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arjwrites · 4 months ago

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In The Stillness (To Love is To Hurt)- Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: A glimpse into the ways you've impacted Dean.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, brief reference to sexual activity. Fem!Reader <3 (but like barely)

A/N: Hi!!! This story is a product of me wanting to try writing a one shot in the kind of writing style I use in my personal works! I write a lot of poetry and drabbley stuff outside of this blog and I felt like some of it would pair well in a one shot like this, based largely in narration rather than dialogue. I am worried it might veer a little bit too far into poetry territory in a few spots- I want to make sure it retains its clarity. Let me know what you think!

There were very few moments of true stillness in Dean’s life. Part of him was always moving somehow- legs carrying him to and from danger, hands absentmindedly cleaning guns and filling shotgun shells with salt, or perhaps the most restless of them all, his mind, always racing and always bearing the weight of the world. Dean’s brain was a machine, programmed all his life to carry out a list of simple tasks. Follow orders, protect Sammy, kill the monster, save the world. While the true meaning of these functions had changed wildly over the years, they always manifested in the worries that kept him up as he lay in bed at night, or ate at his soul during long, quiet stretches of the road.

There was nothing that could completely shut Dean’s thoughts off. Many of his younger years had been spent with a drink in his hand or a girl on his arm, picking his poison and hoping if he tried it often enough, it would become his antidote. Sure, these things sometimes helped, but only ever briefly- he would always wake in the morning, mind racing, head pounding, and searching for a quick getaway. These things were just another excuse to fill the gaps between cases, to keep from ever being still.

Dean was always running from the quiet. When there wasn’t a task at hand, there needed to be something to fill the space. If he lingered in his own mind for too long, he would close his eyes and his thoughts would take off, always landing somewhere where Dean should have been better. Somewhere he should’ve cracked the case sooner or saved the day quicker or protected someone- usually Sam- better. And sometimes, he could swear he felt himself strung up in the pit again, all of the suffering ever inflicted upon him concentrated in the knot that formed in his stomach and pulsing through his body via the racing of his heart. But Dean could never let his mind wander that far, because that far was dangerous. So he kept busy, kept compacting the memories and tucking them away in unlabeled boxes in his head in hopes that he would misplace them. Besides, the wars of the world took precedence far above the violence waging in his own head. It made sense to keep busy.

Dean had been a soldier for years, but the most difficult battle he ever fought was against his own feelings. When you stumbled into his life, magnetic and miraculous, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. He knew if he kept you close, his heart would force him to love you, his duty would force him to protect you, and his fear would force him to bear you as yet another burden. Another person in his life for him to love and to lose. In a desperate act of preservation- both for himself and for you- Dean fought tooth and nail to keep you at bay. He holed himself away at the brink of the darkest corners of his mind. But your warmth and light radiated through the cold world he had made for himself, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. And he couldn’t help but fall. Like much of his life thus far, he had been given no choice in the matter. He felt like you were his destiny.

Dean didn’t believe in much. He had no faith in religion or philosophy or science or himself. Nothing in his life thus far had ever made him feel at peace with his pain and his mortality. The world was chaotic and terrifying and there was no such true thing as heaven or holy or even good. But then there was you. Dean worshipped you, prayed to you, heard your word like gospel. You were the God he had always denied himself. You made sense of his suffering and lit the path to his salvation. It was always for you.

“To love, is to hurt,” you had told Dean one day, and he had looked back at you as if you had three heads. Though he hummed in tentative response, studying your words and the way your mouth moved to create them, he couldn’t bring himself to agree- and yet, he couldn't ask what you meant. He feared that he wouldn’t like the answer.

You would say these things to Dean from time to time, sharing tidbits about love, life, things you had learned in your years and carried with you wherever you went. It felt nice to have something to offer to him in exchange for the labor of loving you. His responses were often full of praise and piety as he kissed down your body in a practiced map of places, rhythmically, as if speaking in a secret language that only you two could decode.

Dean loved you during late nights and early mornings when you were your most peaceful and soft. In these moments he would look outside to see the silent moon or the rising sun, and smile to himself- as if it had been you who hung them there, just for him. Dean loved you on the drive home after finishing a hunt, when he kicked Sam to the back seat just to have you close, to feel your fingers bless his knuckles with your touch as he gripped the gear shift and hummed along with a melody. The lyrics never mattered anymore- to him, every piece of music was a love song he wrote to you.

Dean would watch you. He took you in like a piece of art- one he had waited in line for years to catch a glimpse of, just to be told that he could take the exhibit home. All the velvet ropes had fallen and the warning signs were painted over. Please, do not touch the art. And so he would. His fingertips would trace over your brushstrokes and he would compliment the artistry, always grateful to have been given a closer look.

Your gravity was enough to pull him in from wherever he wandered, though he never wandered far if he could help it. It felt as though you were what rooted him to time and space. Early in your relationship, silence was rare, but in times when the two of you would sit and share slices of it like an orange, he swore he could hear the buzzing of your life force. After a while, he could hear his own, too. And eventually, he would revel in the way your energies would harmonize and dance around each other in a well-rehearsed routine, swirling together and swaying to their own silent rhythm- two beings in love and intertwined in their own right.

He was scared to lose you- of course he was. He would beg for you to stay behind on hunts, or fling himself between you and the monsters you’d encounter. But in some ways, Dean felt you were most likely invincible. You were made of sunlight and stardust, how could anything kill that? And he felt you were too tied into his life to ever lose you- as if he had already peered through a window into his future and seen you in it, waving back at him. You would be there, he didn’t have to worry. It was a feeling that was so strikingly out of his nature that it grabbed hold of him and didn’t let go. He told you about this feeling once, and it comforted and worried you all at the same time. But the next hunt rolled around and he remained your fierce protector, taking on many of the injuries that would’ve befallen you had he not stepped in. As you stitched him up in a peaceful quiet, he mused-

“I think I’m starting to understand that whole “to love is to hurt” thing. You laughed. Dean beamed. The hunting, the fighting, the saving the world. All of it was worth it. He would do it all, just so you would patch him back up afterwards with a kiss and a smile. Sometimes you would play soft music and hum to him- in these moments, he would close his eyes and if he hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought he was in heaven. If it was his heaven, why was he in pain? As he watched you work, he came to an easy decision. He would cut himself open, over and over again for eternity, just for the chance to see your eyes narrow in focus and your mouth purse in concentration as your nimble hands worked to stitch his wounds. Just to feel the vibrations of your lips as they planted a kiss to his cheek mid-melody. He felt his pain was an offering that you rewarded with your presence, and it was an exchange he would happily make throughout his life and far beyond his death.

Dean cherished the moments when the world outside his door faded into insignificance. You were the master switch that shut off the chaos, leaving him to bask in the warmth of your body and soul. But it took a while for Dean to realize the indelible mark you had left on him. He hadn’t spent more than a moment without you since you had first met- a hunter’s life didn’t leave much room for privacy, but that worked to his advantage in the early days. But you had left for a night, having to take care of a family obligation, pressing him a tender kiss and a don’t miss me too much as you rolled out the door that afternoon. And that night, tucked into your side of the bed in an effort to feel closer to you, Dean couldn’t sleep. Things that hadn’t crossed his mind in years went racing back and forth, round and round on a track until he couldn’t breathe- as if they had been chasing him every lap. When he closed his eyes, all of the memories he had stuffed in the closet and under the bed had spilled into a great big room and he was buried in the rubble. And when he opened his eyes and looked out at the moon, it seemed distant and cold, like it belonged to someone else. So he picked up the phone and called you, his body softening at the sound of your voice and falling asleep to the murmur of your words. He woke early, busy researching a case with Sam, but in a brief moment of stillness in the morning, he realized this was what she really meant. I get it now. Thankfully, you were home by dinnertime with a slice of your grandmother’s pie and a few crazy family stories to tell. Dean practically floated to you and wrapped you in a hug you had to beg him to release you from.

It hadn’t been until your absence that Dean realized how much still lurked below the surface. While your presence gilded every facet of Dean’s life with a warm, glowing gold, he still hurt, ached, withered when you were gone. And it wasn’t until this realization that Dean understood the labor it was to love him. And it made him want to be better.

The first time Dean opened up to you was a rainy spring evening. Then again one summer afternoon. He spent August feeding you breadcrumbs from his childhood. And he told you about his time in Hell in late October. You remembered this because you had looked out the window and resonated with the way the leaves trembled and fell from the trees. You raised a shaky hand to his cheek and wiped a tear and swore to Dean that he would never go through that pain again. And Dean, who had just relived each excruciating moment all over again, just for her, spoke.

“I- I get it now. To love is to hurt because it forces you to be better. And it hurts because you take on a whole second person’s pain, wanting to spare them from it. And to love is to hurt because-”

You raised a finger to his lips and then replaced it with a kiss. And you smiled. And you leaned into his chest. And you let things be still. And so did he.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester reader insert #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #supernatural one shot #supernatural reader insert #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff

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biolumien · 5 months ago

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Hiiii!!!! 😊👋 So I only just started Kaiju no. 8!!! New to the fandom and not a manga reader. Idk what’s going to happen in the next episode—all I know is that Hoshina better not d*e lol.

Anyways!!! Obviously I am a huge Hoshina fan/simp!!! I really like your blog and I have enjoyed your Hoshina fics!!!!!! 🥹 And since your requests are open, I wanted to know if I could perhaps make one??? 👉👈

If so, I was wondering if you could do something sort of related to your “say it!” fic??? Like where Hoshina (+ reader) somehow bumps into the ex from operations you mentioned in the fic??? And reader gets SUPERRRRR jealous (lord knows I would be especially if said ex was really beautiful and smart) and insecure. Maybe reader acts a bit distant/moody after the encounter but once Hoshina realizes what’s up he immediately reassures reader and let’s them know how much he loves/cares for them???

Sorry if this request is weird or doesn’t make sense to you, I’ve honestly just been thinking about a similar scenario ever since reading that fic of yours 😭😭 anyways thank you so much for your time 🫶❤️ and please never stop writing, your fics are beautiful 💖💕

notes: hihi; thank you so much for your request; i hope that this is okay; you sent this in before the most recent episode but hoshina's a fairly important character to the story of kaiju no 8 overall so he'll be alright... i combined this with a slightly different ask which also surrounded jealousy but with okonogi; it's very briefly mentioned though.

jealousy as the crux

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader no warnings should apply, i think. wc: 837

hoshina always maintained rather easy conversation with a lot of people—friendly conversation that sometimes got the better of your self esteem when he teasingly doted on okonogi or otherwise.

you’d tried not to bring it up, to not bother him—because envy and jealousy like that was an ugly emotion, of course. it wouldn’t be right to burden hoshina with them–mostly because you weren’t even sure how he’d react. he was plenty envious on his own, you think–key point on think. but it might have been for more reasonable things, surely. like the envious desire to become stronger, or something noble like that.

nothing quite like yours.

but stumbling on hoshina’s ex was never on your list of priorities at all.

so the fact that she was here—was her name amaya?—only made you more uncomfortable. you barely knew anything about her other than the fact that okonogi spoke her name with strained reverence, cautious to never bring it up around hoshina. hoshina seemed to be uncaring of it all, even so–as if he couldn’t be bothered to remember.

she was smoking indoors, her eyes tired and weary.

hoshina didn’t seem to tense up when talking to her, which strangely irked you more.

“hoshina,” amaya says, approaching hoshina with a raised eyebrow. she pats his shoulder, and he chuckles.

“you look well,” hoshina murmurs.

“hm. well as i’ll ever be.” her eyes flit to you, her eyes narrowing. you felt uncomfortable under her gaze, as if you were some unique kind of insect to be pinned up in a collection. “this your new partner? they’re cute.”

“hm?” hoshina laughs. “aren’t they?”

the compliment doesn’t feel good, somehow, as it usually does.

“thought you said you wouldn’t date again,” amaya says, dusting off some ash off the tip of her cigarette, taking another breath before blowing it away from the two of you. “not that we really were.” she snorts. “you were too much of a coward last time.”

“hey,” hoshina says, sounding mock-hurt. “i figured we were better off as friends.”

“hm.” amaya exhales. “whatever you say.”

“i wish you’d sound more enthusiastic about this,” hoshina retorts, laughing again. it’s the same laugh he has when he talks to okonogi, that same doting laughter–but it also wasn’t anything special. it was the same kind of laughter he had when he talked to you, though perhaps it was tinged with more fondness when he spoke to you.

if there was anything hoshina was, it might’ve just been annoyingly consistent.

"it's hard to be enthusiastic surrounding you. your sarcastic energy exhausts me," amaya drawls.

you turn away from the conversation at this point–and yet you can feel amaya staring daggers into the back of your head.

“i’ll let the two of you finish this up,” you say, and your voice sounds far more obviously strained than you’d like for it to be.

hoshina was allowed to talk to other people. but why did amaya irk you so much? was it just the irreverent way she spoke, the way she seemed to be watching you so intently for no reason? what the hell was her problem? as you stormed off, your footsteps grew angrier as you continued to mull over it. no, seriously! what was her problem?

but what was yours, being jealous in the first place? you were being irrational–worried because you wanted hoshina’s attention for yourself but of course it wasn’t right to worry this badly about it to the point that envy would turn your stomach like this, create the brittling sensation in your heart. it wasn’t right, and the fact that you knew it wasn’t right made the whirling sense of bad in you feel worse.

you rub your face roughly, trying to shock yourself into trying to just be fucking normal.

“hey.”

hoshina’s voice is quiet when you turn around, and his face is contemplative, brows furrowed in worry.

“are you done? talking to amaya?” you ask.

“for now,” he says. his eyes focus on your face, concerned now. “are you okay?”

“i’m…”

the words die in your throat.

“i don’t want to be jealous,” you say weakly. “of whatever’s going on. but, i–”

hoshina’s hands are on your face before you can even finish your sentence, squishing your cheeks together.

“mm, i see.” hoshina blinks, humming. “why didn’t you just say so earlier?”

you blink.

“you’re not… mad?” you ask.

“mad?” hoshina raises an eyebrow, cocking his head. it looks cute. “should i be?”

“no,” you say. “i–or, i don’t know. maybe? yes?”

“which is it?” hoshina asks, a teasing smile on his face before his brow furrows a bit. “if you would have just told me earlier i could have easily just told you that there’s nothing going on between me and anyone else but you. i chose you. don’t forget that, okay?”

you blink.

“and i love you,” hoshina says, completely straightforwardly, with sure honesty. “don’t forget that.”

you nod, and he squeezes your face, leaning in to kiss you on the lips.

#kaiju no 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #x reader #kn8 x reader #unpopular opinion: i personally am not a fan of jealousy-based plots so i hope that this is alright #it might be the aroace in me but i just think like. talking it out is the best way to go and early; of course for other drama things #you want to like. amplify it. and as someone who was in a couple relationships before it was always hard to be cognizant of envy #but... idk. diatribe over. just talk it out; whats the point of your mouth if you don't talk out how you feel...?

