#go touch some grass get some fucking sense knocked into you

[steinwayandhissons]

why do i do this to myself every time (reading comments under am posts)

[ataliagold]

Knocking Me Out With Those American Thighs

For @astrangersummer week 1 prompt 'short shorts'. Title from Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (pre-relationship)

Rating: Teen (swearing)

W/C - 848

Tags: Post Season 4 Volume 2, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, flirting, Steve Harrington wears short shorts, summer, pool party, sun bathing, water balloons, Steve Harrington's thighs, Eddie Munson is suffering

Summary: Steve sunbathes in the tiniest shorts Hawkins has ever seen. Eddie tries and fails to keep his cool.

___

Eddie was suffering.

Not just from the heat of the midday sun baking him alive, or from the way his hair was practically glued to his sweat-slick neck.

No, the worst of his suffering was caused by Steve Harrington’s thighs.

They were going to kill him.

Eddie couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t, he just had to keep glancing over at where the other boy was lying in the grass, skin bare except for the tiniest pair of shorts Eddie had ever seen. They barely covered the top half of his thighs for fuck’s sake, what was even the point in them…

The guy’s naked chest and torso had already done a number on Eddie. But when Steve had laid down, stretched out to sunbathe in his backyard, those already-skimpy shorts had ridden up even higher, revealing a slightly paler strip of skin stretched tight over lean muscle and Eddie had had to sit on his damn hands to stop himself from reaching out and just touching…

A water balloon smacked into the side of Eddie’s face, momentarily dragging his attention away from Steve’s hairy thighs.

Luckily for Dustin, who was standing with his hands on his hips nearby and rolling his eyes at Eddie, the balloon hadn’t burst. If it had, Eddie might’ve strangled the kid himself.

“Hey, we said no water balloons near us!” Robin grumbled, sitting up to glare at the kid.

“I called your name three times,” Dustin complained to Eddie. “Not my fault you were too busy staring at Steve.”

Eddie’s eyes darted sideways, sensing movement from Steve. The boy cracked open an eye to give Eddie a brief glance, then closed it again, the tiniest smirk spreading across his face.

“I was not, you little shrimp,” Eddie snapped. “Now what do you want?”

“Come throw the rings into the pool for me? Lucas and Mike keep grabbing them before I can reach them, and I want to try and dive for them.”

Eddie snorted. “What are you, a fucking dolphin?”

“Language,” Steve mumbled lazily, not opening his eyes.

“Apologies, my liege, I’ll try to keep my language appropriate around your little charges.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie stood, wincing a little as he reached up to touch his rapidly reddening shoulders. Unlike Steve, he wasn’t gifted with a natural golden glow to his skin. He was pasty, usually sheet-white.

And now, he was steadily burning to a crisp.

Grumbling under his breath, Eddie stole one last look at the prone Steve, let his eyes run over his form for as long as he thought he could get away with. He could wax poetry about his thighs, about his torso, about the moles dotting his chest and stomach like constellations…

“Eddie?”

Fuck.

“Yeah, Steve?” His response came out as almost a squeak.

“You’re burnt. Once you’re finished entertaining Dustin, come back and get some sunblock on, I’ll help with your shoulders.”

Eddie swallowed thickly. Because that meant Steve would have his hands on him, all sun-warm as he spread sunblock across Eddie’s sensitive skin…

Steve opened his eyes then, rolling over to face Eddie and propping his head up on his hand with his elbow bent.

“And then after that, you can do my back.”

He fucking winked.

Eddie backpeddled, nodding quickly then turning around and doing his best to not trip over his feet as he scrambled after Dustin.

“Dude, you’re the least subtle person I’ve ever seen,” Dustin whispered to him as they walked towards the pool.

“Shut up.”

Eddie threw the rings half-heartedly into the pool, Dustin diving for them in a…not so impressive display of athleticism, but he would emerge eventually and toss the colourful rings back at Eddie, the other kids watching on.

As it tended to do, Eddie’s attention drifted back to Steve.

He was up now, chasing Robin around in the grass with the still-intact water balloon in hand. Robin was shrieking and trying to slap at him with her book, sunglasses flying from her hair. Steve hurled the water balloon, but it slapped against Robin’s back and plopped to the ground without breaking again.

Lightning quick, Robin picked it up and threw it hard back at Steve.

It smacked onto Steve’s chest and burst.

Eddie’s wide eyes drifted down.

Steve’s tiny shorts were now soaked, Robin doubled over with laughter as the water trickled down his torso and collected at the waistband.

Eddie’s gaze followed the path of water through Steve’s chest hair, down the soft planes of his stomach and small swell of his abdominal muscles, tracking past the healing scars on his sides…

When he looked up again, Steve’s eyes were on him.

Just as Eddie was trying to craft an excuse as to why he was openly ogling the guy again, Steve swiped the bottle of sunblock from the grass, holding it up with a little wiggle to Eddie, a slow grin spreading across his face.

Eddie dropped Dustin’s rings into the water without looking, ignoring the kid’s protests, and strode towards Steve.

The other boy’s smile spread wider, his eyes twinkling.

Eddie was fucked.

___

[ode2rin]

MAKE YOU MINE .ೃ

pairing. itoshi rin x gn!reader

genre. best friends to lovers | pining | light angst to fluff

content/warnings. 3.1k+ wc | reader is in a toxic relationship with their boyfriend (not rin lmao the bf is unnamed) | characters are aged up to 18 ! | blue lock happened much much later here | profanity | a bit heavy in narration | minimal proofread

in which: rin was never ready, so he watches you go with your boyfriend, wishfully thinking it was him instead.

💭 thank you for the request @/saetorinrin (unaffectionate)!

best friends are supposed to knock some sense into you, that's what they're for. 

fortunately for you, your best friend of twelve years, itoshi rin, has always been quite good at it. right now, you're hoping he'll at least be kind while doing so.

“i don't know why you keep on going back to him. he looks like a fucking bull reincarnate, and he treats you like what? yeah, like a pup he dogs around.” 

that’s wishful thinking, though. none of rin's words are known for their kindness.

you've known since a tender age of ten that both itoshi brothers have a knack for colorful insults — or rather, they insist it's a form of descriptive artistry. moments like these make you wish you could smack your younger self for befriending your teal-eyed neighbors. you really should have avoided them like the plague from the very first glare they shot your way.

if you did, you wouldn't find yourself sitting on a swing in the park near both of your houses, while rin spends the past few minutes expressing his displeasure about you getting back with your ex.

but what’s done is done. growing up with them wasn't all bad, except for that messy fiasco between sae and rin that left you caught in the middle, trying to mend their broken bond.

in the end, you chose rin’s side. for what reason? that's a reminiscence best saved for another day.

right now, your priority lies in letting rin hear a piece of your mind for his way of describing your ex — or boyfriend? actually, you're not sure anymore.

“you’re being mean, rin.”

“and you’re being stupid, y/n.”

“you won’t get it.”

“won’t get what? that you’re being treated like absolute shit?”

that’s it. he pushed enough buttons now. you stood up from the swing to face the 6-foot tall man in front of you. 

“you won't get it because you’ve never loved anyone before! and you sure as hell have never been fucking loved!”

rin, before this moment, was sure he's accustomed to pain. 

but now, he realized he wasn't.

realizing what you've just said to your best friend, your eyes widen, and you immediately reach out to touch his arm, frustration turning into regret. you didn't mean that — god, you really didn't.

“rin, i... i didn't mean—”

“save it.”

you were right about the latter. but the former? rin wants nothing but to let you know otherwise. if only you goddamn knew. but that's just it for rin too — wishful thinking.

because you're not done loving your boyfriend, and he knows he's merely using that as an excuse. if honesty were to intervene, he wouldn't be ready to let you know.

how many years does one need to be ready to confess to their best friend of more than a decade anyway? he doesn't want to find out.

rin heard your whispered apology, and his heart sank. he watched as you lowered your gaze to the grass beneath your feet, the weight of regret palpable in the air.

“come on, it’s getting dark. let’s go home,” he suggested, voice tinged with concern.

“actually, he’s picking me up here. mom knows already.”

of course. of course, he's picking you up blocks away from your house. is that how things work now? if it were up to rin, he'd personally ask your mom to take you out on a monday evening. you know, like a respectful person would do?

yet again. if it was him. another wishful thinking.

“where the hell is he, then? i am not leaving you here,” rin stated, his frustration once again seeping through his words.

“he's just a little late —”

“or ditching you again?” 

“rin, please. just leave. i don't want to start again,” you pleaded, the exhaustion evident in your voice.

“fine.”

every step rin took away from you felt like chains dragging along, pulling him back with reluctance and impending regret. but he knew he had to leave. 

he didn't have a place to stay here, not in this park, and certainly not in your heart.

it had been a week since you got back together with your ex, and in that time, rin hadn't uttered a single word to you. his silence was a constant presence, weighing heavily on the air between you. in the past, you found solace in his silence, finding comfort in the unspoken understanding that existed between you. but now, it felt suffocating, as if every attempt to say his name would only add to the tension.

you didn't blame rin for giving you the silent treatment. after all, the hurtful words you had spoken had cut deep.

rin had been harsh, yes, but you knew it came from a place of concern. he was your best friend, and looking out for each other was what you do. deep down, you couldn't deny that there was some truth in what he had said about your boyfriend. there had been moments when he treated you poorly, but that was normal, right? every relationship had its ups and downs, and this was just one of them. and perhaps, in rin's eyes, you were being stupid, but when weren't you, in his opinion?

still, you should have known better. you shouldn't have said what you did. not when you know yourself that he’s been loved. even if it was hidden and unspoken, it still counted, didn't it?

but despite the silent treatment, rin never failed to walk you home. even when he was wearing his sweaty jersey after a rigorous practice, he would be there outside your classroom, waiting for you. walking behind you, not saying a word, but his presence was felt. occasionally, he would walk beside you, especially when you were about to reach the busy side of the neighborhood.

every single day of the past week, he had walked you home.

and even back then starting from the days of school, rin never lets you walk alone in the dark.

today, however, you had to tell him that you wouldn't be walking with him. you had a date with your boyfriend, and he was waiting for you outside the school.

grabbing your bag and heading towards the door, you caught a glimpse of rin's duffel bag and his back. he was waiting for you again. rushing over to him, you spoke up.

“rin, i won’t be able to walk with you today. we’re going out. he’s waiting for me outside.”

rin simply looked at you, then nodded. he turned his back to you, but you could swear there was something he wanted to say.

that was the thing with itoshi rin. he never spoke when you needed him to.

rin was right. he had always been right. and you, well, you were just fucking stupid.

as you reminisced about the earlier screaming match with your now ex-boyfriend, tears threatened to well up in your eyes.

i’m such a fucking idiot.

you had known deep down that you had settled, but you never expected him to stoop so low. part of you wanted to say good riddance, but the truth was that time spent with a person would always leave a mark, whether you wanted it or not.

it was past 9 pm, and that prick had the audacity to drop you four blocks away from your own house. you wanted to scream at him, to demand basic human decency, to drop you off at your doorstep. but another part of you, fueled by the remnants of pride, refused to beg for the bare minimum again. so, despite your nervousness about walking alone in the dark, you slammed the car door in his face and decided to walk the rest of the way on your own.

it had only been five minutes of walking when you felt the first raindrops fall on your forehead. the realization of what was about to happen made you want to scream at whoever was watching from above. how dare they make you this unlucky?

great. just great.

the drizzle quickly escalated into a full-blown rain, showing no signs of stopping any time soon. a few blocks ahead, you spotted the park where you and rin used to hang out. 

even in your darkest times, he’s still in your mind. it’s funny as it is ironic.

if only you had stayed content with loving your best friend from afar, maybe you wouldn't be feeling this hurt, right? 

maybe you wouldn't have ended up looking for love in all the wrong places when the only place you truly wanted it to blossom had been right beside you all along.

exactly ten minutes before rin’s usual bedtime, his phone rang, your name shown on the screen. and for some reason, he could feel his heart leap out of his chest from how fast it was beating.

something was wrong.

without wasting a second, rin answered your call on the second ring.

“hello?” he said, anticipation heavy on his heart. he needed to hear your voice.

but anticipation was immediately replaced by seething anger and heightened worry as he heard your sniffs on the other end of the line.

“where are you?” 

“rin... i know you're mad at me, but i didn't know who else to call–”

“it's raining. where the hell are you?” rin's voice grew heavy with indescribable anger, each word dripping with his overwhelming emotions.

“he dropped me off near the school, but i'm here by the park now. i–”

"stay where you are. i'm coming. don't end the call. i need to know you're safe." or else i will fucking lose it. 

it’s these times that rin was glad he’s an athlete. within five minutes, he arrived at the park, his strides quick and determined. he would have reached you even faster if it weren't for the umbrella he was holding and the sound of your sniffs and sobs on the other end of the line, causing his heart to sink and his steps to falter.

he doesn't even let a goddamn mosquito come close to you, but that asshole had the audacity to make you cry? how dare he.

the rain had lessened compared to its earlier downpour, it was now more of a drizzle. but if you had been here before calling him, that meant you had been standing under the rain for almost an hour. with that realization, rin thinks your ex should watch his back from now on; he would never know when a ball might come flying straight at him — accidentally, of course.

as rin reached the park, his eyes scanned the area, searching desperately for you. and there, in one of the benches, he saw you. your head was tucked into your knees, one hand hugging them tightly while the other clutched the phone to your ear.

he swore, he fucking swore, he could feel his heart pounding in his throat at the sight of you.

ever since you entered rin's life, you taught him a lot of things. you taught him everything about how life was better when you had someone to lean on. 

but most of all, everything rin knew about love, he knew from you. 

and when he realized he loved you but couldn't let you know, the love he knew became intertwined with all the pain he learned.

this is hurting him. you, you were hurting him.

maybe you were right all along.

“you're right, y/n,” rin whispered into the phone, his voice barely audible as he stood a few feet away from you, the umbrella slipping from his grasp. he still had his phone pressed to his ear.

rin couldn't hear anything but the pounding of his own heartbeat and the soft pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the ground.

how many damn years does it take to work up the courage to spill your guts to your best friend of more than a decade? rin found out that sometimes, all it takes is one look at them in pain to make you throw caution to the wind. screw all the timing and planning.

“rin…” you called out, looking around to locate him.

locked in a gaze, time seemed to stand still as rin's eyes traced the contours of your face. your eyes, red-rimmed and soaked from the rain, revealed what you had endured. your drenched clothes and disheveled hair painted a picture of you running around in this rain. he couldn't help but think that you looked like a wounded soul, stripped of your own heart.

“you're right,” he repeated once more, and he was certain you could hear him, judging by the look of confusion on your face.

it wasn't a “now or never” moment for rin. 

it was a now or never love another soul ever again moment. because to rin, it will always be you and him in the end. and that’s no wishful thinking, but a promise he made to himself.

there will be no after you, but just you. that was it for itoshi rin. 

so he has to let you know. the hell with what happens next.

“about last week, you’re right about that. i would never get it,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “i would never get how someone could ever treat you this bad by someone who claims to love you. because i have loved you since we were kids, and i would rather die than leave you out here alone in the pouring rain.”

if this was what you called love, then maybe you taught him wrong. 

rin could see how your eyes widened at what he said. and right then and there, he prepared himself for the worst.

it’s happening.

rin ended the call. he couldn't bear to hear your immediate response, fearing the rejection he had long braced himself for. with the umbrella in hand, he made his way towards you, his eyes focused on the wet ground, avoiding direct contact with your gaze.

you can reject him later. he needs to get you home first.

“come on, let’s go,” was the only thing rin said. he placed the umbrella over your head, shielding you from the rain while he stood exposed, allowing the droplets to soak him further.

you gazed up at him, seeking his eyes, “can you look at me, rin?” 

and see the look of pity in your eyes? even at these moments, you’re cruel to him. 

“i don’t want to.”

undeterred, you persisted, “why?”

because i’m about to lose you.

“i made peace with it a long time ago,” rin admitted, “let's just go. you're going to get sick.”

“say it again.”

your gaze held unwavering, demanding more from him. there was a longing in your eyes, a hunger for honesty. you craved his words, his confession – you need rin to speak now or else you will never know peace.

“no.”

“then i’m not going anywhere. say it agai —”

“fine! i have loved you since we were kids and i have loved you ever since i'm yet to even know what it was i was feeling for you! now, please, let’s go!”

silence enveloped the park. but rin could hear his own heart beating in rhythm with the soft pitt patts of the rain.

this was it then? twelve damn years. all those years, now dissipating like raindrops lost in the drain.

the rain continued to pour, serving as a backdrop to the delicate dance of emotions unfolding between you. each droplet seemed to echo the passage of time, washing away the years of looking at you in a lovelorn gaze.

rin knew where this was headed. he may not have watched many romance movies, but confessions like these – he had seen them before. this was yet another addition to the countless stories of shattered dreams lost to the rain.

but then as fate would have it, it will always intervene.

and so, as if a radiant sun had broken through the stormy clouds, a smile bloomed on your face, casting away the shadows of doubt in rin's mind.

“i’ve been waiting for those words my whole life, itoshi rin.”

rainbows really do appear after the pouring rain.

but only for a fleeting grace of moment in the sky.

“but i can’t, rin. not now. i’m too hurt to love you freely.”

the confession escaped your lips, heavy with the weight of past heartbreak and lingering pain. and to rin, it felt as if the rainbows had faded, leaving behind a somber reminder of the scars etched deep within.

it would be a lie not to admit that he was disheartened, but nonetheless, rin understood. 

but rin was no saint; he can be selfish. he wants to be selfish for you. so there he knelt, bringing himself eye to eye with you, his hands gently cupping your cheeks. 

“i’ll wait. i can wait,” it’s not a lie that the younger itoshi had a penchant for being selfish as he is selfless. 

but he has waited for you for as long as he has learned to kick a ball. so what's a little more?

“are you sure?” the question escaped your lips, a plea for reassurance.

if it means it’s you and him in the end after all, then he’s nothing but definite.

rin's hands on your cheeks tightened gently, his voice a gentle murmur that danced along the edges of your heart, “take all the time you need. by the time you're done, i'll make sure to make you mine.”

the raindrops, cascading around you like tears from the heavens, seemed to pause in reverence as rin's words hung in the air.

as the rain began to subside, rin leaned closer, his forehead gently pressing against yours. your eyes closed, feeling his breath mingling with yours, you hear him softly sighed against your lips.

“i’ll treat you so good, y/n. so good. fuck, you have no idea.”

sure, you’re the first person itoshi rin has ever loved. but he can show you. better than your shitty ex ever could.

if there’s anyone who can most definitely show you what love was truly like, it will be him.

for a few precious moments, time seemed to stand still as both of you remained in that intimate embrace, rin's hands tenderly cradling your face, and your gaze locked in the depths of his teal eyes.

“let’s go home?” rin asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“only if you’ll walk with me.”

rin's lips curled into a small, affectionate smile at your hushed response. he reached out, extending his hand toward you, a silent invitation. “i've been doing that for the past years.”

and he’ll continue to do it. 

few years from now, he will make sure he’s the man you’re walking with. be that on the way home, or down the aisle.

because to itoshi rin, it will always be you and him.

note. no thoughts, just pure vibes here. just kidding! here's the first request in my milestone event, and i enjoyed writing this despite it being shitty as an outcome. thanks for reaching this far!

💭 back to: milestone event

[bingbongsupremacy]

Knock knock Pt. 1

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Reader

Warnings: Use of pet name 'baby' and nick names.

Summary: A simple request to turn the music down turns into a frustrating back and forth battle. Why does your neighbor have to be so damn attractive?

This fic does not mention anything about the way the readers' body is shaped, their weight, their height, etc. If I happened to miss something or accidentally described the readers' appearance anywhere, please let me know so I can fix it.

*Not Proof Read*

ABC List TLOU Master list

*****

" Fucking hell. " I groan angrily, smashing my pillow over my ears. Why can't they just shut the fuck up?

Why the fuck did I decide to move into frat row? Every building that isn't a frat is a party house.

Deciding enough is enough, I force myself out of my bed. I make my way to the living room where my roommates are all gathered.

" Did they wake you up too? " Dina asks with a yawn, rubbing her temples.

" Who didn't they wake up? The entirety of Jackson has to have heard them by now. " I mutter, pulling on my coat.

" Where are you going? " Abby asks.

