his mouth. The team don’t even bat an eye to it but you’re slightly taken back by the punch.

“You ever go near her again or even look at her I will kill you. Try and talk to her I will kill you. Do you understand?” Bucky growls “do you understand”. He shakes Joe by his shirt.

“Yes yes I understand!” He then looks at you “baby what’s this about” he spits the blood out of his mouth.

You look around checking your stuff is gone before you step over to him and Bucky. “If I was you I’d get yourself checked, she’s riddled with stds” Nudging you head in the direction of your now ex best friend. “Oh also the moans she was letting out an hour ago was fake. Your little pecker isn’t great. Ok bye bye” You laugh as you hook your arm with Bucks left one and all of you take your leave. 

Later that night you’re on the rooftop admiring the view when you hear someone clearing their throat behind you. 

“Hey I didn’t mean to startle you” 

“You didn’t Buck” 

“So I um who’s the person you’re in love with?” 

“You” Why did you just admit that god damn it now he’s goin-

He kisses you. The kind of kiss that’s full of love and passion the kind that takes the wind out of you. “I’m in love with you too”. His voice is raspy before you can speak he’s talking again “will you go on a date with me?” You can’t vocalise your reply so you nod enthusiastically.

Tony finds you both the next morning curled up asleep on the couch, covering the two of you with a blanket he had in his hand he can’t help the smile on his face. 

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~