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 2 months ago

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You and Me

AN: I felt compelled to write something based on the best song off of ATE so, here we are. Also, purple haired Changbin had a vicious hold on me so.

Synopsis: Changbin isn't what you're used to. He's uncomplicated. Fun. Casual. However, maybe that's what you need.

General tags and warnings: Seo Changbin x Fem! Reader, situationship/casual dating, one mention of past alcohol consumption, barely there angst and mentions of a breakup and not much plot.

Smut tags and warnings: While there isn't explicit powerplay, Reader does take charge and Changbin is more on the submissive side, petnames, dirty talk, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple and breast play (f. receiving), Reader is very into Changbin's body (she's just like me fr), strength kink, arm kink of sorts, piv sex without a condom and creampie.

Word count: 3k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

“Hey!” he yells, shooting you a nasty scowl that only makes you laugh before turning his attention back to his needlessly massive television, “You totally cheated!”

Things with Changbin are simple. Easy. Freeing.

“It's not my fault you suck at Mario Kart, Bin,” you respond through laughter that causes your cheeks and stomach to start hurting. Your amusement only grows as you watch him still lose to you even though you're playing while laughing at him and his horrible gaming skills.

You're not sure why he insists on playing when you both know how trash at it he is.

“I swear you cheated,” he mumbles under his breath, though it's loud and clear enough for you to hear. You playfully bump your shoulder against his, “How would I even cheat in this game?” you bite back a giggle when you notice his scowl deepen from the corner of your eye, “I just think someone is a sore loser and can't handle getting their ass kicked,” you sing-song.

“I am not a sore loser,” he argues, fingers mashing the buttons of his controller as his eyes focus on Bowser inching closer to fifth place with every button he all but smashes. “You're just a dirty, lying cheater,” he grumbles, his lips forming a thin line as his attention briefly shoots to your choice of Peach comfortably in second place.

You elect not to give into his accusations. Simply letting your actions speak for themselves and smirking when you cross the finish line in first place. Again. Changbin crosses his arms and refuses to look at you for a few moments and you try your hardest not to laugh at the pout on his face and the way his purple bangs shadow his eyes.

“Changbin,” you start, the struggle to hold back your laughter evident to even your own ears.

“One more game.”

The corners of your lips tick up without your consent, “Changbin, we've already played five rounds and I won four of them,” you respond.

“Just one more. I know I can win,” he argues desperately. You don't think you've ever seen anyone take Mario Kart this seriously. His ego must be terribly bruised right now.

“We had a deal, Binnie,” you remind him, your smile widening, “A deal that was actually over two, whole rounds ago.”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically in resignation and this time you do let the giggles bubble out of you. You can't remember the last time you allowed yourself to just…have fun before meeting the man next to you after one too many glasses of wine and swiping on Tinder.

Minho had been incessantly nagging you to put yourself out there after things crashed and burned with your ex-boyfriend of five years. Saying that you were wrecked after he broke up with you last year would be putting it kindly. You're honestly not sure how you survived that but, a stubborn man who is arguably more cat than human and who loves you more than he'll ever admit likely had something to do with it.

‘The best way to get over someone is to get under someone new. Or, on top of them. Whatever works for you.’ His advice was pretty horrible but, after spending these handful of months with Changbin, you can't say it totally sucked.

You're startled out of your thoughts by a firm hand on your thigh, plush lips kissing along your jaw. You're not sure exactly when he moved but, you aren't complaining. Placing your controller down and letting your fingers run along his purple locks.

“I really like this colour,” you say a little breathlessly, letting him push you down onto his couch and make himself comfortable between your thighs. You've found that it's incredibly easy to get in the mood when it comes to Changbin. A few kisses and groping at his massive arms and you're ready to go.

He laughs softly against your neck, eager hands shoving your shirt up and exposing your breasts to the cool air of his apartment, “I've noticed. If I was a more insecure man, I think you cumming extra hard the first time you fucked me after I dyed it would hurt my feelings,” he muses against your skin, his warm breath combined with the way his firm hands gently knead your tits causing your mind to grow hazy and your clit to buzz to life.

“I mean, it's still you that made me cum so, there's no real reason to feel insecure anyway,” you respond with a snort, arching into him when his soft lips press firmer kisses along your collarbone. Usually endearing eyes becoming heavier with desire with every second his mouth and his hands remain on your more than willing body. “True but, a lesser man would,” he replies, sounding increasingly more uninterested in this conversation and instead focusing on your hardened nipples and spanning as much of his hands as he can along your waist.

You can't say you blame him. The fog creeping into your mind worsens when his warm mouth eventually takes the plunge and envelopes one of the nipples he's been sneaking glances at since you showed up braless hours ago. The determination to make sure you're enjoying yourself is one of your favourite parts of Changbin, as selfish as that may be. He's purposeful, even in moments where his passion overrides the rational side of his brain. His fingers experimenting with how to caux the most visceral reactions from you, his mouth testing to see how soft or hard you like it. Even all these months later, his curiosity and desire to see just how much and in how many ways he can make you feel good makes your head spin.

The light drag of his teeth along your nipple causes your entire body to jolt. Your pussy clenching around nothing when his heavy gaze finds your lidded one through the wisps of his purple hair. God, it looks so fucking good on him. The memory of you two fucking each other close to unconsciousness the first day you saw him sporting it is a fond one and, makes for phenomenal spank bank material when he's too busy to let you bounce on his cock or fold you in half. Not one to be outdone, however, your hands drift from where they'd been clingy to his ridiculously hot shoulders (seriously, you never knew shoulders could be this attractive) to palm his biceps greedily. Changbin knows what his arms do to you. He knows just how stupid they make you and, you're 99% sure he wore this shirt that clings to him like a second layer of skin for that reason.

It's so incredibly easy to lose yourself in the ministrations of his mouth and his hand and his delectable body. To lose yourself in him. Goosebumps rise in his wake as one of his hands hurriedly moves down your overheated body until it reaches the waistband of your tiny shorts. He isn't the only one who's picked up on a weakness or four during the months you've been frequenting each others’ beds. You learned fairly quickly that Changbin is obsessed with your ass and thighs and, will attach himself to them whenever you give him the chance. It's done wonders for your confidence.

You'd pout at him for freeing your nipple from his mouth if he wasn't speeding his way down your body in record time. Every place he presses a wet, hurried kiss into burns and you know you don't really have any ground to complain because anticipation simmers in your veins when he helps you get rid of your shorts and discard them unceremoniously onto his floor. His eagerness might be your favourite characteristic of his, actually. He really acts like if he doesn't get his mouth on your pussy, he'll simply perish. Evidenced by the way his hungry gaze locks onto your dripping folds and he makes himself comfortable on his stomach. If your clit throbs at the sight of his arms flexing as they grip your spread thighs, that's between you and yourself.

“You know, you never have to win a bet in order for me to eat you out,” he says, voice hoarse and heavy, the faintest hints of his breath hitting your bare pussy prompting your thighs to quiver. Glancing down at him, it takes a herculean amount of effort not to just grip him by his roots and shove him into you but, you persist, “I know,” you breathe, your fingers lacing themselves in his hair and toying with it, “but, it feels even better when you do it after I've won one of our little bets,” you finish with lopsided smile that you're certain is dripping with smugness.

The whimper that escapes his plush lips is almost as satisfying as finally feeling him touch you. Changbin is excited and messy when he eats you out. He does it without abandon and without much build up. His fingers are determined to leave themselves imprinted into your thighs with how harshly he's holding onto you. His display of strength fueling you to tighten your grip in his hair and tilt your hips until there's virtually nowhere for him to go. Not that he'd want to go anywhere else based on the way he lavishes your clit with licks and his spit. The vibrations from his groans adds to the tension building in your entire body, shuddering moans of his name and an array of colourful curse words spilling from your lips.

Your grip on his hair grows harsher when he sucks on your clit, albeit gently. If the pain is too much for him, he doesn't show you any indication of that. If anything, his mouth is even more determined and he drags you closer to him. You've always wondered in the back of your mind if just watching how strong he is would be enough to make you cum. You should really test that hypothesis one day. If nothing else, it would breed interesting results.

His tongue presses into your clit in time with one of his sucks, forcing you to focus your attention back on the very hot man smearing your wetness on his face while the character selection screen watches on. His eyes haven't left you once. The lust in them is palpable and, your stomach twists pleasantly with the knowledge that he wants you just as much as you always want him. Even as your hold of his beautiful hair grows more frantic and harsh. Even as he uses his strength to hold you down so that he can make out with your pussy to his heart's content. Even when your own eyes flutter shut and the waves grow increasingly higher. His eyes never stop watching you.

You're almost certain that and a hard press of his tongue are eventually what do you in.

Changbin is never one to quit. He keeps kissing and lapping at you even through your oragsm, although not nearly as intensely as he was a minute ago. The buzz you feel to the very tips of your fingers is prolonged every time his soft lips press themselves into you and he loudly moans into your dripping folds. It's only when you weakly pull at his strands and tiredly call his name that he finally relents. Leaving your clit with a final kiss that makes you giggle. He truly loves to do the most.

“Come here,” you gently command and he follows willingly. You kiss him lazily. Your tongue in search of every bit of your taste on his. Hands leisurely feeling as much of his firm torso and plump ass as they can. You smile into him when he jumps as your hands make their way under his too-tight shirt. Still, he lets you peel him out of it. Only separating from your mouth briefly so he can toss it somewhere to be forgotten about until after the two of you have exhausted each other.

The sight of his bare chest causes your slick walls to clamp down painfully around nothing. The outline of his thick cock through the sweats low on his hips makes you realise, rather viscerally, just how empty you are and how much you'd very much like to be filled. Now.

“What are you–”

His question dies on his tongue when you successfully maneuver yourself onto all fours. His quiet ‘fuck’ brings a smile to your face. It's always fun using his weaknesses against him.

“You look shit, you look so hot like this,” he practically whines, shuffling behind you in record time. Based on the rustling of his sweats and the lack of clothing joining the mess on his floor, you assume he just haphazardly tugged them down enough to free his cock. The image causing saliva to pool in your mouth and more of your wetness to trickle down your sticky, inner thighs.

“That's very sweet of you to say, baby,” you coo, shooting him a look over your shoulder that prompts his cock to jump. Cute. “Now are you just going to stare at my ass or are you planning to actually fuck me?” You ask with a saccharine edge to your tone, swaying your hips for good measure.

You bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling too hard at his overeagerness. He shuffles closer to you in record time, placing a warm, firm hand on your hip while the other guides his fat tip to your pulsing hole. Whatever amusement you were feeling quickly dissipates when he starts to push into you. His hand shaking with every inch of himself he sinks into you. The stretch is always so fucking good with Changbin. Despite who knows how many times you've let him split you open, the first few strokes always take a bit of adjusting.

“How are you always so tight?” He gasps out when his thighs finally meet the backs of yours. Both of his hands grabbing your hips fiercely in an attempt to ground himself as he shallowly thrusts into you. “And so fucking wet,” he groans, his entire body vibrating with the effort it takes not to cum immediately. You've learned that Changbin's stamina is simultaneously impressive and terrible. Terrible in that it honestly doesn't take all that much to make him cum. And impressive in that it only takes a few minutes until he's hard and ready to go again. It adds to the myriad of reasons he's so fun to fuck.

“I'll tell you when you tell me how your cock always fills me ah, Binnie,” you mewl in response, your lashes fluttering when he picks up his pace and starts to stretch you out properly. His only response is a guttural moan and snap of his hips that forces you forward onto his couch's armrest. The smile on your face must look delirious with how fantastic he's making you feel, down to the very tips of your toes. You love when he gets desperate. Your walls sporadically clamping down on him with every ramble he mutters into the skin of your back and the sweaty, hard hold he maintains of you.

“Fuck,” he gasps when you intentionally tighten around him and push your ass back onto him, “You're so–I'm–I'm close,” he heaves into your skin. His sweat drenched hair tickling your skin and his arms flexing around you with the effort it takes for him not to just cum into your perfect pussy. The constant twitching of his cock inside you is delicious and you feel like a woman possessed.

“But Binnie,” you whine with a pout for good measure, batting your eyes at him over your shoulder, “It was just getting so good. You know I love when you fuck me with this fat cock of yours,” you emphasise your point by pressing back against him. A cocktail of desire and delight sitting in the pit of your stomach watching the way his entire body shudders and said fat cock twitches non-stop.

“Don't you want to make me cum on it, bunny?”

And just like he snaps within an instant.

Your moans are swallowed by the fabric of his couch, fingers clawing into the material as the obscene noises of his skin slapping against your and his cock bullying your pussy echo through his living room. But your favourite part is always the sounds. His deep moans intertwined with his fucked out whimpers always make you throb in the best, most lust-induced way possible. The haziness clouding your brain makes it difficult to catch everything he imprints into your skin but, what does hit your ears is more than enough to send one of your hands between your thighs and draw frenzied circles into your swollen clit.

He crumbles first with a broken, slurred moan of your name. His arms keeping you pressed to his hot, sweaty chest as his cock unloads rope after rope of cum into your more than ready pussy. The whines and jolts of his hips, pushing his release as deeply as he can into you, are what spark your own toe-curling orgasm. Well, that and a little help from your more-than-likely-pruney fingers. His grip on you tightens as your walls milk him for whatever he has left. You wouldn't be shocked if his hold on you was the only thing keeping you from completely floating up into the clouds.

For a moment, your respective, laboured breaths are the only sounds in his living room (besides the long forgotten Mario Kart, obviously). Changbin, to no one's surprise, recovers first and pulls out of you as gently as he can. You always hate this part. Still, you cringe a little when he does. He's still for a second after that and you feel a smile splitting your face in half.

“I can feel you staring,” you mutter, turning your head to look at him. There's no hint of shame to be found on his face and it just makes you smile harder.

“Well obviously,” he responds with a huff, “I have a very hot woman on my couch who just let me cum inside of her. Of course I'm going to stare,” he says as though you asked him the most basic question he's ever heard.

“You're so unserious,” you snort.

“That's why you like me so much,” he retorts with an incredibly cheesy eyebrow wiggle.