" To tell them to shut the fuck up. Some of us actually needs sleep to survive. " Usually I'm fine with parties. It's college, I've gone to some and I probably will go to more in the future. The problem is, our new neighbors just never seem to shut up.

I make my way across the lawn, sleep slippers squelching in the damp grass. Ignoring the way water is slightly seeping into my shoes, I step around a passed out frat boy.

Empty and nearly empty bottles of booze and other unidentified objects litter the porch. I loudly knock on the door. Within a few minutes the door is opened by a giggly girl. Her half lidded eyes scan my body, a grin sprawled across her sweaty face. " Hey, you here to party? " She asks, her words slurred badly.

" No. I want to see whoever's in charge here. "

" That would be Ellie. "

Of course it's Ellie Williams. The campus' infamous dealer and partier. I had no idea she moved in here. The last time I had to deal with her was in my history class last year. Absolute hell. I got paired up with her for an assignment and ended up doing majority of the work while she spent her time at a local bar, hooking up with the bartenders.

The girl slightly sways to the music, her mind trailing away from our conversation.

She's not going to help me. She doesn't look far from a blackout.

Deciding to take things into my own hands, I push past the girl to get into the house.

" Hey! " She squeaks, trying to balance herself.

The pungent smell of weed and alcohol fills my nostrils. Clothes and red solo cups litter the ground and staircase. I step over a nasty looking puddle, trying to locate Ellie.

" Where's Ellie Williams? " I ask a group of stoners sitting around a cluttered coffee table.

A guy with dark hair looks up from the joint he's rolling. " Who's asking? "

" Me, the fucking person who lives next door. Where is Ellie? " My frustration grows. Along with not being able to sleep well the past few days, I'm overly stressed with some upcoming tests. I can't deal with this right now.

The guy, obviously sensing my pissed off attitude, nods down the basement. " Down there. She might be with a girl. "

I push past a couple grinding in front of the basement door, trying not to touch anything. I'm pretty confident this place hasn't been cleaned in a while and I don't doubt there's some new species growing around here. I'm pretty sure I saw a condom on the TV stand.

The basement is dark, the only light coming from a couple of string lights that are hugging the ceiling. Loud, muffled music bounces off the walls. Immediately I feel slightly better at the lack of people.

The room is fairly clean except for a small pile of clothes near what I'm guessing is the closet. It looks more like a bedroom than a basement.

On the bed I spot a familiar pair of converse shoes. Straddling her is a long haired red head, who's only in her bra. She lets out a small moan, neither of them realizing I'm here.

" Ellie. " I spit, standing at the base of the stairs. I cross my arms, glaring at the pair.

The girl on top jumps from surprise, pulling away from Ellie. She looks back at me, her lipstick and her mascara are both badly smudged.

Ellie's head pokes out from behind the girls' body. Frustration is clear in her expression. " What the fuck do you want? "

" I want you to shut the fucking party down. It's 3 in the morning. Some of us, who actually give a fuck about their future, have to go to class in the morning. "

" I'm gonna go... " The red head gets off of Ellie's hips. She quickly gathers her clothes. " Later, Ellie. "

" Wait you don't need to- " Ellie trails off into a frustrated groan as the girl rushes upstairs. " Fuck! " She sits up, her eyes glaring at me.

I shift slightly, uncomfortable with the angry glare she's sending my way. I can't back down. I need my sleep and I'm going to get it.

" This has been going on for days. Can you please just shut off the music? Just until like...I don't know, tomorrow morning? "

Ellie rolls her eyes. She reaches towards her night stand, picking up a joint. She lights it up before finally responding. " Sounds like a major you problem. Besides, who the fuck throws a party in the middle of the day, cock blocker? " She smirks slightly at the nick name.

Anger courses through my veins. She's getting more and more on my nerves. " Can't you be a little considerate? You aren't the only fucking person who lives on this planet, in case you've magically forgotten. The world doesn't revolve around you. "

Ellie leans towards me slightly. " Oh really? " She asks in an obviously fake surprised tone. " That's news to me, baby. Look, if you want an invite next time, all you have to do is ask. " Ellie gets off of her bed, probably in effort to intimidate me.

She's hot.

Fuck, I'm angry at her. I'm not supposed to be attracted to her.

But the way her tank top hugs her body...The strands of hair framing her face...No. I'm angry. Stop fucking eyeing her.

" You're an asshole. " I shake my head, crossing my arms. I force my gaze away from the woman in effort to stop the flock of butterflies in my stomach. " If you don't do something about the music, I will. "

Ellie chuckles. She steps towards me, only stopping inches away from me. She leans towards me. " You know, you're pretty hot when you're angry. " She whispers into my ear. Her hot breath fans over skin, sending shivers down my spine.

I take a step away from her. I don't like the way she makes me feel. " I guess I'm going to have to do something than. "

Without looking at her again, I hurry up the basement steps. I make my way over to the blasting speakers. My body seems to vibrate with every step towards the speaker I take. How has someone not broken an eardrum yet?

I yank out the cords connecting the speakers and suddenly the house is quiet. People around me stare in surprise.

Ellie pushes past the same couple I had to pass to get into the basement. " What the fuck are you doing? " She asks, clearly pissed.

" I asked you multiple times to turn off the music. Since you didn't do anything, I did. " I toss the cords onto the ground. " Keep it off or I swear to god I'll call the cops. "

I'm not narc but at this point, I'm on the verge of losing my mind.

" Fine. " Ellie says, making me double take. " We'll keep it off. "

" Thank you. " A small breath of relief slips through my lips. I make my way towards the front door, passing Ellie on the way. Before I leave, I look back at the girl.

Something about her expression sprouts a seed of uncertainty in my stomach.

" Good night, CB. " She smirks slightly while following me to the door.

" Good night, Ellie. "

She closes the door behind me, leaving me in the quiet outside. I don't know what she has up her sleeve, but I know she's up to something.

I make my way back to my shared house. My roommates thank me for dealing with the neighbors before we all hurry back to our bedrooms.

I lay down in my sheets, closing my eyes. I feel my eyes grow heavy.

Maybe I was wrong? Maybe she really is going to let us sleep tonight.

A loud muffled guitar solo breaks through the silence. The few moments of quiet are quickly replaced with the sound of blaring music.

My eyes fly open. I throw off my blanket, storming towards my window. I peer over at Ellie's house. She's smugly standing on the lawn, smoking what's left of her joint.

Our eyes meet, sending anger through my body.

She slowly flips me off, laughing at something one of her friends near by says.

It's on.

I tear myself away from the window. I turn on my phone, dialing the three digits I really didn't want to dial tonight.

" 9-1-1, what is your emergency? "

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 All Wrapped Up

All Wrapped Up: When your date with Morpheus is cut short, you are left with his coat and your own thoughts… and a bleeding finger from where said coat bit you. You find out that Morpheus’ coat is very much alive as the rest of the realm.

Warnings: Morpheus’ Coat Fucks You (this is your only warning on how nasty this is), Explicit Language, Explicit Material.

To Note: AFAB!Reader x Morpheus’ Coat

Word Count: ~6.4k

You stroll through the shifting landscapes of the Dreaming, your boyfriend Morpheus by your side. The sky above you morphs from a star-studded abyss to a canvas of swirling pastels, the colors melting into each other like ice cream on a hot day. A soft breeze carries the scent of blooming nightshade and distant rain. Yet another perfect night to spend with your handsome and beautiful boyfriend.

"You know," you say, glancing at him, "this place could use more flowers."

Morpheus' lips twitch into a barely-there smile. "Flowers? Are there not flowers throughout my realm? What more do you wish for?"

"Gilbert is currently hoarding all the best ones" you huff out in half complaint. "I'm talking about everywhere else in the realm. The places that don't have his super awesomeness."

"And what do you propose I should add?" Morpheus asks, tilting his head to the side.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe some unique roses? Lilacs? Orchids even," you gesture vaguely, enjoying the way his eyes—currently a serene blue—catch the light. They glimmer so prettily with stars. "Fun and unique flowers that you would never see together. Tulips, birds of paradise, hydrangea…"

"Fun and unique flowers, you say?" Morpheus muses, his voice like a gentle hum in the background of a dream. He lifts a hand, and with a flick of his wrist, the ground around you begins to shift. Suddenly, the once bare earth is alive with a riot of colors. Roses in every hue imaginable bloom alongside lilacs, their delicate petals brushing against the striking shapes of orchids.

The air thickens with their fragrance, a heady blend that fills your senses and makes you feel dizzy with delight. You laugh, spinning around to take it all in. "See? This is what I'm talking about."

"Indeed," Morpheus replies, a trace of amusement in his voice. "Anything else you desire?"

Before you can respond, a loud caw breaks through the tranquility. You glance up to see Matthew the Raven circling overhead. "You two look like you're picking out wedding flowers," he comments, swooping down to land on Morpheus' shoulder.

"Do you have something to add, Matthew?" Morpheus asks, one eyebrow arched.

"Just that maybe you should throw in some dandelions," Matthew says, ruffling his feathers. "You know, for variety."

You chuckle, reaching out to scratch Matthew's head. "Dandelions? Really?"

"Hey, don't knock 'em till you've tried 'em," Matthew quips.

Morpheus waves his hand again and suddenly dandelions sprout amidst the more exotic blooms. Their cheerful yellow heads bob in the soft breeze, adding an unexpected touch of whimsy to the scene.

"I have to admit," you say, bending down to pluck one from the ground. "It does add something special."

The Dreaming reacts to every movement and word from Morpheus. The sky darkens slightly as if acknowledging his focus on this moment with you. The colors become more vivid, each petal and leaf shimmering as though made of dreams themselves.

You catch a hint of ozone in the air—like just before a thunderstorm—and it makes your skin tingle with anticipation. It's as if every sense is heightened here: the sound of distant waves crashing against unseen shores; the feeling of soft grass beneath your feet; the sight of flowers blooming in impossible combinations.

Morpheus watches you with those enigmatic eyes that seem to hold entire galaxies within them. "Anything else?" he asks softly.

"Hmm," you ponder aloud. "How about some bioluminescent fungi? Something that glows when it gets dark. Can't go wrong with a good mushroom."

Matthew caws approvingly. "Now that's an idea! Glowing mushrooms could make this place even more magical."

With another wave of Morpheus' hand, glowing fungi begin to appear among the flowers. They emit a soft light that bathes everything in an ethereal glow as twilight descends over the realm.

Morpheus pulls you closer, your body fitting perfectly against his chest. The feeling is almost overwhelming—his coat is soft and warm, like the comforting embrace of a dream you never want to wake from. You really didn't. His fingers trail down your back, sending pleasurable sensations up your spine.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" His voice is a low murmur in your ear, each word vibrating through you like the distant rumble of thunder.

You nod, drawing your fingers down the lapel of his coat. The fabric feels like velvet under your touch, and the galaxy within it seems to pulse with light and energy. There is even a humming vibration beneath your fingertips that almost echo the coats appreciation of your touch.

"Morpheus," you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.

Matthew flaps his wings in agitation from his perch on Morpheus' shoulder. "Come on, guys. Do we have to do this right here?"

Ignoring Matthew's protest, you let your fingers wander further down Morpheus' coat. Each touch ignites a spark of passion that crackles between you both. His grip on you tightens slightly, as if he can't bear to let you go.

"If he does not wish to witness me kissing my beloved," Morpheus says, his eyes darkening with intensity as they lock onto yours, "Matthew is welcome to leave."

The raven lets out an indignant squawk but takes flight, disappearing into the shifting sky of the Dreaming.

He lowers his head slowly, giving you just enough time to close your eyes before his lips meet yours. The kiss is gentle at first, a mere brush of lips that sends a rush of warmth through you. But then it deepens, becoming more insistent as he pours all his longing and desire into that single point of contact.

The sounds around you seem to amplify—the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the distant roll of thunder, even the faint hum of bioluminescent fungi glowing softly in the growing twilight. It's as if every element in the Dreaming is attuned to this moment, enhancing every sensation.

Your hand slides up into his hair, feeling its softness between your fingers. You press yourself closer against him until there's no space left between you. His arms wrap around you tighter still as if he could pull you into himself completely.

As you lose yourself in the kiss, your hand continues its journey down Morpheus' coat, the fabric smooth and cool against your fingertips. You can feel the coat almost react to your touch, a subtle vibration that seems to echo Morpheus' own desires.

Your fingers brush against the edge of one of his coat pockets, and without thinking, you slip your hand inside. The interior is surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to the outer fabric. But then, something sharp bites into your finger. You pull back abruptly, breaking the kiss with a gasp.

Morpheus' eyes snap open, darkening from their serene blue to a concerned silver. "What is wrong?" His voice is soft but filled with an urgency that sends a shiver down your spine.

You blink in confusion, glancing down at your finger. A drop of blood wells up from a tiny puncture wound, bright red against your pale skin. "I... I think something bit me," you stammer.

Morpheus frowns deeply. He takes your hand gently in his own, lifting it to inspect the wound. His eyes narrow slightly as he studies the small drop of blood. Without warning, he brings your finger up to his lips and slides it into his mouth.

The sensation is electric. His lips are warm and soft against your skin, his tongue soothing as it laps at the wound. You shiver as Morpheus' tongue glides over your finger, each lap sending a tingling sensation straight to your core. The warmth of his lips contrasts sharply with the cool evening air, creating an intoxicating mix of sensations that makes it hard to focus. His eyes, now a deep, mesmerizing silver, lock onto yours, and you feel the world around you blur into insignificance.

The faint taste of iron lingers as he continues to lick the small wound, his movements slow and deliberate. It's almost as if he's savoring every drop of your blood. You can hear the soft sound of his tongue against your skin, a rhythmic, almost hypnotic noise that seems to echo in the stillness of the Dreaming.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally releases your finger. The wound is gone, not even a scar remaining. You flex your hand experimentally, marveling at the seamless healing.

"That was... weird," you murmur, pulling your hand back.

Morpheus' lips curve into a slight smile. "My apologies if it caused you discomfort."

You shake your head, brushing it off. "No, it's fine. Just unexpected."

He straightens, his expression shifting from concern to something more reserved. "I must return to my duties," he says softly.

Your heart sinks at his words. The thought of him leaving, even for a short while, fills you with a sense of loss. "Already?" you pout, unable to hide your disappointment.

Morpheus chuckles, a sound like distant thunder rolling through the night sky. He reaches up and slips off his coat, the fabric whispering against itself as it moves. The galaxy within it seems to pulse with life as he drapes it around your shoulders.

The coat envelops you in warmth and comfort; it’s like being wrapped in the night sky itself. Well, you are wrapped up in a galaxy.

"Wear this," Morpheus murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "So I will be with you until I physically return."

You snuggle into the coat's embrace, feeling its gentle hum against your skin—a soft vibration that echoes Morpheus' own being. The fabric is impossibly soft, caressing your body like he truly is wrapped around you.

He cups your cheek with one hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I will not be long," he promises.

You watch as Morpheus disappears into the ever-shifting landscape of the Dreaming, his silhouette blending seamlessly with the twilight. The weight of his coat around your shoulders is comforting, like an embrace that lingers long after the person has left. With a deep breath, you turn and begin to make your way back to the palace.

The path ahead winds through a forest of bioluminescent trees. Their leaves emit a soft, otherworldly glow that illuminates your way. The air is filled with the faint rustling of leaves and the occasional distant call of nocturnal creatures. As you walk, the sound of your footsteps mingles with these ambient noises, creating a symphony that feels uniquely alive.

The palace looms ahead, its grand spires reaching up to touch the star-studded sky. The entrance is guarded by three majestic creatures—a Gryphon, a Wyvern, and a Hippogryph—each one regal and imposing in its own right. They nod at you as you pass through the gates, acknowledging your presence with silent respect.

Inside, the palace is a labyrinth of corridors and rooms, each one more fascinating than the last. You wander aimlessly, letting your feet guide you. The walls are adorned with intricate tapestries that seem to move and change as you look at them, depicting scenes from countless dreams and nightmares. It was hard to be bored in the dreaming, but you really just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend!

You make your way through the winding corridors of the palace, each step echoing softly against the marble floors. The air is cool, almost refreshing, carrying with it the faint scent of night-blooming jasmine. The palace itself seems to breathe around you, walls shifting subtly as if alive.

Finally, you arrive at Morpheus' private chamber. The door creaks open with a whisper, revealing a room that feels both infinite and intimate. Soft starlight filters in from the high windows, casting gentle shadows across the floor.

Stars float lazily in the air, tiny orbs of light that shimmer and pulse as if they hold entire galaxies within them. You reach out to touch one, and it flutters away like a shy firefly before coming back to hover just above your fingertips. Its light is warm against your skin, sending tingles up your arm.

You wander around the room, brushing your fingers against the floating stars. Each one responds to your touch with a soft hum, a melody that seems to vibrate through your very being. It's like touching pieces of Morpheus himself—fragments of his essence scattered throughout his sanctuary.

As you explore, your gaze drifts down to the coat pocket where something had bitten you earlier. The memory of that sharp pinch makes you pause. Curiosity gnaws at you as you slip your hand back into the pocket cautiously this time, but all you feel is the warm, velvety lining.

"At least I have you to cuddle with," you murmur to yourself, a small smile playing on your lips. "Morpheus' coat is better than no Morpheus at all."

A warmth spreads through your body and you snuggle your face into the neckline of the material, enjoying the way the galaxy feels against your skin. You make your way over to Morpheus' bed and climb onto it, sighing as your hands and knees sink into the cloud like mattress.

The scent of Morpheus lingers on the sheets—a mix of stardust and midnight air that fills your senses and makes you feel even closer to him. You curl up in his coat, pulling it tightly around yourself as you nestle into the soft bedding. A nap would do nicely until Morpheus returns.

You wake with a start, the sensation of fabric skimming across your skin pulling you from the depths of sleep. Your eyes flutter open, and you find yourself staring up at the shifting, pulsating galaxy that adorns Morpheus' coat. It's draped over you like a protective cocoon, its warmth seeping into your very bones. But something is different this time.

The coat is moving, its fabric undulating with a life of its own. You gasp as it begins to slip beneath your clothing, the smooth, velvety material gliding effortlessly over your skin. The sensation is both startling and arousing, each touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you.

Your shirt is the first to go, the coat's sleeves tugging at the hem until it's lifted over your head and discarded. You try to sit up, to grasp at the fabric and halt its progress, but it's as if the coat anticipates your every move. It wraps around your arms, pinning them to your sides with a gentle but unyielding pressure.

"Hey!" you protest, a mixture of amusement and alarm in your voice. "What do you think you're doing?"

The coat doesn't answer, of course. Instead, it continues its slow, sensual exploration of your body. You can feel it tracing the contours of your chest, the touch as intimate as a lover's caress. The fabric seems to have grown impossibly softer, its movements deliberate and teasing.

Your breath hitches as it trails lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. The sensation is maddeningly erotic, a blend of ticklish delight and mounting desire. You squirm, trying to escape the coat's insistent advance, but it only tightens its grip on your legs, preventing any chance of retreat.

"First you bite me, and now you want me naked?" you murmur, the words coming out in a breathless whisper. The coat, of course, offers no response, save for the continued slide of fabric against your skin. "I don't think so!"

You thrash against the coat's hold, your heart pounding as the fabric tightens around you, holding you fast. It's an odd sensation, the feeling of being trapped yet cared for, dominated yet cherished. Despite your initial protests, there's a part of you that's intrigued, a small voice whispering that you should surrender to the coat's desires.

With surprising gentleness, the coat lifts you off the bed, suspending you in midair. You're aware of the cool air against your skin, the vulnerability of being so exposed. The coat's grip on you shifts, and you feel it deftly unhooking your bra. The fabric slides away, leaving your chest bare to the night air and the coat's lingering touch.

Your breath catches as you feel the coat's fabric against your nipples. It's a strange, intoxicating sensation that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. The coat caresses your breasts with an almost reverent touch, the fabric stroking and fondling with a lover's skill. You can't help the soft moan that escapes your lips, the sound echoing through the silent room.

The coat's attentions shift lower, and you feel it tugging at your pants. You're powerless to resist as the fabric peels away, leaving you clad in nothing but your underwear. The cool air teases your newly bared skin, and you can feel your arousal growing with each passing second.

As the coat continues to caress your breasts, you can't help but think that it's savoring this moment, relishing the feel of your soft, yielding flesh beneath its touch. The fabric moves with purpose, each stroke and caress sending shivers of pleasure up your spine.

