#he cleans her off every now and then with warm soapy water while shes asleep and it makes me miserable :[[

[websidian]

we die in the dark so that you may live in the light or something like that, idk

asked my friends on disc if they wanted icekat meetcute or Kat fucking dying

and they unanimously voted to make them miserable, so here they are

get sludged.

[lebenspurpur]

showering with the slashers

|Michael| (SFW)

You will need months to convince him to shower with you. He is surprisingly insecure and shy when it comes to nudity and especially taking off his mask. In the beginning he will even leave it on until he realizes that the steam plus the hot water are making it impossible to keep it on.

After he decides to join you he will ask for one every day. I mean he won't ask verbally he'll just stand in the bathroom when you shower until you invite him in.

Most of the time he will just place himself underneath the stream of water like a statue and let you shampoo his hair. If he's feeling generous, he will do the same for you and give you a little head massage. Michael will always use your soap since it smells like you but obviously this idiot won't ever admit that.

His favorite are showers in the evening because he adores laying in bed after a long, hot shower. Those are also one of the rare times where he actually allows cuddling.

|Vincent Sinclair| (SFW)

Vincent prefers bathing over showering. Though he won't say no to a shower.

It will definitely take him a while to gain the confidence to join you. In the beginning he'll turn his back towards you so you won't see his face. Show him love and appreciation and he might open up a little.

Vincent loves dealing with your hair. Obviously he has like 15 different hair products even though he rarely uses them. Now he can use them on you.

If you shampoo his hair he is in heaven. Imagine him underneath a stream of water lovingly gazing into your eyes while you softly trace his scalp with your fingertips. I love him, what can I say.

He will dry your hair himself and then gladly put lotion on your body. Such a sweetheart. Afterwards he likes cuddling while watching something together.

|Bo Sinclair| (NSFW)

You won't even notice when Bo enters the bathroom. He just suddenly stands behind you, arms wrapping around your upper body and his lips attached to your neck.

After a passionate make-out session he might wash your body. He likes to use his soap since that's a sign that you're his. As if the marks he leaves weren't enough.

Normally the shower is one of the rare places where he expresses his real emotions because nobody except for you will see them there. So expect lots of praising while his soapy, calloused hands trace your hips with such tenderness, you don't even recognize him.

Afterwards he'll either make you dirty again ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) or he'll lay on your chest, relaxing after a long day.

|Lester Sinclair| (SFW)

Yes Y/N, he'll gladly shower with you! He will take good care of you and that's a promise.

You'll always be glad when he showers with you since, let's be honest, he smells like rotten road kill. If your soft hands go over his scarred and exhausted body he cant' help but stare at you fondly.

I feel like Lester would try to make bubbles with soap in his hand. Or make a beard out of foam. He always tries to make you let out that adorable laugh of yours, what'd you expect?

After showering he'll wrap you up in his arms and tell you about his day. Whenever he chuckles about a funny memory a deep rumble can be felt in his chest. It never fails to make your heart grow warmer. As soon as you fall asleep he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and tucks you under the covers.

|Baby Firefly| (SFW)

Baby will always invite herself in the bathroom as soon as you're comfortable with that. Her soft hands will softly massage your shoulders and back and you can feel the knots and tight spots slowly relaxing.

But don't be foolish, she expects a massage as well. Baby values fairness so every action of her has a price. Not that you mind.

Baby's soap smells like cotton candy and fits her aesthetic wonderfully. Sometimes you'll steal a little bit for yourself.

I also believe that Baby likes to sing in the shower. According to my personal opinion one of Baby's big passions is music. Her sweet voice will be loud and clear and if you look at her she'll wink at you and smile.

After you're done she'll gladly let you brush her hair. Since the mane of hers often doesn't do what she wants it to do she gladly accepts help. If you put a hair product in her hair while softly clearing the knots she'll close her eyes while humming faintly.

|Otis Driftwood| (NSFW)

Otis is very similar to Bo when it comes to showering. Though he is also surprisingly shy. Not because of his body, more because of your feelings. Do you really want him in the shower?

After he gets over those thoughts he'll slip behind you every now and then, his big hands caressing your ass, scaring the shit out of you. If you shriek or jump he'll just chuckle and continue raking his hands over your naked form.

Even though he pretends like he doesn't like it, he loves if you wash his hair. Come on have you seen that mane? It needs some serious care and especially good conditioner. It's also dyed (I refuse to believe that his natural hair color is white.) so a good wash is long overdue.

Afterwards he'll gladly lay in bed with you while reading or discussing things. I believe that Otis also enjoys reading stories to his partner. After all you can discuss them with him later.

|Billy Loomis| (NSFW)

Are you kidding? Of course he'll shower with you!

His eyes plus hands will never leave your naked body, prepare for him just being horny. Yes Y/N, he'd love to put soap on your body. What do you mean not just on your chest and ass?

Eventually he'll grow tired of just looking at you. His hands will be all over your body soon, his lips attached to your chest leaving little marks.

If he's tired he'll oblige to your charm and wash your body without being naughty. Afterwards he'll just silently hold you close while the hot water engulfs both of you. I mean mostly him but his body will keep you warm.

|Stu Macher| (SFW)

Stu enjoys every activity he can do with you on his side.

He'll gladly massage your back, pressing little kisses to your shoulder plate. His hands will be so soft when they rub soap all over your wet form.

He loves when you try to wash him but fail because you're too small. He'll steal a kiss or two when you try and reach him by standing on your tip toes.

After all the cleaning is finished he will wrap his strong arms around you and press his chest against your back, humming fondly. He'll close his eyes and softly let the water flow over your connected bodies.

|Brahms Heelshire| (NSFW)

Brahms hates cleaning. No matter how. You will have to coax him into the shower by showering with him. It's really the only time when he ever showers.

Don't expect him to actually wash himself. You can do that Y/N. Such a malicious little gremlin. As soon as your hands touch him he'll put his head on your shoulder and start whispering very naughty things. Y/N you're torturing him, what is he supposed to do?

Okay so there might not be a lot of cleaning. If you really want him to be clean you will have to use a punishment or coax kind of strategy. No good night kiss for Brahms if he doesn't clean himself I guess. God he will be so whiny. Brahms is going to pout for days after this.

Afterwards he still wants your attention. Y/N wasn't he a good boy? He deserves a reward doesn't he?

|Josef| from the creep series (SFW)

Shower? With him? You really want that? Eh.. okay.

He'll be a bit insecure, Josef isn't used to receiving adoration. As soon as you start putting soap on his body he visibly relaxes and sighs softly. He loves being touched, yet he never asks for it.

Afterwards he'll always want to shower with you. Please just touch him some more.

Josef will happily return the favor. His touches will be very soft and tender, he doesn't want you to feel any kind of uncomfortable or scared.

After showering he will rub lotion on your warm skin, he wants it to be healthy Y/N!

Josef will also prepare a healthy meal. Food is important Y/N and god he loves cooking for you. His body in new clothes, smelling like aftershave, wet hair in a bun, singing quietly while he makes roasted vegetables. Please wrap your arms around his torso. He will nearly faint.

|Thomas Hewitt| (SFW)

It will take him a while, mainly because of the mask. However coaxing works quite good so he might give in after you bribe him a little.

Tommy is going to wash your hair very precisely, not wanting to cause knots. He knows how hot in can get in Texas as well which leads him to move away from the refreshing water, leaving you more space. He's just very considerate, compared to other slashers (ehem, Bo.).

Please wash his hair, he'd feel so special. Especially if it's your own shampoo.

After showering he'll wrap you in his strong arms and nuzzle his face in your neck, mask off. Do whatever you want Y/N, he's just glad he can lay next to you right now.

[aspiring-writer-hidden-voice]

Powerless Pt.2

F!Reader x various; pronouns are “She/Her”; Age: All characters are 18+ Warnings: Fluff, noises, storms, triggers, adult language such as cursing. Reader Quirk: “Sensory” meaning that your senses are five times that of a normal person’s.

Kirishima

Earthquake

A small smile lifted your lips when stepping into your apartment, kicking off your shoes and shedding the uniform jacket with a sigh. “It’s so good being home finally after working a double shit!” You crowed while stretching, loud pops filling the air while stretching your aching body. Shaking your head, you cleared away the remaining traces of work from your mind while venturing farther inwards. The lights were off and there was no sign of the one who always shouted a greeting when you returned. You remembered that he too had a double shift to work and shrugged, hand rising to stifle a yawn as it split your jaw in half. Aches within your very bones begged for a rest but above a nap you wanted a shower. That and the thought of dirtying your clean bed right now was way more tiring to think about.

Carpet and hardwood floors gave way to tile when you stepped into the main bath, fingers easily finding the Bluetooth speaker button that rested above the shower head until soft music filled the air, quickly lowering the volume when your eardrums protested. Clothing was discarded in the hamper to be dealt with later as steam slowly filled the room courtesy of a few twists of the faucet nozzle, a drawn out hiss slipping between your teeth when stepping beneath the spray once you were done surveying yourself in the mirror. Looks like you’d gained a little weight again, stupid stress eating, but recalling the delectable taste of berries and cream puff pastries that had been gifted to you in thanks was enough to make you smile as the warm water droplets met your skin. The cream had been whipped to perfection, literally melting the moment it touched your tongue, allowing the hidden caramelized berries to shine with a subtle tartness complimented by the flaky buttery puff pasty shell.

The tension within your being released it’s toxic hold with every passing second that you stood beneath the shower. Your eyes had drifted closed so as not to aggravate them with the vapors rising from the small bag of shower salts that were in the drain. Eucalyptus, tea tree, and other essential oils soon permeated the air that allowed your body to farther relax until you were sitting within the tub’s center as the water rained down on you like an actual shower. It was so warm and the scents soothing that for a moment you wondered if you were overdoing it; whenever you had a sensory overload it would take you several hours to regain clarity. A shake of your head dismissed the silly thought. You freaking deserved this.

A broken moan slipped up your throat while a pump of lathering body wash filled your palm was carefully applied all over with gentle finger strokes. The suds were much smaller than what most foaming devices could manage yet you could nearly feel every single one as it slid across your sensitive skin leaving a small trail of soapy residue that made your skin shine once the dirt had been cleared away. It was unscented, the soap tailored specifically for those like you who had sensitive skin that required more care, but you couldn’t hold back the slightest of gasps when you found a particularly sore area within your neck. Guess that’s what you get for sleeping at the kitchen table instead of the couch or bed.

The classical music that had initially been playing gave way to much faster contemporary that made your head bob along with the bass guitar. Now this was more like it. You’d been so quick to get in the shower that the station that had been selected meant little to you but you were glad of the change in genre. Wouldn’t want to fall asleep in the shower for him to find later. You could already hear the teases that would come right after he made sure that you weren’t suffering from pneumonia.

Your eyes cracked open as a subtle vibration caused you to slip slightly across the tub’s bottom. That wasn’t part of your imagination. Taking a firm hold on the curtain, you made to stand when another tremor nearly sent you back to the floor. The near blissful haze that had begun to cloud your mind was quickly dispersed as the fine hairs across your body rose. Were those explosions? No, you knew what both would feel like thanks to the training sessions you’d watched and this was not either of them; Bakugo’s quirk had made you all too familiar with how explosions sounded and felt. This was something different…like the earth itself was quaking. Another tremor, this time much stronger, sent you crashing over the tub’s brim to lay flat across the floor with the curtain wrapped around yourself like a swaddle as you lay stunned from the impact.

Darkness fell as the sound of metal pipe bursting caused a wave of water to submerge you for a moment, nearly suffocating you from the heavy curtain’s absorbency and plastic liner’s combined weight, the overstimulation of the sensations sending you into momentary shock as the floor beneath buckled. No part of your body responded when you attempted to move once things had settled. You couldn’t hear the music or water anymore and something was pressing painfully between your shoulder blades from behind while one of your legs was numb yet you could tell that it had been forced into an awkward angle. One of your arms was being pinched between what felt like two slabs of concrete, the rough grit biting and burning your skin when you managed to take a shaky breath.

Fear began to seep into your veins with each passing second that deafening silence threatened to crush you farther. Every since you were a child you had to have something in the background; music, white noise, random conversations of strangers while walking in the street, traffic, animals chattering, anything to prevent you from experiencing the endless void that was silence. Nothing much else bothered you, coarse fabrics could be softened with conditioners and you could avoid most scenarios where you’d encounter something unfavorable, but silence was something that loomed behind you like a lingering cloud ready to fall at the slightest sign of weakness.

Each pump of the heart in your chest should have brought with it the sound of rushing blood in your ears but by this point all you could hear was nothing as the darkness around you appeared to morph into massless beings just waiting for the perfect moment where you’d give up hope of rescue. How far had you fallen? Were you even still in the complex building? Ice slipped down your spine when a telltale groan sounded somewhere beneath you that was accompanied by the shrill bend of metal that caused whatever was pinning you to sink farther into your being. Tears burned as they fell down your cheeks when pain erupted along the leg you were sure was broken, a sob slipping you’re your raw throat when another shift in the rubble caused your being to slip farther down the incline you were pinned against.

Were you going to die here of oxygen deprivation or of being crushed?

Your teeth dug into the flesh of your bottom lip as it quivered and that was when you heard it: a whistle. It was almost too distant for you to hear but there was no mistaking that sharp C note. Swiping your tongue across chapped lips, tasting faint traces of copper and iron, you mustered all of the breath you could while pursing. The sound that left your lips was so muted that you yourself could hardly hear it. It wasn’t good enough…you had to try again. A shaky inhale was taken, causing your chest to instantly flare with agony that spoke of broken ribs, but it was enough to make a piercing shrill sound that rang loudly enough to make your ears ache.

Silence fell once again. Had he heard you? Would he be able to find you amongst all of this rubble? Dizziness crashed over you, making your head spin and the waves of pain that you’d been trying to ignore grew to the point where they were all you could think about. The water lingering upon your skin had chilled by this point, making your skin clammy and the dried soap traces to flake in clumps, your lungs beginning to burn with the need for fresh air as grit could be felt entering your airways. Maybe you were going to choke to death on the dust instead.

“(Y/N)!”

The call of your name was like a jump start as the giant slab of concrete you’d been resting against was lifted with a roar, blinking furiously as pieces of dirt and stone threatened to blind you along with the powerful light beam that shone in your face. So blinded were you that for a moment you couldn’t see him but the light shifted from behind him to the side enough to illuminate the sharp planes of his body as what was now recognizable as a piece of foundation was tossed to the side as if it were nothing.

He was instantly in front of you, his quirk disengaging enough for his calloused palm to cup your cheek when you began to sob. “Hey, pebble, I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you.” Red Riot soothed with a grunt though his scarlet eyes betrayed the swirling emotions that he was surely struggling to hide as he took in your appearance. You must have been in worse shape than you thought as the muscles of his throat shifted in a swallow, the hand cupping your cheek trembling as he called for a paramedic and stretcher. His head bent until his forehead met yours. “It’s gonna hurt a bit, (Y/N), but I know you can handle it. You know I’m gonna take care of ya, right?”

You wanted to smile, assure him that you were fine, but the agony that was spreading across your body was too much and rendered you to a choked mess. “It hurts…Eiji…it really hurts—” The breath you’d managed to take in at the concrete’s removal was choked by a bubble of red that came from between your lips.

“Only my pebble could be so amazing. Proud of you, you hear me? Just leave everything else to me, but you gotta stay awake. Piece of cake for you, I know, so show me that fighting spirit you got.” He grunted while moving away to shift something out of your range of vision that had become blurred by the tears spilling down your face. It took everything in your power to bob your head in a nod. His calloused palm met the top of your head before it fell to cup your cheek, his lips ghosting over your own in a whisper. “Hang in there for me.”

Stayed awake you did, though it was difficult with the amount of pain you were in once he carefully collected your body into an embrace once the debris had been cleared away. He was so warm against your being that it threatened to make you slip into unconsciousness several times as he climbed his way one handed out of the hole you’d somehow fallen into and curled tighter into his chest when flashing bright lights greeted the two of you the moment he’d stepped out of the crevice. The mass of strangers with cameras and flashlights instantly backed away as other pro heroes that you faintly recognized forced them to retreat and allow a medical pair to appear with a stretcher.

In the blink of an eye you found yourself staring listlessly up at a tiled ceiling with machines beeping loudly in your ears and numbingly floating somewhere between consciousness and oblivion. Tubes were stuck up inside your nose, making you cringe and grimace at the invasive plastic that was meant to aid but only succeeded in aggravating the sensitive inner lining of your nostrils, a hand stopping your own from removing it caused your head to shift so that its owner could be seen sitting in the chair to your right.

“Hey, pebble,” Eijiro said softly while shifting closer, his other hand rising to meet the top of your head, “had me worried there for a while.” He looked absolutely exhausted with those heavy shadows under his eyes, his trademark smile growing when your hand instead shifted to entwine your fingers with his. There were faint scratches across his being but what had you most concerned were the lingering traces of moisture clinging to his eyelashes when he blinked.

“Are you…are those tears?” You croaked, brows furrowing when instead of denial his only response was resting his head forward into your lap without breaking eye contact. The other hand rose to comb his tangled red hair, careful to work out the kinks your fingers came across. “It takes a lot to make a manly man such as yourself to cry.” It wasn’t meant as a jest or tease, you honestly had never seen him shed a single droplet save for when he trained himself so hard that his abused muscles would protest despite the care he applied after, so to say you were alarmed by the guilt that shone brightly in his gaze was heart wrenching. “Eijiro, why are you looking at me like that?”

He took a shaky breath in through parted lips while tightening his hold on your hand. “It’s my fault, I’ve been slacking off too much,” a single droplet snuck out from the corner of his left eye as he shook his head, “if I was faster, like Ida or Midoriya, I could’ve gotten to you before—”

“What are you talking about? You train the hardest out of all the other heroes, I’ve seen you work yourself to the point of collapsing, so whatever it is that you’re not telling me just come out and say it.” Your eyes followed the trail of his gaze as it drifted downwards, falling to rest on the far end of the bed.

The blanket was tossed back with a kick to reveal a simple prosthetic made of wood and metal where a leg of flesh, blood, and bone would be. Phantom pain flared for a moment within the limb that was nowhere in sight, everything from the knee down was artificial, a part of you felt lucky that it was only that much versus the whole thing. Shock, horror, despair would have crashed down on you if it weren’t for the realization that hit you first: one of your legs was missing and he was blaming himself.

In a flash you sat up with both hands cupping his head, earning a blink and gasp as you brought him close enough that his face was inches from your own. “You listen to me, Eijiro Kirishima, you do not get to carry this on your shoulders. What happened was an accident, a natural disaster that was completely out of your or anyone else’s hands, and it was my damn leg that was lost so don’t you dare think that this was your fault.” The inhale you were in the middle of taking was shaky but you steeled yourself anyway when he made to turn away. “You are and always will be my hero. So can I count on you to help me towards recovery?”

His answer was lost in the bury of his face against your stomach, muscular arms wrapping around your waist with a gentle but firm hold that caused your hands to shift up into his vermillion hair that had long since fallen limp without the hold of gel. It was soft to your touch, a stark contrast to how stiff and hard his body could become, yet your fingers wasted no time in finding the sensitive scalp beneath that held barest hints of the dark black hair that was its natural color. It would need dying again soon and the once seemingly minuscule task excited you. He must have had a similar thought judging from how a mumbled sentence that sounded an awful lot like “I forgot to buy dye”. Eijiro’s head moved upwards, causing your hands once more to move but this time they fell upon his wide set shoulders, his grin back in place as your gazes met. “I gotcha, baby, I’m gonna do everything I can to help ya. No matter what it takes.”

Your finger lightly flicked his nose as a smile tugged on your lips when noting the slight shine of excitement in his eyes as they glanced down at your missing appendage. “No bionic or mechanical prosthetic leg. I don’t plan on becoming an android.”

“Aw, c’mon! That’d be so manly!” He groaned while lightly poking at your sides with an exasperated expression. “You could kick all sorts of ass with something like that. Could even have secret weapons built into it! Nanami already volunteered to make it herself just for you!” A victorious smirk raised his lips, showcasing sharp teeth, as you blinked up at him with steadily widening eyes. His lips met your right temple with a laugh as you sputtered for a moment in an attempt to deny that you would need something so advanced.

Hawks

Tornado

“What are you so wound up for?”

Your finger rose to the sky, making point of drawing the shopkeeper’s attention upwards. “See those clouds and how fast they’re moving? A front’s coming in so I suggest you head home when you can.” The supplies you’d been gathering were bagged in burlap and a few bills were exchanged in compensation for the fresh produce. They waved in departure with a smile as thanks for the business but you didn’t let on that you could hear their disregard of your warning the moment your back had been turned. A sigh slipped through your lips as you approached the old rusted Chevrolet pickup that your father insisted that you took into town. It had earned you several people who stopped to converse or ask questions of if you were indeed the offspring that had run off to the grand city to pursue bigger dreams than what could be offered in this dusty town.

Living in an agriculture centered economy wasn’t the greatest place to cultivate a quirk like yours, especially during summer and harvest seasons. Allergies here were always worse for you than anyone else no matter what prescriptions you took, growing up in the local school system had left you vulnerable to bullies who often called you “sensitive” or “baby”. Ten long years have passed since then but you could still often hear their harsh words or feel their cruel touches across your skin. The only reason you were back was because you’d heard that your mother had hurt herself and your father wanted you to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn’t overdo herself. It had been completely out of the blue but you couldn’t deny a direct request from your father.