Well, he's not wrong.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Stray Kids Masterlist | Ko-Fi

#seo changbin x reader smut #stray kids x reader smut #changbin x reader smut #seo changbin smut #changbin smut #stray kids smut

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kwanisms · 2 years ago

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Kinkuary 12 Seungcheol — daddy kink // sex tape/photos

➥ daddy dom!Cheol × little girl!Reader summary: Seungcheol loves falling into his caregiver role as Y/N's daddy but he loves it even more when his baby lets him take pictures of her for him to use when he's alone on tour. wc: 2.4k warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, sexual content (minors dni!): dom!Cheol, sub!Reader, dd/lg themes, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, spanking as punishment, use of pet names (baby girl, little one, angel, etc), unprotected sex (pls use protection!), lowkey love-making, sex tape/photos, Cheol has a big d!ck (sorry, we on the monster cock idol agenda), please let me know if I missed any! Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy @drunk-on-dk @violagoth @mixling-blog @dilfjohnny @fairylixie_0915 Seventeen taglist: @aikisbbq @95cheols @niktwazny303 @indigo35 @moonlightsora @witherednotes @cixrosie Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. Join the taglist!

a/n: apologies that this is late. I’m working on getting back on track! I will never get tired of big d!ck, daddy dom Cheol. Ever. I love those themes with him and I can't associate him with anything else. I also love writing for Cheol so much. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

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It was a very well known fact that Seungcheol loved to take pictures. He loved capturing bits of his life and memorializing them forever. None of that changed, even after you started dating. He just had a new subject to photograph. A new muse.

Despite finding his need to constantly photograph you silly, you were happy to oblige him when he wanted to snap a picture of you in the kitchen or when you were out on a date. He just loved to take photos of you so he could look at you even when you weren’t around.

Early on in your relationship, Seungcheol made it obvious that he was in charge in the bedroom and when you finally opened up about your kinks, he was totally on board. Most of the time he was Seungcheol, leader of Seventeen, S.Coups and you were his girlfriend Y/N.

But there were times, especially when you needed to be taken care of, where you were his baby and he fell into the role of caregiver as your daddy and nothing filled him with a strong sense of pride quite like you putting your trust in him entirely.

“You taste so good,” Seungcheol groaned, licking his lips. Your fingers tightened in his hair, a whimper escaping you as you felt his tongue drag against you. He’d always been vocal about how much he enjoyed going down on you. Even if he didn’t get his dick wet, he could eat you out for hours and he’d done it before.

“Cheol,” you moaned as the tip of his tongue swirled your clit before his lips wrapped around it and he sucked softly. “Yes baby?” He asked, pulling away for only a moment. “Nothing,” you breathed, waving your hand. “Don’t stop.” Seungcheol’s lips pulled into a smile briefly before he continued, licking and teasing your clit.

One of his hands held your hip, your thighs over his shoulders, while the other moved to push your thigh back, opening you up to him more. His tongue disappeared sliding into your hole while his nose bumped against your swollen clit. He groaned against you, the vibrations making your body shudder.

Your stomach muscles tightened as you felt your impending orgasm approach only for Seungcheol to pull away, letting it fall flat, making you whine in protest as he sat up, wiping his mouth and chin with his shirt before moving to lean over you, lips finding yours as one of his hands snuck down your stomach, fingers skimming your skin until he was pushing two fingers inside your wet cunt, making you moan against his lips.

“God I can’t wait to fill you up,” he mumbled, his fingers moving slowly in and out of you, scissoring them to make sure you were more than prepared to take him. No matter how many times you had sex, he always had to take his time to properly prepare you before he could get his cock inside you.

One of the many things you loved about him. His laugh, his eyes, his dimples, his morning voice, and his massive—

“Hey,” he said softly, drawing your attention back to him. “Where did you go?” He asked, an amused smile forming on his face. Your cheeks burned and you shook your head. “Oh, come on baby,” he purred, dragging his fingers against your walls. “You can tell me.” You shook your head again, too embarrassed to speak.

“Were you thinking about my cock?” He asked suddenly, surprising you and making you gasp.

“N-no!” You lied but Seungcheol could see through it. “It’s okay, baby girl. I know you love daddy’s cock,” he said, leaning down to press his lips to your cheek as you whined in embarrassment. He pulled back, a grin present on his lips, dimples on display. “You don’t have to feel embarrassed, baby,” he cooed.

“Do you want it now?” He asked, slowing his fingers and waiting for you to answer. Nodding, you mumbled out a yes, cheeks still flushed.

“All you had to do was ask, little one,” Seungcheol answered, pulling his fingers from you and sitting up. You watched as he stripped, removing his clothes and tossing them towards the hamper in the corner of the room, not caring whether or not he made the throw.

“Top or bottom?” He asked climbing back onto the bed. “Bottom,” you whispered as he hovered over you. “Of course,” he said with a smirk. “My little pillow princess,” he added, taking you in a searing kiss. “How do you want it?”

You knew he was asking if you wanted it rough or soft. He always asked this and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on even more, that he was able to prioritize your experience and pleasure over his own.

“Slow,” you murmured. “Hmm?” Seungcheol asked, enjoying the way you blushed and squirmed under him. “I didn’t hear that princess.”

“I want it slow, daddy,” you blurted out, the eternal flush on your cheeks burning just as much as before.

“Slow?” Seungcheol asked, dipping his head to kiss your neck, lips dragging up to your ear. “You want daddy to take it slow?” He asked again, making you nod. “Want me to make love to you?” He whispered. “Yes,” you breathed out as you felt him grind against your soaked center.

“If my baby wants it slow, then she’ll get it slow,” he muttered, guiding the tip of his cock to your slit, brushing against you teasingly before pushing past your folds, gliding the head in. Your back arched off the mattress, one hand gripping the sheets under you, the other grabbing his arm, squeezing his bicep.

“Always so tight for me,” Seungcheol whispered, kissing the tip of your nose. “Relax, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.” As your body relaxed under him, Seungcheol was able to glide in further, your tight walls welcoming him with erratic fluttering as he slid in further and further until he was fully encased inside you.

“Eyes on me, pretty,” he said softly as he stilled inside of you. Your eyes met his and you felt your cheeks burn and the urge to look away but you held his gaze. A smile spread across his face as he reached up to caress your cheek. “That’s it,” he said sweetly. “There’s my girl.”

You whined at the amount of affection he was giving you, your hand on his arm squeezing softly. “Daddy, please,” you whimpered, attempting to move your hips but his weight on you kept you in place. “Please move.”

Seungcheol let out a chuckle and nuzzled your cheek. “Since you asked so nicely,” he murmured, pulling out before pushing back in slowly. It felt good but not enough to give you what you were craving.

“Faster, daddy, please,” you whispered. “Faster?” Seungcheol asked, keeping the same languid pace. “But you asked for it like this. Said you wanted it slow. This is slow, baby,” he murmured, pressing short chaste kisses to your cheek. “Do you want it faster?” He whispered in your ear. “Yes,” you gasped as he gave you a sharp thrust. “Yes, daddy,” you answered.

“Then I guess I can give you what you want,” he muttered, hips moving faster, burying his cock deep inside you with each thrust. You moaned loudly, walls clenching around him. “You’re so responsive,” Seungcheol noted. “You react so well to me.”

Your brain was understanding him but unable to form a response except in whimpers and moans. Seungcheol didn’t seem to mind, instead focusing on keeping a steady pace and not pounding into you like his instincts told him to.

“Oh, shit,” you cursed, immediately regretting the words when you heard Seungcheol click his tongue. ‘Fuck.’

“We’ve talked about this before, little girl,” he said in a darker tone. “I’m sorry, daddy,” you replied quickly. “It just slipped out. I won’t do it again,” you tried to backpedal but Seungcheol wasn’t having it.

You whined as he pulled out of you, sitting back and grabbing your hips to roll you over onto your stomach. “We’ve talked about your language,” he said, pulling you back onto his lap. “You know the rules,” he added as he held you still. “No, please, I’m sorry!” You whimpered frantically, crying out when you felt his hand land a sharp smack to your ass.

“Me too, baby. You know I’d rather be making you feel good but we have rules for a reason.” Your body jumped as you felt another blow land in the same spot. “I’m sorry, daddy. I’m so sorry,” you whimpered, holding back a sob as his hand made contact once more with the same spot before rubbing it soothingly.

“I think three is enough,” he said as he continued to caress the reddened skin of your bottom. “Keep this in mind and think before you speak, little one,” he added, leaning over to kiss your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, checking to make sure he hadn’t hurt you. Nodding, it took a moment to form a sentence. “Yes. I’m okay.” Seungcheol pressed another kiss to your shoulder before letting you go.

You climbed off his lap but only made it a short distance away before he was pushing you onto your stomach.

“Hold still,” he said sternly, keeping one hand on your shoulder, the other gripping your hip and pulling up so your ass was raised. “You still want it slowly?” He asked, his voice low. You nodded, turning your head to the side as your cheek was pressed to the mattress. “Do you trust me?” His voice was even softer now.

You nodded, letting out a sigh as you felt his cock grind against you.

“I trust you.”

Seungcheol wasted no time, pushing back into you from behind, snapping his hips in evenly timed thrusts, his cock hitting deeper in this new position and the angle making you see stars in your vision with each measured thrust.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He growled, watching the way your ass bounced each time his hips hit you. “Feels so good, daddy,” you moaned, fingers curling into the sheets. “Cock feels so good!”

Seungcheol let out a chuckle. “Can’t even form full sentences? Is it that good?” He asked, keeping a firm hold on your hip, his other hand keeping your chest pressed against the mattress. “Is daddy fucking you dumb?”

A whimper left your parted lips but you couldn’t deny it when he was right. You couldn’t form a full sentence. He’d once again rendered you speechless with just a few sharp thrusts.

Seungcheol glanced to the bedside table where his phone sat and had an idea. He loved to memorialize most moments with you and this was no different.

He slowed his hips. “Grab my phone,” he ordered, moving his hand from your back. “W-what?” You asked, being lost in another world from how good his cock felt that you hadn’t heard him properly.

“Grab my phone from the bedside table, angel,” he repeated, nodding towards the device.

You reached out, grabbing the edge of the phone and held it up for him to grab from you.

“Stay still,” he warned, opening his camera and lining up the shot. He snapped a couple point of view pictures before turning the camera to video and pressing the start button. His hips continued to snap forward, thrusting hard and deep into you, making you moan out. On screen it looked amazing.

Your reddened ass from his earlier punishment, the way your ass bounced with each thrust, the base of his cock visible every time he pulled back, even the way your fists gripped the sheets.

He knew he was going to save this for later use.

After ending the recording, he locked the screen and tossed his phone to the side on the bed and gave you a few more thrusts before pulling out with a hiss. You whined as he rolled you over, spreading your thighs and sliding his cock back into you.

Your thighs rested on his as he grabbed his phone with one hand and your waist with the other. He opened the camera again, snapping a couple pictures before starting another recording.

You moaned out, keeping a firm grip on the sheets as your boyfriend resumed the same pace from before.

You looked up to see the phone in his hand and whined. “Are you recording this?” you gasped.

You could see the smirk on Seungcheol’s face. “Shh,” he said, letting go of your hip and moving to caress your cheek, his thumb brushing your lip and entering your mouth when you parted your lips. He let out a growl as you sucked on his thumb, his thrusts increasing in speed.

“Such a dirty little girl,” he grunted. You moaned around his thumb, whining when he pulled his hand from your face, fingers skimming down the skin of your neck past your collar, stopping to cup your breast and squeeze gently. “You gonna cum for me?” Seungcheol rasped out, his hand traveling down your stomach and stopping just above where your bodies met.

You nodded quickly, moaning when you felt his thumb start rubbing against your clit in time with his thrusts. He pointed the camera down where he could see his cock disappear repeatedly inside your warm cunt. “Be a good girl and cum for daddy,” Seungcheol groaned, continuing to record as your walls convulsed around his cock.

“That’s it,” he breathed as your moans grew in volume and pitch until your thighs attempted to close but he pushed them apart with one hand, keeping one thigh pinned as he continued to thrust into you. “You’re gonna make me cum,” he moaned. “D-daddy,” you whimpered as your walls clenched around him again.

“Oh fuck,” Seungcheol groaned, hips stuttering as his cock twitched inside you. He came with a loud moan, his release coating your walls as he continued to fuck you through his high until he slowed to a stop. Keeping the camera trained on your cunt, he slowly pulled out, moving to record your fluttering hole as his cum slowly spilled out of you.

He pushed his cum back into you with two fingers before turning off the recording and setting his phone aside.

“I can’t believe you recorded that!” You finally said after coming down from your high. “Don’t worry, baby,” he said, continuing to push his cum back into you as it tried to escape.

“That’s for my eyes only.”

#svthub #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #scoups scenarios #scoups imagines #scoups smut #scoups x reader #kwanisms kinkuary #kinkuary 2023

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xpao-bearx · 2 years ago

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"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

NOTES: Y'ALL the way my jaw literally DROPPED when not even H A L F a minute after I posted the first part, you guys were already exploding my notifs which I wasn't expecting AT ALL I swear Oscar Isaac's really got us sluts in a chokehold O_o

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!! 😭❤️❤️❤️ This is truly wonderful and encourages me a lot, especially since this is my first ever Moon Knight fic AND the first time a story of mine blew up this much! This is also great cuz I've been terribly sick, but of course ✨️priorities✨️ I gotta shower our Moon Boys with some much deserved lovin' and it's just so fucking nice to see that it's paying off! \(^o^)/ I was so happy and inspired that I couldn't resist and just HAD to write this second part ASAP!

Dissociative identity disorder is also briefly mentioned here and if I made any mistakes, then I apologize and please kindly correct me. And I feel like the ending may be a bit rushed, but it's the best my tiny brain could think of!

I'll shut up now and I'm very proud and excited to present... PART 2!!! 🥳 And if you'd like to be tagged for any of the next parts, feel free to tell me!

Also Marc does something very asshole-y here oop

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland

Part 2: You made me feel I've nothing to hide

After work, instead of heading home, you rushed straight to the nearest boutique to buy yourself a new dress for tomorrow night. The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults and you felt as if you could spontaneously burst into song like in those cheesy musicals your former college roommate was so obsessed with.

You knew the employees were all looking at you oddly as you constantly giggled to yourself like some lovesick schoolgirl while you perused through endless racks of the latest fashion. Of course you knew you were acting ridiculous--crazy--but wasn't that what attraction or, dare you say, love did to you?

Besides, you wanted tomorrow to go perfectly. In your eyes, Steven Grant was already perfect--perfectly imperfect or imperfectly perfect, you didn't know or care which was which. You just knew that you liked him. A lot.

And it relieved and pleased you to the moon and back that he actually felt the same! So, who cares what anyone else thought?

You just hoped that after tomorrow, Steven would like you enough to go on another date. And another. Then another...

Maybe you were looking--wishing--too far into the future, but you swore you could almost hear wedding bells chiming in the distance.

God, is this what happens after being a total virgin for twenty-something years? There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin, but your insecurity bugged you. What if you weren't at all what Steven expected?

But another part of you, a positive ray of sunshine, clobbered all your doubts. For once, you were going to be brave! You were going to take a leap of faith! You were going to control your life!

Because, in the end...it was worth it. Steven was worth it. Sure, you've experienced various crushes throughout your life, but not like this. Not with Steven. This felt more...serious. Adult.

It felt as if right from the get-go crossing fates with "Steven with a V", your life was about to change--for the better.

Of course you were afraid, and yet you've also never been more sure of something in your entire existence. You've been waiting this long and you're glad you did, and now you were ready to jump head first (and head over heels) into whatever adventure was in store for you--with Steven.