Then, without warning, the coat vibrates against your skin, a subtle but unmistakable affirmation. It's almost as if it's communicating with you, confirming your suspicion that it wants—needs—this connection just as much as you do.

The vibrations are maddening, a constant, thrumming reminder of the coat's desire. You can feel it resonate deep within you, stoking the flames of your arousal even higher. The sound of your own breathing fills the room—harsh, ragged gasps that mirror the intensity of the sensations coursing through you.

Your body responds to the coat's ministrations with an urgency that's both startling and undeniable. You can feel yourself growing wetter, your underwear clinging to your damp skin. The coat's fabric teases your sensitive nipples, each brush sending jolts of pleasure straight to your cunt.

You're lost in a sea of sensation, your body moving instinctively to meet the coat's touch. The fabric strokes and fondles your breasts, the movements deliberate and maddeningly skillful. You can feel your arousal building, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to sweep you away.

The coat's vibrations grow stronger, more insistent, as if it can sense how close you are to the edge. The sensation is overwhelming, a constant thrum of pleasure that leaves you gasping for breath. You're aware of the wetness between your legs, the slick, aching need that demands fulfillment.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, the coat's touch becomes impossibly gentle, a soft caress that brings you back from the brink. You're left hovering on the edge of climax, your body trembling with need as the coat holds you suspended in midair, caught between ecstasy and anticipation.

"Oh come on," you whine, tugging on the fabric holding your wrists. "Don't tell me you're gonna tease me too! Morpheus is already a bastard when it comes to teasing, I don't need both of you being mean to me!"

In response to your plea, the coat seems to hesitate for a moment, as if considering your words. Then, with a newfound determination, it resumes its careful exploration of your body. You feel the fabric gliding over your hips, dipping into the crease where your thighs meet your body, and then it's slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. The sensation of the fabric against your most intimate area is surprisingly erotic, and you can't help but moan as it begins to move with purpose.

The coat tugs gently at your underwear, peeling it away from your damp skin. You feel a rush of cool air against your wetness, a stark contrast to the warmth of the coat's embrace. The fabric slides down your legs, leaving you completely naked and exposed in the coat's grasp.

You're lifted higher, your body suspended in midair as the coat positions you for its next tantalizing move. The sensation of weightlessness adds to the surrealism of the moment, amplifying the erotic sensations that course through you.

Then, without warning, the coat begins to rub between your legs, the fabric soft and insistent against your sensitive flesh. You gasp as it finds your clit, the rhythmic motion sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. The vibrations grow stronger, the coat's purring growing louder as it busies itself with your wetness.

The sound of your arousal fills the room, a slick, wet noise that mingles with the coat's purring. You can hear the soft rustle of fabric as it moves against your skin, the subtle whisper of the galaxy that forms the coat's lining. It's a symphony of sensations, a cacophony of sound that threatens to overwhelm your senses.

The coat's movements grow more insistent, the fabric rubbing against your clit with a maddening rhythm that leaves you gasping for breath. You can feel the orgasm building within you, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to sweep you away.

Your body responds instinctively to the coat's touch, your hips moving in time with its rhythmic motions. The sensation of the fabric against your most sensitive area is exquisite, a blend of friction and warmth that sends shivers of pleasure coursing through you.

The coat's purring grows even louder, a constant thrum of pleasure that resonates deep within your core. You can feel your arousal growing with each passing second, your body tensing as the orgasm draws nearer.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, the coat's touch changes. The fabric between your legs begins to pulse, the rhythm matching the beating of your heart. It's as if the coat knows exactly what you need, exactly how to push you over the edge.

The sensory overload is too much to bear. Your body tenses, and then you're falling, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of overwhelming pleasure. Your cries echo through the room, a testament to the ecstasy that courses through your veins.

As the waves of your climax wash over you, your body convulses with the intensity of the sensations. Your legs are thrashing, feet twisting in the air as they seek purchase on something—anything—to ground you in this moment of pure ecstasy. Your arms pull against the coat's embrace, the fabric tightening around your wrists in response to your struggles, holding you fast as it continues to lavish attention upon your trembling form.

The coat, sentient and eager, is greedily drinking up your release, its fabric writhing and pulsing against your most intimate areas. Each spasm of your cunt sends shockwaves of pleasure through you, and the coat seems to absorb every tremor, its vibrations harmonizing with the rhythm of your orgasm.

You're acutely aware of the erotic sensory details—the wet, slick sound of the coat moving against your drenched folds, the way your breath hitches with each wave of pleasure that crashes over you, the feeling of the cool air against your heated skin. The coat's fabric is like a thousand tiny fingers, each one caressing and teasing and coaxing you towards greater heights of pleasure.

The erotic sounds that fill the room are almost as stimulating as the physical sensations. The wet squelch of the coat's ministrations, the ragged panting of your breaths, the soft whimpers and moans that escape your lips—all of it combines to create a symphony of desire that resonates with the pulsing of your blood.

"Oh god," you strain out, your body falling slack. That was an incredibly explosive orgasm. All from the coat. The coat, however, seems far from finished.

Its fabric begins to move again, slithering down your stomach in a series of slow, deliberate waves. You can't help but squirm as it traces teasing patterns on your skin, each touch sending little shivers of sensation coursing through you. The coat purrs in response.

You can feel it trailing along the insides of your legs, a soft, ticklish touch that leaves you gasping for breath once more. The coat's purring grows louder, a constant thrum of pleasure that seems to echo your own rapidly beating heart. Always thirsty it seems.

As your breathing begins to steady, the coat's fabric continues its unhurried exploration of your body. It caresses your thighs, your stomach, the soft swell of your breasts. Each touch sends ripples of pleasure coursing through you, a reminder that the coat is far from done with you.

You feel the fabric shift, a subtle movement that draws your attention back to the apex of your thighs. The coat's touch is gentle yet insistent, its fabric teasing your sensitive folds with feather-light strokes. You can't help but moan, your body responding instinctively to the promise of more pleasure to come.

But then the fabric between your legs begins to change, to grow and harden into something entirely different. You gasp as you feel the unmistakable shape of a phallus emerging from the coat's inner lining, its size and girth enough to make you catch your breath.

"Wait," you protest, your voice barely above a whisper. "That place is for Morpheus."

The coat seems to hesitate for a moment, its fabric pulsing against your skin. And then, with a sense of inevitability, the phallus continues to grow, its length pressing against your entrance with an insistence that leaves you both exasperated and intrigued.

"You've got to be kidding me," you mutter, a flush creeping up your cheeks. "First you strip me, then you make me come, and now you want to fuck me? You're a coat, for crying out loud!"

In response, the coat vibrates, a low, rumbling purr that vibrates all the way through your cunt. It's almost as if it's chuckling at your incredulity, its fabric shifting against your skin with a maddeningly sensual rhythm.

The phallus nudges at your opening, the blunt tip slick with your own arousal. You can feel it teasing you, pressing just slightly into your warmth before withdrawing once more. The sensation is both startling and arousing, a tantalizing promise of what's to come.

You're aware of the erotic sounds that fill the room—the wet, slick noise of the coat's phallus moving against your drenched folds, the soft, needy whimpers that escape your lips with each teasing stroke. You hate how delicious the sounds are. The coat purrs in response, the vibrations adding another layer of pleasure to the sensory overload.

The phallus nudges at your entrance once more, and this time, it doesn't withdraw. You feel yourself stretching to accommodate its girth, your body yielding to the coat's insistent advance. The sensation is intense, a mix of pleasure and a slight sting that leaves you gasping for breath.

"Oh," you gasp out, your hips twitching and your pelvis muscles twitching from the stretch.

As the coat's phallus begins its slow, inexorable push into your body, you can't help but gasp at the sensation. It's thick and warm, a solid presence that fills you in a way you've never experienced before. Almost tentacle like, worming around against your clenching walls. The fabric of the coat's inner lining is soft against your sensitive skin, a stark contrast to the firmness of the phallus that's currently buried inside you.

You arch your back, a soft moan escaping your lips as the phallus continues its exploration. It seems to be searching for something, its movements deliberate and unhurried. Each slight shift sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, the sensation both startling and intensely arousing.

The erotic sounds of your coupling fills the room once more—the wet, slick noise of the coat's phallus moving inside you, the soft, needy whimpers that escape your lips with each thrust. You can feel the coat purring in response to your sounds of pleasure, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation to the mix.

You're acutely aware of the erotic sensory details—the feeling of the coat's fabric against your skin, the warmth of its body as it holds you close, the scent of your arousal mingling with the musty aroma of the coat's inner lining. It's an intoxicating blend that only serves to heighten your pleasure.

The phallus inside you seems to be growing larger, its girth stretching you in the most delicious way. You can feel it pressing against your vaginal walls, each movement sending ripples of pleasure radiating through your body. The sensation is overwhelming, a constant thrum of pleasure that leaves you gasping for breath.

Your heart pounds in your chest, the rush of blood a rhythmic counterpoint to the thrum of the coat's purring. Each pulse of your heart sends a fresh surge of arousal coursing through your veins, making your skin flush and your breath come in short, sharp gasps. You're so attuned to the sensations that every twitch and shudder reverberates through you, a testament to the coat's mastery over your body.

And then, just when you think you can't possibly get any more aroused, the coat's phallus reaches a depth within you that makes your breath catch in your throat. You feel it probing against your cervix, a gentle nudge that sends a jolt of sensation straight to your core. Your eyes widen, and a startled gasp escapes your lips. "N-no," you stammer, your voice tremulous with a mix of desire and trepidation. "No. That place is for babies, not...not this."

In response, the coat's phallus vibrates, a low, rumbling sensation that reverberates deep within your belly. It's an acknowledgment, a silent affirmation of your boundaries, and the phallus withdraws slightly, avoiding the no-go zone with newfound respect. The change in sensation makes you gasp, and your hips jerk in response, the movement involuntary and desperate.

The vibrations increase in intensity, the coat's phallus humming with a steady rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel your body clenching around the thick intrusion, your muscles fluttering in time with the coat's purring. Your toes curl, and a series of soft, needy whimpers escape your lips, the erotic sounds mingling with the wet squelch of the coat's ministrations.

As the coat's phallus begins to move within you, your body responds with a rush of moisture, welcoming the thick intrusion with a slick warmth that makes each thrust an exercise in erotic sensation. The fabric inside you is velvety soft, yet unyielding, each stroke a delicious friction that stokes the fires of your arousal. The coat's movements are deliberate and measured, a slow, steady fucking that leaves you gasping for breath as it claims your body as its own.

The slithering galaxy that lines the coat's interior wraps gently around your throat, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. It tightens slowly, a sexual choking that sends a thrill of fear and arousal coursing through you. Your eyes widen, and a gasp is torn from your lips as the fabric restricts your airway just enough to heighten your senses without causing harm. The loss of control, the helplessness of your position, only serves to intensify the pleasure that's building within you.

Your body clenches around the coat's phallus, your inner walls fluttering in time with the rhythmic tightening of the fabric around your throat. The dual sensations are overwhelming, a blend of pleasure and pain that leaves you writhing in the coat's embrace. You can feel your orgasm building, a slow, inexorable tide that threatens to sweep you away.

The room fills with dizzying and erotic sounds—the wet, slick noise of the coat's phallus moving inside you, the soft, needy whimpers that escape your lips with each thrust, the subtle rasp of fabric against your throat as you struggle to breathe. The coat's purring grows louder, a constant thrum of pleasure that seems to echo your own rapidly beating heart.

You're acutely aware of the sensory details—the feeling of the coat's fabric against your skin, the warmth of its body as it holds you aloft, the scent of your arousal mingling with the musky aroma of the coat's inner lining. It's an intoxicating blend that only serves to heighten your pleasure.

The phallus inside you seems to grow even larger, its girth stretching you to your limits as it plunges into your depths. You can feel it pressing against your g-spot, each movement sending jolts of sensation straight to your core. Your toes curl, and a series of soft, needy whimpers escape your lips, the erotic sounds mingling with the wet squelch of the coat's ministrations.

As the coat continues to fuck you, the fabric around your throat pulses in time with the thrusts, a rhythmic pressure that sends you spiraling towards the edge of ecstasy. Your vision begins to blur, stars dancing at the edges of your sight as the combination of sensory overload and restricted airflow push you closer to the brink.

Your body tenses, and then you're falling, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of overwhelming pleasure. Your cries echo through the room, a testament to the ecstasy that courses through your veins. The coat's phallus pulses within you, drawing out your climax until you're left a quivering, gasping mess in its grasp.

As the waves of your orgasm begin to recede, the coat gently releases its hold on your throat, allowing you to draw in a deep, shuddering breath. The phallus inside you softens, retreating back into the fabric of the coat's inner lining.

The aftershocks of your orgasm softly ripple through you and the coat's fabric shifts, its touch changing from demanding to soothing in an instant. You feel its fabric stroking your body, a gentle caress that traces the contours of your skin with a lover's precision. The sensation is both comforting and arousing, a reminder of the pleasure it's capable of bestowing upon you. So much better than it biting you.

"Can we cuddle now?" you mumble, your voice soft and sated. The coat seems to understand, its fabric tightening around you in a warm, comforting embrace. It lowers your body back to the bed as if you were the most precious thing in the realm.

You snuggle against the coat, your fingers gripping the lapels while your body still trembles from the intensity of your release. The scent of your arousal is heavy in the air, a musky aroma that mingles with the musty scent of the coat's inner lining. You can feel your juices leaking from your body, a slow, sticky trickle that slides down your inner thighs. Another mess you were going to have to clean up.

The coat, ever eager, seems unabashed by your wetness. Its fabric shifts between your legs, the tip of its phallus emerging once more to lap at the moisture that pools at your entrance like an eager tongue. The sensation is startling, a cool, wet touch that sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

Your heart pounds against your ribcage like a caged bird desperate for freedom, each beat a staccato reminder of the pleasure that still courses through your veins. You're breathless, your chest heaving with each ragged inhalation as you try to regain some semblance of control over your body. But the coat, it seems, has other plans. Greedy for your pleasure.

"I can't," you protest weakly, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm exhausted."

The coat ignores your plea, its fabric shifting against your skin with a maddeningly sensual rhythm.

The tongue laps at your entrance, slurping up the remnants of your orgasm with an eagerness that borders on voracious. You can't help but squirm as it traces teasing patterns on your skin, each touch sending little shivers of sensation coursing through you. The sound of the coat's ministrations fills the room—a wet, squelching noise that's almost as arousing as the physical sensations.

"Please," you beg, your voice trembling with a mix of desire and trepidation. "It's too much."

But the coat is relentless, its tongue delving deeper into your folds with each passing moment. You feel yourself stretching once again to accommodate its girth, your body yielding to the coat's insistent advance. The sensation is intense, a mix of pleasure and a slight sting that leaves you gasping for breath.

You roll and writhe on the bed, your body twisting and turning in a futile attempt to escape the overwhelming sensations. The coat's fabric tightens around you, holding you aloft as it continues its erotic assault. You're trapped, completely at the mercy of the sentient garment that seems intent on wringing every last ounce of pleasure from your exhausted body.

"Stop," you plead, your voice breaking on the word. "I can't take any more."

The coat, however, seems determined to prove you wrong. It knows you, knows your limits. Its tongue plunges into your depths, pressing against your g-spot with a precision that only serves to heighten your arousal. You can feel your body clenching around the thick intrusion, your muscles fluttering in time with the rhythmic thrusts.

Your fingers grasp at the sheets beneath you, clenching as your makes rake against the soft fabric. You can feel the coat purring in response to your sounds of pleasure and writhes of ecstasy, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation to the mix.

Your body tenses, and then you're falling, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of overwhelming pleasure. Your cries echo through the room, a testament to the ecstasy that courses through your veins. The coat's tongue pulses within you, drawing out your climax until you're left a quivering, gasping mess in its grasp.

As the waves of your orgasm begin to recede, the coat gently releases its hold on you. Exhausted and sated, you collapse onto the bed, your body still trembling from the intensity of your release. The sound of your ragged breathing fills the room, a stark contrast to the silence that follows.

And then, just as you're on the brink of unconsciousness, you feel the coat's fabric shift against your skin one last time. It wraps itself around you in a warm, comforting embrace, a silent promise of protection and care. You snuggle against the coat, your fingers clutching at the fabric as sleep claims you at last. About fucking time.

The last thing you hear before darkness takes you is the soft, rhythmic thrum of the coat's purring, a gentle lullaby that lulls you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Date Published: 7/4/24

Last Edit: 7/4/24

[yes0another0outsiders0blog]

SFW Alphabet : Ponyboy Curtis

Should I have aged Pony up for this? Maybe. Was I over halfway done writing this before I realized that with no desire to rewrite any of it? Absolutely. Did I give a few cheap "idk, man, he's like 14" answers on some of these? Uh, yeah, sorry 'bout that--

Mention of substance abuse/dependency in "ugly."

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Insanely, whenever he can be. Always wants a hug, always wants to hold hands. Incredibly lovey. He's 14, it's probably his first relationship, he is a reader and writer that watches sunsets so you know he romanticizes the hell out of every little thing.

The gang teases Pony a LOT for how affectionate he is with you and then he usually gets all embarrassed about it and gets all weird about pda for a while. Thinks that everyone is just jealous and nobody has ever been this in love and they just don't understand, really he's just easy to make fun of because he's a kid in his first relationship and he's really cringe and awkward about it.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Y'all most likely met at school, did a group project together or something and obviously he's such a sweetie that you weren't not going to be his friend.

You guys become quick friends, you're probably his best school friend instantly (because you actually have classes with him unlike anyone in the gang that's still in school), he'll always sit next to you. Constantly defending each other if anyone talks shit, he takes you to the movies and you two watch sunsets together because no one else cares to do that kind of stuff with him, you go to every track meet to support him and if you're in a club/sport you can bet your ass he's always there to support you. SUPER wholesome besties.

You also have to be his street smarts and basic common sense, though, because this boy has none. He'll go to do anything or open his mouth to say something naieve and you'll have to, like, grab his sleeve and say "now, let's actually think about that, buddy" because otherwise he's saying some r/im14andthisisdeep bullshit that will get him beaten to a pulp just for being annoying, or he'll start on some crazy ungrateful rant about how Darry should be a better guardian and you need to knock some fucking sense into him because absolutely not.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Loves to cuddle, but doesn't get to often. Darry is pretty strict about Ponyboy keeping his bedroom door wide open when you're there or (preferably) sticking to the living room or kitchen, so cuddling at home is a no-go. Obviously, cuddling is difficult at school too because, uh, teachers.

Sometimes you two will go out to the lot or skip a class and head out to the bleachers to lay in the grass and cuddle. Usually, it's very simple. Sitting next to each other with someone's head on the other's shoulder and arms around each other. One of you on your back and the other with their head nuzzled into their chest or neck. Kind of minimal touching, as far as cuddling goes.

He's afraid he'll be hormonal if the cuddling is too intense, lol.

Sometimes, when you two are in the lot, Darry *will* catch you guys but let it slide because, again, it's very minimal touching and could almost be platonic.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Good at cleaning. Doesn't really like cleaning, but would rather get it over with than live in a dirty space, so it would get done even if Darry wasn't there to constantly harp on him to do his damn chores. Does need the reminders because he'll honest to god forget about the dishes in the sink or whatever, but does them right when he does remember them.

Fine at cooking. Capable of reading a recipe, doesn't have the skill or experience to add on or better it. Does the basics, wouldn't be against learning more, but just hasn't really had the chance/need to yet.

Wants to settle down eventually. Sees himself having a pretty traditional/basic life. College, married, house, kids, that kind of stuff.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Would do anything to avoid a break-up. Ends up distancing himself and hoping you break up with him over it. Doesn't want to hurt you, ends up hurting you more than if he just sat down and talked to you about splitting up. If you don't take the hint and dump him he'll probably hand you a note in the hallway and leave SO fast so he doesn't have to do it face-to-face.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Again, overly romanticizes. Thinks that when he loves somebody it's the truest love to ever be felt by anyone. Is instantly daydreaming about the future. Ponyboy is big on commitment, but he's young so it's all an "eventually" type of thing. Y'all probably have legit promise rings a year in.