“Oh, my goodness gracious—”

“Yes, hi, Marilynn Mae.” You sigh while waving towards the woman who had called out to you. “Sorry, no time to chat. I gotta get these groceries back home before the storm rolls in.”

The young woman’s features twisted in confusion before they became something akin to amusement. “There you go again trying to be better than everyone else including the cute meteorologist on the television.”

A twitch settled into your brow. “I’d watch that mouth of yours, MaeMae, never forget that I was the one who found out it was you who was sneaking pharmaceuticals behind your daddy’s back.”

“You fucking—”

“Children are present, might wanna tone down.” You sighed, turning away with a wave of your hand that opened the truck’s heavy door with a drawn out creak. “Believe me or don’t, honestly it doesn’t matter to me, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” It was closed with a bang loud enough to accentuate your point yet it also went ignored as you swung yourself up into the tall vehicle.

A twist of the key made the ancient engine roar to life and you were on your way down Main Street with faint clouds of diesel exhaust trailing after you. The bouncing of the truck would have sent you to the dusty floor several times if it weren’t for your steady hold on the oversized steering wheel. Denim jeans torn in several places, cracked leather boots, plaid short sleeve tied in a knot at your sternum, even the way your hair had been styled into a long fishtail braid were as nostalgic as they were bittersweet. It has been so long since you’ve anything like this and personally you were glad that none of your acquaintances or friends back in the city could see you right now. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed, on the contrary you knew you rocked this look, but the thought of a certain someone made your stomach twist.

Brick buildings gave way to open fields and highway as you left the town’s limits. The clouds you’d been concerned about earlier were definitely starting to gather and move faster, causing the multitudes of various vegetation to sway and bow lower to the ground with each passing second. Your foot against the gas petal pressed it down farther but it was an old machine, meaning it could only go so fast, resolve filling you when noting how the sky tinted in hue. There was no way you were going to make it home before it hit. Luckily for you the nearby river overpass was just up ahead. All you had to do was get there and you would at least have some sort of shelter.

The truck suddenly lurched backwards as if you’d collided with something in front but there was nothing there. “What in the—” Your sentence quite literally died on your lips as a glance in the rear view mirror revealed a funnel cloud that was rapidly approaching the paved highly way behind you. How had you not seen it?! A curse rose up your throat when feeling the back end of the truck rise then slam back down on the pavement.

Wind stronger than you thought possible slammed into the side of the vehicle, causing it to swerve dangerously towards the shoulder despite your best attempts to keep it on the road and braced yourself for the impact as you rolled into the ditch. Everything fell still after what felt like an hour and you ignored the pain that registered within your shoulder that had taken the greatest brunt of force while shifting yourself free of the seatbelt now threatening to dig into your chest. The sunglasses that had been on your face were spotted on the ground beside your head as you blinked away the dust that had obscured your vision. A twist of your body gained you freedom through the shattered windshield, an exclamation slipping between your parted lips as you slipped and landed in a heap within tall grass capable of hiding someone. Tears threatened to form as you crawled towards the overpass that was literally mere feet away, the sound of rushing water bringing with it hope that you would be capable of reaching the shelter, gravel and bugs biting into your skin as you went.

From over your shoulder you caught sight of the funnel cloud that had been responsible for the crash and felt weight settle in your stomach when noticing that it wasn’t dissipating but getting bigger. Wailing sirens pierced the air from where the town lay in the distance but it only served to fuel the adrenaline that coursed through your veins as you quickly ducked beneath the structure. Not a moment after you had crammed yourself within the smallest space possible did you feel it impact the ground. It felt as if the very earth itself was quaking in awe or fear before the mighty twister as it tore apart man and nature made obstacles until it came into view to the left where it sucked up several gallons of river water that would be later dumped in some other location, your eyes widening in horror as a second one appeared on the opposite side of the bridge. There were two?!

Fear plunged itself deep within your chest when the twin spindly towers of wind seemed to come to a halt within the river, neither waning in strength as they inched closer and closer to each other, your teeth catching upon the flesh of your lower lip in hopes to stop a sob that threatened to rise. Crying wasn’t going to help you right now! You flinched as the smaller one impacted the overpass’s side, a telltale ripping sound filling the air as a large chunk of concrete was peeled off the highway to become a victim within the swirling funnel until it was spat out like a wad of used chewing gum where it landed with a splash farther down the river’s length.

You’d only heard of something like this happening in fiction as the two twisters appeared to grow in strength by building off the other’s slipstreams. Stuff like this only happened in films or fiction, it wasn’t supposed to be something possible in real life! The horror you felt warped into unadulterated chaotic fear as the wind caused your hold on the support beam that you’d been clinging to slip. “No, no, no, no,” you repeated like a mantra while willing your fingers and nails to dig into the rough steel, unable to feel the pain as blood seeped from the cuts and cracks in your skin that slowly trailed down the length of your hands.

Through your peripheral vision you could spot the smaller twister slowly become devoured by the larger one, creating a large dark funnel that was barely visible if not for the sparking electrical lines that had been sucked in, your eyes widening as one lashed out like a black snake in your direction.

A gloved hand appeared as if from thin air to deflect its fatal bite, causing it to recoil back into the wind where it disappeared from sight, the tears you’d been holding back spilling as crimson feathers helped to ease you farther back up into the structure’s innards while the figure used a lengthened one to slice through a slab of concrete that surely would have crushed you. It wasn’t until he was sure that the largest of debris were broken down into smaller pieces did he turn away from the angry tunnel of wind to sandwich you between himself and the overpass. “Well, baby bird, I’d say that I got here just in the nick of time, wouldn’t you say?” Hawks readily positioned himself as a gust threatened to tear the two of your apart, arms and legs bracing while tucking his wings closely against his sides.

“W-what are you doing here?! How did you even find me?!” You shouted over the screaming wind, shaking your head in disbelief when he flashed you a smile when he shouted for you to speak up. The fear that you’d felt wasn’t completely gone but it had subsided a great deal once the warmth of his body seeped into your own. A gloved hand met the cheek that was stinging from a cut you’d received in the crash but you shook your head when his lips parted. “I’m alright but I owe my father a new pickup!”

“You’re a bite and want a feather to pack?” His head tilted to the left, confusion filling his features. “Thought you still had the one I gave you! That’s how I was able to find you!”

A laugh bubbled up your throat despite the circumstances. “How did you get that out of what I said? You really are bird brained!”

His head bent forward until his visor met your forehead, his gaze warm and full of relief as your tears ceased. “Aw, baby bird, there’s no need to shed those little tears anymore. I’m here, aren’t I? C’mon now, show me that dazzling smile you’ve always got reserved just for me.” Bit by bit your lips slowly rose into a grateful smile as his attempt to distract you from the situation at hand until you fighting back laughter as the feathers that had helped you into the cramped space lightly tickled the vulnerable skin of your neck. Brief panic filled you when your hold completely gave way but instead of crashing down to the ground or being sucked up by the wind you found yourself cushioned by his being with your head tucked against his neck. “That’s much better,” he said lowly into your ear with a breath that you could scarcely feel if not for your close proximity, “I lost track of time in town and you’d left before I realized. Naughty girl for sneaking off when she knew that something was going to happen.”

The impact of his hand against your right buttock cheek caused you to yelp. “Wait, what were you doing here of all places?”

“Couldn’t just let my little birdy migrate somewhere else without me, now could I? Thought I could surprise and make a good first impression.”

“I told you I was only staying for a week at most to make sure my mother got the rest she needed.” Your eyes rolled but it was sweet that he had come all this way to follow you. The heart in your chest stalled as his words permeated the air. “First impression? For who?”

“Who do you damn think?”

Heat kissed your cheeks at the gruff voice that came from below, craning your neck as far as it could reach to spot a figure standing below you wearing an unreadable expression. “D-d-dad?!” Before you’d even realized it, the storm had moved along its course which left you to gape at man below who was surrounded by fallen debris.

“Ya gonna hang around like that all day canoodling my daughter or ya gonna get your feathered ass down here to introduce yourself properly?”

Hawks’s arms instantly wrapped around your waist, effectively breaking his hold and causing the two of your to fall, but the wings he’d kept close during the twisters unfurled just in time for his boots to meet the sandy covered riverbank first. “Nah, thought I’d take her fishin’ in the dark instead.”

Your jaw gaped, hand instantly slapping itself against his chest while wiggling free and scowling at the laughing hero when the elder man who was your father regarded him with a narrowed gaze. “K-Keigo, now is not the time—”

“Spunky little youngin’, ain’t ya? Ya really think yer good enough to handle my daughter?”

Indignation filled you. “Don’t encourage him!” The bridge of your nose was pinched between fingers as you groaned lowly when they began to banter back and forth.

Tokoyami

Hurricane

Darkness.

That’s all you’ve known for the last two days…or has it been more?

Honestly you’ve lost track. Days were no longer marked by the sun but by the food and supply rationing times. The community had been completely decimated by Mother Nature without enough warning for an evacuation to take place, meaning that you and several others were left to suffer in wake of torrential rain, crashing waves, blustering winds. Most of the buildings had been blown over or washed away by the flooding, homes and business left in piles of worthless rubble.

Was this some sort of punishment from the higher powers because you had gone on this trip despite knowing what season it was?

It had to be coincidence that the day you checked into the hotel was when Mother Nature’s temperament took a sudden turn. There was no time for anything except for survival. You’d thought your phone was lost yet one of the cleaning volunteers had found the remains of your belongings within the hotel rubble, handing you the practically destroyed electronic with little encouragement that it would be useful in some way since nothing was working now. Electricity was out thanks to several downed lines, which meant there was no Wi-Fi or cellular reception. If it weren’t for the roadblocks and flooding you all would have departed by now.

You, the residents, and tourists were practically stranded without means to let families or loved ones know that your names wouldn’t appear upon the list of casualties flashing across every news channel around the world was watching.

A low growl sounded from your right as you hurried to the little tent that you’d been given as shelter, your foot paused in the entrance of the flap when a shadow appeared from the alley. You’d chosen a spot farther away from the bigger groups, you weren’t one to really mingle amongst strangers and had originally come for some alone time away from stress at work, but you remained steadfast as a dog lumbered forward with lips pulled back to showcase shining teeth as two pups appeared from behind. Their ribs were showing so it was testimony to their lacking of sustainable substance was obvious as you sympathetically used a fallen piece of plastic drum as a dish where you spooned out some of your rationed stew. Quickly backing away you retreated to your tent’s interior as the trio lunged forward with saliva dripping from their teeth that hungrily devoured the small offering.

Yes you had just given away the food that was supposed to keep you going, yes you may regret it later, yes they were nothing more than dogs…but you couldn’t just stand by while another living being starved.

The shabby blanket that you’d been given was wrapped around your shoulders when a strong breeze caused the tent’s domed ceiling to sway. Without the sun it was much colder here than one would realize. All of your cute shorts, skirts, and swimsuits that you’d packed were useless with the current weather; downcast, clouded, dark. A single tear slipped down your cheek as the alarm was given that the camp’s lights would soon be turned off.

How odd that something that used to be your friend, your comfort, now caused your blood to race with fear at just the thought of being surrounded by darkness. It had become something so teeth chattering chilled that it nearly made you forget to breathe. Sleep was impossible with how harsh your reality had become which left you in a state of unease and on constant adrenaline fueled alert for anything that might be a threat. Survival was the game here but you felt like you were losing with each passing second as the camp’s lights flickered then died, plunging the nightmarish world you’ve come to know into black nothingness.

Movement outside spoke of the dogs’ departure, meaning that you were alone for now, but sleep evaded you as you simply resided to sitting in a huddled position. Exhaustion lingered like a migraine as your eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness until you were able to distinguish the inside of the tent. Of course you wanted to rest, to lie down, yet the threat of people who might take advantage of your lack of guard was too high. Even considering the circumstances there were those who wouldn’t waste to extort their power over those deemed weaker. Already several other tourists had been victimized by theft and worse. Not you though, you were more than ready to fend off any attacker who dared to enter your space.

Your fingers tightened around the broken device as something shifted outside. A shadow was approaching, just faintly visible thanks to the lights of a nearby entrance to the camp, the fine hairs across your body rising when noticing that instead of heading towards your tent it turned towards the one to your right where you knew a woman dwelled with her two daughters. In a flash you had risen to your feet and was out the tent’s entrance, sliding to a stop in time to come between the residence and the figure who now regarded you with narrowed eyes. “Move along,” you say softly but allowing your disgust at their intentions to ring within each word that filled the air.

“You offering?”

Anger intermixed with your disgust as their pastel hazel eyes trailed across your being. This had to be the same person responsible for the other attacks of young women and teens, they all said that similar eyes had been staring down at them and the voice they spoke with was light bass that was unmistakable: it was one of the appointed guards who was meant to help preserve order and safety. “Nothing here is for you, so move along.”

“Check again.” A hiss slipped up your throat when a large hand lashed out to take hold of your shoulder, fat fingers digging into your pressure points and causing your body to instantly seize in alarm as the other hand grabbed a fistful of your hair. “You came out of that tent there, yeah? I think you should invite me inside.”

The muscles of your jaw instantly locked as their head bent down until your faces were level and before you could think better of it your head snapped forward with a crack. Your release made the world that had begun to blur along the edges sharpen once more as a lash of your foot against their chest caused them to stumble backwards with enough force to disappear in a crash against an unoccupied tent. Plastic tarp and poles clattered loudly, earning the attention of several people who were nearby and the lights blazed to life once more as a shout rose.

Honestly you should have known better than to think that they would simply give up without a fight, let alone assume they didn’t have a quirk that was a threat, and was too slow to dodge when a hand lashed out to take firm hold of your throat. Their fat fingers dug into your delicate neck despite the distance between you two was over five meters. So they had a stretch nature quirk. Weakness wracked your body from the lack of nutrition and proper exercise, causing you to fall to your knees as they emerged from the rubble, a sinister sneer lifting their lips when none of the onlookers made to intervene. Now that the lights were on you realized just who they were: the established of the camp.

And suddenly it all made sense as to why only females were allowed entrance to this particular camp. All the better to target them once their physical strength had waned just enough.

“This is the thanks I get for showing you my hospitality?” They growled while stalking towards you with long strides, ensuring none mustered the courage or gall to stop them as they came to a stop in front of you. A thick dark hued tongue slipped out to moisten their dry lips as their hand forced you to crane backwards. “”I do like what I see, foreigner, I think you shall be useful in entertaining me for quite some time.”

Their eyes widened as a wailing siren pierced the dark night air, those who had gathered quickly dispersing and heading for the underground shelter. Another storefront was on its way. Taking the opportunity of the momentary chaos, you wrenched free but tethered the camp leader to the ground by means of a tent stake that you’d swiped. “W-what are you doing?!” No matter how hard they tried to pry themselves free of the pole now stabbed through their clothing it refused to budge. “Why did you do that?! I have to get inside!”

“You’re staying here with me.” You growl lowly, a twitch settling within the corner of your mouth at the fear that appeared across their features. Forks of lightning flashed across the sky above your heads as large droplets of water pummeled your beings. It was chilly but you paid it no mind as the heat of anger lingered within your veins at the thought of how this person had taken advantage of those who sought comfort and shelter. Crimes such as those committed couldn’t- no, shouldn’t be ignored. “We’ve got some unfinished business and I am going to rely on Mother Nature to assist in a suitable punishment for you.”

“You’re crazy!”

A soft hum slipped up your throat as you shrugged. “Everyone has their own definition of what madness level they are, yourself included, so excuse me when I say that I highly doubt that I am anywhere near what you fear.”

Loud popping filled the air as one of the lights shattered, causing your attention to the shower of glass raining down from the near three story high pole. Down the barricade’s length each light met the same destructive end until only one was left to faintly illuminate the campsite. What had caused something like that to happen? Had the main power returned and caused an outage from the surge because of the rain? A knot appeared within your stomach as from within your peripheral vision something slender and dark snaked across the ground heading straight for you.

Darkness enclosed around you as the wind become a screaming force attempting to tear away your clothing and very skin, the shrill high pitched whimpers of the one you’d forced to stay at your side. Fear threatened to seize your body but the faintest scent of incense and obsidian stone tickled your nose as something brushed the top of your head. Something larger than yourself was drawing you flush against something firm and warm yet your instinct to fight was stamped out when you felt a familiar curved hard surface meet your cheek. Tears formed instantly in the corners of your eyes as you readily wrapped your arms around the upper torso that met your own, emotion rising to table into a knot in your throat. “H-how did you find me?”

“We’ve been circling the border for the last two days waiting for an opportunity or sign that you were on the other side. Your phone finally turned on a little while ago, giving us all we needed to locate you.” A beak fell to rest in the junction of your shoulder and neck, his warm exhale tickling your moistened skin. “I am relieved to find you in one piece, (Y/N).”

“Whose the crying idiot?”

A chuckle rose up your throat at Dark Shadow’s blatant description. “Let’s just say they are responsible for keeping the female tourists, such as myself, separated from the locals and has been preying on them. I intended Mother Nature to do with him as she pleased but looks like fate had something else entirely in mind.”

The combined growl that sounded from the pair was enough to earn the cowering individual’s subtle shriek as a giant hand manifested that enclosed them within a tight fist. Silence fell after a few seconds, Tokoyami giving you the assurance that the leader was alive but taking a “nap”, and enclosed you within a tighter embrace. Not a word needed to be spoken as the three of your weathered through the storm front. Your concern for their well-being’s as water lapped from beneath Dark Shadow’s protective barrier yet they never once released their hold on you even as the ground beneath threatened to disappear.

Night gave way to day as the sound of rain and wind gave way to silence, Dark Shadow retreating like a pair of mighty protective wings to rest back within Tokoyami as you both blinked up at the distant sunrise that bathed the wet landscape in warm golden rays. Relief filled you when spotting several other Pro Heroes assist in helping the others who were slowly appearing from the storm shelter, a few shooting disgusted looks at the leader who was still unconscious and lying in a heap, your strength finally giving when spotting the mother and two children within the care of a medical professional. Warm hands found your shoulders as you teetered dangerously. “Rest now. You have done well, (Y/N), I shall leave the rest to the others. It is time to take you home.”

You fully allowed the tension of your body to release as he gathered you effortlessly into his arms, humming softly as your face snuggled into his neck. “That sounds so good right now…”

“Perhaps a hot bath will be waiting for you as well.”

“Now you’re talking,” you groaned softly, “maybe a snack too?”

His deep throated chuckle rumbled softly against your ear. “Anything you desire but first I suggest a rest.”

Not having to be told twice, you quickly fell into the waiting darkness that had been lingering along the edges of your vision. This was far different than the fear-filled nightmare that you’ve come to know. It was the blissful pleasant calm that you’d found ever since your path crossed with Tokoyami’s. Here you were safe, cared for, cherished in a way that you couldn’t hope to compare or find elsewhere.

[angelz-dust]

Bro cowboy!jason with some smut would be beautiful 😭

yeehaw baby - minors avert y'all eyes 🤠

(as i was writing this i realized i was writing a female reader but if you'd like a male or gender neutral reader instead let me know and i'll come with up an whole new scenario!!)

minors/ageless blogs who interact will be blocked - read rules before interacting

what's a sheriff without his hat? (jason todd x female reader)

warnings: nsfw 18+ (no condom, pulling out - wrap it up y'all). angst if you squint.

...

"sheriff!"

you kicked in the doors to the saloon, gathering the attention of some of the patrons nearby. the place smelled of smoke and sweat, which was why you tried your best to avoid the spot altogether. however, it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so with sheriff todd making it his new hangout spot. the bastard could've picked a place with a bit more circulation as far as you were concerned.

"sheriff!" you yelled again, holding your dress up as your steps increased in speed. you saw the man in his booth with deputy harper and the rest of their little posse. they felt more like thugs to you.

"he's asleep," the woman, artemis, said to you as she opened her bottle of booze on the side of the table, subsequently chipping off some of the wood. you weren't sure if it was due to the poor structural integrity or her strength. probably both.

"i don't give a damn if he's neck deep in his grave," you spat, walking up to him. his seat was leaned back, which mean he was definitely awake. no one could balance their own weight like that and be unconscious. his hat was covering his face, some smoke coming out of the sides. asleep my ass.

you ripped the hat off of his face, bellows of cigarette smoke barreling out. his eyes shot open, the white slightly red from how he was abusing them just now. how he was still breathing, you didn't know. maybe the rumors about him coming back to life and being immortal were true.

"can i help you?" he glared, making an attempt to snatch his hat back from you. you quickly pulled back, making his seat lunge forward and his chest hit the table. you heard the deputy snort at the scene. "as my companion just told you, i'm asleep."

your glared right back at him, holding his hat behind your back. "you promised to keep those hooligans away from my place of business, todd."

"did i?" he asked you, giving you a fake grin. "well, i'm sorry little lady. it musta slipped my mind."

"don't get smart with me!" you snapped at him, the entire saloon getting quiet now. everyone was suddenly very interested in your little spat. "you're supposed to be protecting us and all you do is sit on your ass. i'm surprised you ain't collecting dust already."

"someone should sew that damn mouth of yours shut. maybe then we'd get some peace and quiet around here," he said back, getting a few chuckles from his little fan club. "give me my hat back."

you stared at him as your frustrations bubbled inside of you. that's all he had to say? his lack of concern for your issue just let you know what kind of man you already knew he was. he wanted his hat back? fat chance. you silently grinned at him before turning around and starting to walk out of the saloon. screw him and his stupid hat.