You then squealed excitedly when you spotted the perfect dress, ignoring the judgmental stares other customers shot you as you hurriedly grabbed it like a child in a toy store.

Yes, tomorrow was going to be a dream come true.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes early. It was totally embarrassing how eager you were, but you couldn't help yourself. Though at least with how early you were, you snagged a good table overlooking the restaurant's beautiful back garden strung with fairy lights and you can have some time to calm down before Steven came.

And you looked stunning. Your hair tumbled down in elegant waves, light makeup adoring your face and donning the contact lenses you rarely used. And the dress you bought fit like a glove; it was the shortest dress you now owned, stopping around your thighs. It was baby blue and had an off-the-shoulder style with some frills, and it hugged your figure just right.

You felt very self-conscious. You've always fancied clothes like this, but never actually had the guts to wear them--until now. Did it really suit you? But you couldn't deny that you were happy and, truly, isn't that all that mattered?

"Shall I get you started, ma'am?" A waitress snapped you back to reality and you shook your head.

"Not yet, thank you. I'm still waiting for my...date." The word made you blush furiously, as if sharing a dirty little secret.

The waitress smiled and nodded, leaving you by yourself once more as you sighed wistfully.

You took out your phone from your purse, checking the time. 6:45 p.m. Alright, not too long now. And you double checked that the address you texted Steven was correct, which it is.

You settled back in your chair, peering over the garden and giggling softly.

"I'm right here for you, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

"It's about time, innit?" Steven murmured, glancing over anxiously at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. It was already eight p.m., a whole hour past your meeting time (not to mention he arrived embarrassingly early). And he was just informed by one of the servers that the restaurant was closing in thirty minutes, to which a pitiful look was also casted to him.

"It's not 'about time', Steven. It's late." Marc gruffly pointed out, Steven seeing Marc's reflection glaring back at him from the shiny silver flower vase set in the middle of the table. "Face it: she's NOT coming."

"Don't you dare say that." Steven's voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a certain edge to it that one would normally not hear from the soft man. "Y/N would never do that. Not her. She's just running late, I'm sure. Traffic and all."

"Oh, please, we both know that even the traffic here doesn't take this long." Marc scoffed. "Stop kidding yourself, Steven. She's. NOT. Coming."

Steven frowned, and with a shaky hand he pulled out his phone. He should've called you since way earlier. It was the logical thing to do, after all. But he was...scared. Scared that, maybe, a terrifying maybe, Marc was right.

He found your number and called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it began to ring. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until you finally picked up, voice groggy.

"Hello..?"

"Y/N..." Steven heaved a relieved exhale. "Hey, uh, I'm at the restaurant. Guess you got stuck in traffic?" He chuckled halfheartedly.

A long, dreadful pause. And then:

"Fucking EXCUSE me?"

Steven's eyes widened, having never heard you swear before. He was just about to ask what was wrong when you continued without skipping a beat.

"Are you playing with me, Steven? Is this what it is?!" You definitely sounded angry, but he didn't miss the faint sniffles coming from you. Shit, were you crying? What the hell was happening?

"How can you be such a...such a DICK?!" You shouted, causing him to jerk his phone a few inches away from his ear. "I fucking waited for you like a total idiot until closing time, you prick! You never showed and you never answered my calls! What the fuck can you POSSIBLY gain from toying with me, huh?!"

"W-Wait, I don't understand!" Steven was nearly hyperventilating, all the colour draining from his face and his mind running a mile a minute. "I-I'm here! Right now! D-Didn't we agree? Friday night, seven p.m.?"

You were dead silent. Steven was going to check if the call was still connected when you beat him to it.

"Steven... It's Sunday."

Steven froze. Then his eyes landed on Marc's reflection, refusing to meet his gaze and it clicked.

"Y/N." Steven said slowly, steadily, despite feeling like crying himself. His eyes were still on Marc, cold and pissed. "Please. I promise I have an explanation. I just... God, can we meet? Y/N, please, I'll come to you."

"No need." Tears threatened to spill from Steven's despondent eyes at your flat response, before you suddenly added: "I'll come to you. You said you were at the restaurant, right? Stay there."

You ended the call, and Steven flared at Marc--no longer caring if other people perceived him as a lunatic fighting with himself.

"Why the fuck would you do that, Marc?"

"Steven..." Marc struggled to find the right words, and the asshole actually had the audacity to look ashamed. "Listen, she's nothing but a distraction--"

"You always think you know better, yeah?" Steven laughed humourlessly. "A distraction? YOU stop kidding yourself, Marc. This is not just your life, but mine. And it's about fucking time you stop being such a selfish bastard!"

"Um, sir?" Steven winced, greeted by a baffled waiter. "We'll be closing soon, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if you're not ordering anything."

Humiliated and repeatedly babbling apologies, Steven abruptly sprang out of his chair and dashed outside. He sighed deeply and collapsed listlessly on the ground, finally allowing the tears to fall.

He vaguely heard footsteps approaching until he saw a pair of worn bunny slippers in front of him. His eyes heavily dragged upwards, finding you staring back at him with an unreadable expression and breaths coming out in ragged pants.

"Y/N!" Steven jumped up, surprised you actually came despite the way he--the way Marc--treated you. Your bloodshot eyes and the dried tears on your cheeks only made him feel even shittier, much more fucked up than any beating he suffers on a mission.

Because at least with those, he can be confident that he and the boys would win no matter the challenge. But with you?

He had everything to lose.

Your hair was a total mess; glasses slightly crooked and you were in your pyjamas, a matching set of a purple tank top and shorts with stars and moons. The only thing you had covering you was a purple silk robe, drawing it closer to your chilly body as your eyes narrowed at Steven.

You should be mad at him, and you were. Still, despite everything, you hopped on to the first bus you saw and scrambled the rest of the way here as fast as you could.

But now that you were here...what in Khonshu's name were you going to do? You could scream at him with all the pain you haven't had the pleasure to release like you did on the phone, but you'd just be wasting your breath. Then again, he wasn't lying. He really is here. And it confused you more than anything.

And seeing him like this, looking so...sad. Well, it made you sad. Him miserably clenching onto a heart shaped chocolate box, fat globs of tears cascading down his cheeks as he gawked at you with his pretty doe brown eyes.

You raised your hand, and Steven shut his eyes as he braced himself for the slap he very much deserved--only to be met with your soft palm, wiping away his tears tenderly.

"Explain to me, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

The travel to Steven's apartment was spent in deafening silence, but it brought upon a strange sort of comfort. Unconsciously, you hugged Steven's black jacket that he had offered you earlier even closer to your much smaller frame. It soothed your nerves, being completely enveloped in his smell; fresh soap with a hint of musky cologne.

Once you reached his unit, you couldn't help but smile. It was just so...Steven. It was a bit messy, but a good kind of messy. You didn't really know how to describe it, but it warmed your heart especially when you saw a giant fish tank with only one goldfish.

"Cuppa tea?" Steven asked to which you shook your head, facing him fully.

"No. I'm a 'get over it' kinda girl so whatever your explanation is, I'd rather we just nip it in the bud." You huffed before you halted, biting your lip. "Oh, uh, sorry... Of course, if you wanna have tea, you can. It's your home, after all."

Steven laughed, his first real laugh that entire day. "Are you always this nice to blokes you should be mad at?"

"Only if they are really into Egyptology and have beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous curls." You rolled your eyes though you couldn't suppress your grin before you cleared your throat, getting a hold of your stupid giddy self. "Now, explain."

Steven's demeanour instantly shifted, serious now and quite uneasy. But he nodded and gestured towards the couch. You walked over and plopped down, Steven sitting next to you and keeping a respectful couple inches between the two of you.

He looked down at the ground, carefully considering his words before meeting your gaze solemnly. "Have you ever heard of dissociative identity disorder?" You nodded, previously learning about it in Psychology class and researching about it due to personal interest. "That's...what I have. I'm an alter within a system, and there are two others--Marc Spector and Jake Lockley."

"Am I correct to assume that when you asked me out...it wasn't actually you?"

Steven blinked, rather startled that you were taking this so well. "Yes. Jake was the one who asked you out."

"Was he also the one who didn't show up for the date?"

"No, that would be Marc." He grumbled. "And listen, I'm truly sorry about him. He's a right twit. It may not have been me who didn't show up, but that absolutely doesn't excuse the hurt it caused you. I am so, so sorry, Y/N."

Your brows furrowed, mulling over this new revelation. But...you believed him, especially when it explained all those times you secretly caught Steven muttering incoherently to himself or staring at his reflection and quietly reacting to something. You were curious about more, of course, but Steven didn't have any reason to lie about such a serious matter. And if he was lying, there were plenty of other things he could say. But the way he acted, and just the look in his eyes--he knew the risks of opening up to you, but he did it anyway.

You clasped his hands in yours, sighing. "I know I look calm right now, but trust me, I'm freaking the fuck out." You chuckled, and Steven felt safe enough to join you. "But... I trust you, Steven. And I believe you. Tell me one thing, though. Are you...into me? Like, at all?"

"Of course I am!" He replied in a flash, making you both pause before erupting into easy laughter. "Why would you even have to ask that, love?"

"It's just... Well, if Jake was the one who asked me out, it made me wonder if you really did like me." You mumbled, looking away.

Steven gently grasped your chin, tipping your face back towards him. "I've liked you since the day we met, Y/N. In your pink skirt and the cute little pigtails you had." He smiled, eyes so amorous and gleaming with sincerity. "Truth is, I've wanted to ask you out since forever. I'm just not as...forward as Jake is."

"And that's fine. But hey, we gotta thank him 'cause Lord knows I'd just spiral into a panic attack if I ever made the first move." You chuckled. But it gradually died down as Steven continued to stare at you, and you never thought you would ever have someone look at you the way Steven did; as if you were precious treasure hidden within a sacred tomb.

Slowly, ever so slowly, your body started moving of its own accord. You were leaning closer, closer, closer--a mere breath away from his lips before he piped up.

"I'm also Khonshu's Avatar!"

"Say what?"

"Um, well, you see--" He stammered, mentally slapping himself.

'Don't say anything, Steven.' Marc warned, and it took all of Marc's willpower not to seize control and actually slap Steven.

But it was too late now. Steven already said too much, but he wanted to be honest with you. Utterly so. And since you wanted to nip this in the bud, now was the best time more than anything.

"Erm... You've seen the news, yeah?" He didn't grant you the chance to respond as he rambled. "Masked vigilantes... Moon Knight and Mr. Knight? They're actually...Marc and I."

"Steven, this is--"

"I'll show you, Y/N. I'll summon the suit."

"Summon the soup? What is happening--"

Steven stood up, and a split second later there was a whirl of white. And sure enough, there was none other than one half of the mysterious heroes you've been seeing a lot on the news recently; his glowing white eyes locked with yours, crisp ivory suit and batons clutched tightly in his hands.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in--"

"Handsome..." You blurted out before you can restrain yourself.

"Huh?" Steven blushed underneath the mask, and you were the same as your cheeks tinted crimson. Then you rose from the couch, closing the gap between you two and removing his mask.

His curls stuck every which way and his eyes were as wide as the full moon, making you giggle. "You're so handsome, Steven. And yeah, this is a fucking lot to take in. To be honest, a part of me is still wondering if this is all just a dream." You reached up, caressing the side of his face sweetly and smiling. "But...thank you. Thank you for being honest with me."

His batons dropped to the floor, trembling hands hesitantly settling on your hips. You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he looked down at you, tears once again glistening in his eyes. Happiness, relief, adoration--how can so many exhilarating emotions crash over him all at once?

"Can I be more honest?" He whispered, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed deeply into your eyes. "I...want you to stay with me."

Your cheeks hurt from how impossibly wide your smile has stretched, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.

"I'm staying whether you like it or not, Steven with a V."

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manicpixiefelix · 10 months ago

Text

and other things that happened by the red staircase

{ One-Shot for head, heart, hand. }

Summary: Like with all events at Saltburn, you take great care to learn all you can about the guests for the upcoming Catton Family Reunion, to make sure you can make a good impression. You and Venetia, however, discover that Felix may be making too good of an impression on his recently un-estranged cousin.

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: felix fingering(/possibly going down on) his cousin but its not super explicit, reader having a social anxiety regarding the social event, venetia being kind of a nasty little perv i love her

A/N: 3841 words. this was meant to just be a little something about venetia and reader teasing felix after finding out he accidentally fingered his cousin, something i could write on my phone before bed. which i did but i didn't stop writing for 4 hours and it became too long for just an answer. also because there's a bunch of catton family lore ive invented and put it all in here.

also before any discourse arises, there's a character briefly mentioned here, Marv, who is an old butch lesbian who uses he/him pronouns. he is not trans, but chooses to use he/him, look into queer history if this bugs you, or go outside and off of my blog. you're reading the writing of an agender it/its lesbian, my blog is not a place for queer discourse, it's a place for being freaks about Jacob Elordi and Barry Keoghan.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

It's been a particularly stressful event for you; so much of Felix's family is in attendance and you're desperate to impress them. It had been called a reunion, but nothing at Saltburn was ever so simple, nor so informal. As always you've prepared ahead of time; Duncan and Elspeth, as they always did, walked you briefly through the guest list, however unlike usual, instead of leaving you alone with the detailed dossier of guests, Elspeth herself had sat with you in one of the numerous studies - the lilac one - and gone through in meticulous detail. The family friends they refer to as cousins, the family they refuse to acknowledge beyond a handshake - and why. All the Catton branches and the gossip that haunts each. Things like how it's the first event in ten years that Sir James' estranged, illegitimate half-sister and her family were invited to. She's laughing, and you act like your nerves aren't on fire, like there isn't bile rising in your throat out of fear of the faux pars you could see on the horizon.

"Oh they're going to love you, darling," she assures. The minute she leaves you start nervous crying over the dossier, which quickly becomes an anxiety attack. It's been a very long time, especially since they'd kindly set up this system to alleviate your known anxieties, that you'd been this afraid of a dinner.

None of them can know.

You're almost eighteen, you're meant to be well past this, meant to have learned to cope with it by now.

On the night of the event, Farleigh's the only one looking as queasy as you feel - the family's pitying looks and grating questions have him going for a smoke break almost every five minutes. Still, Venetia's never without a drink in hand despite her mother's disapproving looks, and Felix is nowhere to be seen. At least at this family affair there's a number of people your own age. Many related, but many not - more friends of the family, or illegitimate offspring. Still, you don't want to put your preparations to waste, want to make a good impression.

There's mean laughter from by the fireplace as you find yourself in conversation with Sir James and his second cousin Barty, praising the man for his recent and lucrative foray into financially supporting broadcast television. James gives you and incredibly surprised and approving look, while Barty lights up with delight, claiming that there was hope for the young after all it seemed. Casting a glance to the fireplace, you see a few mean looking teens all watching you with sneers.