Just smart enough (that's a lie, it's because Darry said so) to decide to wait for actual marriage until he actually graduates and has a stable job instead of the second y'all are both 18 like he originally planned.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

SO gentle. Especially physically, treats you so good. Emotionally, he's really gentle but can get really socially unaware and ends up saying something stupid way too often because he just genuinely doesn't see/consider the issue with whatever he said. But the kid TRIES.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Loves hugs. Will hug you goodbye every single time you go to leave. Will give you a congratulatory hug if you achieve anything. He's physically pretty sensory seeking, he likes holding onto things.

Hugs are usually fairly short and sweet, though. Very warm and nice, but if it goes on for too long then he feels a bit awkward. Like, he doesn't know what to do with his hands after a while and starts to worry that you're uncomfortable, he spends way too much mental energy thinking about the most appropriate hug length.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

On the second date. The first date is so casual and very mutual-crush-besties, but after he just thinks about you and how much he's fallen for you. On the second date, he's basically instantly confessing his love and asking if you want to be in an official relationship.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Average amount of jealousy. No issue with you having friends or anything. Only gets really jealous when someone is getting flirty with you or you start paying an extreme amount of attention to someone.

Gets really moody when jealous, may not even realize he is jealous. A lot of "no, it's fine" and shit. Irritable, usually isolates or vents to someone else.

He apologizes when someone informs him that he's being a jealous jerk, though. Again, he usually doesn't clock the feeling so he has no idea he's doing it.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Quick, sweet, a bit shy. A peck on the cheek or a quick brush of the lips. He'd probably get in trouble for it at school with teachers and at home with Darry, or most of the rest of the gang will tease you two RELENTLESSY anytime they catch you two, so kisses are super sneaky and the types that you can pull away from real quick.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Neither loves nor dislikes children, doesn't really know what to do with kids. He's the youngest person he's around most of the time, he would be so confused if you just plopped a kid down in front of him. Would probably be really good with a quiet, "good" kid, he'd love to read to them or babysit one of those kids that just, like, sit in the corner and draw or quietly play with toys for hours. The second a kid starts being super hyper or rambunctious, though, he'd be so overwhelmed and need an adult *RIGHT* now.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Y'all meet up at school and spend as much time together as possible before the bell rings. Studying for first period, chatting about upcoming plans or the day before, etc.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

A hug and a kiss goodbye at your door, lol. You think you're spending the night? You think he's allowed to spend the night at your place? C'mon, now.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Pretty open when it's relevant. Like, if asked a direct question he isn't going to lie and he doesn't really have an issue talking about himself. As soon as he sees you as a safe person that won't make fun of him for it, he's deep-diving into how he feels about almost everything to get your perspective. A lot of the gang either doesn't care to listen or will make fun of him for being a little bitch, so Ponyboy will absolutely latch on to someone willing to listen to his random emotional and philosophical bullshit.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Gets moody or frustrated easily, stresses easily and may need a break from whatever is getting to him. But actually angry? Slightly below average. There are things that will absolutely push those buttons quick enough, but he isn't actually angry so much as overwhelmed a fair amount of the time.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Remembers a surprising amount of little things. Your favorite and least favorite colors? Foods? Books? Movies? Etc? Absolutely remembers all of them. Might forget bigger things, like your birthday or something. And it isn't like he even forgets!! He just has that weird "is time real?" anxiety that some people have. Like "I know their birthday is on [date], and it's [date] today, but is it *REALLY* [date]??? What if I say happy birthday and they're confused and tell me it isn't their birthday? Maybe I should wait for someone else to tell them happy birthday first, just to be safe..."

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Your second date. Eating at the diner where he told you he loved you and asked you to be his officially, watching the sunset, catching a late movie, and then walking you home and giving you a hug and kiss goodbye at the door.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Around average on the protective scale? Wants to know you're safe, obviously. If anyone is bothering you, he's by your side. If anyone is actively bullying you, Ponyboy will try to get the whole gang to defend you (and if anything serious is going on, they probably will). Will listen to you vent and rant, and (maybe reluctantly) accepts that you can take care of yourself. Will follow your lead mostly, stays close and will happily defend you if you look to him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Tries so hard. Writes love letters, makes sure there's plenty to do on dates (it's never *just* a movie, it's dinner and a movie and talking for hours after), buys you a little gift or treat whenever he has spending money, helps you with school work whenever you need it, walks you home even if it's way out of the way for him.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Extremely addictive personality. He is canonly the heaviest smoker of the group despite also being the youngest, also considers himself addicted to pepsi and--while that could absolutely just be an exaggeration in saying it's his favorite drink--I wouldn't be surprised if he was fairly addicted to the caffeine. He also misuses prescriptions. Having problems with addiction early in life can lead to more issues with addiction later down the line, whether through stronger substance dependency/abuse or just addictive behaviors such as gambling or similar.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

About as much as a young teen is expected to be. Has a good plenty look-based insecurities, definitely wants to look tuff or whatever. Doesn't make it his whole thing. Also probably grows out of it fairly completely unlike some people.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

110% yes. This is true love to him. Yall are soul mates.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Don't know if this is obvious in how I write him, but I headcanon him as autistic (because I'm autistic and I say so, idk). Not diagnosed, because it's the 60s.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Not seeing (or at least trying to see) his point of view. He can be rather emotionally driven sometimes, and it does help when he has someone to give an objective or logical perspective when he's like that, but if you don't start with "yeah, I understand where your coming from, but also consider..." then he'll feel like you're just telling him he's wrong and his feelings don't matter. A lack of sympathy/empathy (idk which, I lack both, oops) is a good way to make him uncomfortable with you as a whole.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Sleeps holding onto something for dear life. A pillow, balling up the blankets next to him, partner, whatever.

[r0s3s26]

hello! i would like to request a MHA matchup if possible<3

name: anne

pronouns: she/her

romantic or platonic matchup: romantic!

gender preference: none, i don't mind:>

ideal first date: going for a walk and grabbing some fast food, hopefully stopping by a bookshop or a cute cafe

personality: i'm an introvert and i like my alone time a lot, my social battery dies very quickly. i can be a bit shy at first, but only at first, i usually get comfortable very easily. i joke around a lot and have a pretty dark sense of humor. i'm quite sarcastic. i'm honest and outspoken, i usually first act and think later. i get attached easily. i overthink a lot. i get emotional very quickly, it's easy to make me angry but also easy to make me cry. i always plan things in advance. i'm stressed 24/7. always worried about future and pretty insecure

likes: animals (i have two cats and a dog), books, food that's especially sweet, the color blue, cartoons, plushies, sleeping

dislikes: parties, crowded places, loud noises, snakes, darkness, people who are unnecessarily mean, heights

perfect partner: someone who is fun to be around, would respect my boundaries, someone who wouldn't mind staying in instead of going out, someone protective who would make me feel special ✨

hobbies: listening to music, writing, reading books/mangas, learning languages

appearance: green eyes, medium length brown hair which i dye a lot, round face, 6 ear piercings, arm tattoo, tall (175 cm or so)

hopefully this is okay, sorry if it's too long or wrong:( take your time and have a nice day/night!! :3

@isadollie Your Match is…Shota Aizawa

<3 This grumpy man

<3 If you guys were to be in a relationship it would mainly be you trying to get Aizawa to get out more into the sun (like please touch grass)

<3 BUT he also loves staying in, ordering take out, and cuddling up on the couch while watching a movie

<3 He works with 1-A so he has an godly amount of patience for anything, and if your his partner it has absolutely doubled

<3 He thinks your tattoo and piercings make you look badass, but he would never say that outloud

<3 And also because he is the teacher of 1-A he already is protective of everyone, so you would never have to fear of being in danger, cause he fixed the problem before you even got there

<3 If you ever made a semi dark joke to him he would look at you like this

(he looks so fine in this picture oh my lord😍😍)

<3 Yall have so many cats

<3 Eri probably really likes you, and likes having a maternal figure in her house (dadzawa needed help BAD)

<3 On a more angsty note…

<3 He is very good at telling when something isn’t right with you

<3 Very observant

<3 Like if your having a bad day and everything is just bottling up inside of you and you lash out, he would let you, and then once you have calmed down he would just pull you into a hug, kiss the top of your head and say “i'm right here, you can let it out”

<3 BAWLING

<3 Ok back to happy

<3 So basically I feel like Aizawa is funny as fuck but like secretly, only you and Hazashi know that he is super funny.

<3 Date idea: Playing soft lofi or jazz while reading together in his arms

<3 EEEKKKKKKK

<3 Just so much domestic fluff

<3 Last thing is because you both have longish hair, you absolutely do matching hairstyles, like that half up half down

<3 Ok now to drabble

You sit there with one of your many cats on the couch, your scrolling through movies to watch with as you wait for your boyfriend to get back from patrol. On the coffee table you have taken out from his favorite restaurant, it's basically a buffet at this point knowing the pro hero will be hungry. There is a knock at the door alerting you that Aizawa is back, you softly place “mittens the cat” on the couch, not to disturb his slumber. You walk to the entrance and see your boyfriend taking his shoes and pro hero gear off, “Hi Shota” you say while softly walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his front “Hi honey” he says back. For a moment you just stare at each other softly until he leans in kissing you as softly as his gaze, you kiss back slowly wrapping your arms around his neck, raking your fingers through his hair and scratching his scalp. You tug him closer by the back of his head to kiss him deeper, showing how much you have missed his body slotted next to yours. Aizawa pulls away and pecks your nose, “I missed you too anne”.

(Authors note: I'm sorry I lowkey got carried away at the end, but I hope you like it)

[rafesthroatbaby]

You’re so sexy and sweet and that bitch is just mad that they’ll never be you. Only insecure, jealous, whiny bitches take the time to go into someone’s inbox on anon and insult them. People need to touch fucking grass, or maybe get bitch slapped across the face to knock some sense into them. Ily pretty girl.🖤💋

omg baby ILY 🥹 that’s you 💕 FUCKING FACTS ! Girls who have their shit together don’t bother strangers for no reason.

did you just say bitch slapped across the face? THAT’S MY GIRL 😭 trust me they even wouldn’t get it otherwise ! bitches need to know their damn places.

[jennrypan]

Black washing is the same as white washing you dumb cunt and your so fucking racist It's sad white people don't fucking care if you make black people that fine but leave white people the fuck alone I hope your dumb ass gets beat because clearly you need some damn sense knocked into your ugly ass if you don't understand the issue with it like having a million white characters don't mean shit if your just going to keep erasing them being white because that's literally what's happening and your so ignorant like why not just I don't fucking know make original black charters like how the white ones are original to begin with for representation like why do you care so much about changing a white character don't you want originals like Tiana Black panther Number five from code name kids next door those are all original black characters and guess what? there's literally zero controversy over them being black.

Lol your bitch ass couldn't even say this off anon 🤣 You can't be a pussy and racist pick a struggle

Also baby I ain't reading all that shit, but ya know what?? Have black bakugou <3

Go touch grass <3

[mehidktbh]

Hi dear! how about Ghost x female reader/ K9 (Malinois) handler. That would be badass man, thank u in advance 🤍

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Warning: Swearing, mentions of war?, cute dogs, mentions of bruises and injuries, pining from Ghost (and you?), Ghost totally has a crush on you tho... but ngl it’s kinda just a chill fluff fic

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting, I loved this idea it was very neat and interesting. Hopefully, I'll be able to fly through the rest of my other requests considering you guys are killing it!

"Good boy!" You remark quickly and cheerfully to the dog in front of you, a dropped ball lands at your feet as he sticks his tongue out waiting for you to throw it again. His beautiful fur coat shines against the beaming sun as you begin to pull your arm back, letting go and throwing the ball upwards as far as you can go. The dog patiently waits at your feet as he waits for your command. "And...go!" The sound of his paws immediately hitting the soft ground as he directly and swiftly runs off to get the ball that landed far away on the plush grass. Unknowingly enough to you that someone was watching you from afar.

Ghost stalks you from afar, watching as you run around with the K9 your happy and sparkling smile plastered on your face as you praise the dog. Smothering the dog with sweet praises and commands, patting him and watching you wait for the dog to get back. The sound of the other dogs barking behind you as they wait for their turn to train. The tugging of leashes and different growls and ruffs erupt every now and again.

The annoying sound of his Sargent awakes him from his staring state, the sound of Price's boots coming up behind Ghost as he looks head-on. "Staring at someone, Ghost?" Price asks trying to look behind Ghost to see who he was staring at, only to receive a gruff annoyed voice. "No, sir." He nods to Ghost deciding to leave it at that, reminding Ghost to listen up and stay focused before he goes back over the instructions with the rest of the group.

Ghost quickly eyeing you once he hears your voice happily rewards the dog, giving him a good pat before commanding the dog to follow. The sound of his collar dinging through the air as he follows you down the building, the sounds of dogs barking only makes him focus back.

♡ ♡ ♡

Ghost treads through the grass slowly, inspecting the buildings as he tries to look through the blackish windows. A steel door blocked the outside world from the K9s, a padlock hanging off the handle but unlocked. He doesn't want to just walk into a place he doesn't order around so instead, he sighs before knocking on the steel door. Harsher then attended as he hopes you come out to greet him as he knows you switch times with other people.

"Wait!" Your soft voice rings out from down the hall, stepping inside a bit he leaves the door open to rest against his back, looking, left and right at the room. Metal cages all lined up down the hall, a tall roof with some run roofs to let some light in, the crispy golden sun beams down and gives the building a nice touch. The smell of dog stench and dog food fills his nose. Dogs instantly come up to the front of their cages, he could see their heads as the dogs' bark and yelp at the sudden 'intruder'.

"What can I do for you, Ghost?" Just his name is enough to make his mask heat up, his eyes scanning you up and down as you stand instead in front of him. Your unsteady breaths could only mean you were just running around, your hot face also describes it too. He's surprised a bit that you know his name too as he isn't one to remember most.

Sure you guys talk sometimes, normally it'll be between breaks or after he gets back from a mission seeing you standing there talking to someone else. He'll be tired as fuck, with bruises and scratches all over his body and no sense of where he is and what's happening but he knows you're there and he can only admire you the whole time.

"I'm here for Riley" He mumbles, his muffled mask making it hard for you to understand what he's saying but you normally know he's here for Riley half the time. "Sure, follow me" Your voice encourages him to leave his tense body at the door as you begin to walk down the hall, his thudding footsteps against the concrete make you smile.

The sound of dogs sniffing through the metal gaps in the fence makes him sneakily stick his hand out as he passes through. Making sure you don't catch him as he enjoys the K9s trying to sniff his masked glove. They could probably smell the sweat and dirt off him, he just got back from break and maybe the amount of coffee that everyone drinks finally stuck to him.

Walking through an archway you guys reach what seemed to be a backyard, artificial grass mixed with real grass mixed, the dead brown colour looks out of place next to the artificial grass. Different dogs, from Malinois to German Shepherds. They run around with their luxury groomed fur coats so full of colour and life the further, the backyard gets the more the dogs seemed to be just brown dots.

"Spot Riley?" You ask turning to him, yet he shook his head only making you put both of your hands on your hip. Riley looks like every other dog, with the same coat but a different kinda personality. Your hands cup your mouth, you suck in some air before quickly calling Riley. "Riley!?" You yell loud enough to get his attention but not too loud. Watching as you both spot him turning his head in the distance before sprinting your way, dropping his attention from the other dog he was playing with.

"Another mission, huh?" You tease, snickering when Ghost stood there for a bit looking at you before shoving his nervous emotions deep down. "Yeah. In Mexico, again." He sounds a bit annoyed when he mentioned Mexico but your soft face was refreshing to see. "Hopefully it's not too hot down there, I wouldn't survive." Your laughing surprisingly came out, your eyes squinting as you hide your mouth. Ghost lets out a chuckle in return, "You can't imagine" Just as you were about to reply a rapid sound of breaths interrupted you two, turning his head he saw Riley sitting beside you two.

You bent down to rub Riley's fur, ruffling it under your fingers as your mouth turns upward into the most beautiful smile Ghost had ever seen. "Riley seems excited don't you boy?" Your tone turns into a bit babyish as you pamper him with affection, Ghost staring down at you both, a bit jealous that Rileys' getting all your affection. Standing back up your hand over the leash that only now he noticed, the strap felt hard and the gold metal part was cold through his thick gloves.

Your fingers touched and glided over Ghost's hand he felt a warm butterfly sensation throughout his whole body. A weird feeling he's never felt. "Alright you two stay safe, good luck" Your mellow and clear tone was something he wanted to hear even on his mission as he was already going to miss you the second he turned his back.

"Thanks a ton" He smiled from under his mask, you're eyes glistened into his. "No worries" but even when he turned around to leave the same way he came through, the leash dangling out of his hand with Riley following behind he still felt something was missing. Your presence.

[gayfanservice]

👀

I has request

Vampire! Tendou with a bit of a crush on Reader who sorta kinda stalks him at night, but it's only to protect him from Werewolf! Ushijima who may or may not also have his eye on poor unsuspecting human Reader!

Then Reader finds the two of them snarling at each other in his front yard and is like the actual bloody fuck??

You could make it medium or long whatever you feel like doing!

Ah I love the horror genre I'm so happy about this event!

I love horror too! I was actually going to do horror instead of fairytale for my 100

Quick fight, blood, reader gets fucking traumatized

*********

The moon was high in the sky, the town asleep. Satori sat on a tree branch, watching the wolf to make sure he wouldn’t get close. They’ve doing the same thing for weeks- months even. Staring at each other from across the yard, making sure the other wouldn’t touch the human inside. Wakatoshi growled, stalking towards the house through the bushes. He sniffed the ground, continuing up to the door before he was tackled to his back, “Hello, Wakatoshi! What are you doing here?” He growled, human features appearing before Satori, “What do you want, Tendō?” Satori smirked, “So aggressive- oh!” He was kicked off, back hitting the soft grass as Wakatoshi was now on him, “Now, now, play nice,”

He giggled to himself. Wakatoshi growled, his ears flat against his head, drool dripping onto Satori’s face, “Bad puppy!” He disappeared as Wakatoshi bit down, skimming the undead flesh of his neck. Wakatoshi snarled as the black smoke cleared, the wolf running towards Satori and pouncing on him. Wakatoshi dug his claws into Satori’s chest, the undead hissing at him before turning to smoke again, “Don’t you have some butts to sniff, Wakatoshi?” Satori’s wounds healed up, steam rising from his body. Wakatoshi growled, the smell of blood filling his senses. His ears perked, catching the faint ‘squeak’ of the door. The two looked over, watching as the half asleep human rubbed his eyes before they went wide, “What the fuck.”

(Y/N) looked around his yard, being woken up by what he thought was horny raccoons only to see a pale man and a wolf. He slammed the door shut, Satori appearing in front of it and slamming his face into it, “Shit!” He held his nose, the pain making his eyes water, “Good job,” Satori scrawled at him. He knocked. Nothing. ‘Fucker,’ He thought, sighting an open window and disappearing to it, coming face to face with (Y/N) in his bedroom. He climbed in, “Hello-” He ducked as a lamp was thrown at him, turning back to the human to see the door wide open. (Y/N) ran down the stair, bumping into his couch as he ran out of his house and away from the dead thing.

Satori appeared in front of him, “Now, now, I only want to- son of a bitch!” He fell to his knees, hands over his crotch as (Y/N) ran in the opposite direction down the dirt path. His breathing was rigid and uneven, his heart pounding in his chest as fear took over his body. He slipped as the wolf jumped in front of him, running back before Satori appeared. (Y/N) screamed, backing into Wakatoshi’s chest, “Now, where were we?” Satori grabbed (Y/N)’s face, Wakatoshi keeping his body in place with him gripping (Y/N)’s arms. Tears fell from (Y/N)’s face, the terror in his face getting Satori rilled up. He turned his head, studying (Y/N)’s neck, labored breathing and small hiccups the only thing heard.

“Please, please don’t hurt me! I-I don’t want- I don’t want too!” He cried. Wakatoshi softly shushed him, cooing at him before growling at Satori. Satori rolled his eyes before burning his face in (Y/N)’s neck, feeling him shudder as he took a deep breath, “Don’t cry, (Y/N). It will be over soon,” (Y/N) let out a sob, the tears running faster down his face as the two felt a pang in their chests. Wakatoshi growled, “You’re scaring him, Satori.” Satori hissed back, “Shut it.” He caressed (Y/N)’s face, softly kissing his neck before sinking his teeth in. (Y/N) took a sharp inhale, Wakatoshi covering his mouth as he screamed into his hand. He felt his blood dribble down his body before he fell unconscious.