"hey!" he shouted as you continued walking off. you could feel the vibrations of his movement in the floorboards. he was coming after you. "get back here!"

you sped up, running out of the saloon and back towards the bathhouse. maybe if you got him off his sorry ass he'd be more willing to hear you out. that is, if the theft of his precious little hat didn't irritate him too much. if you weren't so preoccupied with outrunning him, you'd love to see the look on his face. you made it up the few step to the front door, where he quickly caught up with you. you pressed your back against it, securing the hat in between.

the sheriff glowered down at you, his hand pressed against the doorframe above you. you stared into each other's eyes, the sounds of your panting breath sinking up with one another. as much as he agitated you to no end, he was a very handsome man. it was the only thing that had kept you from shooting him in that pretty face.

"you've had your fun," he told you with a low tone, holding his other hand out. "now give it back."

you were surprised he hadn't just tossed you around and took it for himself. back when jas- the sheriff... first came to town, he seemed like a respectable man. you didn't cross paths very often, but every encounter with him was pleasant and memorable. he was kind, sometimes even a little flirty with you. he was a little rough around the edges. all those cowboys seemed to share that trait. but it was worse when when he returned after disappearing for a long time. you barely recognized him. it seemed he had been hardened by... whatever it was he experienced while he was gone. you didn't ask, nor did you care. he and his gaggle of dirty thugs had taken control of the town and it's been this way ever since.

"you don't deserve it," you decided to say, relishing in the instant gratification that came from seeing his expression change so quickly. oh, he was angry and you loved it. "you're no sheriff. you're an outlaw. you don't care about anybody but yourself."

you felt the hot air blow out of his nose and you had to fight back the smirk that was playing at your lips. you looked down and saw his hand moving towards your waist. the hell was he trying to do? before you could move or protest, you had fallen backwards into the bathhouse, right onto the freshly cleaned floor. he looked down at you from where he stood with a smile, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. you scrambled away from him, his hat still firmly in your grip. you got yourself off the floor, ready for whatever he was going to try.

instead of making his way towards you like you assumed he would, he looked around the place, taking in his surroundings. he eventually started walking in your direction. it was menacing watching him slowly approach you with an expressionless face. he stopped at the counter, looking down at the little bell. pressing his finger on it, it rung. he waited a few seconds before ringing it a few more times, looking over at you expectantly. your gaze narrowed as you made your way behind the counter.

"yes?" you asked with gritted teeth.

"i'd like to have a bath, please."

"... i'm sorry, sir, but we've had to close early today on the account of having no sheriff to protect my girls from harassment," you explained with a sickly sweet smile. "if we had a sheriff, which we don't, then maybe my girls would feel comfortable continuing to work. but since we don't, there's nothing i can do to help you. sorry for the inconvenience."

you saw a flicker of what appeared to be remorse on his face. he looked down at the counter, his finger tracing the grooves. "you're here, aren't you?"

"you must be out of your natural mind."

"why? because i'm requesting that the bathhouse worker give me a bath?" he asked with a snarky tone.

"that you're requesting anything of me after disregarding my concerns earlier."

he pulled some money out of his pocket, slamming it on the counter. "let's discuss it over a bath."

...

this was the last thing you wanted to be doing. you stared at the back of his head as he laid in the tub of warm water. you grabbed the rag from the bucket of soapy water, ringing it out and bringing it to his chest. as much as you wanted to be rough with him, your desire to not touch him at all prompted you to just be gentle instead. you heard him let out a content sigh as you scrubbed him down.

"you wanted to talk to me, didn't you? so talk," he said, resting his chin in his hand while you worked.

"i already told you what the problem was," you reminded him, lightly pressing against his back to get him to sit up. you scrubbed his back, watching as the dirt and grime disappeared, revealing his actual skin color.

"don't present a problem without a solution. what do you want me to do?"

"kill them."

he let out a hearty laugh at your suggestion, laying back down once you finished with his back. your fingers went to his hair as you poured some water of it, massaging it into his scalp. you could've sworn you felt him leaning into your touch. "isn't killing your clientele bad for business?"

"their existence is bad for business," you told him matter of factly, leaning down to wash his stomach. "i want them gone."

"now darling," he chuckled softly, turning his head towards you. his scruff brushed against your skin, making you shiver. "you know i can't do that. try again."

you could feel your face heating up, so you pulled away, washing his arms now. you dragged the rag along his muscles, revealing all kinds of scars as you cleaned him. "give them a stern talking to."

"about what?"

"respecting my girls."

"or else what?"

"use your imagination."

he hummed with a nod as you finished up with his upper body. "i can do that."

you threw the wet rag at his face, making him flinch. he dragged down his face, plopping into the bath water. "i'm not washing you below the belt. you can see yourself out."

...

after dramatically stomping your way up to your bedroom, you changed out of your clothes and into your nightgown. being around the sheriff was exhausting and you weren't going to waste anymore time on him. your only hope was that he'd stay true to his word. as you were getting ready to retire for the night, you heard a knock at your door.

"i want my damn hat back, y/n. i'll kick the door down if i have to," you heard him say through the door. you went and grabbed it off of your dresser, putting it on your head and looking at yourself in the mirror.

"i think i'll keep it for myself, actually."

"you have five seconds to open this door."

out of frustration, he start twisting the knob. unbeknownst to him, it was never locked to begin with. he opened the door, surprise on his face as he let himself in. he looked over at you, the same expression on his face, but for a different reason now.

"take it off."

"i actually quite like it, so i don't think i will."

he must have been fed up with you at this point, because he started approaching you with purpose in his step. you stepped back some, slipping on the length of your gown and falling back on the bed. the hat had fallen off of your head, onto the floor. instead of going around to pick it up, he found himself on top of you. the two of you held eye contact, but it was different from earlier.

"why do you do these things to me?" he asked you softly. "i'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose."

"i don't like you."

"you used to like me."

that may have been true once upon a time, but it wasn't the case now. the person you used to like didn't exist anymore. he was replaced with a hollow shell of a man and you wanted nothing to do with him.

his thumb made its way to the corner of your mouth and your heart started racing. "i still like you," he said with a small frown, his fingers tracing your jaw and moving down your neck. "i think deep down you still like me."

"no," you responded without missing a beat. his hand was on your chest, feeling the shockwaves of your pulse underneath. "i don't."

"i think you do."

you wanted to badly to smack him in his face but his response was different than you expected. the snark and smugness you were expecting was replaced with a tenderness you were unfamiliar with. or, more accurately, had forgotten he was capable of conveying. he sounded honest. genuine. like he really believed what he was saying. or wanted to, at least.

that's what caused you to let your guard down and let him in. his nose rubbed against yours before he leaned down, giving you a kiss. his large hand cupped your cheek while his other one lifted you off of your back and into his lap. you parted from him and he looked at you with a little smile. "see?"

"that doesn't count," you objected, despite not moving out of your new position. you actually found yourself getting comfortable, placing your legs on both sides of his lap. you could feel his erection growing beneath you.

"sure it does," he insisted, grabbing his hat and putting it back on your head. he laid back on the bed, starting to slowly undo his belt. you didn't dare look down at what he was doing, too stubborn to give him the full satisfaction, but you didn't stop him either. you felt your own arousal becoming stronger. it was hard to ignore when you didn't have any underwear on to begin with.

you soon felt his tip rubbing against your slickness and you sucked in a gasp, getting his attention. he stopped moving, looking up at you for approval to continue. still feeling stubborn, you just looked away and felt him slip inside of you. his hands moved up your thighs and to your hips, repositioning the skirt of your gown. it allowed the two of you to reserve a bit of modesty in your compromising state.

the first movements were shallow and slow, as you were both trying to adjust. it didn't take long for you both to find a rhythm. soft pants and moans came from you as you rode him, his hips thrusting upwards so you weren't doing all the work. you had been resisting from touching him, but as he bounced you on his lap, his hand went to yours. his fingers grazed yours, sloppily laced together as he brought it towards his mouth. he planted a kiss on your palm, placing it on his heart.

shifting your weight, you pressed your hand firmly against his chest and he picked up the pace, his hips snapping up into you. your arm was starting to grow tired and he picked up on it. he sat up, pulling you into him. his face rested in the crook of your neck, his breath fanning against it while his hands slid up your back, one at the top of your spine and the other at your ribs. you continued rocking against him while his mouth made quick work of your neck, sucking at the junction between it and your shoulder.

your moans became embarrassingly loud. you were just glad no one else was around to hear them. jason kissed up the base of your neck until he met your lips, swallowing up all of your sounds. you felt his hat slipping off of your head and you both reached back to catch it, his hand on top of yours. the two of you smiled into the kiss as he readjusted it for you.

feeling your release coming up, you slipped your fingers down to your clit, teasing it to help push yourself over the edge. jason moaned against your lips as he pulled out of you, making a mess on your nightgown. you were too blinded by your own pleasure to yell at him as you continued rubbing yourself. you felt his fingers probing at your entrance, thrusting in and out until you came all over them.

"sorry about the stain," he breathed out, pulling the skirt up in an effort to keep it from touching you. his other hand worked to untie the bow in the back, making it easier for you to get it off. he grabbed his hat from off your head and used it to cover his face while you slipped out of the gown. you set it aside, pulling your blankets up to cover yourself. "are you decent?"

"yes," you answered as he lowered it, giving you a grin before putting it back on your head. your eyes peered upwards at the brim. "i thought you wanted it back."

"i'll come get it later. there are a few men i need to give a stern talking to first," he said, fixing his pants and getting up. "you'll be here when i get back, won't you?"

you raised your brow at him, chuckling. "it's not like i have somewhere else to be."

"i'll be back soon," he winked before walking over to the door. "oh, and darling?"

"...yes?"

"leave that on for me, alright?"

[afictionalwhore]

Mr. Tough Guy

A/N: this is for my dear friend @libiraki as a sort of pick-me-up for bad days 💞 it’s my first time actually writing for Dabi and not messing around so I was nervous af writing for the Dabi Queen 🥺

TW: ??? Soft Dabi???

Word count: 2K

•┈┈┈••✦♡✦••┈┈┈••┈┈┈••✦♡✦••┈┈┈•

You rolled on your side to glance at the clock. Glaring electric numbers and letters taunted you back—2:36 A.M. Dabi wasn’t coming home again tonight. You knew you couldn’t get mad at him; it was Shigaraki always sending him out on ridiculous missions. But you were much too afraid of voicing your complaints to the temperamental man-child, so you contended yourself with being mildly annoyed at your pyro boyfriend. You sighed before pulling his pillow across the bed and over you, spooning it and breathing in the lingering scent.

You were almost asleep, when you felt the mattress dip beside you. Warm, rough arms wrapped around your small frame, pulling you into a lean chest. You felt the gentle tug of staples on the thin shirt you were wearing, shaking you awake just enough to be coherent. 

"So you finally decided to come home?" you sleepily grumble, refusing to turn over to look at him.

A husky, smoke-heavy voice hummed from behind you before you felt Dabi nuzzle his face gently against your back, careful not to hook any more of his staples in your clothes. You were annoyed enough at him coming home so late without him accidentally ripping your shirt or staining it with blood from his charred skin. Dabi breathed you in. 

"You're wearing my shirt, doll," he said, grateful that you were turned away so you wouldn't witness the blush dusting his unscarred cheeks. "You must have really missed me." 

"Don't flatter yourself," you replied. Knowing how much he loved seeing you in his clothes but being unsure of when exactly Dabi would home, you had been going to sleep in his loose shirts. The large scoop neck did next to nothing to hold in your boobs, and the hem typically reached your midthigh standing, rolling up to barely come over your ass in your curled position, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the man himself.

“No, Dabi,” you huffed as he began to slowly grind into your ass. “You stink. How long has it been since you had a bath?”

“How long have I been away again?” You could hear the smile in his voice. Dabi never took a bath without you to help him. Bathing Dabi after a long mission quickly became one of your favorite activities. He knew this and was absolutely using it to get back on your good side, though you didn’t mind the fact at all. His latest excursion was almost two weeks, and you wondered how his league mates could stand him for so long.

“Go warm up some water and get some wash rags.” You told him. 

“Yes ma’am!” Dabi pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek before rolling off the bed, the mattress springs giving a low groan with the shifting of his weight. 

As you rose from your comfy position, swinging your legs over the side of your bed  and planting your feet on the cold floor, you remembered the first time you had given Dabi a bath. 

You had, simply put, a rough day at work. You knew that when working retail, most days would be simply not good, but that day really took the cake. Somehow the blame for everything landed on you, despite the problems originating in different departments. Your fuse was blown short when a middle aged woman insisted she knew more than you, screaming that she wanted to speak to your manager and accusing you of "withholding" items from her when you didn’t take her expired coupon for an item that she didn’t have and you didn’t carry. Somehow "ma'am, we don't even have a back to check. I’m sorry," escalated into "you dumb bitch can't get laid and has to take out her pent up frustration on retail workers." Needless to say, your boss did not appreciate the comment, and you were told you had to be "let go", as though he was trying to break up with you gently instead of firing you.

 You would much rather go out and get something to eat on days like this. Chicken nuggets, fries, something greasy and comforting. Unfortunately for you, you and Dabi had recently started a budget, after a scare of not making rent due to spending too much on delivery and takeout. With your newfound unemployment, you decided the wisest decision would be to just go home and take out your frustration on some poor helpless rice cakes. Spicy but simple was perfect for the day you were having.

That’s what led to you hunched over the stove, saibashi in hand, viciously stirring the bright red sauce into the cylindrical gooey rice cakes.

“I need your help,” Dabi had said, appearing in the small entryway between the kitchen and your bedroom. 

You stopped your stirring. Dabi needing help meant one of two things: he needed to hide a body or he wanted a blow job. After the day you had, you were in no mood to play any of Dabi’s games. You turned fast to face the man, almost giving yourself whiplash and pointing your chopsticks at him as though you would stab him if he didn't choose his next words very carefully. Dabi took a step back and raised his forearms up in surrender.

“What do you want?” you practically growled at the man, shaking your chopsticks and dripping red sauce on the floor below.

“Do you think you could help me take a bath?”

Your eyes went wide with shock before realization of his request set in, and your features immediately softened, the muscles holding you tense relaxing, as Dabi gazed at you with a shy, almost sheepish, expression. You gently set the poor saibashi that were about to snap in your grasp down on the counter beside the stove.

“Okay, baby,” you said, smiling at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling, tears threatening to spill over at his sweet request. “Of course! Why don’t you go get some warm water and a soft rag?”

Since then, Dabi would every so often request help with a bath. It was always something that he had to be the first to mention. This was a side of Dabi you cherished. It was like watching the hummingbirds sip from the nectar feeder outside your window. To ask of it yourself felt almost akin to trapping the bird and keeping it under lock. He would never tell you what it was that made him finally decide to look more after his hygiene. You had the slight feeling that it was his insecurities settling in. Everyone in Dabi's life had abandoned or used him, and you had deduced that he feared you would leave him if he didn’t start to take better care of himself. The scent of light cherry blossoms and sweet peaches radiated from you while he smelled of rotting flesh and old cigarettes.

You made your way to your bathroom, a typical affair for a tiny Tokyo apartment, but it was just enough for you and Dabi. You pushed the sliding glass shower door open and stepped in, knocking over a few almost empty bottles, still clad in just Dabi's white t-shirt. 

He sat on a small stool placed in the center of the shower, glancing up at you as you slid the door open. The seat was just a little too small for him, forcing his knees to bend awkwardly up to his chest as he slouched back over. You drank in the sight of him. From the scars that decorated his chin and the top of his chest, forearms, and legs to the gleam of the staples that just barely held him together. You loved everything about him, despite the patchwork of purple scars that littered his body. You had a feeling deep down that despite his rough exterior, Dabi was insecure about his body. When you had met, he smelled of rotting flesh and cigarettes, and while he still retained the smoke smell, you figured that he began to grow self conscious over how you may have perceived him. 

You started with his face, dipping the soft rag into the bucket of warm, soapy water Dabi had made before pressing it gently over his closed eyes. You made your way around Dabi's face, lightly patting the warm, damp rag against his skin.

Dabi made a small hum in the back of his throat as you made your way to washing his neck, the same gentle patting motion you had used to wash his face. 

"That feels really nice, doll," he sighed.

You moved on to his arms, starting with his right shoulder and gently nudging him to rotate his arm. With as many times as you have done this now, it didn’t take much for Dabi to pick up on your wordless request. You worked your way down his arm and back up, wringing the rag out to run down the drain before dipping it into the clean, mildly soapy water to start washing his left side. 

As you repeated your gentle motions on his left arm, you noticed Dabi staring off. He looked deep in thought, enough to worry you as Dabi usually had a sharp tongue during his baths, hoping to stir you up and enjoying watching your face flush with embarrassment at his crude words on what he planned to do to you to repay you.

“You tired?” you asked, a small smile crossing your face.

“Mmmm” Dabi nodded. “Yea, I guess.” You decided not to push it and rang out the rag again so you could move on to his chest.

As you pat the damp rag onto his collarbone, careful not to let the charred skin get any more damp than what was necessary to keep him feeling fresh and clean, you heard Dabi mumbling.

“What was that?” You looked up at him, eyes wide in fear that you had hurt him. Dabi was still staring off to the side.

“I’m sorry,” Dabi murmured, barely audible despite your closeness. “For being away from you for so long.” He still refused to look at you.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Was Dabi really apologizing? And for something that deep down you both knew wasn’t truly his fault. The Dabi you knew would never, even if bathing Dabi did tend to bring out a softer side of him. You were dreaming. You had to be. You had fallen asleep, waiting for Dabi to come home, and ended up dreaming of bathing your lover. 

“I mean it,” Dabi whispered, looking down at you with bright blue round eyes more befitting of a small husky puppy than a wanted arsonist. "I'm sorry. You put up with so much from me. You could have left at any time while I was away, but you didn't. You just kept waiting and trusting I'd come back." Dabi took in a deep breath. "I think I love you."

Despite his frightening exterior, Dabi was truly quite soft; he just often had trouble expressing that softness. Bathing Dabi brought out a side of him that only you saw, a sweet, lonely man who so desperately wanted to open up to someone but was afraid of being abandoned or worse, betrayed. This was who Dabi really was underneath his tough guy shield. This was the Dabi that you loved. Something must have happened while he was gone to make him really open up to you like this, but you didn’t want to pry; Dabi would share in his own time. Just hearing those three little words was enough for you.

You tried your best to stifle your tears, ducking your head down and dropping the rag in a pitiful attempt to hide your tears. 

“Aw damn,” nothing got past him. “I went and fucked up again didn’t I?”

“No,” you started, sniffling lightly. “No, Dabi. I’m just really happy you’re home. I love you, too.” 

“Hurry up, would ya!” Dabi tried to bark, an attempt to gain back his tough guy act. “You've still got my whole bottom half to do, and I’m getting cold over here!” 

You couldn't help but giggle at him, pressing a sweet peck to the scarred part of his cheek and fully enjoying the blush that crept up the rest of his face.

[cherrycocaineee]

17. Min Yoongi - Aftercare

*Warning - mentions of sex, making out* *Slanted, bold words mean that it’s being spoken in Korean.*

*Min Yoongi’s p.o.v*

      The sweet smell of sex filtered out of the room once I cracked the window open, letting the cool air drift through the hot, sweaty room, emptying it out. Hadley’s tired form was covered by the thin sheet, her sweet, bright brown eyes drooping tiredly. Even though she was tired, she still made an effort to smile at me happily. Chuckling, I crawled back on top of the bed and moved over to her. She turned over to her back and watched as I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

 “Let’s get you taken care of,” I whispered against her fleshy, soft, pink lips.

 “You don’t have to, Yoongi,” she replied, “I’ll do it. You should rest.”

 But I ignored her, gently grabbing her shoulders and pulling her upright. The sheet she was using slipped a little, almost revealing her breast. I looked down at them, spotting the reddish, purple marks I had caused to form after assaulting her flesh with my mouth. Her cheeks started to turn a bit red as she caught me staring.

 “Yoongi,” she whined.

 I took the sheet off of her and pulled her into my arms; her naked form brushing against the cloth of my gray sweatpants. Her head pressed against my shoulder; the feeling of her brown, soft hair touching my skin caused me to shiver. I took her into the bathroom and placed her in the tub. The heat from the hot water mixed with the aroma of the bath bomb and bubbles I had added to it. Vanilla and coffee, the two smells that reminded me of Hadley the most, especially when I was away on tour. Kneeling beside the tub, I grabbed the wash cloth I had pulled out and dipped it in the water. Hadley sunk a little lower into the water, a relaxed breath puffing out as she closed her eyes. I could only smile, feeling absolute love and admiration for the girl sitting in front of me.

  I started dragging the cloth over her body and wiping away the sweat that was still clinging to her skin. My eyes watched her breast move up and down as she continued to breathe; her breath was getting heavier and I couldn’t tell if she was asleep or aroused from all of my touching. Not wanting to take the chance of her being asleep in the water, I reached over and shook her. Her eyes fluttered open.

 “Don’t fall asleep,” I hummed, “it’s dangerous.”

 “Yes sir,” she whispered, tiredly.

 I smiled again and continued to clean her up. Once all of her body was cleaned, I moved to washing her hair, pouring a cup of already soapy water over her head. A soft giggle left her lips as the water showered over her.

 “Yoongi,” she said, “come on, you don’t have to wash my hair too.”

 “Let me spoil you, doll,” I hummed in her ear, “I hardly get to do this being away for so long. And aftercare is important.”