Barty asks how you found yourself here, and James pats you on the back before you can answer, claiming you as one of the wards of Saltburn; a good influence on his dear son, Felix. Pride flares in your chest. But you can still hear the teens call you a freak.

Its taking everything in you to not try and find sanctuary in the company of Felix, Venetia, or Farleigh. Its incredibly tempting, considering the abundance of desperate eye contact you and Farleigh especially are sharing, but you worry that if you don't keep face, don't put your information to use, don't remain visible to everyone in the room who you've convinced yourself are even tangibly related to Felix and his immediate family, every single one of them will hate you.

One day you will reckon with how profoundly your upbringing effected the expectations you place on yourself. Today is not that day. So you smile at Mildred Catton - by marriage, second cousin, young widow and now spinster. Well, she has a girlfriend, judging by the way Elspeth had spoken about her roommate of twenty-five years, and she has a kind and knowing smile as she compliments you - so beautiful, what a handsome young thing you are, oh you do remind me of Marv like this, back when we first met, of that's cute, you'd love him. Marv is short for Marvel Elizabeth, the butch woman who lives with Mildred and runs a bike shop and who you'd spent probably too much time looking at in the dossier, his arm around Mildred in her photo, both of them smiling so wide.

You kind of wish he was here. When you share the sentiment, Mildred looks a little crestfallen; you get the impression that not a lot of the Cattons share your feeling.

Still, talking to Mildred helps ease your nerves considerably. At least until you realise that it's been quite some time since you'd seen Felix.

You don't need him at all times... Don't need to know his whereabouts at every second of every day... But you've found yourself trapped in a conversation with a gaggle of the newer, younger, shinier wives of Felix's various uncles-something-times-removed, and one hadn't been updated in the dossier and you greeted her as the wife she'd replaced. So now you're mortified, like a deer in the headlights as they're all judging you, and you know you're on the verge of panicking or throwing up -

"Need to steal our lovely Y/N for a moment," Venetia, your saviour. She slips an arm in yours and doesn't wait for an answer.

"Venetia, dear -" Christie, owner of a failing fragrance business that she desperately doesn't want people to know is failing, but that her husband had drunkenly, forlornly confessed about to Sir James, barely get two truly disdainful words in before Venetia brightly throws over her shoulder -

"Love your dress, matches your roots, talk later Auntie Chris," and you can only imagine the flustered fury on Christie's face as the other women try not to compare the dark dress to the woman's dark roots peeking through her blonde hair. You, however, are gone speechless in your nauseous panic, and press yourself to Venetia's side as she pulls you through the crowd, "you looked about ready to kill yourself like one of those dishonoured samurai," she says quietly but casually.

"Yeah, that was the rough plan," you managed to joke weakly. Your heart was racing; you hated being like this. It takes you a moment to properly focus back in on the moment, and realise Venetia was dragging you along with considerable purpose, "are you okay?"

"I need your robot brain to help me decide if something's funny or just gross."

"My robot brain?"

"You know everyone here because - and I say this with love - you're a freak about these things-"

"Didn't know Iona," you muttered, once again horrified, gaze going glassy as all you can think about is how you called her Misha. Her husband had a type; models from northern countries and very little sense of humour, it seemed. Venetia snapped her fingers in your face, frowning, keeping your mind from wandering too far.

"They got married a month ago, you probably won't even see her again," she rolled her eyes, taking you by the shoulders, leading you from the main entertaining area towards the main parlous, "but the point is, I know we refer to everyone as Aunt or Uncle or Cousin or whatever, but I'm not even actually at all related to like half of them," Venetia pauses, looking at you very seriously, "but you know the difference, right? Like if I pointed to someone, you'd know how exactly they're here?"

"Uh, yeah, of course," it's who you were, it's what you did, "don't you?"

"Not," she visibly hesitates, gaze shifting to look around the room, "not really," she admits, they're all just, you know, family. There's always been too many to bother with the how or why of any of them, unless mum or dad felt it was important for me and Felix to keep in mind specifically," but after a beat she met your gaze with a wolfish grin, "or if it was particularly scandalous." Okay, you think you're starting to get her intentions.

"So who are you wondering about and why?"

The way Venetia was smiling could not possibly mean anything good.

"So," Venetia took you by the shoulders and steered you through the grand foyer towards the stairs, as if on her way to yours or Felix's room. Her voice had gotten quieter, conspiratorial, "I've been watching this unfold all night," she explains gleefully, "and I did think it was rather bold to be looking to get someone in bed at a family reunion, though I supposed that there is a good chance that they're not even related; as we've discussed, family is a rather loose, fond title for many of them here tonight," she's choosing her words incredibly carefully, skirting around her point for dramatic effect, "and," she stops in the doorway by the red staircase; you think you can hear faint moaning not too far away. Venetia's voice is a whisper, "I wanted to give the benefit of the doubt, considering I'm pretty sure I've actually never seen this girl in my life, so I can't say who she belongs to here."

Around the corner there's an attempt at a shushing that sounds more masculine, judging by the whisper of laughter that accompanies it, and a young woman's giggled apology, followed by a breathy gasp, and the faint sound of wood scraping against the marble floor. You and Venetia peer around the corner like the Hardy boys, you ducking down and her leaning over you.

The girl in question is leaning back against the antique, wooden end table at the end of the short hall, head throw back, chest heaving with wanton breathes. Wearing a flowing, green dress that looked almost like silk, but was clearly rayon when you had seen her up close earlier, you knew immediately who she was. More importantly, you were surprised to see someone in a suit on their knees in front of her, beneath her dress.

Alyssa Morelli has seemed absolutely out of her mind with boredom and disdain for this entire affair in the brief few moments you'd spent with her. Like you she was seventeen, and was the eldest daughter of Sir James' estranged half sister. Having barely any information about her, and also trying to focus on not losing your cool regarding that fact, it had made conversation, at least for you, incredibly difficult.

She hated the wine, hated her mother for dragging her along, hated the way rich people talked about nothing, and thought everything about Saltburn, the Cattons, and the entire night was a frivolous display of meaningless excess and wealth. Rich people are such freaks, she'd told you, with a look that clearly said that includes you, and she's finished another glass of champagne with one large gulp and a shudder. For a long moment you'd looked at her - perhaps you could have been a little less unnerving about it, but she'd caught you off guard - as you tried to think of something to say.

"I think you'd thrive at university," you blurt out. She gives you a look like you were some kind of unpleasant bug, having the audacity to continue speaking to her. One of the staff passes with a tray of more champagne, and you pluck two glasses off, handing one to her as you continued, "however I would be fascinated to hear your thoughts on the way our classicist society prioritises and celebrates formal tertiary education" you let your gaze roam, holding your glass in both hands with the tips of your fingers, a dead giveaway of your nerves without you even realising, but for some reason she's still letting you talk, "and the idea of the pursuit of knowledge without that being a financially sustainable life choice anymore if you do it the wrong way. Why celebrate scientists when we just disregard modern philosophers?" You take a sip of your champagne and try and tell yourself to shut up, "I know the answer's 'because you can't profit off of philosophers as easily as you can scientists', but it just kind of sucks, don't you think?"

A long, uncomfortable silence follows.

"I swear at least Felix, Farleigh, and Venetia aren't freaks," you blurted out. Alyssa's shoulders relaxed just a little. At least you were self aware.

"Who?" Its... less hostile. You point out Felix and Farleigh headed out for a cigarette with a few others around your age, and Alyssa sighs, rolling her eyes. She's still clearly got Catton blood in her, her eyes and nose even remind you of Venetia. Still, she headed towards the side door; even her walk seemed to ooze contempt for the night.

Now, watching her, moonlight peaking down the stairs to catch the way she's beginning to glow with sweat, white-knuckled grip on the dark wood and her once perfectly straight, dark hair turning curly with moisture around her face and by her shoulders, you're actually a little glad to see it. At least she seemed to have found one person not entirely unbearable.

You knew all too well how overwhelming and isolating these events could be. As much as you felt you could relate, you couldn't really understand what she'd be going through, her first time at an event like this, feeling that there's people in the room who truly think you and your family outright don't belong. She should take her fun where she can get it, you think.

Shoving Venetia back to give the couple their privacy, you push her back into the parlour.

"Who is that?" Venetia demanded in a whisper, eyes bright. You sigh, shaking your head.

"Alyssa, she hasn't been to something like this before, just let her have her fun," after a beat, you step in a little closer, hands finding Venetia's hips as you attempted to distract her, "you know we could -"

"Alyssa who?" It hasn't worked. Venetia takes your hands, "this is important." There's something that goes beyond mischief in her eyes.

"Morelli," but she makes a face like that's not enough, "Aunt June's daughter." Venetia frowned.

"Aunt June's daughter married one of those Dubai millionaires five years ago and hasn't sent her a single pound or even a message since."

"That's your Great Aunt June- Juniper," you clarified without missing a beat, "she's not even related to any of you; your mum doesn't know who she was initially tied to in the family." Venetia takes a few moments to give you a look of faint, disbelieving awe. Clearing your throat, you looked back over your shoulder as the suggestive noises around the corner were growing louder, "Estranged Aunt June."

Venetia's eyes lit up with what could only be described as malevolent glee.

"So she's my cousin."

"Yes."

"Actually? Blood and all? Not just one of my uncles' weird friends who's been hanging around for decades so now we have to call them family?"

"I'm beginning to get afraid of your intentions, Ven," despite your wary smile, you weren't really joking. Venetia completely disregards this, however, holding your shoulders so tightly it begins to hurt.

"That girl," she points sharply, the kind of intensity in her eyes that absolutely means trouble, "just around the corner, moaning like a whore, getting fingered, tongued, whatever -" she wets her lips in some kind of anticipation, "is my actual, blood related cousin? And you're entirely sure of that?"

Taking a deep breath, unsure of what the repercussions of this all will be, you slowly nod.

"Yes..."

Venetia steps back, has to clap her hands over her mouth to muffle her positively gleeful laughter. For some unexpected reason, this piece of information seems to be some of the best news she's ever received in her life. It almost brings her to tears. After she calms down, you think you hear her mutter something along the lines of I'm never letting him live this down as she fans herself, attempting to calm herself.

"Ven, are you okay?" Still utterly confused about what any of this means, you can't help the concern you feel. Venetia's nodding, fighting back aftershocks of giggles, gazing often at the doorway.

"Yes, I- you're wonderful, thank you for helping me with that-" overcome by another, brief fit of giggles, it takes her a moment to compose herself, "I love you and your robot brain so very dearly -"

"Oh my god~" from around the corner, and another, louder shush. Venetia buries her face in her hands, echoing oh my god as she chokes on laughter once more. When she resurfaces, face bright red with amusement, you take her hand and try to insist that you should give them privacy.

"Yes, of course," Venetia agrees, suddenly trying to appear as serious as she's able, "I just have one other favour to ask you."

"What?" You ask flatly, unsurprisingly wary, watching her struggle not to grin.

"Could you tell my brother?"

The question hangs in the air for a long, confusing moment.

"Tell him what?"

"That Alyssa's our cousin."

"Sure...?" you frowned a little, peering over her shoulders, "I don't know where he is though, I haven't seen him in a while." Venetia smiles like the Cheshire Cat.

Oh... no... she isn't implying -? But Alyssa's timing is unfortunately perfect.

"Oh my god, Felix~"

Your mouth drops open in shock upon hearing that.

"Oh my God," you groaned, pained by the realisation as your face scrunched up with sudden understanding and disappointment, "Felix."

Venetia is absolutely right, he's never living this down.

"You had me prattling on for fucking ages about nothing, just letting them go at it all the while? You could have just asked!" You hissed, already mortified on his behalf.

"You're letting them go at it now!" She crowed quietly, and ah, fuck. Yeah, she had a point there.

Rounding the corner briskly, you cross your arms but at the very least keep your gaze to the floor.

"Felix -" you clear your throat.

"Oh, fuck off," Alyssa, seeing it's you, groans with frustration. There's movement beneath her dress when you glance up; there's something almost comical about knowing what you're seeing is Felix sitting up straighter under there.

"I know that's you, Y/N," Felix had enough dignity to not sound ashamed or caught out. But he should, "just, yeah mate, could you fuck off a bit?" Its not a particularly sharp request, and if this were any other situation, of course you'd obligingly fuck off. However...

"Well don't fucking stop," Alyssa hisses to him, sounding almost embarrassed by the fact that he was giving you the time of day right now, "seriously, fuck off!" She tries to whisper-shout, but halfway through her voice turns to an unsteady moan and her head falls back against the wall again, "OhmygodFelix~" she whines, bringing one of her legs up over his shoulder.

"So should I wait until after you get her off to tell you?"

"Tell him what you little pervert?" Alyssa, furious at your refusal to leave, demands.

"Hey, be nice to them," you hear, vaguely muffled from under her skirt. You have to snort a laugh.

"Thanks Fi, I'll just tell you now, uh," you can't look at them in this moment, fighting off your embarrassed smile at you look to the ceiling, "I don't think this is what your dad meant when he suggested you get to know Aunt June's kids; this might be too welcoming for your recently un-estranged cousin."

Around the corner you hear Venetia cackling like a banshee, clearly having been eavesdropping.

Felix scrambles back from under Alyssa's dress, looking an absolute mess.

"You what?"

"Oh my god." There's nothing lewd about it this time, Alyssa herself sounds absolutely fucking mortified.

----

The next morning, over breakfast, the mood is... strained. Its Sir James who breaks the ice, brightly - though it's clearly forced - commenting on how the night took such an unexpected and unfortunate turn. Felix, who likely doesn't even remember the end of the night considering how thoroughly plastered he got after his unfortunate affair with his cousin, looks to his father very suddenly, the sudden fear in his eyes about what his parents may know hidden by his large, dark glasses. He'd threatened to drown himself in the lake if you or Venetia told anyone, but his memory got fuzzy from there. The hangover that he's half worried might actually kill him doesn't help.

"Such a shame," Elspeth sighed, "I would have thought June would raise them better than that."

"Estranged Aunt June's daughter, Alyssa," you leaned over to Felix to stage whisper the context to him, half worried the paranoia might kill him there at the table. Venetia does however feel the need to smugly butt in and remind him -

"Our biological cousin."

"Apparently convinced her younger brothers to riot and start breaking all the crockery," you finished. Felix frowned in vague confusion, a feeling which Farleigh seemed to share.

"And it was so unnecessary, like she knew it was the first family thing her mom had been invited to in a decade -"

"She hates rich people and thinks we're freaks," you sat back, shrugging, "she told me so herself."

"Who, June?" Sir James sounded downright heartbroken at the idea, so you quickly shook your head.

"Alyssa." It seems to alleviate some of his concerns, but not a lot, and Sir James goes back to his breakfast still looking rather put out.