*********

This was honestly the funnest to write so far

[venenatd]

last meal; jean kirstein x reader

summary: you and jean are in a relationship, and finally get some private time for a cute picnic date the day before he goes on the mission to marley. it’s v cute but also ur both horny!

content: smut / nsfw 18+. minors dni. (public/outdoors sex, dracylphilya, size kink, fingering, thigh riding, use of “good girl/baby”, praise kink, female bodied reader, unprotected sex, creampie) some fluff for good measure.

i am new to this pls let me know if i should add anything!!

word count: 3.3k words of unedited content

a/n: i saw a cottage core inspired jean post and this idea immediately popped into my head. i also kept thinking back to the sunset blush scene and it felt destined lmao. i thought it was gonna be shorter but i guess i get carried away lol. pls feel free to send me requests or ideas or give any advice on what you liked!! thanku!<3

Everything is painted with gold. The sun hanging low in the sky, despite the late hour, still warms your skin. You and Jean walk away from the Scout Headquarters, warmth of the evening allowing you to roam without coats. 

He’s in a tight cream shirt, braces holding up darker toned pants. A simple hat sits on his head, shading his eyes from the setting sun. You, a simple sage dress, loose and flowing around your legs. The long grass tickles your flesh, and the two of you laugh as you try running through the field, lifting your limbs stupidly high to jump over the pasture. 

Jean snorts at you, watching you flap around. The orange hue of dusk makes your hair shine, your skin glow beautifully. And as you look up at him, a wide and goofy smile spreading across your face, he can see all the flecks and details of varying colours in your eyes. And it takes his breath away. 

It was the last night before the end. He’s not sure of what, but it feels like the next chapter is to be finished when he closes his eyes tonight. Tomorrow he goes to Marley. Hange ordered all of their team to go relax for the final day at home. “We’ve gone over the plans enough, we know every angle! Go! Shoo!”

Hange was right. Going in and getting Eren home. It was engrained in Jeans brain. The scouts knew everything they were going to before they arrived. So tonight, it’s all about you.

You, with your skirt floating around you as you weave between trees, making your way to the clearing the two of you know so well. It’s where he first admitted feelings, where you first kissed. The others don’t know (or so you both think), and until he’s safe from his last mission, you’re not sure the two of you will ever reveal your affiliation. 

Pulling a blanket from the picnic basket you’ve brought with you, Jean lays it down on the ground. There’s a wide pond in front of you both, some ducks still paddling about. A thin haze floats over the water, the last of the summer heat still encouraging dragonflies and water skippers out. 

The light snacks you’d managed to sneak out from your job in the kitchen were delicious. You’d whipped up some light pastries and desserts from leftover ingredients. Even some strawberries and grapes. Whilst everything was miniscule from lack of provisions, it tasted good enough. 

Dipping the sweet red fruit from the cream and sugar and between your lips, Jean is in heaven. Your hair being pushed by the wind away from your face, the rosiness on your cheeks. The world may end tomorrow, but tonight he’s got all he needs.

His hands reach over, noticing the drip of cream collecting on the corner of your lips. Swiping his thumb along your cheek, he notes “you’ve got a lil..”

Jean looks at you, his eyes locking on yours, still gently cupping your face in his hands. Warm pupils flick down. His brows scrunch together for a moment, before he moves forward. His other hand comes up to your face, and he is so gentle when he kisses you. It’s as if he may break you if he goes too far.

The soft plush of his lips on yours, slowly pulling you in is intoxicating. He leans back on his forearms, pulling you over him, not letting you leave his mouth. You knock into his hat, it flopping off behind him as you lower your chest over his.

A hand reaches to his chestnut hair. It’s grown long over the last few years. You play with tendrils, the two of you lazily kissing. It’s soft and easy. You’re breathing into one another your chest resting on his as you move a leg to intertwine with his. 

Shifting yourself slightly, you rest directly above his thigh. Jeans hand comes to the back of your neck, making sure you don’t split the contact he so desperately needs. Your nails slide softly against his scalp, twisting into his hair with more want. 

The man, your man, underneath you curls forward, leg lifting and chest pushing up into you. Your crotch bumps against his thigh. A delightful little gasp erupts from you. If Jean wasn’t tongue deep in your mouth he could have even missed it. But he is, and he didn’t. 

He’s tempted to see how far he can take this, maybe make another first here. You’ve had sex, and plenty of it. Although for the most part it’s been rushed, the nature of your jobs only allowing for quickies. You both lived in shared rooms, and the lack of privacy was definitely a roadblock in his attempts to please you.

This clearing, in the outside meadows by headquarters, is maybe an ironic place for the privacy you both so need. Putting any doubt out of his mind, Jean lifts his muscular thigh, achieving another gasp into his mouth from you. You grind against it slowly, tentatively.

“No need to be shy, baby girl” he smiles into the kiss.

Cheeks rosy, you roll your hips along his leg. Jeans body rises further, leaning back casually on one hand, the other gripping the flesh between your waist and hip. He breaks the kiss that has been going on so long, wanting to take in all the ways your face displays pleasure. 

Your eyebrows knit together slightly. Your lips are wet with saliva, slightly parted as you give off little mewls each time your clothed cunt is brushed along his cotton pants. 

There’s a sweet and tender feeling building in your lower stomach. You can feel how wet you’re getting, the slow and methodical undulations generating a heat between your thighs. 

“Jean, plea-”

“You want more?” he’s quick to answer. Your head jumps and up and down, past the point of playing shy. 

His long fingers meet with your jaw once more, lightly skimming your features. He’s noting it all down in his head. Maybe he’ll even make a drawing of you. You pause in your ministrations, and a low tutting comes from the man. “No, no. Keep riding. Get yourself ready.” 

A delicious smile emerges on your face, and you bear down on his thigh. You take your hands on each leg, gripping onto the thickly built muscle underneath the cloth. A couple of fingers miss their mark, and you can feel how hard Jean is getting. Eyes flash between his crotch and his face, and he can sense how eager you are to please him. 

His touch moves from your jaw down, one finger slowly running along the centre of your throat. Jeans hand dips, slowly dragging his fingernails across each collar bone, down to the valley of your chest. Your breath hitches, and he moves away again. You shift your hand in response, moving it towards the joint between his thigh and pelvis, allowing your fingers to brush his clothed balls.

Wherever his fingers move leaves a tingling in their wake. They push towards your shoulder, teasing the fabric from each one. Your dress pools a little, allowing him to make his way back, this time taking your breast in his hand. Thumb brushes against your puffy buds, and a finger meets it to squeeze lightly.

Jean fully lifts off the blanket, sat up straight. He makes quick work of your dress, pulling it down and pushing it up. He grabs at your legs, going between light caresses and tight grasps, not knowing which to settle with. Finally he finds purchase in your ass, guiding you back and forth over his thigh.

You moan into his mouth, fully succumbing to the wetness surely dampening through your panties, the feeling of his fingers twisting and teasing your pert nipples. He raises his fingers from your chest, using his thumb on your lower lip to apply gentle pressure. 

Breaking the trail of saliva that connects you both, he pushes an index finger between your lips. You’re all too eager to suck on it, eyes looking dutifully at him. He inhales sharply between his teeth. His cock is so hard, so desperate to fuck into you. Jean wants it to be slow and beautiful, but he simply needs to have you. He wants you close to him before he leaves and doesn’t know if he’ll come back. And close means being inside you, hearing you in your purest form. 

The dusky pink settling on his cheeks could be the sun, low in the sky, filling the meadow with rich hues. 

Your moans could not be interpreted so wholesomely.

Fingers wet with your spit, he moves his hand between your legs, under the skirt. Pushing your panties to the side he lets you ride his palm for a moment. Teasing yourself, teasing your clit on his strong hand. He goes deeper, fingers sliding through your folds. He slips through your folds, resting at your entrance, before allowing your hips to rise and him to push knuckle deep inside you.

You reddened lips form a perfect ‘o’, and the bliss on your face is one he will remember forever. His thumb moves to your clit. Still on top of him, Jean watches you fuck yourself on his fingers. He kisses your neck, your chest. Taking your nipples and sucking, biting, nibbling. 

Your walls are closing in on him, before gently relaxing and he can tell you’re close. 

“Don’t be shy” Jean reissues his earlier statement. But now it’s far huskier, far more commanding. “I want to hear you, y/n. I want to hear you cum.” 

You’re watching his face, the words - orders - tumble from his lips. They make you flutter around his fingers. You murmur out tiny please’s. 

“What did I say? Louder, y/n.”

You moan against his neck, “please.”

Jean pulls your hair, making you extend your neck, forcing you to look up to the hues of pink and orange. “Louder.”

You’re so close. “Jean, p- please!” 

“Good girl.”

With that he’s flicking his thumb over your clit, fucking his fingers up into your cunt. The sounds of liquid and wetness only add to the noises of you cumming. Pussy clenching around his fingers, hips giving way and as your legs start to burn and shake. Jean holds you up, working you through your orgasm. He wants nothing more than to watch you fall apart, moaning his name. And then whining curses as you become oversensitive. Yet your gummy walls still suck him in, begging for more.

Leaving your tight walls, he brings the fingers to his lips. You taste tarte and sweet. Better than strawberries any day.

Your breaths are heavy as he twists the two of you, resting you with your back on the blanket. You are radiant. A green halo of grass above you, the dusting of pink on your cheeks, your lips kiss-swollen.

Jean pushes your skirt up, eyes trained on yours as you rest on your elbows. Your eyes follow his movements. How his tongue wets his lips before he drags them on your inner thigh. How his fingers dig in to pull you closer towards him. 

He pulls off your sodden panties, kissing into your hips, your belly. Jean is slow and deliberate. As much as he wants to be deep within you, he’s never had the chance to enjoy you this slowly before. 

He rises, kissing your breasts as they spill from the top of your dress. His tongue paints saliva on your lips before slipping between them. The kiss is intense. It’s deep and sloppy and so needy. 

Your hand reaches to his shoulders, thumb slipping underneath his braces pulling them off. Hands slip under his shirt, and he quickly helps you pull it off. His muscles are firm and taught, the amount of work his body has been through over the years evident underneath your fingers. You trail fingertips over stripes of knotted flesh, kissing each mark and scar after your hands move onto the next one. 

“You’re beautiful, Jean”

Jeans cheeks go rosy and he smiles so bashfully that it breaks you apart. The lopsided grin makes you pull him back into you, teeth bumping together as you giggle into the kiss. 

He unbuttons his pants, pushing them far enough down his thighs to allow more friction as he grinds into you. Jean is noticeably straining his underwear, his member long and hard. You move your hand down to cup him, squeezing gently through the cotton. You tug on his cock, leaving him stuttering into your mouth. Holding him just tightly enough, he ruts his hips into your hand, little sighs escaping his mouth into your hair. 

Tucking your hand under the fabric, you pull out his dick. It makes your hand look smaller, Jean’s member long and hard. The pink tip is slick with precum, and your thumb brushes his head slightly, earning a little hiss. 

You go from light little touches to harsher ones. Fingers brushing against the veins on his length, before you wrap around him again. He’s whining in your ear, “you like playing with my cock? Seeing what you do to me?” 

With hooded eyelids you look at his contorting face and whisper “yes, yes. I want to please you, I want to make you feel good.” 

“Such a good girl for me.”

Taking his member, you push the tip against the heat between your legs. Teasing your clit with his head, he looks down to watch you work. Precum lightly sheens over your folds, and fuck, Jean can’t wait to add to it. 

“I w-want you so bad Jean.” 

“You have all of me.” 

You hold him against your entrance, the tip of him just resting at your little hole. Pulling him in a little, he pushes against the first tight ring. It’s always intense letting Jean fuck you, making you so full. You rock your hips up, letting him slip out a little, before grinding back down. It pulls him into you so sensually. He moans unashamedly as you control the pleasure you both receive. 

Repeating the action, you lift again, pushing him out, and again tightening your stomach muscles to curl and bring him deeper inside you. His golden eyes are trained on where you’re conjoined. 

He’s halfway inside you, stretching your tight walls so much already. Jean sits back, moving his tongue around inside his mouth before letting a ball of spit fall where his cock rests inside of you. Spreading it on his length, he helps you the rest of the way. Letting your eyes widen and gasp of surprise (how are you always surprised by the feeling?) as he fully sheaths himself inside you. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he holds himself above you, head falling back as he inhales slowly.

Jean allows you a moment to breath, before he pulls back out, quickly snapping his hips back to yours. Moans tumble out of your mouth as he fucks into you. Lashes fluttering and your tits bouncing in rhythm, you are a sight for the sorest of eyes.

“You’re so pretty for me, all splayed out on my cock.” 

He pushes your legs apart, watching his length disappear inside you. Watching how one hand twists your own nipple, the other feebly trying to grab onto his wrist. He’s splitting you apart on his dick, the feeling of being so fucking full taking over. You were already sensitive from your last orgasm, but he builds another, the tightening in your core unmistakable. 

“J- Jean,” you hiccup, so overwhelmed by him. “You’re s- so big” 

“You’re taking me so well, y/n.” 

He lowers himself against your chest, bringing his knees upwards and closer to your ass. You curl up around him, holding your legs further up. Jean quickly renegotiates the position, pulling your legs around him whilst you hold under your knees. You can feel him so deep inside you this way, pulled into a ball underneath him. Jean wants to be impossibly close, and this new angle is punishing on your pussy. He can feel how wet you are between you, how much you enjoy the intensity of his cock working in and out. 

His forehead presses against yours, his hand snaking between you two. From his new angle, he can hit that sweet spot inside you so easily. His length sweeps against it, and hits into your furthest wall. He lets out curses as he feels your cunt tighten each time, mixing with the moans and mewls from you. You lock eyes with him, big doe eyes pricking. 

“Pl- please, I’m so close, Jean.”

Fat tears roll over your cheek, trailing to your temple. Everything feels too much. Him inside of you, the wet squelching between you. His strong fingers rubbing over your clit again and again. You let out a sob, followed by a moan. It’s a combination of knowing this is the last night, feeling how fucking intense his cock is inside you, hearing how much Jean needs you. He kisses your cheeks, tasting the salt, not faltering as he continues to pummel into you. 

“You’re doing so good, baby.”

His balls slap against your skin. 

“You can do it.” 

His teeth bite at the flesh of your breast, pull at your nipples.

“I want to hear you.”

His fingers play and roll with your clit, feeling the way you tighten around his cock.

“Please cum for me, y/n.”

Your back arches off the blanket, the night sky soaking up the moans. The lewd noises in between you both are all consuming, the slap of slick and wetness only adding to your full body sensation. 

His fingers keep moving on your clit, and Jean grunts each time your pussy spasms around his cock. He keeps pace, fucking you raw and with need. He loves to see your delicate face scrunched up, eyes rolling back and mouth unable to close. 

And with the tightening of your walls around him, Jean’s close. “Where do you want me?” 

“I want,” you inhale sharply, as his cock drives back into you, “you inside me- I- I need you Jean. Please.”

“You’re so good, baby, you’re so good.” He’s getting quicker, making you writhe beneath him in your overstimulated state. “I’ll give you what you want, okay? I’m going to cum inside your pretty pussy.” 

Jeans fingers are going to bruise you. He's holding onto you so tight, never wanting to let you go. It’ll be something to remember him by. Movements are starting to stammer, the sweat evident by the sheen forming across his shoulders and face. You tuck a tendril of his honey hair behind his ear. “I love you”, you whisper amongst the moans. And with that he pushes deep enough to make you cry out, feeling the hot ropes of cum painting your walls. 

Your man rests inside you for a moment, gathering his breath as he leaves languid kisses against your breasts, your jaw, your lips. He pulls out, seeing his cum drip from your pussy. Using his fingers he pushes the white around your folds, earning a sharp his when he brushes past your clit. Finally, he brings his fingers to your lips, and you put out a delicate tongue. 

Cleaning him with your mouth, he sits back, sighing softly. How can you be this good? And you like him? Jean thinks he is the luckiest man on earth. He adjusts your dress for comfortability, before dipping next to you. Your heads are lightly touching, your hair intertwined with his. Staring up at the sky as the last colour leaves it in its inkiness, he holds you close. He presses his final kiss on your forehead. 

“I love you too.” 

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙈𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙅𝘼𝘾𝙊𝘽𝙎𝙀𝙎. | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 (18+)

edit by @raeganlolz <3

∘ requests: I tried to use as many as I could that made sense! Hope you enjoy!

“the things i’d do to meet edgy karl’s parents.”

“ok but next time you want to write smut for edgy!karl...post pregnancy scare...karl having a fixation on readers tiddies...like the whole time. -🧚🏻‍♀️”

“i stg this is my last thing ill send in today about edgy!karl but karl letting reader dom him completely.-🧚🏻‍♀️”

“CONSIDER edgy!Karl saying ‘that's my girl’”

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader 

∘ warnings: nsfw (minors dni), mentions of underaged sex, asphyxiation, domination, this being 4k

∘ word count: ~4000 (im so sorry)

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

∘ disclaimer: I made up all the dynamics and Karl lore. This is also an au and I do what I want so

You rolled your shoulders, twisting your back to alleviate some of the stress in your back as your mind raced at the possible outcomes of spending the weekend at Karl’s parent’s place. He seemed to deal with the situation in his own way, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips as he scrubbed the nail polish from his fingers. You wondered if his parents were sticklers for order, then again, knowing Karl, there was no way they weren’t crazy strict. You thought about your own family and what would happen if Karl were to meet your mother.

Karl seemed almost absent-mindedly going through the motions of visiting them like you had nothing to worry about. There were occasions when he even made it clear that you had your life more intact than he did, so it was doubtful they would hate you.

You peered over at him, taking your eyes off the road momentarily as he paused to blow smoke out of his window. “Why do you have to take it off?” You asked, gesturing to his hands.

He scoffed slightly, sitting up and throwing the dirty cotton ball into the small bag beside him. “My mom hates the dark colors,” he murmured, flicking his cigarette bud outside. He moved a hand to settle over your thigh, wrapping his fingers around the flesh. “Don’t worry, I’ll paint them again when we get back,” he chided. “I know it’s the only reason you keep me around.”

You snorted at this, shaking your head at his joke.

The two of you came to a small stop-over town, swapping seats after filling up the tank at the local gas station. Through the crack in the passenger window, you could hear the cashier greeting Karl as if they were old friends, smacking him on the back and walking him out the door with a smile. As Karl sank into the driver’s seat you furrowed your brows. He looked at you with a shrug. “We vacation around here sometimes,” he brushed off, making your mouth twist in disbelief. He was downplaying the extent of his family’s hold over the town.

As the two of you drove through the main street of the town, your eyes snapped to the various stores with his last name plastered on the signs. You nearly asked him about it, instead opting out as you figured he would give you a half-assed answer and only give you part of the story.

His house had its own street, a long winding road that ended in a looped driveway the size of a suburban cold-de-sac. You willed yourself not to let your mouth gape at the sheer size of the mansion as it stared back at you, blocking the moonlight as Karl opened the passenger door for you to climb out. “Stop treating me like the fucking Queen of England,” you murmured, elbowing him as he pulled on his hoodie, shaking out his hair slightly.

He laughed at you, popping a piece of gum in his mouth, and pressing his lips to yours in a nearly heated kiss as if to give you a taste of what he had in store of you. As he broke the embrace, his nose brushed against yours. “I can treat you worse if you want, pet?” He offered, causing you to shove him away from you.

“We are literally in your parents’ driveway. Chill out,” you urged, making him chuckle as he laced his fingers with yours, pulling you towards the front door. Your heart hammered in your ears as he pushed open the door. You tugged on his arm. “Shouldn’t we knock first?” You whispered, making him pop his gum and shrug.

As if telling you not to worry, he pulled you the rest of the way in the house, only to be greeted with an old man barely reaching over your height. “Karl! My god, you nearly scared the living daylights outta me!” He hooted, as Karl wrapped his arm around the old man, the two chattering away like the best of friends.

You smiled at the warmth between the two, watching Karl blossom. He moved to stand by you, wrapping his arm around your waist and gesturing to the man. “This is my nanny, Leslie. He wouldn’t leave so I think he just dusts the books in one of the libraries,” Karl joked, making the man swat the air in front of Karl.