 “Oh fine. But tomorrow, I’m taking care of you.”

 I only hummed in response, letting her go back to relaxing instead of talking. I wanted her to enjoy herself. After washing her hair and rinsing her off, I wrapped a towel around her frame and picked her back up, not caring if I got wet. Placing her on the bed, I went over to the dress and grabbed her brush and hair dryer. It wasn’t good for her to have wet hair.

While I blow dried and brushed her hair, I listened to her read from the book she grabbed off her nightstand. The book was called

“The Great Gatsby”

and it was one of her favorite books. Just hearing her voice when she read from the page made me happy. I stopped the hair dryer and leaned over her shoulder, staring at the book’s pages, unable to read them just yet. However, Hadley was teaching me every day how to read and pretty soon I would be able to read the book to her while she was falling asleep.

   Hadley’s brown eyes turned to look at me, her soft, puppy dog stare watching me curiously.

“Everything okay?” She inquired.

 “Yeah,” I whispered, “I’m just admiring the most beautiful girl in the room.”

 “You’re too kind.”

 I nestled my head into the crook of her neck, she turned back and continued to read a little longer while I rested. After a while, I finished drying and brushing her hair then started her skin care routine. Once again, she tried to tell me to let her do it but I ignored her. My baby deserved much more after sex so this was the least I could do for her. Hadley started laughing when I wiped her makeup off.

 “That tickles,” she laughed.

 All I could do was laugh with her. Hadley told me each step to her normal skin care routine while I did it. I was putting a clay mask on her when she climbed into my lap, wrapping her legs around my waist. When I first arrived, she had asked me if I had worked out because I was starting to get thicker and harder around my torso area. I cleaned my fingers off with a baby wipe just as Hadley reached over and grabbed the clay mask.

 “You do one too,” she said, taking a small amount in her hand and starting to put it on my face.

 I let her put the mask on and couldn’t stop myself from smiling. She was amazing. After putting the clay mask all over my face, she wiped her hands clean and set a timer, telling me that we had to leave it on for 10 minutes before taking it off. In the meantime, I watched Hadley go through her photos on Instagram; recently having posted some photos from her recent trip to the beach with a group of her friends. I enjoyed looking at the photos of her. Soon, she asked me to see the photos from my trip back home. So I showed her the ones I took, and some of the ones Jungkook and Hoseok took of me when I had my hands full.

  We were so content with what we were doing that the sound of Hadley’s alarm going off made us jump. She reached over and grabbed her phone, pressing the off button on her alarm. The two of us headed into the bathroom again and started rinsing off the clay mask that now felt like a sticky paste, ready to be taken off.

 Hadley used warm water to rub the clay off her face, her fingers moving in swift circles. I followed in her footsteps and did the same, watching her as she made sure to get every spot and carefully moving around her eyes and mouth so the clay didn’t touch there. Once all  the clay was gone, she dabbed her face gently with a soft towel, her name printed on it, then handed it to me so I could do the same. I started rubbing my face when she stopped me.

 “No silly,” she smiled, “dab, don’t rub.”

 Nodding my head, I started dabbing the water off my skin; her fingers still lingering against my skin as I did so. Our eyes locked. Setting the towel on the counter, I grabbed her hands and moved closer to her, my lips becoming incredibly close to hers.

 “I love you,” I said to her.

 “I love you too,” she said.

 My lips collided with hers, moving softly at first but then getting rougher with each passing second. Hadley’s arms wrapped around my neck as mine wrapped around her waist. I lifted her up, placing her bare ass on the counter top, our lips never disconnecting. Her small fingers tangled themselves into my hair as she moaned into my mouth. I slid my hands down to her thighs and squeezed, causing her to gasp leaving an opening for me to slip my tongue in. She moaned a bit louder when she felt my tongue exploring the inside of her wet cavern.

  Because of the lack of air, I had to pull away, panting and watching the small drip of drool pull from between us. My lustful eyes staring into her submissive eyes. Not a single word left our lips, but we were interrupted by the sound of my phone going off. Groaning, I removed my hands from her thighs and headed out of the bathroom to see who was interrupting my time with Hadley. Hadley followed soon after, grabbing one of her t-shirts from her drawer and throwing it on, not bothering to put on any panties, and climbed into bed.

I pressed the answer call, seeing that Jungkook was calling, and pushed the screen to my ear.

“Jungkook, why are you calling?”

I asked, stealing a quick glance at Hadley, hoping she wouldn’t fall asleep yet.

 “I was told to see when you’re coming home,”

he replied,

“we have a big photoshoot tomorrow, so no one wants you to be late.”

 “I’m not coming back home tonight. I’m spending the evening with Hadley.”

 It was almost silent on the other end as Jungkook was relaying my message to whoever wanted to know my whereabouts. A few moments passed and Jungkook came back to the phone.

 “Okay, just make sure that you’re here before noon. That’s when the photoshoot is.”

 “Alright. I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Goodnight, tell the others goodnight too.”

 “Goodnight, hyung. Tell Hadley I said goodnight! Bring her to the photoshoot tomorrow if she can come.”

 I wasn’t able to get another word out because Jungkook hung up quickly. Sighing, I placed my phone on the dresser and turned to see Hadley laying in bed, her eyes closed. Smiling, I climbed under the covers with her and wrapped my arms around her waist. She looked up at me.  “Goodnight, Yoongi. Thank you for taking care of me.”  “Goodnight, my love. I’ll always take care of you.”  With that, the two of us fell asleep in each other's arms. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of us breathing and the wind drafting through the room, still ridding the air of our previous sexual encounter. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was able to sleep peacefully. Not worrying about the manager walking in and telling me to get up, or the others walking in to wake me up so I can fix something. I could just sleep with the girl I loved. And I couldn’t picture anything better.

[some-kindofgnome]

sick day

Hawks comes home after a few days away. You’ve come down with a nasty cold in his absence. 

characters: takami keigo (hawks) x f!reader

wc: 2.2k

warnings: smut (18+ please!), reader with a head cold (lil snot action here and there), soft soft SOFT hawks who goes down on u in the morning >:) 

requests: from 2 anons!: I have a request ! I love me some hawks taking care of his sick s/o and when they are better ! He pounces for sex ! Huzzah

&

I’m in desperate need of a hawks taking care of his sick s/o , also because I love your work and also because I’m sick and want to take care of me.

notes: i. adore. writing soft hawks. i just want him to take care of me oh-kay? let this man love. please! 💖 

Masterlist

You’re so sick when Hawks get in, you’ve almost forgotten how long he was away.

After a growing mission took him away from the city for a few days, he gets back early in the afternoon with the sun streaming into the kitchen windows. And with you, hunched over your laptop at the counter with tissues littering the counter and floor around you.

“Hey, bluebird,” he calls as his keys jingle in the door. “God, it’s only getting colder out there by the minute now. How’s you- oh, no.”

When he spots the mess you’ve become, his little mission bag slips to the tiled floor, pulling you out of your fever-induced trance. You tear burning eyes away from your document, and the smile that crosses your face is sleepy and swollen.

“Hey babe,” you sniffle. It’s evident in your voice, your body language, everything. Keigo’s only been gone a couple of days, but it was long enough for you to come down with a nasty little bug.

“How was your trip?”

He cringes at the congested sound of your voice. Sucks in a deep little breath through his teeth.

“What are you doing?” He asks. “Are you working?”

You glance guiltily over your shoulder at your laptop. “Well, yeah, I-I was feeling alright this morning, so I-“

“No way,” he interrupts firmly. He’s already shrugging out of his hero clothes. They’re streaked with soot and mud, but he’s going to worry about himself later.

He comes up behind you jacketless, belt already unbuckled and jingling loose around his thighs. He sets one hand on your shoulder and the other on the back of the chair next to you.

“Email your boss,” he rumbles. “Tell her you’re taking the afternoon off. Tell her you’re sick, for the love of god.”

“Babe, I can work,” you plead. “It’s a cold. I’m not dying.”

“You need to rest,” he argues. He brings both hands to your shoulders, digging his thumbs gently against your aching muscles. You try your best to hide how sensitive they are, but you can’t help the little spasms that make you twitch and sigh.

“C’mon,” he hums, dipping close. He pushes a kiss against the sensitive spot behind your ear, and you catch the soft, musky scent of the sweat that clings to his hairline. He smells earthy and cold, like he’s been outside a while.

Maybe he flew all the way back here.

“We both need showers,” he offers. And when he rumbles it all low and tempting in your ear, there’s no way you can put up much of a fight.

“Okay,” you groan. Keigo turns away with a triumphant pump of his fist. You try to keep the idiotic grin off your face as you open a new email. To no avail.

You and your boss have a close enough relationship that it’s easy for you to type out a casual little email explaining everything to her. She gets back to you right away, and even though you’re too busy being dragged to the bathroom, you can tell by the first few lines of the email that it’s all fine by her.

You kind of regret not telling her before about the fever you’re running. But none of that matters now. You’ve got the last few hours of the afternoon off, and you intend on spending at least some of that time in the shower with Keigo.

He’s already naked and warming up the water for you. You want to ache for him- he’s been away all weekend, after all- but you’re both too exhausted to do anything but climb under the water together. You pause for a moment with rivulets running over both your bodies, and he cups your cheeks, biting his lower lip hard as conflict floods his features.

“I wanna kiss you so bad right now,” he groans.

“I missed you, too,” you giggle back, reaching up to push your wet fingers through his soaking hair. “But I wouldn’t wish this shit on my worst enemy.”

He knows you’re right, settling for a soft little kiss to your shoulder instead. He turns you around and lets warm water spray down your back as he rubs your shoulders, your neck, working all the tension from your muscles. The pain in your head whittles away the longer you stand there, and before long it’s nothing more than a dull throb while he’s reaching for the shampoo.

There’s no feeling you love more than Keigo washing your hair for you. His fingers are attentive and devoted, scratching itches you never realized were bothering you. He scrunches his fingers through the ends of your hair before reaching for the removable shower head, smoothing one rinsed palm over your forehead to tilt your head back.

“Eyes closed,” he coos. You’re still smiling like a goddamned idiot.

The suds sluice down your back as he passes the shower wand over your hair. The bubbles send wafts of fragrance through your senses. There’s nothing like coconut-scented shampoo when winter closes in on the city. It’s like a little trip to the beach, every time you get in the shower.

It was Keigo’s idea.  

He combs loving fingers coated with slippery conditioner through your hair. He lathers up your favourite body wash and trails his slick fingers over your tired skin. You can feel him getting excited behind you, but you’re both too tired to do anything about it. All he does is pull you lovingly back against his chest, letting his half-hard cock rest against the curve of your ass. He lays another soft kiss to the crook of your shoulder and you let out a deep, drippy sigh.

“C’mon,” he rumbles into your ear, tender like a dove. “Let’s get out before your nose starts to run, yeah?”

He dries himself off quickly, leaving you the bathroom for a few minutes. Wrapping your fluffy towel around your shoulders, you pad across the heated tile to pluck a tissue from the box by the mirror.

You blow. Hard. The steam lingering in the room helps to dislodge some of your congestion, and you emerge from the bathroom with the newfound ability to breathe through your left nostril.

Progress.

When you get into the bedroom, there are clothes laid out for you. Your favourite pair of clean sweatpants and one of Hawks’ t-shirts. You slip into the pants and give the t-shirt a little cuddle, burying your nose into the fabric and smiling when you catch the barest whiff of his spicy scent through your dulled senses.

You don’t even notice that the blankets are gone from the bed until you realize where they’ve been moved. As you emerge from your shared bedroom, you immediately spot the fluffy duvet and pillows spread out on the couch.

Hawks is in the kitchen, tapping away on his phone. When he spots you, he smiles so tender and soft it makes your sick little heart swell. He gives a little nod toward the couch as his wings bristle gently, encouraging.

“Go on,” he quips. “Get comfy.”

He comes around the side of the counter as you curl into the nest of pillows and gets down on his knees beside you.

“Here we go,” he hums. “A warm little nest for my cozy little bluebird.” He tugs the edges of the blanket back over and around you, wrapping you up in the fluffy comforter like a sick little sushi roll. Once you’re well tucked in, he smooths the hair back from your forehead. His chin juts forward- he wants to kiss you- but he restrains himself.

“I ordered you some food, okay?”

You snuggle deeper into your cozy retreat, until only your eyes and nose poke over the top of the blankets. The soft, soapy scent of the laundry detergent you use sends sweet washes of comfort through your tired brain.

“What kind of food?”

“Noodle soup,” he hums. You can tell he’s restraining the urge to grin as he looks you over. God, you’ve missed him. “From that place down the road.”

“Yum,” you gasp. You fiddle with the edges of your blanket to shove one hand out the side, grabbing his fingers and giving them a loving little squeeze. He chuckles, taking your hand between both of his and stroking the back of your palm over with both thumbs.

“Here,” he adds. He twists over one shoulder, grabbing the remote for the TV. “Put on anything you want. The food’ll be here soon, and then you can eat and go to bed, yeah?”

He glanced toward the armchair, not far from the couch. You try to hide the way your heart sinks.

He’s still got work to do.

“Sounds good,” you mumble, taking the cool plastic remote from his hand. You think about putting something on for the two of you, but he’s given you express instructions to indulge. So you find the show that brings you the most comfort and let its familiar sounds bring you down from the edge of a demanding work day.

When the food arrives, you sit up and slurp your noodles diligently. He keeps refilling your water, giving you a little dose of cold medication once you’ve got something in your stomach.

He’s ordered a bowl of soup for himself, too, but it stays largely untouched as he taps away on his laptop, finishing the report for the mission he’d raced back from, no doubt.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you half-wake to the sleepy sensation of being lifted. In a drowsy stupor you don’t even open your eyes, simply letting your head rock forward against Keigo’s familiar chest as he carries you to bed.

The next morning, you feel like a changed person.

The first thing you realize when you open your eyes is that you can breathe through your nose. Both sides. The passages of your sinus are so clear they nearly hurt, but you take deep, greedy breaths, revelling in your ability to clear your sleepy head with fresh, cool oxygen.

The second thing you notice is the very mischievous bird in the sheets beside you.

“G’morning, bluebird.”

He snuggles close to you, dropping a sordid kiss to your shoulder. He trails kisses into the crook of your neck and his hot breath tickles your tender skin in a way that you’ve dearly missed.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” you conclude with a drowsy little smile. Your limbs have a pleasant, sleepy weight to them, but he’s quickly wearing the ache of rest from your tired eyes.

“Like… I’m probably not contagious anymore.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

“God,” he sighs, rolling on top of you. He dips his mouth to yours, soft at first, then insistent. “I missed ya, kid.”

He kisses all the way down the side of your neck again, drawing tight little shivers from the length of your spine. He’s impatient, though, pushing your t-shirt up and curling his fingers into the loose hem of your sweatpants to rid you of them quickly.

He pushes your thighs apart, settling onto his belly between them. His wings dip and fold gracefully behind his back. You reach out and stroke the apex of one of them, making it flutter. He shoots you a sly grin and you watch the way his hips dip into the mattress.

Fuck, it feels good to be horny again.

Keigo kisses and nips a long path up the inside of one sensitive thigh, leaving tiny little welts where he sooths his tongue over your flesh. By the time he gets to the joint of your pelvis, you’re squirming for him, achy and needing.

“Fuck,” he sighs, nozing at the apex of one thigh. He takes a deep inhale and kisses there. “I missed this.”

He licks, gentle and loving. You keen and sigh. The sensation is beautifully familiar- even more so as he finds the swell of your clit, pushing a scruffy kiss to it and then starting to suck.

Keigo always eats you out sloppy. But it drives you crazy, the way he slides his arms under your thighs to leverage your hips against his face. The way he licks and slurps at you shamelessly, unafraid to overwhelm your sensitive form. His fingers dig gently into the meat of your thighs when he finds the tenderest angle from which to attack your clit, and you ride a wave of pleasure so smooth that it clears the last vestiges of your cloudy headache from the edges of your temples.

He makes you cum hard, letting you dive your fingers into his hair and pull while he feasts on your pussy. When he pulls back from between your thighs, his scruff is slick with spit and you and he’s licking his lips like they’re coated in honey.

“Hmm, fuck,” he groans, rolling his hips into the mattress again before climbing to his knees. “God. You gave me so much, bluebird.” He wipes his chin on the back of his hand, examining the sheen of your juices with a wolfish grin.

If he was hard before he’s straining now, but he bats his hands away before you can even get close.

“No way,” he quips, climbing out of bed. “You need to rest more.”

“Aw, c’mon,” you fuss. But Keigo’s firm.

“Stay in bed, bluebird. I gotcha.” He moves toward the door of your bedroom, then glances over his shoulder and grins.

“How d’you feel about pancakes?”

There’s no instance that Keigo’s tried to make pancakes that hasn’t ended in sheer disaster. But you’ve missed him too much not to adore him for trying. You pull the blankets back over your spent form, beaming at him from the pillows.

“Sounds good.”

[honey-dewey]

The Dog Days of Summer

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 1,923

Warnings: A few mentions of Tom, but this is all fluff!

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

On one of the warmest days of summer, Frankie takes his dog to a one man dog wash. The last thing he expected was for his dog to lead him to the future love of his life, but hey, that’s how things work here. 

“Community dog wash,” Frankie read off the flier that had been placed in his mailbox. “What do you think Red? Wanna go check it out?”

Red huffed from his spot on the couch.

Frankie chuckled, sitting beside Red. He’d always been a dog person, but could never see himself owning one. At least, not until he’d come home from his latest mission. When Tom had died, he’d left his beautiful Rottweiler dog to the boys. Apparently his wife and daughter weren’t dog people. The Millers couldn’t take Red, and Santi still hadn’t come back to the country. So the care of Red had fallen to Frankie.

Red was not a small dog. At almost 120 pounds, he could’ve been a menace if he wanted to. However, he was gentle as can be and so incredibly enthusiastic for literally anything. Frankie could still remember when Tom had brought Red to meet the boys, and he’d been a tiny fuzzy puppy who’d fallen asleep cradled in Frankie’s arms. Now, that baby was nearing 5, and was no less adorable.

The only thing Frankie hated about Red was having to bathe him.

Red was a menace on bath day. He cowered in the corner of the shower, never got close enough to the shower head to actually get clean, and bit Frankie when he tried to dry him off.

“I think we should go,” Frankie said, scratching behind Red’s ear. “Check it out. You might make some friends.”

Red boofed softly. Sometimes, he responded at just the right times and Frankie could’ve sworn he understood him.

Nearer to noon, Frankie got up off the couch and got dressed, Red dutifully following him and vibrating with excitement at Frankie put his harness on and led him to his truck.

The location of the dog wash wasn’t far. In fact, it was a few minutes away in a small public space. There were a few kiddie pools, a hose, and a single person standing there, drying off a small dog. A handmade sign read ‘Community Dog Wash.’

Frankie kept a firm hand on Red’s leash as he walked over. Tom had trained Red well, but he was still prone to overeager introductions or forgetting he was a big dog.

“Alrighty Ms. Avery, Lydia’s all clean!” you said, handing Ms. Avery her small dog back. Today was one of the nice days of summer, warm without being stifling. So you’d donned shorts, an old shirt, and a baseball cap you’d gotten from a friend and headed out to wash the neighborhood dogs. You did it every summer, and this year was no exception.

“Hello,” a slightly nervous voice said, and you looked around. A man who you’d seen once or twice around the neighborhood was standing there, a practically vibrating Rottie standing by his side. “Is this the dog wash?”

“Yep!” You said happily, kneeling down to introduce yourself to the dog. “Hello, who’re you?”

The man pat the dog’s head. “This is Red.”

Red, seizing his opportunity, licked your face.

“Red!” The man reprimanded, causing Red to whine. “No!”

“Oh it’s fine,” you reassured, wiping your face with your sleeve. “My dog is so much worse.”

As if on cue, your dog came ambling over. The man’s eyes went wide. “That’s not a dog. That’s a small bear.”

You reached up and scratched behind your dog’s ears. “Nah. She’s a Caucasian Shepherd dog. Her name is Oboe, short for Oberon.”

“Like the Game of Thrones character?”

“Midsummer’s Night Dream actually,” you said. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Frankie.”

You stood, brushing yourself off. “Well, Frankie. Shall we?”

Red was very eager to follow you right up until he discovered this would include water. At which he pulled on his leash and whined pitifully, trying to escape.

“I’m so sorry,” Frankie said as you stood by one of the pools and tried to contain your laughter. “He’s always like this when I try to bathe him.”

Oboe snorted, as if she was laughing. She had curled on the grass, bathing in the warm summer sun. You sighed. You’d have to get her some ice, or else she’d overheat herself.

You walked over to Red, grabbing him and lifting him with ease, which shocked Frankie. He stood there, wide eyed, as you plopped Red in the kiddie pool and got in with him, straddling the dog and squeezing his hips with your legs. “See, this isn’t so bad.”

Red whined and tried to run, but your grip on him tightened. “Frankie, can you hand me the hose?”

Frankie grabbed the hose and handed it to you, smiling as Red gave him a very betrayed look. “Sorry buddy,” he said, kneeling down. “But you smell.”

You gasped overdramatically. “No!” You said, smiling. “He smells just fine!”

Frankie laughed. “Mhm. Sure he does.”

Getting Red wet wasn’t hard. Between the pool and the hose, he was soaked in minutes. However, Frankie had to shed his shoes and join you in the pool because Red wouldn’t sit still. Now, with Red soaked and both of you getting sore, you reached to grab the soap and immediately got a face full of water as Red shook violently.