"Well maybe," Venetia leans her elbows on the table, bread knife in hand that she was using to flippantly gesture with, "there's some rich people that she should hate," her gaze and smug smile lands on you, as does the nonchalant way she's pointing with her knife, right before she flicks her wrist as if pointing at her brother by pure chance, "and some of us who are freaks."

Felix glared down at his breakfast.

"I don't know why we un-estranged Aunt June in the first place," he grumbled mostly to himself, though not quiet enough that the rest of the table didn't hear. Sir James sighed with disappointment.

"I think in future we may have to limit June's invitations to only her and her husband," he says, shaking his head. Elspeth kindly tells him that it's probably for the best.

Venetia, still apparently feeling petty, threw a bread roll at her brother, who hadn't looked up from where he seemed to be trying to divine life's secrets from his plate of sausages. It glances off his forehead, but knocks his glasses loose and into his breakfast. A second later Felix officially gives up and follows suit, faceplanting into his food.

"Oh my god, Felix!" His mother gasps with concern.

Despite Elspeth sounding nothing like Alyssa had the night before, the familiar phrase sets Venetia off, cackling with laughter at the top of her lungs. While the rest of the table is utterly confused by the series of events that have just occurred, you scoot your chair over close to Felix, patting him sympathetically on the back. Beneath the table, he rests his hand on your knee to give a grateful squeeze. When he talks, only you can hear it, resigned and half muffled by scrambled eggs.

"Hate this family."

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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whumblr · 5 days ago

Note

Hey!!! I know I just sent an ask the other day but I didn't what to forget to ask this

Can I have a drabble where jay has a panic attack because he hears some sort of sound that zayne makes (example the click of zayne's knife).

love your writing so much!!

Have a wonderful day and get good sleep❤️

Fidgety

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

Jay didn’t mind afternoon team meetings as much, really. It was a bit of a break in the day for him, half an hour to shut his mind off, sit back, and just listen. Maybe pipe up every now and then, or zone out and mull over the words for his upcoming articles, but mainly, just, listen.

Today however, he was distracted. Or rather, kept getting distracted.

Unfortunately, Peter had a habit of clicking his pen when he was paying attention. He had one of those blue pens with a button on the side that clicked the plunger back. And he was very much paying attention now.

Normally, it wouldn’t really bother Jay and he could shut it out. But, well, first, his nerves were shot, and very close in second, the click sounded like that of Zayne’s knife. A little shk with every click and he could practically see the blade flick out in his mind’s eye. He managed to reduce his flinches with every click, blinked his eyes, twitched his fingers, skipped a heartbeat, but on the inside, everything went haywire.

He forced himself to take deep breaths, keep in control, to stop the hyperventilation from kicking in. Forced himself to focus on who was speaking, on the actual words spoken – that didn’t mean they actually hit the mark; he listened intently but the panic rising scattered the words from their sentences like leaves in the wind.

Calm down. He was safe. He was here in the office. He was—

Shk

He was down on the floor, face pressed against the wood, a heavy weight on the small of his back pinning him down.

Shk

Something cold tickled over his back. Something sharp. Pressure slowly increased and the cold tipped into his skin, breaking it, a wet hot sensation bubbling up, fighting against the cold intruding as if trying to expel it. Then it repeated itself. And again. Hot lines carved into his skin with a cold instrument, by a cold tormentor. The weight draped over his shoulders. A chuckle in his ear. The call of his name, an added fake compliment how he was doing so well—

“Jay.” Dennis’ sharp voice broke through his haze and shocked him back into the meeting room. “Could you write the suggestions down for me?”

Dennis, leading the meeting, stood in front of the whiteboard and held out one of the markers. He had a concerned look in his eyes and beckoned him over.

Jay pulled himself from his own swamp of anxiety and gratefully stood. “Yeah. Sure.” He accepted the marker and Dennis held it a split second longer than necessary. His focus was still on his discussion with Terry, but his eyes briefly snapped to Jay searching his for some form of assurance before he let go and stepped forward, resuming his talk.

Jay fully turned towards the board to hide his face. He squeezed his eyes closed for a second, let out a long exhale, and uncapped the marker, facing the group again.

Shk

Something pressed against his stomach, something cold, sharp. A sharp gasp and he made a tiny jump backwards. But he quickly calmed down again when he realised it was only the magnetic tray for the eraser stuck to the whiteboard.

As one of the other team members was speaking, Dennis slowly walked over to Peter, tapped on the table to get his attention and gestured his fingers down. Peter got the message and put his pen away. A little something about Dennis Jay greatly admired. He himself would never do that, scared of being accused of making a fuss about nothing, inviting confrontation. But Dennis not only did it, he did it without even saying a word, without making the other feel bad.

And best of all: he did it for Jay.

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror

@susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime

@freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks

@whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion

@afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8

@withdrawingramen @lolrpop @nugget4427 @light-me-on-pyre @treasureguardingdragon

#whump #whump writing #aftermath of whump #caretaker #anxious whumpee #whump flashbacks #home is where the hurt is #hiwthi #hiwthi drabbles #my writing #me queueing this last night before bed after an atrocious night: may i get good sleep :))

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anticanonsposts · 10 months ago

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hiiiiii I loveddd ur post abt high konig, could you maybe write a fic where its the readers first time trying it?

(ur page is like so good i luv it)

hi!!! literally thank you so much, it truly means so much to me that people are enjoying my blog <3333

per request here is a version of a previous fic about König's first time trying an edible and then fucking you silly, now it's the readers turn!!

cw: obvi (legal) drug use, (don't do drugs unless they're legal, safe, and you are of age <3), sex p in v, oral m receiving, porn w/ a little plot, pining, overstimulation, nastiness <3

wc: 2,000+

nsfw below the cut, you know the drill-mdni interact

“Hey König…” you cooed to your boyfriend who was sitting at the desk in your room, flipping through a book while you lounged on the bed. He returns your gaze, brows slightly furrowed, he recognizes your playful tone, knowing you're about to ask him something naughty.

“I was thinking..” you continue standing up from the bed and making your way over to him, dancing your fingertips across his shoulders. “That I wanted to try having sex…after I take an edible gummy.”

“Edible? Aren’t all gummies edible?? Ohhhh, like marijuana!” he replies back briefly running in mental circles as he puts the pieces together. His English is obviously very good but sometimes he takes things more literally/more at face value. “Of course I’d need your consent now since you would be inebriated and if you ever want to stop you need to tell me.” he adds taking on a more serious tone, whenever consent was being discussed he had no room for lightheartedness or joking, he took consent VERY seriously.

“Yes, I am consenting now to have sex with you while you are sober and I am high, and both of us have the option to stop at any point.” you reply, taking his hands in yours.

“Ok.” is all he responds with but he’s smiling so wide and there is a bright gleam in his eyes. He truly loves to try new things with you, especially when it makes you so happy.

So you go and grab your packet of gummies and pop one into your mouth. Then you suggest a shower to König since it will take about 30 minutes for the edible to kick in. Showering together is always such a treat. You get to be in a nice warm, wet environment while your own personal giant just beams down at you with nothing but adoration and enamor in his eyes. He loved these showers just as equally, his hands never leaving your soft, supple body, constantly pulling you impossibly closer to him.

After you both got out and dried off, you opted to just stay naked and lay with each other until you initiated more physical contact. He laid down on his back and you were draped on your side, the side of your face resting on his chest, slowly rising and falling. You could tell he was already getting a little worked up, I mean come on you were laying on him completely naked. As more and more minutes passed you felt your brain get a little fuzzy and it sort of felt like everything was moving slower. You realize you are absentmindedly massaging his abdomen with one of your hands you start to feel a buzz in between your legs, only made worse when you look down and see König’s growing dick, now completely pressed against his stomach. His poor tip furiously leaking, he was being so kind and patient with you, waiting ever so tranquil for you to make the next move.

Now, completely feeling the effects of the edible kicking in your entire body buzzes with excitement. Moving yourself to sit up a bit more, you start tracing kisses along his neck and chest, slow and purposeful kisses. Your inebriated mind could still have cheeky thoughts. You figured, since he was going to be nothing but patient with you, you might as well tease him. Now climbing on top of him, his hands immediately go to your lower half, shamelessly groping your hips and butt. You loved how he was able to grab so much of you with just one of his hands. Giving you soft squishies and gropes and you start to move your hips back and forth, not even realizing what you were doing.

Then getting a wicked idea, you reposition yourself slightly so that your now puffy and dripping core is gliding up and down his dick. Earning several whimpers from him, his grip on you tightened. Giving him a small chuckle you give him one last sloppy kiss, sloppy enough that when you pull away there is a line of spit connecting your mouths. Shimmying down between his legs with the biggest shit eating grin you have ever given him. You take his length into your hand and start to pump his base gently. Then before he could give any objection that you didn’t have to give him head since you were high or that he could go down on you first if you’d prefer. But you successfully cut him off by leaving open mouthed kisses all along his shaft, purposefully avoiding his ever leaking tip. Giggling to yourself you finally take his head in your mouth, first giving a little swirl of your tongue before bobbing up and down only on his tip while pumping the rest of him.

His cute face completely flushed, eyebrows furrowed, and panting as he looked down at you. Murmurs of praise leaving his lips, as one of his hands gently came to rest on your head. The sight in front of you just made you giggle more which made him feel more vibrations on his dick. Releasing him from your mouth with a wet pop, still palming his tip you ask, “Does that feel good baby?” in a sing-song voice as you trace kisses up his thigh.

“Oh my god Hase.” is all he can say back. He knows you’re teasing him, he knows exactly what you’re doing, but he cannot will himself to move you faster, its torture, but its blissful torture. You then continued your bobbing, each time taking more and more of him in your mouth and pumping what you couldn't reach with your hand. Snaking your other down, you start to gently massage his balls, and the combination of all these movements causes him to buck his hips into you, which only motivates you. You continue your motions until you hear his breathing get faster and his voice and whimpers grow higher and higher. Then when he warns you that he is about to cum, you speed up even faster, making him absolutely lose his mind. Tasting his cum sputter onto your tongue, you carefully swallow around him, knowing that it drives him insane. But you don’t stop there.

You pop him out of your mouth and quickly wrap both of your hands around his shaft, pumping him almost aggressively at this point. You also make sure to prop your elbows against his thighs so that he cannot close his legs.

“Liebe liebe liebe liebe!!!! Please…oh my go—-” is all he manages to get out as his body starts to thrash a bit from side to side, completely overwhelmed with all the stimulation you were giving him.

“Liebling I came I came please!” he mustered out again, pleading with you, his eyes full of desperation. It hurt so good but it also felt so good. Right now you were nothing but an evil little minx trying to break him down to his very core of desperation.

Finally, mercifully you stop pumping him, but torture him a little more by licking his dick clean, then tonguing your way up his chest, leaving open mouthed kisses all along his abdomen.

At this point you were beyond giddy with yourself, very proud of what you’ve been able to do so far, but now of course your core was aching for any sort of stimulation.

Losing a little bit of his gentle touch, König practically hauls your body up so that you are once again straddling him. His greedy lips pull you in with his mouth and he presses a firm hand to the middle of your back so that your torsos are pressed together. Giving him a mischievous look he quickly says, “No no no, how about you ride my fingers instead first hmmm?” He knew that his dick needed a break and that if he was able to redirect your attention to something else, you would soon get lost in it. Not to mention the fact that he really preferred not to be inside of you so quickly, without giving you a proper warm up.

Giving him a contented humm he repositions himself so that he is sitting up more. Then, gently he takes two of his fingers and glides them through your folds toying with your clit ever so slightly, using his other hand to hold your hip in place. Finally when he pushed his digits up into you, making you gasp, you just felt so good, too good. Leaning forward, you pressed your chest against his and started to kiss him, moaning into his mouth. Soon you found a rhythm together, you bouncing and grinding into his hand, his other hand guiding you, and your mouths just devouring each other.

He curls his hands so perfectly so that he hits your g-spot while his palm brushes against your clit over and over again. Feeling yourself get more desperate you pull away from him with a pleading look in your eyes.

“Do you wanna lay down?” he asks softly, smiling. You do as suggested and lay down on your back, spreading your legs as he kneels in front of you.

“Please fuck me” you say through half lidded eyes. He could do nothing but rake his eyes up and down your body. You were so perfect and kind to him and he truly liked this experience. Your high state made you more focused on your needs and pleasure. You allowed yourself to feel and react more naturally, and he is loving it.

Leaning forward he cages you in under his arms, bracing them on either side of you and envelopes your mouth in hungry kisses. After a little whining he finally kisses down your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance. You let out a gasp as his tip enters you and he slowly eases his entire length into you.

“Oh my god…fuck König, it feels so good, I feel so full” you murmur to him, faces inches away from each other. In return, he starts to give you slow, dragging thrusts.

“Would you like me to go faster y/n?” he asks as he uses his fingertips to turn your chin toward him so that you are looking him in the eyes.

“Yes, yes faster please” you reply nodding up at him not breaking the eye contact which just about finished him off right there. But he took a deep breath and sped up his pace, snaking one hand between the two of you to rub circles around your clit.

After several minutes you cling to his neck and shoulders, letting out a slew of whimpers and moans.

“Please, please…I’m s’close…please” is all you are able to get out before he gives you a grin and angles his hips so he is hitting even deeper inside of you.

This is what does it for you. Wide eyed, brow furrowed, with your mouth agape you let out the prettiest, hottest moans he thinks he’s ever heard. “Cum around me shatz, please, let me feel you. I’ve got you, I’ve got you just let go.” is all he has to mutter for you to let go.

“Oh fuck, König! I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming. AA-OOhh my god!” you choke out as he continues his pace and fucks you through your orgasm, now chasing his own high. But for some reason, your orgasm wasn’t stopping, it just kept going, for longer than it normally does. In your drunken state you were still able to connect this to the edible you took.

“Oh my god shatz, fuck! I’m going to cum darling, where do you want me?” König gasped out, clearly losing any resolve he has left.

“In me! In me please, I wanna feel you, please cum in me baby please.” you respond although still stuck in the seemingly never ending orgasm you smile through your words. Your smile and half lidded look into his eyes is the last nail in the coffin for him and with a sputter of his thrusts he explodes inside of you, groaning into your ear in the ways that you love so much.

Then, finally you feel your orgasm start to dwindle down as he slows down his movements, before completely pulling out of you and bringing you to lay on your side next to him.

“I love you.” is all you are able to whisper to him as he pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms completely around you, legs tangled together, your hands coming up to cradle his face.

“I love you more.” he replies, pressing his lips to yours once more.

Needless to say your first time having sex while high was a success, and the two of you will be doing it much more often.

hehe tysm for reading, if you like this don't be shy hehe, check out my other content. also reminder that I am taking requests idc how niche they are, please feel free to ask if there's anything you'd like to see!