You raised your eyebrows. “One of the libraries?” You repeated quietly as if to make sure you heard him correctly.

He smirked at you, disregarding your surprise. “This is my girlfriend,” he introduced, rather proudly as Leslie’s face lit up. He grabbed your hands and rambled on about how he had never thought Karl would introduce a girlfriend to the family.

“I thought I heard Karl’s voice. Did he make it?” A feminine tone rang out into the foyer, capturing Karl’s attention a beat before she had started talking as if he had sensed her. You wanted to smirk at the vision, knowing he did the same when he heard you.

A woman came around the corner of one of the walls, her hair and makeup applied to a professional standard and her clothes were cleanly pressed. She looked as if she had just gotten home from an office job with a corner office. Her intimidating aura vanished along with his as soon as she saw him, scooping him up in her arms as he chuckled slightly. She held him out an arm’s length away, pinching his sides and calling him a beanstalk. Another man a few years older than Leslie entered the room, draped in a flowery apron. He embraced Karl as well, the couple fawning over him like they hadn’t seen him in years.

Karl gestured for you to come closer as he showed you off to the pair, introducing them as his parents. Karl’s mom immediately embraced you, murmuring about how Karl hadn’t brought a girl home in ages let alone a girlfriend and you were quickly being to notice a theme amongst the group.

The house was massive, which you had quickly noticed was even bigger than it looked outside, as Karl’s mother looped her arm around yours, giving you the tour and explaining the extensive history of the Jacobs family and their impact on the house. Leslie and she served as some of the most entertaining tour guides you’d ever experienced as they giggling and joked. Karl walked quietly behind the group of you, hands in his pockets as he looked up at the ceilings and pictures as if he hadn’t seen them a thousand times growing up.

You peered over your shoulder, making sure he was still with the rest of you. He set you a wink, lips curling at the sight of you getting along with his family members.

After you were finally beginning to lose track of time Karl broke into the charade, and after vaguely mentioning he was tired, his mother when into a mock cuddling mode, cooing to him sarcastically, yet letting the two of you slink away for the night with the promise of finishing the tour before Karl’s brother showed up in the morning.

Soon it was just you and Karl again, him leading you up a flight of stairs. The hallways were lit with small lanterns that at one time had probably fostered candles but were now replaced with electric ones. You weren’t sure where to look as the walls were crammed with painting and photographs. Half of you wanted to admire the architecture while the rest of you was attempting to identify who the artist was that had done most of the artwork.

Karl sighed tiredly, popping open a door and switching on the lights. You bit back a smile at the view of his room in its pristine condition. The various shades of blues and greys accenting the features of his bed and various pieces of furniture. As you looked around, he threw his wallet and keys onto the dresser beside his bed, shutting the door to drown out the faint music coming from the kitchen. You sat in one of the massive chairs beside the fireplace, your mind running blank with disbelief. A fire was already burning in anticipation of his return.

You ran your finger along the seam in the leather. “When you said your family had money… I didn’t picture all,” you paused gesturing around you, “… this…”

He shrugged with a small smile on his face. “Do you wanna know a little piece of Karl lore?” He asked, smugly.

You perked your eyebrows at his words. “You know I do.”

He gestured with his fingers for you to come towards him as he walked closer to one of the massive windows. He settled his hand in the crook of your neck, turning you to look across the pond at a few of the other massive properties. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before pointing at one directly in front of you. “I lost my virginity in that one,” he stated, making you chuckle.

He wrapped his arms around your waist. “And to whom?” You queried, as his teeth nipped at your ear.

You could practically hear him smirk. “Her name was Ms. Scarlet back then, but I think she’s been married again,” he answered, making you freeze in his hold. “I think she was between husband two and three.”

“Wait, what?” You turned around to face him.

He brushed his lips against yours. “You jealous?”

You furrowed your brows at him, pulling out of his touch. “Were you of age?” You questioned, voice coming out in almost a winded laugh.

He shrugged, plopping down on the bed behind him, leaning his weight back on his hands. “Not the first time.” He smiled up at you. “She’s a friend of mine’s mom. I cut her grass that summer.”

You rubbed your eyes. “Jesus Christ,” you murmured. “Did you hook up again after that?” It was like he had opened Pandora’s box, a mass of questions echoing like bees within your mind.

He looked at the ceiling. “We stopped before my sophomore year of college, I think.” He furrowed his brows in thought. “Yeah, so almost five years.” Your mouth gapped slightly. “But only when I came back for breaks.”

“You were seventeen?” You stressed. “And when you came back from where?” You sat beside him, attempting to decide if you should be worried or not. Obviously, it wasn’t a fact you could change, but the fact that a woman had him at so young-

He hummed slightly. “Boarding school,” he mumbled, trying not to seem smug. He wrapped his arm around your waist. “I know it sounds bad now, but she wasn’t taking advantage of me or anything,” he assured. “I think you’d like her, honestly.”

“You think I’d like a woman that preys on little boys?” He snorted at your comment and you smacked his chest, making him laugh louder.

He dug his face into your neck. “Age of consent is lower here,” he continued to assure. “Baby, I’m okay.” His teeth nipped at your skin. “Plus, I don’t think I’d know how to make you feel so good without her.” That made you green around the gills. You attempted to put the thought of Karl and an older woman out of your mind. “How did you lose yours?”

You swallowed your questions, deciding to save them for another day. “In a treehouse before I left for college. With my roommate’s twin brother,” you murmured.

He chuckled. “Oh, shit. We’re both bad friends, aren’t we?” He jested.

You shook your head, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I was dating him, actually. It was really brief.”

“The sex or the relationship?” He asked, making two gesture two fingers into the air. He pulled away from you, sending you a small smile. “And what’s his name? I need to know who you’re comparing me to.”

You scoffed. “Clay,” you answered, the image of the boy flashing into your mind for an instant.

Karl’s demeanor changed. “Clay?” He repeated, sounding like you earlier as you wrapped your brain around the extent of the Jacobs fortune. “What does that seem so familiar…” he trailed off in thought. You perked your eyebrow at him, knowing full-well the two could have unintentionally crossed paths on campus.

The next morning, you could have sworn you were on the set of a period piece if it weren’t for Karl’s father’s golfing attire and his mother’s tight black dress as they welcomed various family members into the house. You had finally met Karl’s older brother, an accomplished man with a good job and an even more impressive education, yet each time he attempted to boast about his earnings or the progress he was bringing to the family business, he was swatted off only for his parents to gloat about Karl’s fraternity connections and grades.

You peered over Karl’s shoulder as he showed you Todd’s Instagram post, the two of you scoffing before you liked his picture from your account, making Karl roll his eyes as you snickered.

“… And that being said, renting cars is no longer a strenuous task,” Karl’s brother finished.

Mrs. Jacobs nodded her head slightly. Karl had mentioned the family joke of disregarding what his brother said, even if it was impressive or you were interested. It had been a running gag since Karl was in high school and they weren’t planning on letting up anytime soon. “Yeah, that’s neat. Did you hear Karl learned how to do his own laundry?” His mom boasted with a small chirp to her voice as if Karl were the best thing on the planet.

You bit back a laugh as his brother grumbled to himself, his wife patting his arm reassuringly. “He was also one of the most expensive at KA. Very impressive son!” His dad added, sending him a thumbs up.

You stood with Karl in the living room; his arm draped around the top of a bookshelf you were leaning against as you both listened to one of his cousins talk about a new boat they had just paid off.

Your heels felt tight on your feet as you switched the weight from one ankle to the other, leaning closer to Karl. He moved so his lips were near your ear. “Don’t let him fool you. It’s a hollowed-out log with a rudder,” he chided, making the corner of your mouth twist up.

“It’s not much, but it’s honest,” you mockingly defended. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“Inexplicably,” he murmured back, making you laugh quietly. He let a beat of silence pass between the two of you before wetting his lips. “Say the word and we’ll find a random room and I’ll ruin your makeup,” he whispered.

You scoffed, inching closer to him while your eyes remained on the center of the room where everyone was talking. “How can you be horny around your family?”

You could feel his warm breath against your neck. “Because I’m more focused on you in that tight little dress than Kevin’s boat.”

You took a sip from your cup. “Dirty boy,” you joshed quietly.

Karl smirked at you before his eyes drifted to the front door, a new flow of people filing into the house. You noticed him grow quiet, following his gaze to a woman and a boy around your age. They greeted Karl’s parents happily before integrating into the living room with the rest of you. You could tell by the way his face twisted smugly that the woman was Ms. Scarlet. You drew in a breath as she neared the two of you.

Karl stood up a bit straighter and you bit back a laugh, making a mental note on having to tease him about his MILF. The woman smiled brightly at Karl, pinching his cheek. You attempted to piece together who the boy was and if Karl had mentioned him before.

Karl cleared his throat after they shared their pleasantries. “Uh, this is Nick, but everyone calls him Sapnap, and this is his mom… Ms. Scarlet?” He questioned the last part as she charmingly laughed.

“Oh, no darling. I’m Mrs. Donahue now.” Sapnap rolled his eyes slightly at her words, taking a sip of his drink as she winked at him.

Karl smirked. “Right, congratulations. Anyway, they’ve been our neighbors for years-”

She cut him off, squeezing his arm. “Oh, come on! We were trying to marry Karl off to one of Nick’s cousins and finally join the families, but it’s just funny how things work out,” she stated. You wracked your brain, attempting to figure out if it was a dig at you or Karl. The two of them went off on a tangent about the array of Sapnap’s cousins that Karl had had to take on dates and whatnot.

“So, you’re dating Karl then?” Sapnap asked you, more of an aside as they had seemed to forget about you.

You nodded; the fact still rather foreign to you when given the chance to think about it. “Yeah, I’ll claim him,” you joked. “Did you guys go to the same high school?” You asked, attempting conversation.

He looked at you tiredly. “Yeah, yeah. We’ve been classmates since we were little.” You hummed in interest. “I mean, since he fucked my mom we haven’t been hanging out or anything,” he added as if you had been itching to ask.

You had been.

You snorted at his words as he smiled slightly. “Sorry, that’s not funny,” you apologized, covering your mouth.

He shook his head, laughing softly. “No, it definitely is, don’t worry.”

“How did, uh… that affect you guys?” You asked, biting back your humorous response.

He seemed to relax from his stiffened introduction a few minutes prior. He wet his lips. “Honestly, there’s no going back from that, you know?”

You giggled. “No, I don’t.”

He laughed at your answer, covering it with a cough as Karl seemed to remember you were standing beside him. Sapnap’s mom suddenly spotted an old friend of hers, the two parting from your life almost as quickly as they had entered. You leaned against Karl’s arm.

“I like Sapnap,” you hummed, watching the two leave. “He seems quiet.” Karl shrugged beside you. Your mind wandered to whether Sapnap knew Todd. Part of you wished you had asked him, but you were struggling to remember Todd’s real name anyway. “Did you have fun with your lady friend?” You mocked, looking up at him.

He shook his head, biting back a smirk. “You’re my lady friend.”

You chuckled. “Oh? I thought you’d forgotten.”

Before you knew it, you were pressed against Karl in a coat closet in a remote part of the house, unable to make it to his room before his hands were up your skirt and his lips were attacking your skin. He pinned you against the door as if he were worried you would slip out of his grasp as he ground his hips against yours. His teeth grazed against your neck in a mess of hands and hair.

You pushed him further into the closet before he plopped down in a chair towards the back. The both of you shared a look of confusion as to why it was there yet shrugged and went back to carding your fingers through his hair and tugging at his lips with your own. He moaned into your mouth as you climbed into his lap, his hands gripping the flesh of your thighs before snaking up to slip into the top of your dress and take your breast into one of his large hands.

Kissing him felt strange without his tongue ring; if you weren’t so desperate to get yourself off, you would have complained about missing it.

You ground yourself on his lap, groaning at your newfound friction as he spread his legs further for you, his free hand dragging you against his crotch. You pressed your lips against his neck, biting at the skin, determined to mark him as yours. You weren’t doing it to ward off Ms. Scarlet, no. This was for you, knowing full well that Karl always wore your hickeys with pride.

Your hands went to his belt buckle, impatience taking over as you nipped at his skin, earning moans of pleasure as he let you have your way with him. He pressed his lips to your chest as you freed his cock from its cloth entrapment, stroking him with your hand. “Give me your panties,” he whispered, breathlessly as he hooked his fingers around your waistband. You obliged before angling him at your entrance and sinking down onto him. The two of you let out moans of pleasure, swallowing each other’s appraisal.

The air grew warm around the two of you as you began to roll your hips against him. Your head tilting back as you tried to quiet yourself down, knowing the last thing you wanted was for someone to walk in… again.

Karl’s fingers moved to unzip your dress, exposing your chest to his mouth as your fingers moved to tug at his dark locks. He ground his hips up into yours, a thankful moan slipping past your lips as his tongue pressed against the valley between your breasts.

You pushed him against the back of the chair, capturing his lips against your and slipping your tongue into his mouth. He completely submitted to your actions, wanting nothing more than to taste you as you began to ride him harder. Your nails dug into the back of the chair, your other hand moving to unbutton the top of his shirt and wrap around his neck. “Is she better than me?” You asked; your breath husky and demanding as his teeth flashed back at you, his leering smirk mixing with his blissed-out expression as he tried not to roll his eyes at how good he felt with you taking all of him.

“N-no. Of course not,” he groaned. His lips were pink from your teeth, cheeks flushed with lust and adrenaline as his blunt nails raked up your body to claw at your back. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, voice almost a whimper.

You moved your hand to press your thumb to brush against his bottom lip, loving the pleasured expression on his face as he looked at you like you owned him. “Good,” you answered plainly, swirling your hips and tightening your grip on his neck before you could feel your impending orgasm nearly within reach. He almost smiled up at you. What a little freak.

You moved your hand to fist in the front of his shirt, pulling him up to press your lips against his as you bounced on top of him. He let out a deep moan before you felt him release, making you scoff sardonically. His fingers moved to grip your hips, thrusting against you harder, determined to get you to follow him. You dug your face into the crook of his neck, his teeth digging into your skin.

Shamelessly, you let him drag you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you with a flash of heat and relief. Karl kissed you roughly, desperate to taste your moans as if looking for your approval. "That's my girl," he moaned, smiling against your lips.

As the two of you straightened your clothing and cleaned up your appearances, you went for your underpants in Karl’s pocket, but he grabbed your wrist, drawing you to his chest. “You got to be on top, that means I’m in charge of foreplay for the rest of the night,” he answered, pressing a brief and sultry kiss against your lips to wipe away your shocked expression.

“Fine, then I’m in charge when we get back and I’ll send lewds to Todd,” you threatened with an empty conscious on the matter. “Just to make it spicy. Stir it up a bit,” you joshed.

He groaned, making you smirk. “You’re playing with fire,” he mumbled.

Tag List:

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @chxrrymilkshake @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu @theholycakehole @itgetsatadhazy

[wisteriashouse]

irresistible.

pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x reader

genre: fluff, nsfw, fuck or die troupe (i can’t believe i did this)

word count: 5015

remarks: a commission by the lovely @sburbanjumble​!! i hope you enjoy sweet and spicy kyoujurou <3 this is a rewrite of desire, but if kyoujurou were the one hit by the demon instead!

This demon is unlike any other you’ve ever faced before.

“Kyoujurou, follow up on my attack!” You shout as you press forward with your blade, putting all your strength in your arms as you aim for the demon’s neck. Eyes widening as your nichirin blade descends in a gleaming arc, the demon barely manages to throw up her arms in time to shield herself, and there’s a couple of wet thumps as her limbs fall to the grass, sliced clean off by your sword. Behind you, Kyoujurou leaps down, his sword held high as he swings.

“Flame Breathing, Third Form, Blazing Universe!”

You have to leap out of the way to dodge the shockwaves from Kyouojurou’s strike, so powerful that you feel the ground under your feet tremble for a second. Unfortunately for the both of you, the demon is just as fast as well - before Kyoujurou’s sword can cut clean through her neck, she vanishes in a cloud of sickly smelling smoke.

Your eyes dart around the darkness of the forest, blade already held up in an offensive stance for the slightest signal to attack, but Kyoujurou lands nimbly in front of you, holding out one hand to pull you back and the other gripping his own sword tight.

“We still don’t know what her abilities are or what her smoke does. Don’t be too hasty,” he warns you, voice low. Adrenaline is still pumping through your veins, but at your partner’s stern words, you force yourself to take a few breaths to calm yourself down. Breathe in, breathe out. Calm down.

“Okay, I got it.” Adjusting the grip on your sword once more, you let out a breath and hold up your blade. “I got caught up in the moment for a bit. Sorry about that.”

The battle hardened expression on Kyoujurou’s face breaks for just a second to beam at you warmly, and its familiarity puts you at ease. “It’s no problem,” Kyoujurou smiles. “You know I’ve always got your back no matter what-” his eyes widen for a split second at something behind you. “Watch out!”

Out of nowhere, however, five shining claws erupt out of the shadows straight towards you - only your reflexes, honed from years of training, allow you to dodge by jumping back right in time, the trace of a sickly sweet scent tickling your nose. Its regeneration speed is fast. Behind you, Kyoujurou slashes at the demon once more, but it vanishes into the darkness of the forest before the blade can connect. Disoriented and senses thrown into disarray by the sudden attack, you almost don’t notice fangs bared at you until it’s too late.

“[name]!” There’s a forceful tug on your arm and you’re sent stumbling forward a few steps, clouds of fuschia pink smoke erupting into the air right where you’d been standing less than a second ago. You’re left coughing and hacking as a sickly fragrance, but through the murky haze clouding your mind, you remember Kyoujurou, who was left standing in the spot that you’d been in prior.

“Kyoujurou!” Gripping your sword tightly with one hand and waving the residue smoke away from your face with the other, your eyes dart about the clearing, searching for Kyoujurou. “Are you alright?”

You find Kyoujurou surrounded by thick clouds of smoke and his hands clasped over his mouth, the demon responsible for it all cackling madly as she raises her claws, pointed tips glinting in the dim light of the moon. Before she can bring them down, however, you lunge forward with your blade with a forward strike, the tip of your blade piercing clean through her shoulder and pinning her against a tree. The pained scream that she lets out must have been heard for miles around.

You take this brief moment to glance back at Kyoujurou, heart hammering wildly in your chest with concern. “Kyoujurou, are you alright?” You call, voice urgent. Kyoujurou does not reply, instead shaking his head firmly as he hunches over, clearly in discomfort. Poison, perhaps? Anxiety floods through you, but you steel yourself and turn back to the demon.

“What did your smoke do to him?”

The demon only laughs at your demand, even as blood trickles down the wound on her shoulder. “Did you really think I would tell you? Think again! As if I would ever tell an accursed demon slayer like you-”

Gripping your sword by the handle, you wrench it with all your might and the demon lets out another shriek of agony, so shrill you can feel your ears ringing. “Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time,” you say icily, teeth gritted. While you take no pleasure in causing another creature’s pain, even demons, there’s only so much dallying you can take when Kyoujurou is suffering behind you. “Tell me, and I will speed your passing. If not...” You raise your sword in a wordless warning.

It is brief, but you catch the faintest flicker of fear in the demon’s eyes as she stares up at you. For good measure, you tighten your grip on your sword once more, ready to drive it into her flesh a second time, but she speaks.

“Fine,” she spits, her glare so venomous you can almost feel it eating away at your skin. “My smoke causes an... arousal of the human senses, sending them into overdrive and consuming the mind. If that man doesn’t lie with someone...” her smile is fanged with wicked amusement, “his mind will go insane with lust and he’ll suffer in agonizing pain!”

At her words, your breath is caught in your throat. As much as you want to say that all demons do is lie, from the look in her eyes to the triumphant grin on her blood stained lips, all the signs say that she is telling the truth. Unfortunately, you don’t have the time nor luxury to ponder over this too much, not when every second counts now.

“Then, just as I promised.” Yanking your sword from her flesh, you decapitate her with one swift strike - too fast for her to even let out another scream. Even before her severed head has hit the ground, you’re already running to Kyoujurou’s side, the man having sagged to his knees and only kept upright by the sword he’s driven into the ground to use as a crutch. Crouching next to him, you support his weight as gently as you can, but the heat radiating off his skin takes you by surprise. “Kyoujurou, you’re burning up!”