“Red!” You gasped, looking down at yourself. You’d been a bit damp from your previous dogs, but this wasn’t just a bit wet. Water raced down your arms and legs, and you completely abandoned your ball cap, sighing. “Gonna have to wash that.”

Frankie mirrored your action, tossing his hat beside yours. “Yeah. He’s prone to shaking. Sorry.” His face was just as wet as yours, water dripping off his chin and cheeks.

You shrugged, putting soap in your hands and throwing your leg over Red’s back again. “It’s fine,” you said, starting to lather the soap into Red’s fur. “Oboe’s got all that long fur, and when she shakes, it’s hell.”

Frankie nodded. “Where’d you even find her?”

“A breeder,” you said, scratching Red’s shoulder and laughing as he began to kick. “Breeder was a good friend of mine, and she had a puppy who no one wanted because she was the runt. I had just moved here, and said screw it, I’ll take her. They named her Oberon. All the puppies in that litter had Midsummer names.”

“She’s a runt?” Frankie looked at Oboe, surprised.

You nodded. “She was,” you said. “She’s actually still on the small side for her breed.” Red squirmed out of your soapy grip, but Frankie caught him before he could make a getaway. You smiled and picked up the hose. “Red, stop squirming.”

Red didn’t listen. He continued to wriggle, now trying to bite the hose water. You used one hand to clear the soap from Red’s fur, grinning as he kissed your chin when you bent down.

“So, how’d you end up with Red?” You asked, looking up briefly at Frankie.

“Oh.” He was quiet for a second. “I was in the military, and we lost a good man on a mission not too long ago. Red was his dog.”

You paused in your actions. “I’m so sorry.”

Frankie shrugged halfheartedly, still crouched in the water. “It took a while, but we recovered.”

Red gave you no time to feel much regret about your words. Instead, he tried to bite you as you washed his paws, and you gave him a light bop on the nose. Not enough to hurt him in any way, but enough to warn him. He didn’t try again, thankfully.

Once Red’s front paws were clean, you turned around and started to wash Red’s back half. Oboe had joined the fray, licking moisture out of Frankie’s shirt. He didn’t seem to mind much as he held Red’s face and kept him from going anywhere. As you scratched your nails over Red’s butt, he began to wiggle harder, one leg coming up and then the other.

“He’s dancing!” You said joyfully, continuing to scratch. Frankie laughed, watching Red kick.

Finishing your job only took a few more minutes, and then you were drying Red off and strapping him into his harness again. He kissed you anytime you came close to his face, and you laughed when his entire back half wiggled when he tried to wag his tail.

“Alright,” you said, finally done. “He’s as clean as he’s gonna get!”

“It’ll last all of ten minutes,” Frankie promised, picking his hat up but not putting it on. “I’ll see you around?”

You nodded. “Of course. I’m here every weekend to play with Oboe. We haven’t got a huge backyard, and she likes to run.”

Frankie smiled. “Maybe we’ll have to come play with you and Oboe one weekend.”

“I think we’d both like that.”

Frankie left after that, and you watched him herd Red into his truck. He waved as he drove off, and you waved back.

“Alright Oboe,” you said, turning back to your dog, who was chewing absently on the brim of your hat. “Hey!”

You pulled the hat from her mouth and immediately felt your stomach flip. This wasn’t your hat. The oil company logo was faded and unfamiliar, and you looked around. Frankie’s truck was nowhere to be seen. He probably hadn’t even noticed he’d left with your hat instead of his.

After an hour, the sun got to be too much, and you relented, putting Frankie’s hat on your head. You had to adjust it so it would fit, but it did a decent job of keeping the sun off your face.

When you finally ended up home, you hung the hat up and let Oboe loose in the house. She immediately curled up in her bed, and you slowly made yourself dinner. You were halfway through chopping some vegetables when your phone rang.

“Hello?” You wedged the phone between your shoulder and ear.

“Hey.”

You smiled. “Frankie!”

Frankie chuckled. “I think you have something of mine.”

“I could say the same about you,” you said, glancing at the hat on your coat hook by the door.

“Yeah. Sorry about that,” Frankie said. “Glad you wrote your number in it though.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot I did that,” you admitted, dumping the vegetables into a bowl. “Oboe and I are going to go back to the community space tomorrow to watch the neighborhood soccer team play. Wanna come with?”

Frankie was quiet for a second, and you could hear shuffling. When he spoke again, he sounded strained. “Yeah. Sorry, Red had my shoe.”

You laughed. “Tell that rascal he needs to be nice to his daddy!”

Red barked in the background, and you smiled. “Anyway, tomorrow. The team plays at noon, but I’m always there at eleven to help set up.”

“I can be there at noon,” Frankie said. “I won’t bring Red though. He’s spending the day with his uncles.”

You leaned against your counter and tried to wipe your grin off your face. “It’ll just be the two of us. And Oboe.”

Oboe looked up when you said her name, but quickly went right back to sleep.

“That works,” Frankie promised. “This almost sounds like a date.”

You tried to cover your nervousness. “Maybe it is a date.”

Frankie had a grin in his voice when he spoke again. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.”

“Same here.”

“I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be seeing you. Don’t forget my hat.”

“Don’t forget mine,” Frankie replied. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you echoed, hanging up and looking at Oboe. “Oboe. I think I’m in love.”

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

Rest

Characters: James Conrad x Reader

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Conrad knows exactly what buttons to push to get you to come to bed.

A/N: This is my response to a request by @vodka-and-some-sass that read: Hello! Could you please do a fluffy Conrad piece where the reader is completely exhausted but will not stop to rest and Conrad tries to coerce her to rest with sinful promises but by the time she agrees and makes it to the bed, she’s half asleep and he takes care of her and lots of cuddles please!

I hope that this meets all your expectations, lovely!

Permanent taglist (open): @yespolkadotkitty @nonsensicalobsessions @just-the-hiddles @vodka-and-some-sass @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @myoxisbroken @blah666 @brokenthelovely @myworddump @polireader @wiczer @littleredstarfish @the-broken-angel-13 @arch-venus25 @xxloki81xx​

“I just need to fold the last of these clothes and I’ll take a break.”

“Promise that I’ll come cuddle you on the couch after I clean out the fridge.”

“Just wait until I finish sweeping the floor, please.”

He was trying his best to get you to take a break, to just stop for a second and let yourself rest, but you were bound and determined to get everything checked off of your monumental to-do list. How could you rest knowing that so much was left to be done? Sure, you felt like you were about to collapse from exhaustion, but for now you could ride the momentum you had established throughout the long day to at least get one more thing done. Then you’d rest.

Maybe.

The next time that Conrad approached you, snaking his arms around your waist as you leaned over the sink, up to your forearms in rapidly cooling soapy water and scrubbing the dishes, you sighed. “I need to finish these dishes.”

He pressed the length of his torso against your back, his warmth radiating through your clothes to slowly loosen the tense muscles of your back. It was heavenly. You leaned back against him, even as you continued to scrub a plate used for dinner. The repetitive action made your hips rock back and forth slightly, and you felt the beginnings of his arousal stir against your lower back.

His lips brushed soft kisses against the side of your neck, as delicate as the breath that fell from his parted lips and raised goosebumps across your skin. “You need,” another kiss just below your ear, “to rest,” his fingers dug gently into the soft skin of your stomach, “in bed with me.” He finished the statement by reaching up and tugging the sleeve of your shirt to the side to leave another on the top of your shoulder.

Your hands stilled in the soapy water and your head fell back to lean against his shoulder, rolling to the side to give him better access to the column of your throat to focus his intoxicating attention upon. "James. Conrad…"

He hummed his questioning reply against you, the sound vibrating down your spine to settle in a dull ache between your legs. His deft fingers smoothed over your stomach, just grazing the underside of your breasts before kneading into the swell of your hips. "Come, let me take care of you, darling. The dishes can wait, but my desire for you cannot.”

It would be so much easier to focus if the rasp of the faintest bit of stubble on his razor-sharp jawline didn’t make your blood quicken in your veins. You felt his heartbeat through your clothing, steady and strong as the bands of his arms holding you to him. “I can’t fully show you my appreciation that you deserve for working so hard for me today on the kitchen counter. Go to bed, and I’ll follow you to make the break worth your while. Go on, now," he said firmly, pulling away and steering you away from the sink, tapping you on your bottom to send you on your way.

Your will crumbled at the sight of him watching you from in front of the sink, darkness in his icy blue eyes and a hint of mischief tugging on the corners of his lips. He nodded his head in the direction he had sent you toward. Your heart threatened to burst from your chest as you trailed your gaze down his golden skin to his faded blue t-shirt, highlighting the muscles of his back that your fingertips knew intimately. Taking a short break wouldn't hurt if your hands could follow the path that your eyes blazed down his body.

The weak stirrings of arousal simmered low inside of you, fighting with the fatigue that had settled like lead in your bones several hours ago. You did as he commanded, dragging your eyes away from him and your feet back to your bedroom. You had every intention of following his command, perhaps undressing to just your underwear and stretching out provocatively across the bed to wait for him to ravish you.

But, you were powerless to resist the siren song of the down comforter, face-planting onto it and sighing into its plush softness. All the tension leaked out of your body, and you promised yourself you would move after you rested your eyes for just a few minutes…

The cool air against your skin pulled you from your awkward doze on the bed, and you tried to curl up into yourself against it, stopped by large hands splaying across your spine and your ribcage.

“Be still,” Conrad instructed you, brokering no argument even with the gentle lilt to his rumbling baritone, roughened with affection.

You huffed out an incoherent response, lazily tossing your arms above your head when his hands skimmed up your sides, gathering your shirt on the way. The bed pitched beneath you, and the shirt was removed from you completely.

He removed your bra quickly, a low chuckle sounding from somewhere above you when you shivered and turned your face into the bedding. It smelled like him, cedar and spicy cinnamon and clean soap, beckoning you closer to sleep with the comforting blanket it smoothed over your senses. Calloused fingers tugged off your bottoms, leaving you a chilly ball of exhaustion in the middle of the bed.

“Arms out and you’ll be warm soon enough.”

That promise, delivered from the one you trusted most in the world, had you unfurling your arms from where they had tucked into your chest. Cotton worn soft through multiple washings slipped over your arms, your head lifted carefully through it by his steady hand. In one smooth motion, his arms slipped underneath your knees and around your back, lifting you up against his bare chest.

You nuzzled into him, the addictive scent of his skin a balm on your frazzled nerves, your palms finding homes over his sizable pectoral muscles easily enough. “You smell nice,” you mumbled, practically purring against the pleasant heat of his skin, teasing your fingers through his light patch of golden chest hair.

“So do you,” he replied, his smile audible in his quiet voice.

You shifted in his arms as he moved about, and then the mattress was beneath your side, conforming to the shape of your body perfectly, Conrad at your back following suit. He had always complained that the mattress was too soft, so unlike what he had slept on throughout his years working as a soldier and then as a tracker for hire, but he had given in when you sighed in utter delight every time you were cradled in its luxurious embrace. Now it wasn’t uncommon to find him sleeping in during the weekends, the intensity of him softened by slumber, lines of stress from years of hardship replaced by sleepy smiles and sparkling eyes.

The hard planes of his body aligned perfectly with your curves, wrapped around your back and cuddling you close. He smoothed your hair against your head, anchoring his mouth to the nape of your neck and his arm around your waist, the other sliding out of the way underneath your pillow. Cushioned in his loving embrace underneath your silky-smooth sheets, the weariness that had been clawing at you all day slowly crept closer.

“You did that on purpose.”

“Coerce you to bed knowing that you’d give in to your exhaustion once you stilled in my arms?” He tangled your legs together, hissing quietly from your frigid toes pressing into his calf muscles. “That suggests that I am a man of planning and forethought. I simply find it against my moral judgment to make love to an unconscious woman. In the morning, if you go to sleep without any more fuss, I will have you. I give you my word.”

You laced your fingers with his over your belly. “‘ll hold you to it, Conrad…”

“Sleep now, darling. I’ve got you.”

To deny such a tender request, delivered from none other than your love with warm lips against your chilled skin, was impossible. You snuggled back into him, falling asleep secure in his strong embrace.

[emybain]

Heroes In the End

me, posting unedited fanfics after reading supernova and Not Being Okay:  renegades fandom come get yall fics!

SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA 

SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA

SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA

   Hot water ran down from the faucet above Nova’s head, sending tingles down her scalp as she stood inside the shower. Adrian’s shower. Another tingle ran down her spine. She raised her head up, letting the near-scalding water hit her face. It was a feeling she couldn’t quite describe, but it made her never want to get out. 

    In all her almost-seventeen years of living, Nova couldn’t remember a time when she had a shower, much less a hot one. There were the ones she had during her time in Cragmoor, but she preferred not to think of that place. In the apartment from her early years, she had vague memories of her mother bathing her in a tiny bathroom in lukewarm water. Sometimes, when there were clean water shortages, as there were often, Nova would sit in a dry bathtub as her mother used a sponge and a bucket full of soapy water to wash her. In the subway tunnels and even in the row house on Wallowridge, Nova had taken to a similar method, washing herself using a bucket of cold water and a sponge and cheap soap. 

    Now, she stared at the rack in the shower that held two different brands of tubes that were a shampoo and conditioner combination, a bar of soap that looked unused, and a tube of body wash. Upon inspecting the tubes, she noticed how they all smelled of Adrian, sending her heart skipping. 

    After what seemed like an eternity, Nova turned off the water and stepped out into Adrian’s bathroom, her bare toes stretching on the squishy mat beneath her feet. She reached for a clean towel that sat folded on a shelf above the toilet, wrapping it around her body and almost melting at its softness. Sweet rot, Adrian was spoiled. 

    Drying her hair with the edge of the towel, Nova’s eyes wandered around the fairly sized space, landing on a pile of clothes resting on the counter next to the door that were not there before. Her breath came short as panic rose in her throat. She must’ve forgotten to lock the door. What if Adrian had seen her? She was instantly mortified, but forced herself to calm down. Adrian wasn’t like that, and besides, how much did Nova really care? She was exhausted and sore and drained; the boy she may be in love with seeing her butt naked should’ve been the least of her worries. The clothes were placed carefully right beside the door, so she bet he had just reached a hand in and set them down for her. Embarrassment was quickly replaced with endearment. Nova had just planned on throwing her old clothing, her Nightmare uniform, back on and dealing with it, but this wonderful, amazing boy brought her clean clothing. 

    It was nothing special, just a pair of gray sweatpants that were way too long for Nova, even though she could tell they were old from the small holes here and there and the fact that they were too short for Adrian’s long legs, and a plain navy blue hoodie that had a faded logo. Getting dressed, she rolled the pant legs up until they rested comfortably at her ankle and pushed up the sleeves of the hoodie, ignoring the way that it was loose around her neck. It was quite possibly the most comfortable Nova had ever felt. The hoodie was softer than it looked, the fabric brushing Nova’s back and providing a cozy warmth. 

    It had been....a long night. After the events at the cathedral, Captain Chromium forced Adrian, his team, Max, and Nova straight to the nearest healers who were already attending to wounded Renegades. It seemed that there had been a hiccup in their work due to Max and the supernova that had occurred, but when Adrian and the others showed up, they were hard at work. Hugh and Simon refused to stay with them, along with the other surviving Council members, insisting that they had their own duties to attend to, people to speak with, and media to answer questions for. The destruction caused by her uncle had been reversed by Max, yes, but Gatlon was still shaken and hurting from his attack, and Nova had a feeling it would take a while for the city to fully recover from the trauma of one night. 

    The healers got to work on their misfit group, fixing cuts and bruises and tending to the more serious injuries, such as Adrian’s mutilations, Max’s sprained ankle, and the stings that peppered Nova’s arms. She had asked about a concussion, head throbbing, and was surprised when their testing results came back negative. It must’ve been the vitality charm’s work. There was no other explanation for how she was fine, well, about as fine as she could be, after being thrown twenty feet by Ace. 

    It had seemed like forever before they were allowed to leave, Max receiving a piggy back ride from Adrian, his ankle thickly wrapped in bandages and barefoot. Nova remembered noticing the lines of exhaustion on Adrian’s face, remembered how his muscles moved slowly from soreness, but he seemed elated to be able to carry his brother. 

    They were sent away by the Council, told that everything was under control and they needed to go home and rest. After a bit of complaining and arguing, they finally caved to the Council’s request. Danna, Oscar, and Ruby parted ways, only Oscar and Ruby bidding Nova goodbye. Nova had eyed them suspiciously as the three had walked away, noting that Oscar and Ruby were holding hands. 

    It was when she was left alone with Adrian and Max, who had already passed out and had his head lolled on Adrian’s shoulder, that Nova had realized she had nowhere to go. The house on Wallowridge was gone, the subway tunnels were out of the question. There was the pawn shop, but the thought produced a sour taste in Nova’s mouth. Adrian must’ve understood, for he nodded his head, saying there was plenty of room at his house. Nova, grateful and undeserving and too tired to even argue, had followed him. 

    It was now in the early, early morning, but Nova could tell from the noises outside that Gatlon was not asleep. Every half hour or so, sirens went off. Car doors could be heard slamming from the neighbors. 

    She felt ten pounds lighter as she stepped out of the bathroom and into Adrian’s dark room, welcoming the soft carpet on her feet. She was clean, truly clean, having let more than just dirt and dried blood go down the drain during her long and needed shower.

    A sweep of the room showed her that Adrian was not there, probably upstairs with Max who had insisted on sleeping on the second floor, curiosity overcoming his tired body at what was up there despite Adrian warning him that it was haunted. As if summoned by her thoughts, Adrian padded down the stairs, a glass in water in his hand. He stopped when he saw Nova, lips quirked up as he eyed her attire up and down. Compared to just hours before, Nova was probably the least intimidating thing he had seen. 

    He had showered too, evident by his clean face and fresh clothing. Nova cleared her throat, breaking eye contact to gesture to her clothes. 

    “Thank you for these.”

    “Of course.” Adrian shrugged. “I figured you didn’t have something else to sleep in.” He paused, and even in the dark, Nova could tell his cheeks reddened. “If you, uh, want to sleep, that is.” 

    They both fell silent. It was the first time that night that they had been alone together, truly alone. No one was about to come running in, threatening to kill one of them, no one was within earshot of their conversation or could see what they were going to do. 

    “How’s Max doing?” Nova asked, remembering how the kid had tiredly protested when Adrian had tried to give him Adrian’s bed, refusing to close his eyes until Adrian took him back upstairs. 

    Adrian chuckled. “Asleep, finally. He was determined to talk, so I figured I’d let him until he had nothing left to say. Hopefully, he won’t wake up for a while.” Nova hummed in agreement; she doubted he would, not after the events that had taken place. Adrian cleared his throat, shifting his weight onto one leg. “So...do you plan on sleeping?” 

    Nova thought about it, thought about her aching muscles and the weight on her eyelids and how curling up under a warm blanket for hours was so, so welcoming. “Yes, but only with you.” When his eyes widened in surprise, Nova quickly added, “if that’s okay.” 

    Before she knew it, he was right in front of her, burying a hand in her wet hair and leaning down to kiss her. It was short, lasting only a few seconds, but the sensation still sent chills crawling down Nova’s neck. When they separated, Nova surprised herself by wrapping her arms around his neck, reaching up on her tiptoes and pulling him down to her height. Her head buried itself in the crook of his neck. She breathed a sigh of relief when his arms went around her, the one staying buried in her hair and the other wrapped tightly around her waist. 

    He was here, in her arms and safe and still wanting her, despite everything she had done. Still trusting her, despite her mountain of lies. She supposed when he was right when he had said back in the cathedral that they had nothing else to lie about. Nova wasn’t even mad about the Sentinel, not anymore, at least. This was Adrian, the boy who had fixed her bracelet at the parade, something that seemed so long ago. The boy who never gave up on Nova, even when she had held a gun to his forehead. 

    They were each other’s nightmare, each other’s archenemy. At least, they were supposed to be. It was what they were wired and designed to be by their opposite upbringings, despite them having similar desires for the future of their world. 

    “What would you think if...if a villain happened to fall in love with your son?”

    “To be honest, I’m not sure there are such things as villains anymore. Maybe there never really were.” 

    For once, Nova agreed with Adrian’s father.

[har-rison-s]

heaven: 17

never let her go

request/plot: Stan x Reader where they were together back in Derry and kind of forgot about each other after moving away but they always had a void in their lives. And then when Stan is just about to do it after Mikes call his phone rings and it’s you and you’re crying after just getting off the phone with Mike to come to Derry. You both end up going back and seeing each other at the restaurant and you guys just catch up after all these years that passed and old feelings come back.

A/N: Well hell to the low to you guys! I've missed being on here, and I'm so fucking glad that I'm back to writing and I actually have nothing else to do, really, except write. Oh, and fight for justice online, get to packing and moving and go to work. But other than that, I'm free as of right now. I came back to the document for this fic, and turns out I have material enough to post 2 whole chapters in a row. So, let's go. I'm glad you're all still here and I welcome every new-comer with hugs and kisses! So, happy quarantine reading and stay safe! Don't you ever forget - #BlackLivesMatter!