#könig smut #könig #könig x reader #könig cod #konig smut #konig x reader #call of duty smut #call of duty modern warfare #cod smut #cod mw2 #konig mw2 #konig cod #könig blurb #könig imagine #könig x you #konig blurb #konig imagine #konig headcanons

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baalzebufo · 4 months ago

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HIII. can i just say. absolutely ADORE your gravity falls stuff!! i'd love to hear more of your headcanons (especially abt gideon) (that's my SON)

yes yeeees i was part of the Original Wave of Gideon Enjoyers back when like, episode 4 aired and it was about ten blogs who didnt hate his guts. i mean, i still want to throw him out a window, but I also think he has really interesting character stuff going on that some people just didnt wanna look at bc they hated him! which like, fair, he's a villain, but that freaky little dude will always be one of MY faves, haha

this post got. very long im sorry I had to put a readmore here haha but I haven't had an excuse to infodump about this for ages so here's a couple Things I like Thinking About... also a doodle I did the other night to break up the wall of text below

ok ok to start i LOVE him so much as a foil to dipper (and to an extent ford too) as examples of what the journals/that kind of power and information can do to people. its why im so adamant that he does actually have albinism, even if its not Technically Canon. dipper and ford both have a like, 'physical oddity' about them (birthmark, sixth finger) i think it makes sense for gideons to be his albinism as something that set him apart. all three are 'weirdos', were ostracised to an extent by the world, had that longing for something special or important, and then found it. and its what they DO with that which sets them apart

especially as a foil to dipper like... from time to time in the show, he gets a bit gung-ho about abusing the journals power for his own gain. but he has friends and family to reign him back in. he has more of a moral compass about not wanting to hurt people, generally. dipper never became like gideon did

this is getting into headcanon territory here but, my general summary of gideons childhood is an isolated one. only child, fairly sheltered, had some medical complications early in life which led to a lot of time on his own in hospital, attended school briefly and was subjected to significant bullying. and without a real support network outside of his parents who were very doting to the point of spoiling him because hes their Little Miracle he wasnt exactly well-adjusted even as a kid

but basically, that kid ends up finding this journal and learns about spells and evil artifacts and suddenly he has the power to make people like him. not only that but Fear him. he goes from feeling powerless to an absolute ego-trip. and his only close relatives would never tell their little boy 'no' about something, so they're not disciplining him in any way. its a perfect storm for a disaster to happen

it stems from this childish desire to go 'look at me im important and special and everyone likes me' and hes become so embittered already by people being dicks that he doesnt care if he hurts people on the way

that only really changes when mabel shows up and is the first person in town to approach him from a like... normal level. shes nice to him but not in the overly-saccharine and doting way his fans are, just in the way a girl who wants to be friends is. she treats him normally and is nice and he thinks she's pretty and that ALSO becomes a perfect storm of 'well shes nice to me and i like her so i must be in love with her and she is with me!' and, of course. kid who has never heard the word No before. so the later rejection becomes a HUGE sticking point and grudge to the point of being flat-out murderous

later in life with a little Introspection i think he'd realize it was less love and more just. basically imprinting on the first person to be normal and kind at him in years

UM. I should wrap this up i have so much in my brain. gideon was one of my earliest roleplay muses i'd write and draw with my pals, so I subjected him to a LOT of personal characterization stuff and also making a thousand AUs for fun. (aus always come in two flavours either its 'im going to make you marginally more well-adjusted' or 'im going to make you so, SO much worse')

ive got a soft spot for con-men and fake psychics and generally shitty little weasels and gideon just stormed into the show being a jerk with an aesthetic i adore and i was like ahhh. i want to punt him. hes my favourite.

ok im going to shut up now. last minute headcanon. gideon got into wood carving in prison art therapy because using a knife to stab something in a non-murder way helps soothe his urges. he whittles little people figurines

✨

#THANKS one day i'll write up my gideon backstory properly. so I have it in a formal location but now is not that day #so you get sparknotes version of my characterization thoughts #should i put this in the tag? um. yeah ok sure.#gideon gleeful #alloyart #also in my art tag for the doodle #i realize most of this was observations rather than like specific headcanons but shh whatever

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all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 8 months ago

Text

Baby It's You (Teen!John Lennon x Teen!Female!Reader)

A/N: Hello! Yes, I'm alive, and yes, I know I haven't posted anything original on this blog in over 3 years, but that's gonna change!

Thank you all for sticking around so long, my life did a 180 about a month or so ago and now I can get back to one of the things I love doing most: giving you all some juicy fanfiction to enjoy!

I've had an influx of enthusiastic followers and readers on my last oneshot ask for more writing, and I will be delivering! I have upcoming Paul and George oneshots underway; but first, I think it's time we show John a little love!

P.S. we'll probably consider this an AU fic since John went to private school, and he is going to school with the reader in this one. Sorry for the lack of authenticity in advance!

Summary: Your friend, John, invites you to the first Fair of the year with the intentions of evolving some spontaneous behaviour within you. You find just the thing there to prove to John just how daring and fun you could be-- and then things go sideways.

WARNINGS: This has been sitting in my notes FOREVER so I wouldn't be surprised if there were typos.

Also, there is a heteronormative behaviour in this fic because of the time it was set in, but I want to disclaim that LOVE IS LOVE and I, in no way, support heteronormative/ anti LGBTQ+ behaviour. Love who you want to love; just be happy doing so<3

Also Also, she is a LONG one like the other oneshot, so I advise you read this when you've got some time on your hands!

Swearing is almost a certainty at this point, but no really mature themes, so a T rating is probably enough for this one.

It was a hot Friday afternoon, at the very end of the school year; and there were hundreds of telltale signs:

The teacher was well over his curriculum and he sat at his desk reading a book in silence, student-made work was no longer strewn about on the walls, the classroom was humid even with everyone fanning themselves and each other; and the students...

You could tell the students were just dying to get home for the summer.

There were five minutes left on the clock, and you sat at your desk packing your things away. You spent the last hour doodling, but you wanted to be ready to take off as soon as the bell sounded.

As you zipped your bag up, you saw a little flash of white in your peripheral, and when you glanced back at the surface of your desk, you noticed a folded piece of paper-- a note!

You looked around briefly, but no one indicated to you where to pass it, so it had to have been for you.

And if the note was for you, then there was only one person it could have been from.

You unraveled the little piece of paper, revealing the question the paper possessed.

"Fair? Tonight? -yours truly"

That evening in particular, the local fair was going to erect itself in the biggest park in town, and everyone at school was going to be there. What better way to blow off steam at the end of a long year of hard work?

You shook your head at his pathetic complimentary close, your eyes rolling to the back of your head so far they almost didn't come back.

The bell rang, and before you could even consider doing anything else with the note, everyone took off out the door, as did you, knowing fully well "yours truly" was going to be waiting for you at your locker.

As you rounded the corner to the hallway your locker was in, you finally caught glimpse of him. He was leaning against it with his arms crossed, one leg over the other as his eyes wandered the other students for your face; and when your eyes locked, his expressionless mouth couldn't help but tighten upwards.

Perhaps his smile was out of kindness, but it was most likely because he was a jokester, and quite frankly couldn't get enough of teasing you.

And now his target was spotted.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you spoke first. "You know how much I hate how you sign these off, right?"

You presented the note in hand adjacent to your head as your face displayed a disapproving cringe, cheeks pink in mild humiliation.

"John, I only ever get notes written from you, so the flowery signoff is unnecessary," you put the note down, pointing at him with a frown.

"That note-passing was so open! You know if the teacher ever caught something like that, he'd make me read it out loud to the class, surely you know I'd die on the spot, and then my ghost will haunt you until you died too!"

His smile only grew wider at your words, almost as if he'd been betting with himself what your response to all of this was going to be.

"Also, you're not even in my last class," you rambled on, "so how you managed to have it smuggled in beats me."

"Oh, come on, y/n, you know you'd love all the attention you'd get out of something like that," he gestured to the paper, and you shook your head before crumpling it into a ball in your hand and tossing it at his head, to which it bounced off, and then was immediately trampled on as other students hurried down the hallway.

The both of you weren't strangers; you frequented playdates with John as children, and then you went to school together, so you basically watched each other grow up. John, for as long as you'd known him, usually displayed confident and sometimes mischievous behaviour towards others that typically you'd find unappealing for a man to display.

"People thinking I'm with you? That is not the kind of attention I'm after."

Not that you ever found John appealing, in any way. He was your buddy; you tolerated his behaviour. That being said, over the years he started lightening up on the harsher jokes with you, opting for more of a platonic flirt more than anything else, finding it was a less harmless way to poke fun at you.

"And the Fair, John? Really?"

The boy shrugged his hands up to defend his suggestion. "What's so bad about the Fair?!"

You rolled your combination into your locker, and he shifted out of the way so you could get into it better once you got it unlocked.

"Nothing's wrong with going to the Fair. Going to the Fair with you on the other hand..." you tisked at him before reaching into your locker to retrieve what binders and books you had left in there. John never used his locker, so he was just waiting on you.

You tossed your bag up over your shoulder once you shoved your books inside, and before John could interject with an if, and, or but, you put your hand up to silence him.

"You left me lost in that fun house--"

"But that was literally ten ago, y/n!"

"Doesn't mean I'm over it!"

You took the lead towards the exit doors, and John followed suit, searching for the right words to convince you to go with him.

"If you go with me tonight, I'll try to win you a stuffed animal,"

"We're doing bribery now, are we?" You smirked, reaching out for the doors and pushing through until both you and John were outside, standing under the sun. It was nice for once for the sun to have been out from behind the clouds.

"Look, you're just always hanging out with your girlies, and I've got my mates, but they're all going to the fair with other people tonight," John started as you both headed to the sidewalk and began to make your way to your place.

"We never really do spontaneous things anymore, just you and I. And, I don't know, growing up a little might have had something to do with it... but it doesn't mean I'm not still your friend, though. I wanna do things with you."

You took John's words into consideration. One thing you really liked about John was that he was passionate, and poetic. You'd seen this reflected in some of his writing before, and he often discussed with you how much he liked music, and how he dreamed that his poems could very well one day soon become songs...

Now, it's not like he spoke the way he wrote, but his thoughts translated to words so quickly and effortlessly, and he, as a speaker, really made you think twice about what he said because he sounded so sure when he spoke.

"... I suppose we have been distant in terms of having fun. I know I won't be able to win an argument with you that studying every other night together is considered 'fun', even though I think otherwise."

You and John both rounded left down the next street, which happened to be where you lived; the benefits of living a block away from school. Your house was coming up, meaning this conversation had to end soon.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous. Just say yes and come with me tonight."

At this point, you and John had slowed to a stop and were standing at the end of the driveway, facing one another as you pondered whether tonight was going to be spent inside reading and listening to music, or stimulated by exciting noises and lights while you stuffed your face with Carnival delicacies and treats.

"... If I say yes, will I still get my stuffed animal?" You already knew the response as the smile returned to John's face.

You and John made it to the Fair for 6:30, and it was already full of life; children on the rides screaming their heads off, friends competing in mini games like Ring Toss and Balloon Darts, and the smell of popcorn and candy floss swirled through the air.

As you looked around at all of the rides available, you barely noticed John going out of his way to buy tickets for both you and him for the night. When he returned to you, he tried to see if you were looking at a particular ride. "Anything catching your eye?"

"I feel like they have different stuff this year. Like, that one must be new," you pointed to a group a different rides that you'd never seen before. "Let's look around, and if anything looks interesting enough, I say we go for it."

John bought you enough tickets for you both to ride everything anyways, but you two had all night, and nowhere to be the next day, so you agreed to start at one end of the fair, and work your way through it.

The first ride that caught the attention of either one of yous were the Tea Cups.

"Remember the one time I threw up on you on that ride?" You asked John with a little smile, to which he replied without a beat,

"And then I threw up on you and caused a chain reaction with all of the other kids on the ride?"

You both laughed and cringed at the rather unpleasant memory before John kindly took your elbow and pulled you towards the ride gently, knowing full well that your matured stomachs would be able to handle it now, and your moving feet indicated you weren't objecting the idea of getting on.

"We gotta start the fun somewhere, Love. After you," John presented four tickets to the ride operator, and you chose your favourite colour cup to climb into.

"If you just don't spin the cup, we'll make it out of here safe," you warned John with a joking wagging finger, and he saluted to you respectfully as he closed the hatch to the cup and took a seat next to you.

"Don't worry, we won't meet the same fate as last," he grabbed the wheel at the centre of the cup as if to indicate he was going to steady it the whole time, and you were excited to see how well he'd do; and even more excited to make fun of him when he did a bad job.

The ride shot to life, and as the cups began dancing around in different patterns, you watched in amusement as John tried his very hardest to keep the cup from spinning; his attention sometimes turning to you, and he watched as your hair whipped around your smiling face as the ride threw the both of you around.

Your beating heart was building up adrenaline as the ride spun on. You suddenly threw your hands overtop of John's, and his eyes shot up to you, hands going slack on the wheel, and you took that moment to whip the cup around as hard as you could, the world becoming a blur around you, and your energy within escaping in a bound of squeals and giggles.

John couldn't help but join in, your laughter was contagious, and the excitement he felt seeing you having fun made his heart ache a little, but in a good way.

The ride was over much sooner than the either of you would have liked, the both of you combing your fingers through your hair to appear more presentable as your tea cup came to a complete stop. John opened the door for you, and you both continued on on wobbly legs to see what else the Fair had to offer.

After a few carnival games and slow, paced rides, you finally grab John by the wrist after he suggests doing something you'd rather do later so he didn't take off too far.

"I think we should do the Ferris Wheel, John," You dropped his wrist and pointed to the ride in the distance behind him, his eyes following your gaze to it.

"Come along, then," it was now his turn to grab your wrist, and lead you along.

That was one unspoken rule you had with John: he never held your hand. You weren't sure why, and you didn't really care-- you didn't want to hold his hand. You just always settled on the idea John was really committed to the joke about not wanting to get Cooties; and honestly, you respected his devotion to the joke.

Your wait in line to ride the Ferris Wheel was a short one, and your chest filled with excitement yet again as you and John took your seats and the ride operator strapped you in.

As the ride filled with other people, you and John slowly made your way to the very top of the ride, allowing yourselves to take in the view of the Fair that seemed to stretch forever.

"We really should have done this first so we could have seen everything all at once," you said, peering down at some of the unrecognizable stands and rides surrounding you both. One in particular caught your eye, and it was in the shape of a space ship from those cartoons depicting the future.

"We definitely have to check that one out," you pointed to it, and John nodded his head in agreement.

"It seems to be right by the games and food. We'll grab some candy while we're in the area."

"And...?"

"And I'll win you that prize, yeah yeah yeah, I know what I promised."

The Ferris Wheel then took off, and you and John savoured the ride, watching the sun slowly fall towards the horizon, the most beautiful colours painted across the sky.

"I'm glad you convince me to come with you, Johnny. I'm having loads of fun. Thank you," you didn't shout, just loud enough that John could hear, and he smiled at you.