“I… I’m sorry,” Kyoujurou barely manages to make out between laboured breaths, his face twisted from the discomfort. Quickly, you raise a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, but his hand latches onto your wrist before you can so much as touch his bare skin. He’s trembling faintly, as hard as he tries to conceal it from you, and it almost scares you to see him like this. “Don’t… Not when I’m like this. You should probably leave.”

“What?” You hiss at him, equal parts angry and baffled. “This isn’t a matter of pride, Kyoujurou! I know that you’re a Pillar, but you’ll most definitely not be fine like this. We need to get you to the nearest village, then we can think about what we can do from there. Maybe they’ll have strong enough painkillers that will be able to knock you out for a while, or something to help alleviate the pain-”

“The nearest village is at least a day’s travel from here,” Kyoujurou cuts you off, shaking his head urgently. “And besides, it’s not safe for you to be here with me right now.” You catch him glancing at you for a second before his gaze leaves you, but is that a hint of… desire you see flickering in his eyes? “The state the demon has put my body in is an unprecedented one… I don’t know what I’ll do to you like this. It would be safer if you put some distance between the two of us… I can already feel it growing worse.”

At his words, you frown in confusion for a moment before realisation descends upon you. So that’s what the demon had meant by arousal of the senses…

“But I can’t just leave you like this,” you begin to protest, anxious, but Kyoujurou waves you off.

“I’ll be fine.” Even though he’s the one in this state, he’s still trying to reassure you. “The blood demon art should wear off when dawn comes, so I need only endure this,” he shudders, body tensing up for a second, “until morning. There’s no need for you to worry.”

Even as Kyoujurou says these words, you can see his body starting to shake almost violently, his jaw clenched so hard that you can see the veins protruding along the side of his neck. It just makes you feel even worse when you remember that he had only gotten into this situation trying to save you, or else your roles would be reversed right now. Sunrise is still hours away. Chewing on your bottom lip, you force yourself to concentrate. Think, think, think! What did the demon say about his condition earlier?

If that man doesn’t lie with someone…

You falter for a moment. By lie, she can’t possibly have meant…

There’s no other meaning for the word lie that can be applied in this context, is there?

You glance worriedly at Kyoujurou, but the man only shakes his head. He must have heard the demon’s words from earlier and already made up his mind, without so much as consulting you, no less. Stupid, selfless, self sacrificing Kyoujurou. When will he learn to put himself before others for a change? Does he have any idea how you’ll feel leaving him to suffer like this until sunrise comes, all while knowing that you could have done something to fix this?

For some reason, that thought only frustrates you to no end, and making up your mind with that, you reach for the top button of your uniform.

Before you can begin undoing your shirt, however, Kyoujurou’s hand grips latches around your wrist, so hard you can almost feel the beginning of bruises forming on your skin. Kyoujurou is always careful whenever it comes to you, so it’s a testament to the extent that the blood demon art has affected him, his self control slipping away with each passing second. When you look up at him questioningly, his brow is furrowed with confusion, lips parted.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You hiss back, but you can feel your own fingers trembling slightly from the nerves. “If you… lie with me, it should relieve the pain brought about by the demon’s blood art. Friends would do this for each other, wouldn’t they?”

Would they, though? The thought just makes you uncomfortable, so you simply shrug it aside. You can think about that after you’ve solved Kyoujurou’s problem. However, Kyoujurou’s answer takes you by surprise.

“I cannot,” Kyoujurou says immediately, voice so firm you’re taken by surprise for a second. Is he perhaps worried about your discomfort? In comparison to the pain he seems to be in now, body wracked with shivers and teeth gritted so hard you can almost hear his jaw creak, it will be nothing.

“I really don’t mind,” you begin to say, but Kyoujurou cuts you off once more.

“No.”

“Kyoujurou, this is not the time to be stubborn,” you try to shrug him off, but the grip he has on your wrist is too tight. Frustrated, you glare up at Kyoujurou. You want to help him, but you can’t do anything if he insists on being like this. “Why do you reject me? Is it because I’m not good enough for you? To the point that you’d prefer to suffer like this?”

The more you shout, the more frustrated you feel, tears starting to escape the corners of your eyes. His rejection does sting, yes, but more than that is the helplessness you feel when you see him in pain, yet are unable to do anything to alleviate it.

“So you’re telling me to just walk away?” You continue to shout, voice breaking. Your throat feels thick. “Well, curse it, Kyoujurou, I can’t just do something like that. I-”

A gentle pressure on your lips cuts your words off, and you look up in surprise through wet lashes to see Kyoujurou’s finger pressed against your mouth to silence you. There’s a conflicted expression on his face, caught between a pained frown and a tender smile.

“Don’t say that,” he rasps quietly, managing a smile to comfort you even through his own pain. “You shouldn’t give your body so easily to me... it should be saved for the person that you want to give your heart to. Didn’t you tell me before that… there’s someone who you hold feelings for?”

You stare at him in shock. Why is he still thinking about something like this even now? And besides…

“I cannot possibly let you do that knowing that you have feelings for someone else,” Kyoujurou continues. He’s struggling to get the words out now, his breaths shallow. “So, there is no need to worry about me, I assure you that I will be fine-”

“What if,” your words come out a whisper, “I told you that someone is you?”

For a moment, nothing but those words hang in the silence between the two of you. Kyoujurou’s eyes are wide with shock, but you force yourself to hold his gaze, unwilling to back down. You’re determined to convey every bit of genuinity in your heart and make it known - perhaps the demon was in fact a blessing in disguise that created the circumstance to put aside your cowardice and reveal your true feelings to him now.

“I understand if you don’t return my feelings,” you say firmly, before Kyoujurou can say a word. “However, I too, assure you… that doing this with you…” it feels strange, saying it out loud like this, “it wouldn’t be a bad thing… to me at least. So please, let me help you.”

Kyoujurou is still staring at you, but then he lets out a pained groan and crumples over, unable to keep himself upright any longer. Frantic, you race over to help him up, but the second you touch him, you feel a pair of hands grip your waist before the entire night sky above seems to flip over your head. The next thing you know, you’re on your back in the grass, Kyoujurou straddling your hips. You can’t see the expression on his face, his breath ghosting the side of your neck.

You swallow, but raise a hand to rest it on the top of his head comfortingly. “You okay, Kyoujurou?”

“Ahh… this wasn’t how I wanted to do this,” Kyoujurou murmurs against the shell of your ear, and you almost yelp when you feel teeth roughly scrape the delicate skin.

“W-what, what do you mean?”

“It should have started with my confession,” your momentary shock is cast aside when you feel a large hand sliding up your side, up your ribs to the collar of your uniform shirt, playing at the top button as if to distract himself. “I would have brought you out to dinner, perhaps some flowers… and yet here we are, doing everything backwards. On the forest floor, no less. It is not the place I would have chosen for our first time together.”

All you can manage is a laugh, something akin to warmth burning in your chest as quiet joy overflows. “As long as it’s with you, I don’t mind,” you whisper. Taking his hand, you place it firmly against the top of your collar, the brass of your button cool against your joined hands. “So please, Kyoujurou.”

You can feel it, the deep breath he takes before he descends, mouth kissing along the bare skin of your neck while his hand deftly undoes the buttons of your uniform. Before you have time to be nervous, Kyoujurou’s lips are already on the slope of your collarbones, nipping and sucking lightly as you gasp. “Beautiful,” he whispers against your skin, and you have to fight back your blush.

As your top slips off your shoulders, leaving you exposed to his gaze, you shiver slightly as the cold of the night air leaves goosebumps on your skin. Kyoujurou, ever attentive, notices right away. “Don’t worry,” his fingers trail down your side, before they’re replaced by his lips, hot against your bare skin. The sensation is foreign, a little ticklish even, but strangely welcome, and you have to try not to squirm. “I’ll warm you up in a moment.”

His hands tug at the buckle of your belt even as he continues to map out your body with his mouth, leaving little bruises and marks on you. They sting pleasantly, and with each new one Kyoujurou adds to your skin, you fight back a little moan at the feeling, pressing your legs together to alleviate the strange ache there. Although the night is cool, you feel hot, burning up together with Kyoujurou as he makes good on his promise to warm you up. Perhaps the demon’s blood art is contagious? You wouldn’t mind...

There’s a metallic clink, and the belt around your waist loosens before it slides off you, falling to the ground with a soft thump. Your uniform pants follow soon after, slipped down your legs together with your undergarments, and it’s then you feel cool air brushing against you right there.

Suddenly shy, you press your thighs together, unable to bear the way Kyoujurou’s eyes rake over your body almost hungrily. Still, for all his desire, he remains patient with you, coaxing your legs open carefully with a gentle touch that you can’t help but obey. Fingers skimming up your legs, first from your ankles up to the crook of your knee and finally to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, you bite back a whimper the closer his touch comes to where you need it most.

Slowly, almost carefully, Kyoujurou runs the tip of his fingers along your damp folds and you shudder, the seemingly light touch intensifying ten fold and sending little shockwaves of pleasure down your body. It feels strange, but your body chases it of its own accord, pressing against his hand in a silent plea for more.

“Does it feel good?” Kyoujurou whispers, and you nod urgently. Anything to get rid of that aching, sudden emptiness in you.

“Please,” your voice comes out as a whine, and if you weren’t so aroused you would be mortified by how needy you sound. Isn’t it supposed to be Kyoujurou who is affected by the demon’s spell? “Touch me, Kyoujurou.”

“Mmm, don’t be impatient,” his thumb rubs circles over you, its glide made effortless by the slick now coating his fingers. The pressure relieves you for a second before an even more intense need crashes hot on its heels, unrelenting. When you whine again, all composure now thrown to the wind, Kyoujurou bites his lip and probes, his finger parting your folds to sink into you slowly. Your gasp catches in your throat, and all you can do is let your head fall back as your walls tighten around him, as if trying to keep him inside you.

“More,” you plead, nearly begging him now. One finger isn’t nearly enough, and Kyoujurou proceeds to press another into you even as you squirm on his fingers. A short, bitten off moan escapes you when he starts to move his fingers at a leisurely pace, pumping them in and out of you with an obscene squelching sound. “Kyoujurou, don’t tease.”

“I need to make sure I don’t hurt you,” you tremble under him when he begins to scissor you carefully, making sure to stretch you out so that you’ll be able to take him more easily later. Eager for more but unable to complain, you move your hips towards his hands so that his fingers can press deeper into you, shuddering when his fingers crook against a certain spot. Reaching up, you curl your hands at the nape of his neck and tugging him down towards you so that you can kiss him.

His tongue licks into your mouth, hot and wet, as his fingers still continue to move in you. Arching your back in an attempt to draw closer to him, you suck on his tongue lightly and Kyoujurou lets out a groan, a rumble from deep within his chest.

“Ready, ready,” you break the kiss to tell him, helplessly fucking yourself on his fingers. Pleasure sets every nerve ending alight, from the tips of your fingers to your toes. “Please, Kyoujurou.”

Kyoujurou’s eyes gleam, but you too, can see how badly he needs it. He’s trembling, almost feverishly now, but still he manages a smile as he looks down at you. “Always so impatient with me,” he dips down to plunder your mouth once more, rough and forceful this time, curling his fingers in you and causing you to pant into his mouth. This draws a slight laugh out of him. His fingers slip out of you, and you let out a long, keening whine in complaint.

“Don’t worry,” he squeezes your thigh and you shiver at the look in his eyes. “I promise I won’t leave you wanting.”

Even through the feeling of Kyoujurou’s body on yours and his lips of your skin, you faintly hear the clink of a belt being undone. A moan of anticipation leaves you, and you can’t help but part your legs in response. You need more, more to alleviate the burning ache in you that just doesn’t seem to abate.

Something presses against your entrance, hard and heavy, and your hips press against it involuntarily, demanding more. To your confusion, Kyoujurou doesn’t enter you immediately, instead taking a moment to run his length up and down your folds, and you let out a pathetic little moan when he denies you. Kyoujurou laughs, but it’s rougher, lower this time.

“Impatient,” he repeats, leaning over you. You look up at him pleadingly, sure that tears are gathering in the corner of your eyes from how badly you need it, but Kyoujurou leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Tell me you want it.”

You gape at him, words leaving you for a second at his sudden demand. “Wha-”

“I need to know that you want this as much as I do.” Kyoujurou’s hands trace the spot over your heart, littered with bruises that will probably turn into dark red blooms tomorrow morning. “Tell me with your own words and your mouth that you want this.”

“I-” You flush, biting your bottom lip in embarrassment. The words feel almost shameful on your tongue, but you remind yourself that this is Kyoujurou. “I…” Your voice comes out hushed, barely above a whisper. “I want you, Kyoujurou. I really do.”

Kyoujurou smiles in response, kissing you gently. His hands slide down to your knees, parting your legs and coaxing them to wrap around his waist, which you obey immediately. That’s when you feel him begin to press into you, parting your folds and slowly sinking into you. At first, the stretch is still bearable, but the further he slides into you, you can’t help but let out a little cry as you stretch more to accommodate his length.

“Too much?” Kyoujurou presses kisses to your hair, the crown of your head. You shake your head determinedly, tightening the hold your legs have around his waist.

“N-no, keep going,” you say, clinging to his form. Kyoujurou looks over you with concern in his eyes, before he nips comfortingly on your lower lip.

“You can bite down on me if you want,” he whispers, kissing the side of your neck. “I’ll try to be gentle.”

With those words, he begins moving again, and you fight back another sob as he stretches you open further. Unable to stand the pain, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, teeth latching onto his shoulder. True to his word, Kyoujurou doesn’t even flinch when your teeth break his skin. Instead, he only rubs soothing circles into the bare skin of your thigh in a silent bid to comfort.

You’re no stranger to pain, and you’ve trained in many ways to dull it in your years as a demon slayer. Taking a deep breath, you focus your mind and instruct your body to relax, allowing Kyoujurou to slip deeper into you. After a few moments, the pain begins to abate, and you carefully regulate your breathing before you grip his hand tight.

He glances down at you and you nod wordlessly. With a gentle squeeze of your hip, Kyoujurou begins to move once more, and although the ache still lingers, it has already started to dull, replaced by that feeling of fullness that you had experienced earlier with Kyoujurou’s fingers in you, only this time magnified a hundredfold.

When he finally sinks in you all the way to the hilt, you pause for a moment to adjust to the near overwhelming feeling of being filled so completely, busying yourself with sucking marks into Kyoujurou’s neck like he’d done for you earlier. Kyoujurou groans lowly in his throat, murmuring words of encouragement with each mark you leave on his skin - he seems pleased about it. When your teeth latch on to the lobe of his ear, Kyoujurou begins pulling out of you, much to your despair, but before you can whine about it once more, Kyoujurou slams back into you with a smooth, forceful thrust, and your words turn into nothing more than a choked gasp trapped in your throat.

After that, he doesn’t give you a second to breathe, hips pistoning in you with fervour, and all you can do is lie back and take it, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Kyoujurou runs his mouth over your shoulder, your forehead, your collarbone. Faintly, you feel Kyoujurou’s hand work its way between your bodies, coming to a stop at where your bodies are joined. Before you can ask what he’s doing, his fingers slip down to worry your clit roughly and you let out a cry, nails digging into the skin at his back and arms as you cling to him. Kyoujurou hums, a pleased, satisfied sound and only redoubles his efforts, causing your body to tremble with sensation.

The pleasure builds up in you, almost overwhelming, a wave of pleasure surging straight for you. Before you can warn Kyoujurou, it crashes over you and a high pitched sob works its way out of your throat, your body trying to curl up on itself as if that will alleviate the intensity that’s overtaking your body. Above you, you distantly register Kyoujurou’s low groan as his thrusts lose their rhythm before he pulls out of you completely, something warm splattering on your thigh.

Too tired to form words, you simply hold out your arms and Kyoujurou instantly moves into them, tugging you into his hold so that you can rest your head on his shoulder. Already, you can feel the beginnings of an ache in your legs and arms, and from what the older demon slayers have told you before, your… abdomen would probably feel the same way as well tomorrow. Still, you think, looking up at Kyoujurou’s flushed but content face, you think that this was completely worth it.

A gentle kiss to your temple pulls you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see Kyoujurou with a slight smile on his face as he gazes down at you. “Are you feeling alright? I might have been a bit too rough there.” His fingertips trace your bare shoulders, the love bites at your neck, and finally your lips. You shake your head, content to go limp against him as he cradles you carefully.

“No, I’m fine.” Glancing up at him, you wonder if the flush on his cheeks is from the earlier exertion or if he’s still affected by the demon’s spell. You try to raise a hand, but overestimate your strength - your hand falls back to your lap before it can even reach halfway to his forehead. Still, Kyoujurou only picks up your own hand with his and presses it to his forehead for you, and you’re relieved to find out that although his body temperature is running warm, it’s nothing like the unnatural heat that had been burning him up from before. “It’s good that you’re alright now.”

“[name]...” The solemnity of Kyoujurou’s voice takes you by surprise. When you glance at him, you see him looking at you with a slightly furrowed brow, hesitation flickering in his golden eyes. “The words you spoke earlier, about the person that you had feelings for being me… was that the truth?”

You blink at him, slightly confused. Had you not been genuine enough with your feelings earlier? Determined to put this doubt to rest, you grab him by the cheeks with a strength that you certainly didn’t have earlier, pulling him close so that your foreheads are pressed against each other’s and you can feel his breath dancing over your skin.

“You, yes you.” You repeat, punctuating each word with a kiss to his lips, which helplessly turn up in a smile under your affections. You can’t help the smile on your face that mirrors his own, his happiness palpable and all too contagious. “I can’t believe that it took a situation like this for me to confess. You better make it up to me, you hear me?”

Kyoujurou laughs, nuzzling your neck. “Okay, okay. The sequence is out of order now but,” he smiles at you, “how about I bring you out to dinner? My treat, of course.”

You have to press your face against his shoulder to hide your smile.

“That sounds lovely.”

[wormstacheangel]

Happy Birthday, Bec ( @chocolatecakecas)! Have some momma Dean and Daddy Cas get together :)

wc: 2.5k

Dean holds the preschool’s scrunched-up flyer in his hand before letting out a heavy sigh. He never thought he would ever celebrate Mother’s Day again, and he especially never thought that he would be the mother who would be celebrated.

He begged Cas not to make him do this, but it wasn’t Cas who he was afraid to disappoint.

Dean stuffed the paper back into his pocket before walking over to the front office to check-in for this Muffin with Mom event. He talked to the school beforehand to check if it was okay for him to show up to this event, but they already knew he was ‘Momma’ to Jack, so they saw it coming. Of course, they did but Dean sure as fuck didn’t.

He walks into the office and follows the signs that lead outside to the big grass area that transformed from a play area to a nicely decorated picnic area. Everything was pink, from the flowers to the plastic table cloths, but it didn’t feel too overwhelming because they were outside. His eyes spotted the small photo op area, and he couldn’t wait to get some cute pictures of him and Jack so Cas can add to his album.

At least that would be worth the embarrassment.

Dean joined some of the familiar faces of the sea of ladies that crowded the classroom doors—waiting for the kids to be let loose and get this party finally started. He smiles and waves at them, knowing them from pick up and playdate parties at their homes.

Dean and Cas know they can never host one at their home in the lakehouse cause while the outside has invisible warding, the inside looked like a crazy person lived in there. It was a heavily warded place that hides them for a good few miles to any supernatural monster— angels included, so it’s a good thing Cas knows how to use google maps or he would always skip their street— but the inside Jack was free to let his wings out and practice his powers.

“Okay!” He looks up to see Jack’s classroom open up. “Go find your Moms!”

He walks closer, seeing little rugrats running past him, and crouches until he meets the gaze of his little angel. “Hiya, bud!”

“Momma!” Jack shouts as he sprints to him and then jumps into Dean’s arms, almost knocking him back with his strength. Jack snuggles into Dean’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around his neck, staying locked in place as Dean stands up.

“Why are you surprised? Told you I was gonna come.” Dean rubs his hand up and down his back as they follow the group of moms to line up for the food. Other classes start to open up, and Dean at least wanted something to damn snack on while he’s here.

“I know.” Jack pulls back and presses Dean’s cheeks together with his little hands, and luckily with none of his strength. “I was just scared.”

“Why?” Dean asks with puckered lips.

“Cause,” Jack sighs before leaning back down to rest his head on Dean’s shoulder. His tiny fist is holding the collar of his jacket in a tight grip. “I know you’re not a Momma like the other Momma’s.”