A/N: Also, quick note: if you're uncomfortable with me posting another chapter of Heaven or posting any writings at all, please don't hesitate to let me know. Writing, especially during times like these, and when I don't get any positive income from the real world or social media, writing is what helps me, and I think reading fics means you dive into another world, sometimes a better world, and you can live another life in them and feel better; I also know writing has helped some people fall asleep. That's why I'm posting. Again, if that makes you uncomfortable/you think I'm injust with posting, please let me know!

warnings: shorter than usual, water, over-thinking (lots)

word count: 2.2k

main masterlist

IT masterlist

heaven masterlist

previous part  next part

A/N: Where are my more gifs and pics of Andy Bean rights huh??

gif credit goes to owner, which isn't me!

Oh, is clean water good. Clean, warm, soapy water. Better than sex, she even dares to think. She smiles to herself at the thought. Stanley looks at her, a soft question in his eyes. Not the sex she has with him. She shakes her head, and then rests it against his wet chest. The shower’s water streams down onto them, warm and welcoming, warm and soothing, warm and healing. It collects their hair into dark, thick locks. The shower’s floor shines with water that is now filthy from all the dirt on their bodies. 

Bill collected all their dirty clothing and went to wash it in the hotel’s washing machines. He’d get to shower the last, but he didn’t mind. All of them using water at once wouldn’t be useful, either, but that he’ll leave it to their concern. Mike offered to use his washing machine at the Library, but since he lives quite far from the Derry Inn, they all decided to pass this suggestion.

Y/N’s palms are flat against Stanley’s bare back. It’s littered with birthmarks all over, Y/N discovers when she feels small, almost unnoticeable bumps under her fingers. Stanley, instead, opens the shampoo bottle the hotel offers and squeezes half of it out into his hand. He then runs his shampoo-y hands into Y/N’s hair, against her scalp. She hums. Stanley moves the shampoo into her hair, massaging circles into her scalp. She smiles softly at the gesture.

He does the same to his own hair, and Y/N chuckles at how weird he looks with his hair slicked back. “Reminds me of your Bar Mitzvah hair.” She says and Stanley gives her an airy chuckle in response. He remembers his mom’s effort and frustration into gelling his unbending acorn curls down neatly to his head.

“That was horrible.”

“No, no, that was a statement.” She corrects him and they both laugh. Her arms around him, hands on his back and his arms around her waist, hands interlocked to keep her intact in his embrace, they look up dreamily at each other. The water frustrates their eyes a small bit, making them blink more than usual.

Gazing into each other’s eyes transmits more emotions between them than they could muster to say in the same amount of time. Words really are hard to find to say all that Stanley could say to Y/N, about how much she means to him, about how he can’t breathe without her, how he needs her, how he wants to cherish her and love her for the rest of his life, and how he wishes they never parted. He also wants to say a big thank you for giving his strength, courage and self-belief back simply by talking, by being with him. He could not have gotten into this shower-bathtub, for example, without her help, without her words. Let alone Derry or Neibolt House.

Y/N would like to tell Stanley how grateful she is for his love, and that it is he who loves her. She would want to let him know that he’s the most important person in her life, that he means the most to her, and that she’d do anything to turn back time and relive her—their both’s—life differently, together. Happy.

How happy, how much more happier they’d be if things had turned out differently. And she wants to tell him how grateful she is for him to be here, right now, as well as tell him how privileged she is to love him, and to have him love her back, how privileged it is to hold his hand and look into his eyes.

But to not waste any emotional and physical material, they suffice with a simple—

“I love you.” She tells him in a quiet whisper. It almost drowns with the water in the dark drain of the sewer pipes. She leans up to kiss his lips. She can taste the coffee he drank earlier still, and the water. She smiles, and she kisses him again. And again. She chases his lips with hers, her hands pushing against him slowly, not at once, but slowly, begging. She kisses him, and she almost melts.

Stanley moves her rogue hair strands out of her face, and holds her cheek while looking into her eyes. His orbs move back and forth only the slightest. A corner of his lips raises ever so slightly. “I love you.” He assures her and kisses her again. He then kisses her forehead and pulls her into an embrace against his chest. Even his chest hairs have flattened down from the water, she can barely feel them against her cheek. She closes her eyes, and so does Stanley.

Something about the way he holds her, something about the way he shuts his eyes when he does. Thoughts of what is to come creep into his mind now, despite how badly he wants them not to. What if this is the last time I have her to myself? Selfish to think of her like that, but… She’s the most beautiful angel I’ve met in my life. I want to spend my entire life with her, I want to give her what I did not for the twenty years spent apart. What if, when I go back home, my mind will be changed about her? What if we’ll forget each other again, like last time?

But what if you don’t go home, Stanley? Maybe go to her home, or go home with her. Not your home, but one that would belong to you both. And Patty? What of her? Do I not call her or visit her? Do I just leave her in the dark? I can’t do that to her. After all we’ve been through, after loving one another for so long… After being married, and happily at that, after her trusting me so much…

Do you still love Patty as you did before Mike called you? As you did when she helped you pack clothes and essentials for this trip? How will you tell her you’ve met the love of your life, the love of your childhood again and made love to her in another city, another state? Another place, or void, completely foreign and strange to Patty and her whole life, and how she knows life in general? It will break her. Would it be better if you didn’t tell her at all? No, no, I can’t leave her wondering in the dark.

What if you love them both? What do you do then? Marry Y/N and live together as three married people? That’s complete craziness, Stanley. You can’t do that. But if I can’t choose… If I can’t choose between the two women I love most, what do I do then? Leave them both and live alone? Or should I choose? Which option would be better for everyone involved? Do I choose to be selfish and choose Y/N or Patty for the rest of my life? That’s only fair to me, and I can’t stand by that. But…

Stanley can’t live without Y/N. Maybe it’s just what he thinks now because he’s met her again, but then again—there wouldn’t be these feelings if there wasn’t an old cause for them, old roots grow out of something, not nothing. And they do have roots. Childhood. High school. Before college. The first year of college. Then it faded away… But these feelings are still here, they’re still real, present and true. They’re as intense as before, if not more. It is beyond love and belonging and craving, it is far more than they as mortal humans can understand, can know that they feel. He can only give her the tip of the iceberg that is his whole love, emotions and feelings for him. He can only do so much with his human mind and body.

But Patty… He loves Patty so much. They’ve been married for more than ten years, and found solace in each other. They loved each other even when they could not get children, they loved each other when they’ve woken up to a sour day, they loved each other even when they drive each other nuts (which is rare in their earthly, calm marriage). What fun have they had in these happy, peaceful years… Stanley would not trade it for the world. Ah, then and there, maybe. But here and now...

He doesn’t know. He can’t decide.

But somehow… The marriage ring that lays in the drawer of this hotel room’s nightstand, it feels like an anchor. And it feels old, as well, as strange as it sounds. Old, as if Stanley had lived in a past life with that ring and the person who carries the other ring, the rigs a promise to be man and wife until death do them part.

But it’s not death that will do them part. The happy, peaceful years he lived with Patty were simply years and time that fed on forgetfulness of crucial things such as childhood, and friends, and dreams that little kid Stanley Uris wanted to achieve in life. They were years of tunnel vision, of ignorance, but not his own. His self-consciousness’ ignorance caused by the magical curse IT laid upon Stanley and his friends once they left the town of Derry.

It’s best to think about it on the flight home, not now, about choosing the best option. Shower, heal and spend time with her. Heal together. You’re both still here, so right now you might as well use it selfishly, while you have that. Stanley opens his eyes and looks down at Y/N. The water runs in his eyes a few times. She moves back to look back at him, feeling a slight change in his position. She blinks, because the water gets into her eyes, as well, but she smiles. Stanley does as well, and then he reaches behind her to turn off the shower stream.

Naturally, they both shiver out of loss of warm water, but then hurry out of the bath-shower to wrap themselves in towels. Stanley helps Y/N not fall over on the slippery surface, what with having as many fears as she does. It’s a bath, after all, and he feels they’ll always frighten him a little bit from now on.

They both reach for the towels hanging on the heating pipes, and Y/N hums at the contact with her towel. It’s better than nice, and it’s better than perfect. She feels like falling asleep in this towel. Surprisingly soft for hotel towels.

They dry their hair out as much as they can with single towels, and then wrap the towels around their bodies. Non-verbally, maybe telepathically, they decide to wash their teeth. Stanley uses his own toothbrush and paste, but Y/N uses the tools their hotel provides—in the rush to catch the first flight to Maine she forgot to pack her tooth essentials. How silly and unhygienic of her, you might think. Not in her situation, not this time. Tooth cleaning essentials were really the smallest and most unimportant thing then.

Nor Stanley, nor Y/N speak much. There’s silence between them, tense but peaceful. So many questions nag at both their minds, so many questions they want to ask each other, mostly many uncomfortable questions. Answers to them would be too painful, too frustrating and hard to deal with, in general. Hence the questions are not asked. Many things they’d like to say to each other, but neither of them want to make this a book or movie scene, understand, with confrontation and dramatics. They just… They just really want to be here. They want to live and breathe and move without any complications or heavy-weighing anchors.

Y/N steals a shirt from Stanley, he’s already used it in this trip, and he had folded it to pack into his bag. He snatched his hand after her, but she’d already pulled the shirt over her head and naked breasts and stomach, too late for him to get it back. He looks at her, defeated, and she gives him the tip of her tongue sticking out between her lips. Now he can’t help but smile at her, she never fails to make him smile. With her simple enchanting grace and comedic mannerisms. Sometimes Stanley thinks her funnier than Richie Tozier himself.

Stanley now straightens up in his other button-up and underwear and watches her gracefully waltzing back into the bathroom, only in his shirt and her knickers. He can see wet spots on the shirt’s shoulders and over the breasts and back from her free-falling wet hair strands.

How magnificent is she. Arms like feather wings, legs like intertwining ribbons that dance so easily to their own beat. Hair of a color that reminds him of sunny summer and spring days, as well as dark winter afternoons, autumn mornings. Hands with the pads of cotton, cheeks plump and full of color like bright red roses. Her weight almost non-existent, so light and bird-like she carries herself. Her eyes of eternal kindness, the smile of a thousand little suns. And when you add all that together, it seems unreal, doesn’t it? She does. A fantasy only staying for a few moments until it swims away, to someplace else, to someone else. Stanley sighs.

He cannot let this fantasy go. He cannot let her go.

Permanent tag-list:  @gabiatthedisco​​​​​​​​ @v0idbella​​​ ​​​​​@inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs​​​​​​​​ @works-of-fanfiction​​​​​​​​ @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen​​​​​​​​ @stfxlou​​​​​​​​ @ur-gunna-h8-ths​​​​​​​ @betweenloveandfire​​​​​​​​ @but-legendsneverdie​​​​​​​​ @deardeacy​​​​​​​​ @thewinchesterchronicles​​​​​​​​ @mavieesttriste16​​​​​​​​​​​ @langdonzvoid​​​​​​​​ @intrrverted​​​​​​​​ @the-freak-cassie-131​​​​​​​​ @eddie-spaghetti-boi​​​​​​ @anxiousanakin​​​​​ @terratori812 @urban-dreams​​​​​​​​ @beverlyparkerr​​

Stanley Uris tag-list: @nightbu-g​​​​​​​​ @sadhwstudent​​​​​​​​ @shawni-h​​​​​​​​ @gothackedalready​​​​​​​​ @seasidecrowbar​​​​​​​​ @starred-river @raspberryacid​​​​​​​​ @facelessbish @tozierskaspb​​​​​​​​ @plum-duels​​​​​​​​ @whereyoustand​​​ ​​​​​@kimseungminsgf​​​​​​ @stanstan-the-manman​​

Heaven tag-list: @lovvliies​​​​​​ @kaspbrak-uris​​​​​​ @happy-at-home​​​​​​​ @jars-of–jupiter @violetzendaya @veronicapuff​​​​

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

[ehstarwar]

under thy own life’s key (6/7)

They’d been like this the whole night. Sleeping only periodically, spending the majority of their time fucking. Slowly sometimes, without any real desire for release, just the feeling of each others bodies. More roughly, other times; desperate pounding that Rey is sure leaves bruises. But she loves it.

-

Ben and Rey celebrate their first time having sex with more sex.

-

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2K

Read on AO3

Notes: thank u all so much for the love so far; u are all my favorite people ever. also plz don't hate me.

Chapter 6: they kill me with a living death

-

She doesn’t know what time it was. It could be four a.m.; could be noon; could be an entire different year for all Rey cared. 

Ben worked his mouth over her chest, laving at her hard, pink nipples that felt perpetually hard. His mouth sucked on one, the other being attended to by his hand; caressing, tugging, flicking. Like it was his one and only purpose. His come was still running down her thighs, combined with the slickness his mouth was creating. His other hand was pulsing in and out of her, two fingers deep in her cunt. His thumb teased her clit until it felt like it was about to fall off. 

They’d been like this the whole night. Sleeping only periodically, spending the majority of their time fucking. Slowly sometimes, without any real desire for release, just the feeling of each others bodies. More roughly, other times; desperate pounding that Rey is sure leaves bruises. But she loves it. 

Her orgasms now don’t come as shocking currents, but more like tidal waves that wash over her entire body. His fingers work her through it as his mouth continues sucking hickeys over her chest. When he withdrawals his finger, Ben brings them to his mouth, sucking every last drop of Rey he can. 

Reys’ hand delicately traces all the moles on his face, making a constellation that she’d repeatedly kissed through the night. His eyes were hooded, she didn’t know if that was from lack of enough sleep or desire for her. She’d like to think it was both.

“What time is it?” She asked, voice hoarse from screams she muffled with pillows or Bens’ hand. 

“Who cares,” Ben says, peppering kisses up her neck. 

“My body has gotten quite used to eating multiple times a day, so, it cares.”

Ben scowled. “I’ll bring you food.”

“You don’t think our friends will notice it’s odd that you’re up and I’m not?”

“I’ll tell them you’re feeling under the weather. That I’m probably  already infected with whatever you have, so I’ll take care of you.”

“That sounds nice…” Ben chuckled into her skin, tickling her neck. “It may be more believable if I go up and say you’re sick. They think you’re a vampire that got sun poisoning yesterday.”

“Our friends are idiots.”

“Yeah, but we choose to be friends with them anyways.”

“Hmmm…” He rubs his face into her hair, inhaling deeply. “It may be wiser for you to go up. That way you won’t fall asleep in a post-orgasm haze. Again.”

“Ugh,” She lightly smacks his arm, cheeks turning red. “I fall asleep because of some sort of sex hormone that orgasms produce. If anything, the blame is on you, not me.”

“I totally believe you, baby.”

There it was. That term of endearment that made Rey hot in all the best ways. Which is bizarre. It’s a very common nickname for significant others that Rey just so happens to have never been called before and now Rey doesn’t want to be called literally anything else. 

It also presents another problem. 

It was an endearment that couples called each other. People who were dating. Had established that they were seeing each other. Who could, for the most part, talk to their partner and figure out where their relationship stood. Something Rey and Ben had yet to do. 

The idea of the forthcoming conversation that they needed to have (they were well beyond the point of being able to put it off), was enough to make Rey shoot up from the bed and out of Bens’ grasp. She rooted around for clean underwear and clothes she could slip on so as not to scar her friends for life.

“You really are hungry,” Ben comments, still laying on the bed. 

“Benjamin, have you met me?”

“Fair.”

“Any particular order that you’d like to place? But I’ll have you know that my culinary skills peaked when I learned to put an egg in instant ramen.” Bens’ mouth twitched up at the corners.

“I’m sure you’ll get enough for the both of us. I’ll just eat whatever scraps you leave behind.”

Rey side eyes him as she begins to climb the stairs. She hears an even toned voice call up ‘try to throw a vegetable in there, too’ before she opens the stairwell door.  

-

After their bellies are full and Ben eats Rey out again (his desert, he’d teased), they wind up in the shower. Ben holds her up, using the tile wall as a support as he relentlessly thrust up into her. Their bodies are slick and Rey would normally be worried about the likelihood of slipping, but she doesn’t with Ben. At no point did his muscles feel like the were ready to give out. He just held her, pounding into her with ruthless abandon, making her chant his name like a prayer.

“You gonna come for me, baby? You gonna get us all filthy again right in the shower?” Rey could only manage to moan for him, nodding her head against the cool tile. Bens’ mouth descended onto her shoulder, lightly biting down as he began to come. His hands held her hips flush with his, leaving no option for Rey other than to just hang limply in his arms as her orgasm crashed through her too. 

Ben was sweet with her then, sinking them both to the shower floor, still attached, as he brushed the water and wet strands of hair out of her eyes. They were like that a minute until she heard a bottle being opened, then felt ben work shampoo into her hair.

“You’re gonna make my hair nice… like yours?” She asked, still a little breathless. He just hummed in acknowledgement. He rinsed out the shampoo before putting conditioner, then worked a soapy wash toweled down her whole body, missing no nook or cranny, even cleaning each toe individually. 

Rey felt like a fucking queen.

Rey returned the favor to him, taking advantage of being able to run her hands through the glorious mop of black hair on his head, and tracing all the hard plains of his muscles. Rey though she’d get scored for taking extra good care washing his firm ass, but Ben didn’t seem to mind. 

They rinsed off, and Ben got out before her, so that he could dry himself off before wrapping Rey like a burrito in a warm towel. She brushed out her hair, applied lotion down her whole body; pampering her for reasons she was too high to question.

They ended up back on the bed, Ben finding new sheets in the small closet and placing them on there. They’d have to think of a believable way to wash the come stains out of the others before they left. Neither of them seemed to care too much at the moment. 

Rey went back to munching on some wheat thins she’d snagged from the kitchen on her run while Ben sat, facing her, rubbing her legs. 

“We should probably talk about… this,” Ben spoke, suddenly, causing Rey to choke for a second on the four wheat thins she currently had stuffed in her mouth.

“About what?” She questioned, mouth still full. Ben gave her a pointed look.

“Rey.” She waived her hands in surrender, setting down the box beside the bed and swallowing the rest in her mouth.

“You’re right, you’re right,” She says, while situating herself a little straighter. A hollow feeling formed in her gut at the thought o having to talk about their relationship, but it’s what adults did. Get through something uncomfortable so that something slightly less uncomfortable would  be waiting for her after.

“I guess I just want to know where we stand… like after… everything.” Ben gestures vaguely to the dirty sheets in the corner.

“After all the sex, you mean.” Bens’ ears turn red and Rey can’t help but caress them. 

“And.. things like that. We didn’t used to do that before.” Rey drops her hand slowly.

“I guess… I don’t know where we stand. It’s… a lot to process.” His face falls.

“We’ve had all night to process.”

“We were sort of busy all night, if you’ll remember. Plus, we’ve been friends for eight year, Ben. Twelve hours isn’t exactly a ton of time to think things over.”

“What is there to think about?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am. What is there to think about Rey?”

She gets up from the bed, needing to put distance between Ben and herself.

“Eight years, Ben. We’ve been best friends for eight years. Going from platonic emotions to very sexually charged emotions, merits a little bit of thinking.”

“Such as?”

Rey huffs, searching her head to find something that wouldn’t make Ben scoff at her. Like there was  chance of that happening.

“Like… who I’m going to call when I want to get drunk in my apartment and watch trashy shows with if I can’t call you.”

“Why wouldn’t you call me? If we’er together, wouldn’t I be the person you’d do that with, no questions asked?”

“What if we fight, Ben? What if we do what we’re doing right now? Who could I call then?”

“We both have other friends! Hell, we’re in a house full of them right now.”

“But you’re different. It’s different between us, Ben, it always has been.”

“That’s exactly why there’s nothing for us to think about! We were always headed towards this!”

“It’s not easy for me to just accept that! You’re my best friend! If it turns out that we weren’t meant for this and we do break up, what am I supposed to do? I can handle loosing a boyfriend, but I can’t handle loosing my best friend on top of that!”

“That won’t happen.”

“We’re fighting right now and we’re not even officially dating.”

“We wouldn’t break up, Rey. We’d make it work. I’m not your parents, I’m not going to leave you like garbage.”

Rey goes rigid. Her whole body tenses as the words play over and over again in her head. 

“Everyone I’ve ever loved has left me, Ben. You can’t be upset with me for being scared.”

His jaw works as his eyes continue to stare deeply into hers.

“I’ve proved myself for eight years that I won’t leave you, Rey. What more do I have to do?”

Rey stares right back at him, unmoving.

“Maybe not be a huge asshole to me while asking for us to be together would have helped.”

Neither of them can move, both unyielding in their respective ground. When it’s clear that their thoughts on this won’t change either, Rey turns around to grab clothes. She takes off the comically large t-shirt that Ben placed on her, replacing it with her own clothing.

“I’m going to stay with Rose for the rest of the trip.” She doesn’t turn to tell him that, but she can hear the squeaking of the bed as he gets up. He doesn’t say anything. When she turns to face him to grab her phone, she sees that his expression is still hard, but his eyes softened a bit. 

Rey forces down the tears that will absolutely be spilling soon.

“Rey, I-” But he doesn’t finish. Rey looks at him, willing from him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t. He closes him mouth and Rey leaves the room. 

-

When Finn opens the door to Roses’ room, he’s met with a watery-eyed Rey.

“Oh, hey Rey. Rose and I were just playing cards. But like, we didn’t have any cards so we were playing with ones on our phone. That’s why there’s no actual cards here. What did you- Are you okay?”

“Finn, I think I messed everything up.” Rey breaks into sobs before she can finish speaking.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Nothing Good Happens After Midnight: Twenty- Three

“Y/N,” Bruce scolded gently, reaching over to slow down your treadmill, “easy, sweetheart.” You bite your tongue and take a deep breath. Honestly, you’re just thankful Bruce is still letting you do anything at all. You’ve got three weeks left to go and as the days tick down, he’s a bigger mess. “Bruce,” you say, giving him a look. The scientist smiles sheepishly and takes a drink of water.