Dean’s stomach drops at the words.

He quickly got out of line and went inside his now empty classroom so they can talk. Dean hates these tiny chairs, but he sat down anyway, hoping it won’t break from under him, before pulling Jack away to face him.

“Jack,” He was stubborn, but a little tickling always did the trick. Dean takes Jack’s face in between his hands so he would look at him. “I am not like the other Momma’s, but I am still yours. That’s why I’m here, right?”

Jack nods, a small smile on his face that was a carbon copy of Cas’s own.

“I better be, cause I heard you owe me a muffin!” Dean leans forward to gently bite Jack’s cheek, who giggles and screams while he pushed Dean away with child strength.

“Stop! Momma!” Jack laughs before Dean showers his face with kisses so that he could see the pout leave and a bright grin appear. One that made Dean love life so much more than he ever thought he could.

“Love you.” Dean places a final kiss on Jack’s nose. Only for Jack to copy him and repeat, “Love you.”

They went back outside and had to go to the back of the line, but with Jack in his arms, he was perfectly content. He loves hearing his little four-year-old ramble on while telling a story.

When they got their food—a muffin and some damn apple juice, he’s going to have to take Jack to lunch after this—they went to sit at a crowded table that was calling for Dean to join them. Usually, everyone enjoys Cas’s company a lot more than his, but right now, they had Dean to play with, and he didn’t mind getting the attention of all the milf’s in school.

He sat down in the middle of the table with Jack on his lap so Dean can make sure his kid at least eats a bit of the muffin before running around with the rest of his friends. The whole mommy and me event just became a big chance for mommy’s to gossip, and he couldn’t help but wanna be a part of it.

They were all talking about a Mom who didn’t show up and instead sent the babysitter when Jack finally got inpatient and ran off to play with his friends. When Jack was out of earshot, all eyes fell on Dean when he stuffed almost half a muffin in his mouth. He looks at them with raised eyebrows, asking them a silent, “What?” as their smiles spelled trouble for Dean.

“We heard from the secretary that you and Castiel aren’t together...together.” Liz whispers the last word as she leaned closer to him.

“That’s not a secret.” Dean swallows the rest of the muffin and finishes off the apple juice. “Cas and me are friends.”

“Really?” Carmen sat back in her chair, looking as if the universe didn’t make sense anymore. All eyes fell on Liz again, as if she was chosen to be the ring leader to ask all these questions.

“But you guys talk about each other like—I was gonna say like I talk about my husband, but that’s not true. I complain more than anything, but you two are always--you’re like a team. Like an actual team! And the way--the way you look at each other!”

“Okay,” Dean clears his throat, feeling his face heat up. “I don’t know what you are getting at, but Cas and I are best friends. We’re just raising his kid together. My brother helps too. It’s not-It’s just not like that with us.”

“But, do you want it to be?” Carmen leans in again, and Dean looks around at the milf’s that thought Cas and him were a married couple. “Cause it kinda looks like you want it to be.”

Dean opened his mouth to answer defensively cause, of course, he didn’t. He was perfectly fine living his domestic life with Cas and Jack. Maybe they were not a traditional family, but there was no damn way they would ever be with ⅔ of the family being celestial beings. Still, going to bed alone was getting harder each night. The longing stares have become heavier, and all the missed opportunities were starting to weigh on him.

He wanted so much more, but how can he ask for that when this is already the happiest he has ever been and the happiest he has ever seen Cas. He can’t risk making it awkward by expressing his feelings that may not be reciprocated. That’s fucking embarrassing for one, but Dean also didn’t want to risk losing the closest thing he has ever gotten to having a family of his own.

“It’s not that simple.” Dean finally groaned as he ran his hand through his hair. “Things are complicated between us.”

“Well, uncomplicate them!” Liz hits his arm to grab Dean’s attention before he falls back into his head.

“Mommy! Come watch me on the swings!” One of the kids call for them, and all the rest of the kids came running over, Jack included. But by the look of Jack’s face, Dean can tell the superhearing was working perfectly fine.

“Come here, bud.” Dean opens his arms, and while the rest of the mothers got up to watch their kid play, Jack stayed curled up in Dean’s arms as they finish their muffins together.

“Momma?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“We’re a real family, right?”

Dean presses a kiss to Jack’s hair. “Course we are, Jack. Me and your Daddy love you.”

“And you love each other?” He looks up at Dean with those same piercing blue eyes and curious look that he found so fond in Cas.

“Always have.” Dean quickly answers as he squeezes his kid. “Now eat so we can take some pictures.”

Dean ends up taking Jack home, with the preschool arts and crafts presents in the passenger seat, because maybe Dean does have to get his head out of his ass. Cause Dean knows Cas loves him. Was it the same kind of love Dean felt? Who knows? But they are going to find out.

“We’re just gonna pick up Daddy and go out to get some real food in you. Got it, bud?” Dean looks over at the rearview mirror to see a thumbs up and an excited grin.

“Got it, Momma!”

When Dean parks the car outside, he told Jack to wait in the car—the kid can turn on the car and play with the radio with his mind, he’ll be fine— while he went inside to tell Cas to get ready.

“I’m home!” Dean called out as soon as he was in the house and then hears an “In here!” coming from the bathroom. He walks in to see Cas was under the bathroom sink, all the cleaning products spread around him, probably fixing that leak that was bothering him so much.

“Hey,” Dean kicks him gently to get his attention before crouching beside him. “Go get ready. I have Jack in the car; let’s go have some lunch.”

Cas scooted out from under the sink, and when he sat up, his face was only inches away from Dean’s own. He looked utterly unphased from being so close while Dean’s breath hitched at feeling Cas’s sigh touch his lips.

“I don’t even eat, Dean.” Cas wipes his hands on a towel before pushing himself up to stand. Dean took a shaky breath before he stands up too. “And why did you take Jack from school so early?”

Dean follows Cas out of the bathroom and into Cas’s bedroom, “You eat sometimes and cause I wanted to have some family time.” Dean sits at Cas’s bed as he watches the angel change into a clean shirt, his back muscles as beautiful as usual. “And I just, I think we should talk.”

Cas turns around to look at Dean with a curious head tilt. “About?”

Dean stood up to slowly walk over to Cas, not meeting his eyes, as he whispers, “Us.” Dean can see Cas start to look panic at the word, and before Cas could say anything, Dean leans forward to press his lips at the corner of Cas’s mouth. “I wanna know how you feel about us.”

Cas stood wide-eyed as Dean pulls away. He waits for an answer, but the angel was just staring at him with fingers twitching to reach and hold something. Dean took Cas’s hand and twined their fingers together; hopefully, that is what Cas wanted.

“I know we’re just playing pretend here,” Dean continues as he looks down at their hands. “But I’m tired of playing, Cas. I want, fuck okay, shit, I just-- I want to-I want,”

“Yes?” Cas leans in closer, urging Dean to continue, but Dean wasn’t sure he could, so he looks up to see Cas lick those soft lips.

He knows he wasn’t good at using his words, but he has always been good at showing, doing, so he lets out a quiet, “Fuck it.” Before letting actions speak.

His free hand went to the back of Cas’s neck to hold him as their lips crashed together. Dean knew Cas could pull away whenever he wanted with his angel strength, but he also knew Cas was letting Dean take the lead in this. Letting Dean push him up against the dresser and kiss him with panic but also so much love. Cause he loves him. He loves Cas. He was so fucking in love with him that it drove him crazy at times, but he couldn’t imagine doing this domestic life with anybody else.

“I love you.” Dean finally breaths against Cas’s lips. It overwhelmed him to finally have those words said aloud while Cas’s hands were burning his skin from under his shirt, but it also made him feel lighter. To say the words he wanted to scream. “I love you so much, Cas.”

Cas’s grip loosened for a second before it tightened, and Dean took that opportunity to open his eyes to look at him. To read the unreadable.

He leans back to see Cas’s baby blue’s water.

“Cas?”

Cas responds with a few blinks, tears falling freely now, as his expression softens at his name. “Yes?” One of Cas’s hands reached to slowly caress Dean’s face as if trying to see if this was real. If Dean was real.

“Kinda pouring my heart out here, buddy, maybe wanna respond?” Dean turns his head just enough to press a kiss to Cas’s palm, hearing Cas let out a small gasp.

“I’m confused. This morning you left telling me you were gonna kick my ass for sending you to the preschool, and now,” Cas leans forward, slowly and hesitantly, but Dean didn’t move. He closes his eyes and waits until their lips met again. Feeling his heart pound and breath catch as the kiss was softer this time. His head flooded with so much want, but Cas quickly pulls away as he continued, “And now I can do that.”

“Yeah,” Dean’s eyes flutter open as he clears his throat. “Yeah, Momma had a little push from the milf’s this morning, and I just realized that I want— I want you. I want us to be together like a real family. Cause I love you and-and, it would be nice if you fucking said it back sometime soon.”

Cas laughs a low chuckle that made Dean’s toes curl as he leans forward again to press their noses together. “I love you too, Dean.”

“Took you long enough.” Dean was going in for another kiss, but the car horn made them both jump. “Shit, our kid still in the car.”

Dean leaves a kiss on Cas’s cheek, feeling more intimate than the last few kisses. “Get ready. I’ll wait for you in the car.” Dean didn’t meet Cas’s eyes as his blush rose to his cheeks.

Tag List: hello this is long enough to tag you guys :)

@tearsofgrace @nguyenxtrang @smiledean @chocolatecakecas

@blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @shelikestv @spicyspiess @icefire149

@archervale @starlightcastiel @sierraxnevada

@lexies-obsessions-and-memes @castiel-is-a-cat @slipper007

@belacoded @takemetotheworld @imlivingliferightnow

@celestialcastiel @manifestingdestiel @sinnabonka

@confusedisaster @wikiangela @carryonwaywardsquirrel

@my-people-skillls-are-rusty @thefaeriemagic3 @wigglebox

@im-sam-fucking-winchester @becky-srs @thefantasyfiend

@deanwinchesterstentaclefetish @achillestiel @sarahblakenatural

@likepurplemuses @marichankitty @castielkrushnic @bestiegirlboss

@martymar1963 @destielfactory @mjthehumandisaster

@misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @destielskygalaxypalace

@trasherasswood @s-r-clowns @eshaninjer

@readeroftheimmortalbooks

[cozycryptidcorner]

Howl

 Werewolf/Reader, lemon, heat cycles, consensual aphrodisiacs

Every six months I release a short from my $5 patreon tier to the general public, and someone’s favorite word was coincidently the title of this piece. Please enjoy this little slice of madness beneath a full moon.   

The moon hangs heavy overhead, a pale, watchful face gazing down at the ritual laid out at her feet. You kneel, washed in her gentle light, your eyes on the fire as a clan elder carefully places an ingredient within a kettle. Crickets scream and wail in the surrounding woods, but you barely pay them any mind as your lover places a pale hand on your knee, rubbing a circle with his thumb as he bites at his lip. You try not to acknowledge his worrying much, if he hadn’t paid any attention to your reassurances earlier, he won’t now.

The potion that the elder boils down smells sickly sweet, like a peppermint cough syrup, but with a stinging bite that sends bright little pricks through your nostrils as you breathe it in. Already without drinking it, you can feel a vibrant thrumming begin to pulse in your blood, a spark of warmth filling your veins. It doesn’t take much longer for her to finish the spell, a soft humming emanating from your lover’s fellow clansman resounding as the elder pours it into a carved wooden chalice.

Then, with one last kiss, your lover stands, moving to the opposite side of the fire where the elder is and spits into the cup. The elder gives you the benefit of mixing the concoction further, singing in a familiar but incomprehensible language. Shivers run down your spine as she and her apprentice approach, their full ceremonial clothing jingling with their steps as they come to stand before you. In a sort of perversion of Catholic communion, the elder holds the chalice in your direction, and you gingerly grasp it as though it were made from impossibly thin glass.

You carefully ignore any sort of inhibitions you might have about the potion itself, drinking it down fast enough to not taste anything that might cause you to vomit it back up. With little respect, you carefully swallow the last gulp, trying to seal up your throat, so you’re not even tempted to give in to any sort of acid reflux, then allow yourself to breathe. At first, you don’t seem any different, but there’s a hard, boiling heat that suddenly wisps out from your stomach and right to your heart, and you think- you feel-

Your lover takes a step back into the forest, the shadows working to obscure him from your vision. Where- where is he going? Why was he leaving? You need him. With a flailing step, chalice dropping from your fingers and completely forgotten, you try to follow, but something fucking drags you back down to the ground. Pissed, you puff out hot, angry breathes, trying to wriggle your way out from the many people working to keep you from your lover, your mate, but it’s many against one, and they don’t let up.

Warm and soft soil cushions your shoulder and face as you fall violently forward, suddenly released, but you can’t fucking see him anymore and it’s killing you. Your heels dig into the earth as you wrench yourself up, choking back panicking tears as you bolt in the direction you saw him leave. The night sharpens as the world breathes in a deep inhale, the sky itself holding still in order to witness the carnal desperation you scream with.

You can smell him, his scent so much like the forest itself, of woodsmoke, of evergreen, a musky kind of fragrance that stands out in the acidic night air. And so you run towards it, faster than you’ve ever moved before in your life, ignoring the way the branches of the brush and trees scratch at your bare arms and the awkward sharpness of the ground as you ignore what your bare feet might be running over. An owl screams in the distance, but you are so keen on your prey that you ignore the call.

Instinct demands that you stop, so you do, skidding on the fallen leaves so sharply that your feet fly out from under you, landing on your hip hard enough to bruise. You feel no pain, only rancid frustration at the inconvenience gravity hinders you with, and you scramble back to a stand, growling with every breath. Where is he? Desperately trying to cling to your last strand of lucid sanity, you try to think, smelling the air once more, trying to find that same taste of male hormones that he had emanated so thickly before he fucking abandoned you.

You hear the water before you even realize you started moving again, a rush of wind caressing your face like the earth herself is aiding your hunt, as though she approves of this union. There, you can just make out the fading scent of your lover, though it grows fainter with every second wasted on thought. A brook runs its course, water slowly wearing millions of oddly shaped rocks down, several making for good stepping stones as you hop across, the splash of cold water managing to draw a bit of the feverish heat down.

Abruptly, you slow down, closing your eyes to smell and to listen. You think you have his direction, but the idea to ambush him as punishment for abandonment fills your body with the simmering ghost of pleasure. You go low immediately, staying close to the trunks of the trees as you quietly circle around the edge of a clearing. And you see him.

Everything inside your body goes full alert, sirens screaming in your head, heat filling your core, muscles tense. You bolt forward, so fast he doesn’t even have a moment to react before you’re on him, the force of your body ramming against him not only sufficient enough to knock him off his feet, but also enough to tip him over the edge of the hill he must have been thinking about going down.

The entire universe spins as you roll against him, grass, leaves, and twigs catching in your beaded embroidered dress, hair, even managing to knick at your skin. You don’t care, gods below you don’t, because as you slow to a stop at the bottom of the clearing, you have him beneath you, gasping for air, his dewy blue eyes glimmering beneath the stars as he regards you with a kind of emotion you don’t bother to process.

You kiss him so hard that your mouth hurts, teeth clacking together, and you’re thriving. Enraged growls snarl from your throat, and you would have ripped his clothes away if he didn’t painstakingly strip then and there. Touching his skin just barely aides in your desperately heated core from exploding, but there is so, so much more you want from him. You need to melt into him, to seep into every pore of his body, to claw his chest open and crawl inside, and he seems to take your furious affection in stride.

His skin is salty as you bite down in the crook of his shoulder, and by the way he keens at the pain, he seems to enjoy it. You press your teeth down closer to his neck if only to show him that he’s yours, and he won’t be running from you again. His hand rises to pet your hair back from your face when you finally deem him worthy of release. Even though you still see red after he tried to fucking abandon you, you’re not so angry that you don’t give those bite marks peppering kisses to make them better.

“I know,” he rasps, stroking the nape of your neck as you whine, “I know it hurts, I’m sorry I ran.”

You forgive him instantly, pressing your mouth and tongue against his in a desperate, heated kiss. Your lover knows immediately what to do, fingers reaching for the strings holding your ceremonial dress in place. It’s an easy thing to strip away, its sole purpose of being beautiful and easy to remove from heated bodies, and you are suddenly delightfully bare underneath the moon and stars. As you bend back down to ravage his chest and collarbone in a myriad of bites and kisses, you find with no small amount of delight that an erection begins to rise up against your thigh.

His hands press up gently to your breast, feeling you out as he has many times before, but you both would agree that this is… different. Better, even, despite the misery you feel because he’s not inside you yet. You kiss him again, gasping for breath on his mouth, as a hot, pinching need flitters through your body like the touch of a red-hot brand. That desire, that instinct swirling in your chest demands he must feel pleasure before you ride him like a goddamn stallion, so you are quick to get to work.

You begin to make a trail of purple and red hickies all along his stomach, sometimes biting hard enough for him to bruise just for the sensation of his flesh between your teeth. After a few moments of teasing him, you barely had the mind to do much more, you finally fall back to the pulsing member you crave so terribly. It takes you a few seconds to take it in, the contours and highlights curving along in the moonlight, long, thick, yours. After briefly contemplating where to start, you begin at the very tip.

He breathes out a shuddering gasp when you roll your tongue over the top of his cock, his fingers tangling in your hair. You feel a shuddering sense of satisfaction at his body’s response, then move down to the base. Up and down, you try to lick and kiss and give tiny sucks all across it as rhythmically and as pleasurably as you can, going deep and low just for the sake of watching him squirm pathetically. It doesn’t take him too long to be drawn to the edge, or perhaps it’s been an eternity, you don’t know, but he rides out his first orgasm in your mouth.

You come back up, mouth still lingering with the taste of his pleasure, and press your mouth against his in a lazier kiss. There’s a kind of mingling desperation boiling in your stomach, but the beast within you is satiated for a few moments at the sight of him becoming undone by your tongue. Your hand snakes back down to check on his steadily stiffening cock, just to see if he’s ready to take you yet. He still needs some more gentle teasing, so you settle down and offer up as many leisurely kisses as he needs to warm back up, while you’re just barely getting started.

He slides into you so effortlessly, your pussy is so wet that it engulfs him like a sheath specially made for him. And oh, god, or fuck, he feels so goddamn good that you start crying. Tears spring into your eyes, and he sits up to cradle you, whispering in your ear that you’re doing such a good job, that he’s so proud you’ve made it this far without cracking. That seasoned warriors do so much less, and you’re so fucking beautiful, wild, and unstoppable.

You suck in your breath, trying not to feel like you’re disappointing your lover, your mate at the show of such soft and fragile emotion, and you begin to grind. The feral need to be fucked slowly begins to disintegrate your sanity, what’s left of your lucidness drip, drip, dripping down into your core and burning into ash by the heat. You roll your neck around, gasping, whimpering, begging, screaming praises to him because he’s perfect, you’re mate is so fucking perfect, you want him inside you forever so you can spend eternity knowing this bliss.

And when your orgasm finally reaches its peak?

It feels like the sky itself shatters into a thousand pieces, raining down the stars, moon, and planets, your body almost evaporating into light as you cry out. Waves and rolls of fiercely bright pleasure curl through your body; you have to wrap yourself around your mate, or else you’re afraid you might break apart. He holds you, he whispers such sweet, soft things in your ears, coaching you through the orgasm to end all others, like he knows how perfect and majestic this one is.

You don’t even feel it when he cums, because the aftershocks are still clenching through your body as you try desperately to recover. He still remains strong, though, anchoring you to the earth as you almost sob with relief, even though he must be feeling that same kind of high you’re on. When it’s all over, he lays beside you, on the dewy grass that glitters in the moonlight, stroking your face until your fever finally breaks.

The next round of kisses are far more gentle and lovely than before, the unbearable hotness inside your core slowly evaporating away now that the spell ran its course. He holds you in his arms so tightly that you don’t think any force the earth mother can throw in your direction will break his grip.

“I love you,” he whispers, “so much. Thank you for experiencing this.”

“Is- is that what it’s like for you? Such madness, every time?” You ask, almost scared of the answer.

“Yes,” he confesses, “with you being the only thing on my mind.”

“That’s terrifying,” you whisper, stroking some of the pale hair from his eyes, “how do you manage?”

He gives you another kiss. “I have you.”