He watches you discreetly after that. Looking for any sign of distress or discomfort. You’ve been having more back pain and the starts of contractions for the last week. Lea and Medical are both in agreement that you could pop at almost any time. When you’ve finished the little bit of your workout Bruce can handle you doing, he breathes an internal sigh of relief. 

“C ‘ mon, sweetheart,” Bruce says, kissing you softly, “Let's get a shower and get you off your feet.” You smile and press into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Baby,” you soothe, “ I’m fine, I feel fine.” He sighs, “But,” he starts. You kiss him, “It’s all normal, sweetheart. There’s nothing to worry about. Yeah. Harper could come at any time. That’s normal too. Babies set their own schedules.” You take his hand and tug him after you. Even if you’re a little irritated right now your feet and your back to ache terribly and you wouldn’t mind a rub down and some tea. He chuckles and follows after you, thankful that you were healthy and that you felt well enough to be irritated at him for coddling you. He’d read about everything that could go wrong. All the ways you could be hurt or killed. Everything that could go wrong with the baby. You’d banned him from reading anything else after he spent the whole night falling down a hole of incredibly rare diseases and pregnancy-related problems and going over every detail of your chart, quietly fretting while you slept. 

The whole thing had culminated in him hulking out and lifting you out of bed carefully, rushing you to medical and insisting that there was something wrong. He’d scared you to death and you’d burst into confused tears, making things worse for Hulk. He’d not understood why you were crying and hadn’t known how to fix it. It had been a rough night for everyone and after that, Bruce was not allowed to read anything related to your pregnancy or the impending birth. He still worried but he was a lot less anxious, and that was an improvement. 

In your rooms, he starts the shower and he gets a little more insistent about kissing you. It feels good, feeling you warm and eager in his arms. He lets you undress him and returns the favor before helping you into the shower. He can’t refuse you when you stroke his prick and suck a soft mark into his chest. Bruce hadn’t intended for things to get filthy while he helped you clean up, but he’s not disappointed by the turn of events. He loves when things are slick and soapy. The feel of your skin under his hands and how easy it is to make you breathless and needy as he toys with your hormones. “You sure, baby?” he asks softly, palming your cunt as he kisses your throat. “Yes,” you pant, “Please?” Bruce turns you around gently and waits for you to get positioned comfortably. “This won’t hurt you?” he asked, hesitating. “It might help put me in labor properly,” you tell him, “But it won’t hurt me.” Bruce nodded and kissed your shoulder, pushing into you gently and reaching around you to cradled your breasts in his hands. You moan softly and he starts to thrust gently. He could get you both off in moments if he wanted with how sensitive you are, but right now he wants to enjoy this. More importantly, he wants you to enjoy this. A lazy slow afternoon of lovemaking and cuddling. You deserve it. And, Bruce reasons, if you’re blissed out and lazy, you aren’t stressed. 

He focuses all his attention on you, coaxing you into orgasms one after another until he spends inside you. When he wraps his arms around you slowly, petting your stomach and nuzzling your spine, he smiles softly, “Good girl, he praises, “Always so good for me.” You let him help you out of the shower and he dries your skin carefully before leading you to the bedroom and starting to smooth lotion over you while you sit on the edge of the bed. He kisses your stomach and smiles when your fingers slide through his hair and you sigh. “Just relax,” he says softly, “Let me take care of you today?” You smile, “I don’t see how I could say no,” you hum, “you’re really good at that.” Bruce preens a little and arranges your pile of pillows so you can lay back, “I gotta take care of you,” he said simply. He helps you into some panties and an oversized shirt before laying you back gently. You sigh and pull him next to you where you want him and cuddle close. You need him nearby. It makes you anxious when he isn’t there to hold you while you sleep. Bruce smiles tenderly and pets your tummy, “Nap time?” he chuckles. It doesn’t take much to wear you out, but he knows that you’re fine. Just pleasantly tired after having been loved properly. You yawn and close your eyes, “Yeah,” you murmur. “I’m sorry,” you say softly.

He kisses your head and keeps rubbing your belly lovingly, “You can be lazy, baby,” he soothes, “I’ll be just as happy to be at your service when you wake up.” Under his fingers, he can feel Harper moving. He imagines she’s probably a little irritated and cramped as she grows too big to be comfortable. He smiles softly as you fall asleep and follows suit, happy to have his girls warm and safe. It’s a nice day. A perfect Sunday. Slow, lazy lovemaking and Bruce feeding into your need for attention happily. He’s never minded that. You never really gave a fuck about gifts, but you do like attention. All the attention he’ll give you. Bruce adores when you’re feeling a little needy and snuggly. It’s the easiest to keep you safe then because you stick to him like glue. He knows it’s your biggest love language. Touch, attention, time. And he’s happy to give you all of it. 

_________

It’s getting late when Bruce looks up at the clock with a sigh. You’re still in your workshop, desperately trying to finish up some things and tie up loose ends before you go on leave. It’s getting closer to midnight and he’s a little worried. You should be in bed. Or at least on the couch with your feet propped up. So he makes his way to the shop, mentally preparing to coax you into coming with him. He pauses at the door and smiles a little. You’re sitting on top of your desk, cross-legged and munching on an apple as you stare at your chalkboard. He knows what “stuck” looks like when he sees it. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he says, kissing tart apple sticky lips when you look up at him. “Hey,” you say smiling a little. “How’s work?” he asked. “The magical equivalent of algebra and I hate it,” you grouse, “Fuck alchemy.” Bruce chuckles and holds out his hands to help you off the desk, “How about you fuck me instead?” he teases. You let him help you down and stretch, “That does sound,” your voice trails off and you gasp. There’d been mild pains through the day. Just like it had been. You hadn’t thought much of it. It was just some discomfort that Lea and medical had been keeping an eye on. This pain was not that. 

Warm fluid runs down your leg under your skirt and puddles around your feet on the tile. Bruce stands there frozen for a second and you look up at him, “I think it’s time,” you say swallowing hard. “Time?” Bruce stammers, “No. There are still two more weeks.”  You wince and squeeze his hands, “No, babe. There isn’t. Harper’s coming now.” Bruce’s brain takes a few seconds to get traction but when it does, he helps you to medical and calls Lea. Your godmother was going to be doing the actual delivering. You felt more comfortable with it, and honestly, Bruce couldn’t fault you. Lea had been bringing babies into the world for centuries. The compromise was that she do it in medical. Just in case. Bruce wasn’t terribly comfortable with you giving birth in a house. Any house. Even if Lea’s was magically immaculate. 

Once they got you settled, sans an IV to avoid you having to deal with needles, and with Lea there to advocate for you and help Bruce keep you as comfortable as you could be. It was time to wait. There was nothing to do really but monitor things. The only hiccup was a nurse, a new nurse, coming in with the things to give you an epidural and subsequently having a terrified witch threaten to hex her into the middle of next week. Beyond that, once they got you calmed down it was fine. Bruce was thankful Lea was there when it was time to push and you were exhausted and scared. 

“Y/N,” she coaxes, “C ‘ mon. Push.”

“I can’t,” you pant, “I just can’t.” She smacks your calf lightly, “Try,” she coaxes, “your mother said the same thing. And here you are.”

You grip Bruce's hand and he feels his knees buckle. If you haven’t broken a bone in his hand he’ll be shocked. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” he praises, “ You haven’t hexed me. Or told me we’re never having sex again.” That coaxes a laugh out of you and he wipes tears away gently as you rally to push again. 

“One more,” Lea coached, “ One big push, mama.” You do, crying out and sobbing for breath and if you hadn’t broken a bone or two in Bruce’s hand before, you did then. Black spots blossomed in front of his vision and he felt his stomach roll over as pain shot up his arm and he tried not to whimper. Harper was in Lea’s hands, bloody and screaming and suddenly he forgot how badly his hand hurt. 

He helped Lea then, cutting the cord and helping a waiting nurse to get her ready to hand to you. Well. He tried to help. He was crying and not able to do much more than be in the way. But, as the nurse put her in your arms and you said your first hello, he was convinced you’d never be as beautiful to him as you were in that moment. He could taste tears on your lips as he kissed you softly and wrapped his arms around you. “She looks like you,” you say smiling up at him. Bruce tutted, “Silly girl, I told her I wanted her to look like you.” He smudged a kiss against your head and gently fluffed your pillows. “You can’t have everything you want, Bruce,” you snort. 

_______

When you fell asleep, Bruce went to get his hand seen to. You had indeed put stress fractures in his hand in a couple places. Luckily, it wouldn’t need surgery. He’d just need to baby it and wear a brace. That done, he slipped downstairs to update the others properly. 

Thor swept him off his feet in a bone-crushing hug and laughed when Bruce told them all that you were both just fine and you’d probably be up to visitors soon. “What happened to your hand?” Tony asked, looking up from pouring celebratory drinks. “She broke it,” Bruce said calmly, smiling a little. Steve sputtered for a second, “On purpose?” Bruce gave him a look and laughed, “No, of course not.” Natasha snorted and Clint looked a little horrified. “What?” Bruce said, “I wasn’t not going to hold her hand.” 

“So you just let her break it?” Bucky asked. Bruce nodded, “She was pushing out a seven-pound 8-ounce baby. Without pain killers. A couple stress fractures aren’t that bad. She didn’t just do it for fun... She’s just stronger than she looks.”

“So,”‘ Clint said taking the shot he’d been handed, “Is Miss Harper green after all?” He had a shit-eating grin on his face and let Bruce chuck a pillow at him, “No, you cretin... She’s perfect.” There’s a round of teasing Awww-ing as Bruce visibly softens, thinking about his girls upstairs. “I want pictures!” Nat demanded, snatching Bruce’s phone out of his pocket. “You keep that,” he said, heading towards the elevator, “I’m gonna make sure they’re still doing okay.” 

_________

Two years later

The Hulk is at your back, you sling magic and he flings robots, tearing them into pieces. You don’t have time to think about the fact that there’s a second baby on the way and you hadn’t told Bruce yet before everything happened. 

You can’t think about Harper. At home with Lea waiting for someone to tuck her in. Thinking about her big dark eyes and messy curls makes tears sting your eyes. You have this awful feeling in the pit of your stomach. A feeling that you won’t be coming home. A feeling that crawls over your skin and crashes into reality for you as the Hulk inadvertently brings down part of a building on top of you. 

The rubble saves the day but Hulk, in his despair, runs away. He hesitates just long enough to hear someone say you’re still breathing. But As Natasha calls out to him, he doesn’t turn. He hurt you. He could have killed you. Taken you away from Harper because he wasn’t careful enough. 

The time on Sakaar passes in a blur. He isn’t sure how long he’s been gone but it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing but endless fighting. There are no other women. Not even the Valkyrie that reminds him so much of you. Driven. Smart. Ferociously kind. It makes the Hulk miss you terribly at the same time it soothes him. Until Thor arrives.

Thor throws a Monkeywrench in everything. 

“Go away,” Hulk roars. He doesn’t want to hear about you. About your pretty house. Or the kids. Two girls. Bright and beautiful. “She misses you,” he blurts out. It hurts. It’s a blistering sort of pain, the kind the Hulk just can’t take. 

As Bruce came back groaning on the floor he looked around, “Oh god. Where am I?” Thor helped him sit up and hurriedly handed him clothes, “A planet called Sakaar,” he said. “Y/N, Harper... Oh god. How long has it been?” 

“Y/n, Harper, and Lyra,” Thor corrected gently, “It’s been two years.” Bruce covers his face this his hands and swallows hard, processing. “Lyra is yours,” Thor murmured, “Y/N was with child when you left. She had to expend a lot of energy to get them through a building falling on top of her, but. They’re healthy.” It’s all Bruce can do not to fall apart.

He left you.

He proved you right. All those anxieties you’ve ever had. 

_________

When he makes his way to the house, Thor and his Valkyrie friend in tow. He stops the car and just stares. Harper is beautiful. Dark hair and dark eyes. All Curls and dimples and chubby kid adorableness. And Lyra. Lyra looks like you. A tiny, adorably chubby version of you as she totters along in the grass giggling as she chases a red ball. “I can’t do this,” Bruce said taking a shaky breath, “What if she throws me out?” Thor shook his head, “She won’t. When we thought you were dead, she never gave up. She’s been waiting for this since the minute she woke up and you were gone... Don’t disappoint her.” 

The memory of tears welling up in your eyes gets him out of the car. It makes him stop and take a deep breath as Harper tears into the house yelling for you, “Mama, Mama, Mama,” she yells, “Uncle Thor brought friends!” You step out on the to porch, drying your hands and freeze.

“Bruce?” you ask softly. It’s music to his ears. You look almost the same. A few threads of white coming down from your part. Your hair is longer and you look more muscled. Less soft than you’d been even when he met you. You had harder edges now. He starts forward carefully and when you bolt into his arms, he stops and catches you, clutching you to him as your legs wrap around his waist and your lips find his. He tastes tears but he doesn’t stop. You feel like home. Still. 

Neither of you hear Valkyrie whisper to Thor, “How did that idiot get a wife that hot?” Thor snorted, “She’s not his wife.” Valkyrie grinned, “So you’re saying there’s a chance?” Thor barks a laugh and scoops up both kids, carrying them into the house. “Uncle Thor,” Harper asks wide-eyed, “Who’s that?” Thor grinned and kissed her head, “That’s your dad.” Harper gave him the same Skeptical look Bruce had given him dozens of times and he chuckled. These were definitely his kids. “Promise,” he said, “Your mother doesn’t kiss just anyone like that.”

Tags: @lancsnerd​ @stevieang​ @golddaggers​ @blameitonthecauseway​ @qxeen-of-hearts​ @process-pending​ @xmarveled​ @beautybyfire, @etherealwaifgoddess, @mschellehitt

[cloverhighfivewritestoo]

A Bit of Normal

(also available in male!reader and non-binary!reader)

👉 Read it on Ao3

Dean x female!reader w/c 1550 warnings : fluff, comfort summary : [Y/N] is a hunter, a tired hunter. Dean, a good hunter friend, pays [Y/N] a visit and things change. theme: the weight of life and the need for a break from it

A Bit of Normal

[Y/N] had been sitting on her balcony since the crack of dawn, but she was still groggy. Her second cup of coffee half drunk, cold, on the little table beside her served only as a reminder of days when things were clear and simple. Those days were long gone.

 Monsters had come. Some with fangs, some with claws, some with strange powers. Every hunter has an inception story, hers was as bloody as anyone else’s. But she had been the one with the best survival skills it seems because here she was, sipping cold coffee, alone yet alive.

 It had been a few years now of her driving around the country, staying at cheap motels, and coming back home between hunts to try and decide if she can just let everything go and get back to a normal life with a 9-to-5 and friends to go have a beer with on Fridays.

 But she was cursed. Cursed with a burden, a responsibility, cursed with the knowledge of what is out there, cursed with the capacity of dealing with it. Cursed with the ability to save people. Cursed with the need to make a difference.

 Her phone buzzed. Seeing the name, she smiled. “Hey Dean.”

“Hey [Y/N]. I’m in the area, fancy a brunch?”

“Hmm…”

“Are you alright? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Grab something and come here instead?”

“What about I grab a pancake mix? You sound like you need pancakes.”

“You’re the best.”

“Be right there.”

Dean was that hunk of a hunter that saved her once, whom she saved another time, and with whom she’d hunted a few times – sometimes planned, sometimes by chance. In a violent world that demands way too much beheading – and laundry skills to get blood out of clothes way too often – Dean Winchester stood out. He was ruthless and efficient, but once the monster was down, he was the softest guy. Without skipping a beat, he’d turn around and make sure everyone was alright and then when every human was in good care, he��d tag along with her back to her room or her apartment to help her with her wounds. Nothing she said could convince him she was fine and didn’t need anything. She’d pay him with whiskey. They’d talk all night, catch up, laugh. Sometimes, they were too tired and sore, they’d just watch tv and barely touch the whiskey. Sometimes, she’d fall asleep on the sofa, her head on his shoulder. She’d wake up the morning after tucked in her bed fully dressed – minus the boots – a thank you/see ya around/take care note and a sandwich on the table.

 So Dean was coming. [Y/N] just had time to sluggishly get some decent clothes on and start another pot of coffee that the bell rang. As she opened the door, she barely caught the flash of a smile and crinkly green eyes before she was caught in a bear hug.

“Heyyyy [Y/N], it’s been too long!”

Too surprised to fully lean into it, she answered “I think it’s been a month, actually”.

Dean let go and looked her in the eye, “too long anyway.”

 Dean picked up the grocery bag he’d dropped on the floor in favour of the hug, passed [Y/N] into the apartment, heading to the kitchen, shaking the pancake mix over his head. “How many do you want?”

 She sat at the island and watched Dean strip to his t-shirt and rummage around for milk and butter. He’d been at her apartment a few times and although it had never been discussed, he felt at home and she let him go about as if he was.

 This time though something was different. It’s not his breathtaking shoulders and how she could hint at the shape of his body under the thin garment. She’d seen him without a shirt, cause she had stitched him up a few times. It was not his humming, she’d heard him hum when he was cleaning his guns. It was not the way he moved either, she knew his shape well enough to make him out in almost pitch darkness, her own blood dripping in her eyes.

 Dean turned and put a short stack in front of her, smiling. “Start with those.”

She didn’t move, she just stared at him, her head cocked lightly.

Dean gave her a puzzled look. “What?”

She took a moment to look at him. “I don’t know… something���s different.”

He looked at himself quickly, a bit of panic in his eyes. “What do you mean, different?”

“I don’t know.”

Dean squinted and looked at her sideways. “Different good or different bad?”

She chuckled. “Definitely good. Gimme the syrup.”

 They brought their plates and coffees on the balcony and ate slowly. Dean sat back between mouthfuls, looking at the trees in the park. “I think I can’t remember the last time I just ate. No research on the table, no conversation about a hunt with Sam, no computer pinging in the background, no phone beeping some alarm. Just. Just this. Just eating.” He looked back at [Y/N], finished swallowing his pancake. “This is nice. We should do this more often.”

 He thought she’d smile at his suggestion, but he saw her hugging her mug, looking away. “You ok?”

[Y/N] seemed pulled from some reverie. “Yeah. It’s just that, though. The hunter life. You get so caught up, little things as simple as a meal can’t be enjoyed.”

Dean put his fork down. “Look, [Y/N]…”

“No, Dean, it’s alright. I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”

Dean dragged his chair close to [Y/N]’s. “Hey hey hey… no…” He laid a hand gently on her arm. “Look at me…” He waited for her to turn around. “Look, [Y/N], I know, it’s a hard life. But it’s worth it. I mean, you got me, right?” Saying that, he smiled softly at her. He gestured to the table. “And we’re enjoying this, right now.”

[Y/N] looked at the half-eaten plates of pancakes, an uncertain smile on her face.

Dean added, “and I can come around from time to time, and we can have pancakes like this, or waffles. I can get you a waffle iron.”

[Y/N] looked at him, her smile a little wider.

Dean seemed satisfied. He leaned in, cradled her head with his hand and gave her a kiss on the temple. “Want me to warm up that coffee?”

 They mostly ate in silence, and, once their plates were empty, they started catching up. It was nice and simple, the way they talked and liked to tell their stories in a way that would make the other gasp in surprise or laugh.

 Finally, Dean got up. “I’m gonna help you clean up before I head back.”

“Already?”

“I still have quite a few hours to drive.”

“Yeah, OK.”

 “I wash, you dry?”

“Yes, Mr. Winchester.”

He looked at her with a smile and filled the sink. [Y/N] found herself absorbed with Dean’s hands. Dean’s hands in the soapy water, Dean’s hands scrubbing, Dean’s hand handing her a clean dish with a glance to make sure she was done with the last one and ready for this one. The quiet rhythm of it was soothing. When it was all done, she sat at the island, watching him wipe the counter and the stove top.

 Dean threw the rag in the sink and turned around triumphantly. “All done!” But he found a pensive [Y/N] looking back at him. “What?”

“I’m thinking about what I said earlier. How this… it’s different.”

“You mean the good different.”

She didn’t answer the question. “Do you really have to go now?”

“Well, I guess…” He looked at his watch.

 And while Dean looked at his watch with a little crinkle between his eyebrows, she got up and around the island, and stood but an inch from him. “Please, Dean.”

She wrapped her arms slowly around him, nestling her head on his chest. Dean took her in and held her.

After a moment, he asked, in a whisper, “What’s going on?”

He heard her muffled response, “Nothing. I’ve missed you.”

And, saying this, she held him tighter, and he held her tighter, laying his cheek on her head. She felt him breathe in slowly, his body relax.

 She gave him a squeeze and looked up. “I know what’s different.”

“Tell me.”

“We’re not spending time together because we just escaped death, we didn’t just gut some thing that was eating people. This. This here. It’s… normal.”

Dean brought her closer but didn’t say a thing.

“I like normal. Do you like normal?”

Dean smiled, but it didn’t spread to his eyes. “I love normal. But we’re hunters. We don’t get to have normal.”

“Dean, it’s the most normal I’ve had in years. And I have it with you. I don’t care if we have it once a month, once a year. This life is infinitely better when you’re around.”

Dean looked at her softly, and bent slowly, reaching down for a kiss. It felt like a question, and hope.

When they broke off, she asked him, under her breath, “stay the night. You can drive back tomorrow.”

Dean trailed his nose on her cheek, gave her another short, soft kiss. “I can drive back tomorrow.”

     I’d love to hear from you!

     Back to the Masterlist

[arthurs-wife]

Help a Brother Out - V

Anonymous said to arthurs-wife: I’m totally cool with the cabin and just having them alive and happy. I want to say again, thank you so so much. You’ve really captured Arthur and the M!Reader makes me feel so represented in this fandom so thank you, seriously. Also thank you for letting Arthur shoot Micah in the face like we all wanted him to

A/N: my M!Reader bud, here is the last chapter of this mini fic, time to request a new one!! 

You looked out across you farm and sighed in relief. It was finally starting to look more like a farm and less like a… withered pile of vines. You could see Arthur waving at you from the porch, his way of saying ‘get your ass inside and eat some dinner’. You set your plow down and set off towards the house.

The cattle mooed solemnly in their pen to your left, those had been a pain in the ass to get. $20 a piece they were! The horses were a little better, Arthur was excellent in taming wild horses so you two had a small herd of them by now. The chicken coop had been set up near the house and you had more eggs than you knew what to do with.

It had been seven years since your flight from the gang and it was finally starting to feel like home.

You pulled your boots off and set them by the door before heading inside to a delicious smell. Arthur must have outdone himself this evening. You rounded a corner to see the back of Arthur, completely naked but for an apron tied around his waist.

And what a fine waist it was.

You approached slowly as he fussed with the soup and cupped a hand around a buttock. You slid it around his waist to the front and-

-thwack!-

“Ow!” you cried, drawing your hand away and chuckling, “what was that for?”

“Need to eat first,” Arthur said matter of factly, heading to the table with two bowls. He set them on the table and sat down, motioning for you to do the same. So unfair.

You ate the hot soup as quickly as you could but it was difficult, especially since it was so damn good.

“Is this the one we fed the sweet water to?” you asked.

“Naw that Petunia,” he shook his head, taking another bite,” she’s still out there in the barn making a ruckus. This is Priscilla.”

“Aw,” you said, “I liked her.”

“That’s why I told you not to name them,” Arthur admonished, but there was no malice in it.

“Can we talk about why you’re naked now?” you asked, pushing your bowl away.

Arthur looked up at you and grinned, that stupid, sly grin he always had when he was up to something. Nice to know after all these years, the little things stayed the same.

“You smell like cow shit,” he said, standing up and taking you by the hand, “let’s get you into a bath.”

He was meticulous about undressing you, taking off your suspenders, belt, overshirt, sliding your pants down and pressing his mouth against your cock before getting back up and pointing you to the bath.

“You really had this planned out, didn’t you?” you asked, sliding down into the soapy water and groaning. Naked Arthur be damned, you’d be fine with just the hot bath. Except then Arthur kneeled down next to you and put his huge hands on your shoulders, kneading soft at first and sliding his thumbs up the muscles in your neck.

“Been a while since you’ve relaxed,” he muttered. Indeed, you couldn’t think of the last time you had a chance to just sit down and not do anything. You or Arthur.

He leaned you forward and rubbed down your shoulders to your lower back and your head hit your chest. You could probably fall asleep but he moved around you, sliding his hand between your thighs and wrapping a hand around your length and chuckling.

“You’re so easy, you know that?” he laughed.

“I can stop being so attracted to you, if you’d like,” you suggested.

“No you can’t,” he murmured, lips against your ear and squeezing. He was right. You were hopeless.

Usually water was not a good conductor for this sort of activity but something he had put in the water not only made it smell extra nice but made everything incredibly slick. You found yourself bucking up into his hand and splashing soapy water everywhere, white knuckles on the sides of the tub as you came so quickly, your head against the warm metal and breathing deeply.

Arthur’s voice finally penetrated the steam and your own haze and you looked over to him.

“Hm?” you asked.

“I said,” he groaned, standing up sans apron, “got enough strength to take care of me now?”

You growled and stood up, stepping out of the bath and pinning him against the wall. It was so warm in here, from the water and the two of you breathing so heavily. You placed your hands on his broad chest and kissed him, wet hair plastered to your face and water dripping from you onto him.

You kneeled in front of him, taking him entirely in your mouth with your nose pressed against his stomach and you heard him draw in a breath and the thud of his head on the wall. Your hands steadied on the wall behind him and pulled back some, sucking on his head and pushing back down as far as you could go.

His little moans kept you going and you grabbed his ass, pushing him into you as he fucked your mouth and grabbed at your hair. He let out a cry and came in your throat and you swallowed him whole, milking him for every drop he had.

The windows were fogged, there was water all over the floor, you had no idea where your clothes had gone to, and you just sat in front of him, looking up at him with an almost drunk look on your face, smiling like an idiot.

“Let’s get you to bed, darlin’,” he said, helping you up and throwing you a towel to dry off with.

The sheets were nice and clean and so were the two of you (for once) and you slept better that night than you ever had in your life.

End.

[kookiesspacebuns]

Suite 114 | Pt. 10 |

■ pairing: Jimin X OC

■ genre: fluff, smut

■ words: 3.6k

■ a/n: Well.....I know I took forever to upload this. Writer's block is a bitch. But here it is! After some motivation from a few readers, some amazing Jimin dreams and all of the cutest new Jimin content lately....I finally felt it in me to write! Sorry for the long wait 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

MASTERLIST

I trace my fingers across the porcelain face laying next to me. The tips of my fingers follow the soft rays of the early morning sunlight, filtering through the window behind me and onto his peaceful, sleeping form. My touch lingers on his pillowy bottom lip as I recall the events from the night before.

I feel so out of place next to this almost god-like man and self conscious all of a sudden. I retract my fingers from his pink mouth. A deep ache burrows its way into my heart, along with sudden fear and realizations.

This can’t last. It's too good to be true. This may change everything.

I frown at the thoughts invading my head and watch Jimin's chest rise and fall with every slow breath he takes. I've never been one to have regrets, and I definitely don't regret what happened between us, but I do fear for my heart. The new feelings that encompassed my heart last night scare me but I don't want to miss out on this once in a lifetime experience. Even if it may be fleeting. Even if it leaves my heart in pieces on the floor. I want to enjoy the ride, with no regrets.

I check my phone to see that it's just after 5 am.

Holy shit.

We slept unmoving for over twelve hours. It couldn't have been later than four when we fell asleep yesterday. I guess all of my wet dreams kept me from fully resting the past few days, and I'm sure Jimin had to be utterly exhausted from working so hard too. No wonder I feel well rested and wide awake.

I creep out of bed, making sure not to disturb his slumber, and take a hot shower. The steaming hot water envelops my body and clears my mind of all thoughts, except for one. Thank you, whoever invented the hot water heater.

I snicker at the silly thought and stick my face under the stream of water.

“What's so funny?”

I yelp and cover my chest out of instinct, while my foggy eyes try and make out the figure standing outside the shower door.

“Jimin!” I exclaim, placing a hand over my pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”

He slides the shower glass door open a few inches and pokes his head through. “Can I join you?” His eyes scan my naked, wet body.

“Umm, okay.” I reply shyly, still trying to cover myself.

He smiles and steps into the shower, shutting the sliding door behind him. My eyes instantly lower to the hardness between his legs. The sight of his thickness and the memory of how it felt inside of me, has me wet instantly.

Jimin reaches up and touches the bottom of my chin to close my mouth that I didn't realize was gaping open. I blush up at his gorgeous, smirking face. His thumb brushes over my cheek.

“You can't be shy now, after how you were last night.”

I purse my lips and direct my vision onto his bare chest, knowing full well he's right. He unfolds my arms and places them back down. His gaze lingers on my hardened nipples before moving up to meet my eyes. Before I can comprehend what is happening, he hooks his hand under my right knee and lifts my leg up exposing my heated core to the cool air. I inhale sharply when his fingers slide down my folds with ease and tease around my entrance.

Jimin closes the little distance between us, so that water sprays onto his dark hair and down the side of his body. Wet strands of hair stick to his face, making him look dark and sinister. My heart squeezes at the way he looks down at me.

He kisses me passionately, pressing my skin into the cold tile, as his fingers explore me. The taste of him overpowers all of my senses and I lock away the memory of how he tastes away, never wanting to forget it's sweetness. His lips leave me tentatively and he places his forehead against mine. His lower hand stills, allowing me to release a shaky, pent up breath.

“I don't think I'll ever get enough of you.” His warm breath cascades down my face. Goosebumps spread over my body at his statement. The reality of our relationship threatens to crash over me, but his velvety voice pushes it away. “I don't want to leave.”

I want to say 'Then don't leave’, but I know he eventually has to. I just don't know when. Instead of speaking, I grab his face between my two hands and kiss him again. I kiss him until we forget everything. Until the only thing taking up our minds is the undeniable desire for each other.

He enters me suddenly, his length pressing deep into me until his lower belly is pressing against mine. I whine and reach over his shoulders to grab onto him as he lifts me up the wall. He raises my leg up higher and grabs onto my waist for leverage.

He pounds into me relentlessly, our combined moans filling the small bathroom. Within minutes I'm falling apart in his grasp, whimpering his name into his ear as he lays his cheek against my neck.

“Jimin…..I-I’m.”

He leaves my neck to press his head against mine again. “Yes, tell me.” He demands quietly.

“Ah-I…. I'm cumming.”

He groans, a sound that has me curling my toes. “M-me….too.” He says, before throwing his head back.

His grip tightens on my hip as he cums inside of me, his thrusts turning hard and reaching deeper than before. We hold each other under the, now cool, flowing water, not saying a word as our post-orgasm highs dissipate.

I gently pull away from his embrace, despite my body telling me no, to wash up. “We should probably wash now.” I say while soaping up a washcloth.

“We should.” He responds, but stands still, watching quietly as I clean myself. When I reach between my legs he stops me and takes the cloth from my hand to clean me himself. His hand moving between at my center sends gentle pleasure through me again, but thankfully he's done before it becomes too much.

I rinse myself off, very aware of his gaze on me. When I'm done I stand under the stream unmoving, not knowing what to do next. He smirks and starts washing himself with the bar of soap. The cold water sends me into a shivering fit and I rub my arms for warmth.

“Why are you making yourself suffer? Go get warm, I'll be out soon.” He says calmly, after seeing me shake.

I nod and get out of the shower. After drying off and throwing on some lounge pants and a shirt I go search through my fridge to see what I can make for breakfast.

Halfway through preparing food, I realize that this is the first time I've ever made a meal for anyone other than my sister. I've never had a guy stay over either...or had sex with a famous person.

This week has been a week of some crazy firsts.

As I'm placing a piece of bacon in the pan, Jimin walks into the kitchen rubbing a towel through his dark hair. He's shirtless with the black jeans from last night hanging low on his hips. My eyes follow the deep 'V’ on his lower belly until it disappears underneath the thick waistband. Pain shoots up my arm and I pull it away from the stove to rub with my other hand.

He places the towel on the back of one of the dining chairs. “You okay?”

My skin is a little red where the grease popped me, but it's nothing bad. I shake my head, smiling. “Yeah.” I say.

We stare at each other for a few seconds before I remember that I'm cooking and turn to the stove again. I keep getting distracted.

“I'm almost done.” I tell him as he continues to watch me curiously.

“Do you want help?”

“I'm good, but thank you.” I point with the tongs I have in my hand at the dining table. “You can sit down if you want.”

He nods and sits in the chair where he draped the towel over and places his elbows on the table, rests his head in his hands and follows my every move as I finish cooking. His face lights up when I place a full plate of food in front of him. I feel relief at how fast he digs into the food, the fear of him not liking it leaving my mind.

“This is so good.” He says in between bites.

I stop picking at my plate to smile at him. “Really? I'm glad you like it. This is what my mom used to make when I was a kid.”

He finishes everything, even going as far as lifting the plate to his mouth to get the last bits of egg.

“Is your mom from America?”

“She is actually. My dad and her moved back a couple of years ago after me and my sister moved out.”

He wrinkles his eyebrows and I can't help but think how adorable his facial expressions are.

“They left you guys here?” He asks.

“Well, they wanted us to go with them, but we didn't want to. Korea is our home.”

He smiles at that. “I'm glad you stayed.”

I blush, looking down at the table. “Me too.”

I notice him glancing at my plate. “There's more food, do you want some more?” He flashes another smile, briefly fogging my mind as I stare at his beautiful face.

“I would if that's okay. I haven't eaten much lately. Now that shooting is over I can ease up.”

I frown at his words before serving him more. I watch him clear the second plate before speaking. “I wish they weren't so tough on you.” I say.

He looks up at me, his brown eyes shining. “I'm used to it.” He shrugs and downs a glass of water I sit in front of him.

Sighing I take our dishes to the sink and start washing everything. Jimin gets up and comes to stand beside me, grabbing the clean, soapy dish out if my hands to rinse it.

“Let me help you.”

I smile up at him and nod. His hips press against my lower waist, constantly reminding me of how he's basically half baked beside me. I catch a few glances at his abs pressing against the counter whenever he leans forward. The sight mesmerizes me and I unknowingly leave food stuck to dishes a couple of times, which he points out to me each time takes them from my grasp.

“You seem very distracted, Anna.” He looks down at me, catching my lost expression before I can wipe it off of my face. “What are you thinking of?”

I shake my head and hand him the last dish. “Nothing. Just thinking of how dirty these dishes are.” I say, cringing mentally at my lame excuse.

His cute laughter fills my ears.

“You're a bad liar you know.” He touches my waist and beckons with his fingers for me to turn. I give in and let him pull me against his bare chest, in between his slightly spread legs as he rests against the countertop.

“No I'm not.” I pout, knowing full well that I am.

He leans in and presses his full lips to my jaw, teasing me with small kisses up to my ear. “Don't lie to me.” He whispers in my ear.

I shiver in his arms and close my eyes, relishing in the feel of his lips on my skin. His fingers travel up my belly and he grazes his thumbs under the bottom of my bra. I run my hands up his smooth neck and lace my fingers in his long hair, gently pulling his face from my neck so that I can kiss those teasing lips.

Our mouths connect for a moment before the doorbell rings, ruining the moment. We break apart, the both of us groaning in annoyance.

Reluctantly, I leave him standing in the kitchen to see who's at the door. My eyes widen in surprise at the man standing outside my apartment door.

Sporting a loose fitted blue shirt, tucked into black slacks, Kim Namjoon tucks his hands into his pants pockets and bounces anxiously while staring at the welcome mat where his feet rest. His head jerks up when he realizes I've opened the door already. His mouth opens for a few seconds before he speaks.

“Are you Anna?” He asks.

I frown, clearly remembering meeting him at the fan meet last week. I guess he's seen so many faces he forgot mine already.

“Yes..”

“Why did you come, hyung?” Jimin stands just a few feet behind me, now with the shirt from yesterday on, with a grim look on his face. I step aside, putting my back against the front door so that they can see each other.

Namjoon perks up at seeing Jimin. “Jimin, you can't just abandon your duties whenever you feel like it.” He says sternly, an authority in his voice I've never heard before.

Jimin runs his hand through his hair and looks down at his feet. He doesn't respond.

I step back, making room for Namjoon to enter. “Um..come in.” I wave my hand out beside me, as if he's about to enter a grand palace, but instead he enters a shabby cramped two bedroom apartment.

“Thank you.” He says softly to me as he walks through the threshold.

“You can take a seat, I'll get you something to drink.” I put on my grown up act to help ease the awkwardness filling the air.

Grabbing a few sodas from the fridge I head back into the living room where Jimin is now seated on the couch beside Namjoon who is closely examining a ceramic figure of an elephant that usually sits on my coffee table.

“This is all I have.” I place the cans on the glass-top table.

Namjoon jumps when I talk and almost loses grip on the figurine before I hear a faint cracking sound.

The trunk of the elephant lays broken in his palm. “Shit. Um….I'm so sorry. I-I can get you another one. Where did you buy this?” He stammers on nervously. Jimin snickers into his hand beside him.

A smile threatens to take over and I can't resist what comes out of my mouth. “It was a gift to my mother from when she visited India.” I watch as both boys’ eyes widen in shock. l and I swear I see Namjoon’s lips tremble.

“Oh my God, I….I…” he stutters.

I break out into laughter, resisting the silly urge to slap my knee at my own joke. “I'm just kidding! Don't worry, we bought it at the dollar store.”

Jimin doubles over, laughing the hardest I've seen him laugh since meeting him. Warmth fills my chest at seeing him so joyful. Namjoon on the other hand looks slightly annoyed.

“I'm sorry, that was rude of me.” I apologize to him.

“No, no. You got me good.” He finally smiles, dimples making their appearance on his tanned cheeks. “Sorry for showing up so suddenly. It's just that Jimin here, left and decided to only tell one person where he was going.” He turns to Jimin, whose face is far from the joyous one he had just moments before.

“Oh.” I sit down in the armchair perpendicular to the couch.

Jimin holds one of the unopened soda cans in his hands, running his finger along the outside rim, looking like a toddler who was just put in time out. The sight would have made me giggle if it weren't for the ache shrouding my rib cage.

Namjoon breaks the thick silence. “Why didn't you tell me what you were doing?”

Jimin sits up and places the can back on the table. “Because I knew you wouldn't have let me leave if I told you.”

“So you tell Taehyung and not me?”

“Exactly.”

Namjoon places his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. “You know we're supposed to be packing everything to go home today. You knew and you still left.”

My heart drops from its place. They are leaving today? Jimin is leaving.

Jimin looks at me, sadness covering his usually always smiling face. I avoid his eyes and stare at my lap.

“I know, hyung. But this is our last day, I had to.”

Namjoon sighs loudly. “You know that this has to stay secret, right? If the company were to find out…...if our fans were to find out. They'd eat her alive.” I gulp, knowing he's right. The few rumors that had been spread about the members dating shined some light on just how crazy some of the fan base is. I don't want to be attacked like those women were, especially by a fan base I myself am a part of. “If you guys are going to keep this up, you need to be more discreet. Anyone can follow either of you and take pictures. Please remember that.”

Jimin rubs his eyes. “I know.”

Namjoon looks directly at me. “I don't want you to think that I'm against you, because I'm not. I see how how he's been the past few days. We all have. And I support anything that brings him happiness, even if it's considered forbidden. Just, please….please be careful.”

I blink and nod my head fast. The emotions running through me, preventing me from speaking.

“Thank you, hyung.” Jimin says, remnants of shock slowly leaving his face, being replaced my admiration.

Clearing his throat, Namjoon stands up and glances between Jimin and I.

“I'll be in the car waiting, Jimin. Say your goodbyes for now.” He walks towards the door but stops to look at a picture of me and Mina, that sits on the table by the front door. He picks it up and holds it closer to his face. “Is this the girl you went to the fan meet with?”

“Umm yes.”

I swear I see his eyes sparkle. “What's her name again?”

“Mina.” I smirk at his interest in her. She'd probably pass out if she knew. The thought makes me realize just how long it's been since we last talked. I'll have to call her later. “You're her bias.” I throw in mischievously.

His head snaps towards me. “Really?�� His amazed expression makes me giggle.

“Yes. You're her main squeeze.” What in the hell did I just say? I need to gain some social skills, yesterday.

He places the picture back down and opens the front door. “Make it quick.” He says, aimed at Jimin.

The door shutting sounds too loud, even though it shut normally. I grow nervous, being alone with Jimin again. Things feel tense.

Standing up I start to walk towards my room. “I'll get your stuff.”

He grabs my arm, as I walk past, and pulls me in front of him. I stand between his spread legs, his head tilted up to gaze at me.

“I'm sorry about all of this.”

If hearts could stop beating and still keep you alive, mine would do it right now. What does he mean? All of what?

“For what?” I ask hesitantly.

“For leaving like this. For not telling you. I thought I would have more time to see you before leaving.”

My chest hurts, literal pain. He's talking as if he's never coming back….as if he's never going to see me again. Panic sets in and sweat breaks out over my skin along with the annoying urge to vomit.

“I only live an hour away, so I can come visit you when I can or you can go visit me. If you want.” I remember to breath. He's not leaving me. “The comeback is in a little over a week and I'll be busy, but I promise to make time for you.” He rests his chin on my belly and gazes up at me, his glittering eyes bigger than ever.

I gaze back at his gorgeous face and feel so much relief. He wants to keep seeing me. I would have felt absolutely broken if he had left and never looked back after the night we just shared together.

The thought crosses my mind that things are moving way too fast, but my heart tells it to shut up. I run my palm up and down his face and look into his eyes until he can't stand it anymore. He grabs onto my wide hips and stands up, pressing his lips into mine bruisingly hard. My mind empties.

“Is that okay?” He asks.

“Hmm?” I question him, hungover from his intoxicating mouth. “Oh! Yes.” I smile and kiss him again but this time it's softer. Grasping the hair at the nape of his neck, I pull him in closer.

Ringing sounds from my room. Jimin grunts into my mouth and pulls away. “That's probably Namjoon.” He says kissing the corner of my mouth.

He gathers his few belongings from my room and walks back into the living room slowly. His hand finds the back of his neck and rubs relentlessly at it. Why is he so cute when he's nervous? Scratch that, why is he always so cute?

Knowing that he wants to stay in touch has me feeling happier than ever. No amount of awkwardness could ruin my mood.

“So…” he draws out. “I'll text you.”

I smile and close the distance between us. “Okay. I'll be waiting.”

He flashes me a knee-weakening smile and kisses me passionately until we're both out of breath before stepping out of the door. But not before waving goodbye like the cute little mochi that he is. 

MASTERLIST