"Like I said, if anyone needs to be more spontaneous, it's you. If I can fix that in any way, I'll take the chance," you smiled back at his words, turning your full attention back to the sky as the ride began to slow, knowing this moment, like everything else, was going to come to an end.

You and John were on a mission to get over to the space ship, passing by a bunch of other rides and games you pointed to and indicated aloud along the way that they were on your To-Do list that evening.

As you approached what you two initially thought was a ride, you discovered that the rocket was actually just a still building. There were two lines entering the ship, and there were a few people in each line.

One of the Fair Staff was walking by, and John stopped him before he went too far. "Hey, what's this one all about?"

"Cosmic Hearts is a matchmaking activity we just added! You're matched with someone of your preference in the other line anonymously, and you both enter the rocket. You spend two minutes in the dark together, and then you leave together when the doors open, revealing who you've matched with. You can also think of it as a two-way Kissing Booth."

The staff member looked at the both of you before adding on slowly, "established couples usually don't use that one..."

"Oh, you must be mistaken, we're not--" John couldn't even correct the guy before he was walking away again. You looked from John, back to the metal space ship. The guys standing in line weren't bad looking at all.

"... I wouldn't mind spending two minutes in the dark with any of them," you thought aloud, noticing that each person in line had at least one unique physical attractive quality.

"Yeah, well I'd be worried they'd be touchy with you. In the dark and all," John huffed, shaking his head at the picture he painted himself, and you bursted out laughing.

"What, so you're my chaperone now? Going in there is knowing full well you're going to have hands all over you. Maybe I want to be squeezed up a little, Johnny, is there any harm in that?"

"I mean," John's face flushed a rosy pink before shutting his eyes and shaking his head again, as if that was going to stop his imagination from doing what an imagination does.

"That's.. not something I want to picture."

"Well look, you don't have to anymore," you took John's arm and pulled him towards one of the game stalls close by. "But you do have to try to win me that stuffed bear. We all know that's what I came for in the first place."

The distraction you set up was a good one. The game you brought John to was pretty much just Balloon Darts but forest- themed. You watched as John tried his very best to aim his darts, but he just couldn't quite seem to make the mark for that bear.

The fifth round came and went, and John was still slapping more tickets down. You knew it didn't help that John was legally blind and flat-out refused to wear his glasses, but you weren't about to start an argument with him over that.

After John used up the rest of his darts from that round, he looked over at you with frustration and he sighed. "Look, I might just need a quick break," John took the tickets from inside his pocket, and placed them in your hand.

"I'm running to the loo, it's just on the other side of the park, just hang out here, play a round... or four... and see if you're a better shot than me,"

"I'm always a better shot than you, Lenny," you called to him as he disappeared in the crowd, waving back to you as if to acknowledge your cocky response.

You went to turn back to the game, but something stopped you. You took a quick glance over your shoulder, and eyed the lineup at the rocket ship. You couldn't believe how good looking the people in the lineup were, you could only imagine what the mystery people in the second line looked like.

And then John's words from earlier became apparent in your head, statement ringing in your ears.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous."

You furrowed your brow as you thought about this decision you were about to make. The closest lineup to you wasn't long at all, and before you knew it, your feet were pretty much walking themselves up to the line.

There was a girl about your age doing the matching for your line, and she met your gaze after letting the next person in. She grinned, and approached you.

"Hello! Welcome to Cosmic Hearts, do you know how we work?"

"Sort of... I just don't know how the matches are made."

"Oh, it's no worries, we do that all for you! We only really take the girl's request for preference types, and then we match accordingly from the other line. Is there something in particular you want about your match? Looks? Behaviour?"

You raised an interested eyebrow, skeptical about how accurate your preferences would be in terms of the match.

That being said, it was just an elaborate kissing booth, it's not like you were using the stall to find the love of your life-- no, you were looking to prove to John that you could be daring, that you weren't as boring as he maybe thought.

"Look, girl-to-girl here, I trust your judgement in choosing me a good-looking guy..." your voice tapered off for a moment before you added, " I just might want someone who doesn't seem too overconfident."

The Match Girl smiled wide, and gestured toward the door to the spaceship with her hand, pushing it open to let you in. You were the next girl in line, and the boys in the lineup watched as you took a deep breath and moved in.

As you walked toward the threshold of the dark room, Match Girl filled you in on the instructions.

"The other side of the curtain will be your 'contact area', only walk through when you hear the other door close; that'll mean he's inside as well. You'll have two minutes alone together, at which point we will open the central door and let you both out"

Your heart began to quicken. It didn't really occur to you until now that you were about to make out with a complete stranger in the dark, and leave that spaceship hand-in-hand just to prove to John wrong about you lacking in as much fun as he thought.

But this impulsive plan of yours also excited you a lot.

Maybe by the end of the night, you'd be leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You took your final step into the rocket, and your heart pounded against your ribcage as it all went dark.

After about thirty seconds of silence, you heard some shuffling from the other side of the curtain, and then a simple, "your two minutes start now," from the staff.

Your heart was beating so loud, you could hear the blood flowing in your ears. Your remaining senses enhanced, provided your lack of vision, and you followed the wall to the right with your hand, past the curtain, and you could feel an immediate change in temperature in the room.

You were much warmer now, hyper-aware of the fact that you were sharing body-heat with whoever the staff matched you with. You had to relay it in your head a few times what this actually meant for you. It meant that the stranger in this room with you was going to get to know you quite intimately in a pretty short amount of time.

This made you think a moment or two about the other party in this situation: The Stranger. What was his story? Was he dared to jump in line by his buddies to get some action? Maybe his story is that he just wanted to have his first kiss to get it just done and over with, or maybe he, like yourself, was just doing it for the Hell of it.

Whatever the reason, you felt you owed it to them to give them a decent snogging.

Your hand continued to drift along the wall before your thumb bumped into another hand. You gasped quietly, knowing you were close to the stranger, just not exactly sure of where abouts until now.

You lifted your hand off the wall at the same time as him, and as to not lose you, he made sure to reach out and take your hand in his gently, seeming more like an offer than a demand, which you took, admittedly rather nervously, especially when his other hand reached out to grab the other hand at your side.

Something was just so thrilling picturing so many renditions of handsome young men in your head, mixing and matching what he looked like based on what you could feel. His hands were larger than yours, and his fingers were calloused.

He played guitar, or bass, or something, and you knew this because John played, and you remember him telling you once that the strings were really hard on the hands, and you could just tell by looking at his hands that he wasn't joking.

You just thought the feeling was such a contrast against your own hands, which were soft and untouched, and you were sure with the way this guy was running his thumbs over your palms, and the pads of your fingers, he was admiring the contrast as well.

You almost wanted to say something to him about it, but he had you stuck in a trance, especially when he let your hands go for a moment to gently feel up your arms for your shoulders. You tried your best not to be too reactive, but you couldn't help the goosebumps trailing after his touch.

His hands moved up, and you felt his fingertips graze the crooks of your neck and then up under your jaw.

Neither of you spoke, this moment too intimate for the silence to break. You and he breathed so shallow, it was hard to even believe there was someone in the room with you.

But there was, and his fingers traced your jawline slowly, one hand deviating up to cradle the back of your head while the other gently traced around your chin.

Your lips parted, your own hands reaching out for his waist so you had some idea of where he was in front of you. Your fingers found his jacket, and as you tightened your hands around the leather, you felt him move a little closer as his thumb finally found its way to your bottom lip.

You felt his breath on your face, and you held your own, squeezing your eyes shut when you realized they had been wide open the whole time.

And finally, after what seemed like too long, his thumb disappeared and he replaced it with his own lips.

The kiss was soft, and not pushy at all, but you were tense like a rock under his touch from how nervous you actually were, and you just kept still.

He pulled away for a moment, and you could feel your face burning. That was not the kind of note you were going to leave on. Whoever this was, he had clearly gotten your attention, and you needed to return the favour.

Your one hand moved up his chest, over his collarbone and around his neck to pull him back down towards you. Your lips came together again, and you felt him melt into your embrace after an unsure second, hands dropping down to snake around your waist and pull you flush against him.

You sighed against his mouth, and he pushed his tongue past your lips, all of your past worries melting away. You were in heaven, so drunk on intimacy that you forgot what you were even doing in there in the first place. You tried pulling him even closer by the jacket, to which he responded by slowly backing you against the wall, one of his hands dropping to your hip, and the other returning to the back of your head like before.

Your hand behind his neck slipped up into his hair, and he moaned gently when you tightened your fingers up in the strands and pulled a little.

"Yes, Baby..." the words tumbled from his mouth lowly, and you felt a chill shoot right up your spine; you immediately froze up, lips separating as the realization hit you. You felt like you were going to faint.

"John?!" Your question was short, but clear, and you felt your suspicions were all too correct when you felt all of his muscles tense up as well at the sound of your voice.

"...Y/n?!" His voice cracked, body frozen in place like a statue. As were you, grip still tight in his hair and on his jacket.

You were speechless-- you couldn't believe the one you just spent the last minute and a half or so with-- the one with whom you spent the most intimate experience in your entire life-- was John.

The gentle touching, the embracing of the heavy silence, the patient behaviour, the soft kissing, the respect of your boundaries, and the feeling of wanting more-- it was all John.

This was the first time in your life you had ever experienced John in a situation where he didn't have the words he needed to speak at his disposal.

But to be fair, neither did you. What would anyone do in a situation like this?

It became all the more real for the both of you a moment later when the doors opened up, the lights around the rocket ship lighting John's face for you to see, and your face for him. You both sported embarrassing shades of red on your cheeks, and John's mouth just hung open in perpetual shock as he took in the fact that it was you.

After a second, you both came back down to earth, and your hands came zipping off each other so fast, John scratching his head nervously and giving you space from the wall, and you folding your arms over your chest and gripping your biceps tightly with your fingers.

You couldn't even look John in the eye, nor could he with you, let alone speak. You walked out the door, John at your side. The Match Girl waited by the bottom of the ramp, grinning ear-to-ear. If only she'd known.

"Pretty good-looking, huh?" She nudged to you with a wink, and you could feel your face grow hotter as you glanced over to John. You made brief eye-contact, and you cast your eyes straight to the ground when it happened.

You were thinking things about John you never would have before had it not been for that stupid snog box.

"Yes," was all you could say, nodding for the most part and squeaking out a soft thank you to her before you turned on your heel, and beelined straight for the women's room, rushing out to John that you were running to the loo without looking back at him.

You were too focused on finding some cold water to splash in your face, and a quiet space to figure out what to do in this situation; the lights and sounds had your head just spinning, and it was too difficult to concentrate.

The women's room was quiet enough, and when you felt you'd splashed enough water in your face, you went and sat in one of the stalls for a while to break down the situation that just happened, and what you were going to do to fix it.

John was your friend. There was no way you were going to let something like this drive a wedge between you, especially if you just had to explain yourselves. You had your reasons going in there, as did he.

You were just hoping this could be something you could both look back on in the future and laugh.

You took a few sobering deep breaths before leaving the women's room. You rounded the corner, not quite sure where to begin looking for John, but you found you didn't have to go far when a rather familiar set of fingers took hold of your own as soon as you stopped.

You glanced over your shoulder and there he was. He'd been waiting for you the whole time.

And now he was holding your hand.

That's new.

"... Can we talk?" you spoke simultaneously, and you both smiled a little. John still couldn't seem to hold your gaze for too long without needing to tear his eyes away and resort to looking at his shoes, yet he still held a firm grip on your hand.

You'd never seen him like this before. It was sobering to see him without so much confidence.

"Where did you wanna talk? Nowhere's really private here."

"... Did you just wanna get outta here?" As soon as the words left his mouth, your shoulders lowered in relief. You both definitely had enough excitement for the night, and when you nodded your head sheepishly, John gave your hand a little squeeze, gestured you to come with him with his head, and you both headed for the Fair exit.

Your stroll down the town streets were quiet. Nothing was said between you two for the first little while, your strides were slow, your destination was unknown, and your hands were still clasped together. You took in the night air, for the sun had dropped below the horizon while you were in the spaceship, and the temperatures were lower.

You weren't too sure yet how John felt about all of that night's events so far, and what he thought of you. Clearly, based on the fact that his hand was still in yours, some opinion of his had changed.

Was he comfortable holding your hand now knowing it was you who shared such an intimate moment with him? Or was he maybe wanting to break off this friendship with you all because of tonight, and hand-holding was the only way he could think to comfort you?

At one point, John's fingers unraveled from yours, and you both slowed to a stop. He shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders before you pushed your arms up into the sleeves. John tried looking you in the eye again, and he swallowed nervously, face going red yet again.

"John, we need to talk about what happened."

"I know."

You took his hand this time, and guided him to the curb, sitting down together. Your fingers left his, and you both planted your hands at the curb at your sides.

There was silence for a moment as the memories of what happened back at the Fair resurfaced in your minds, what you were both feeling for each other, physically and emotionally, in your literal moments of blissful ignorance...

"Okay. I'm just going to put this out there right now. John, I had absolutely no idea that they matched me with you, or that you were even in line, for that matter." You sighed before continuing on, feeling the creep of warmth washing over your face yet again.

"I jumped in line impulsively when you left because I figured if you came back and you saw me leaving the rocket with a guy, I could prove to you tonight that I can be just as spontaneous and daring and fun as you."

You could see the gears turning in John's head when you finished saying your part, and after a second of putting the pieces together, his eyes widened, and then this wide smile spread right across his face, and, to your utter relief, he started laughing.

And it sounded so different compared to all of the other times he laughed around you. You couldn't quite place exactly what was different this time, but you found it to be more melodic than usual; more genuine. It was like music to your ears.

"I uh, I jumped in line for kind of the same reason." You raised a confused eyebrow, so John elaborated a little more, smile faltering a little as he cleared things up.

"Let me explain; If you saw me leaving the rocket with a girl, I was hoping I could convince you to do something tonight a little out of your comfort zone, like I did with that."

There was your Pièce De Résistance: John's reason for being in there all along was to teach you to live a little. And you were simply in there to live.

"Not that I wanted to see you specifically go through with the spaceship and getting felt up the wrong way, per se, but I just..."

John's words trailed off, and you could tell he was struggling to find words again. So, he decided to take this conversation in another direction.

"Okay, look, y/n, I don't want you to be under the impression that I think you're no fun. It's just not true. I adore you. There's just something about seeing you at the peak of excitement that makes me feel warm inside, like a child. I see this in moments you doubt yourself, but you still take that chance and you come out successful in the end, shining with confidence. I wanted to see you tonight with that same glow. And I would have if I hadn't have made fun in the first place that you were such a bore, so I'm sorry."

John dropped his head down after he finished speaking, and you looked at him for a moment, blinking once before reaching out to rub his back.

"Johnny, there is nothing to be sorry about." He turned his gaze to look at you, and you took some long pauses between your sentences. John was patient, eyes watching your face, and hanging onto every word you said.

"Of all the people I could have ended up with in that rocket tonight, I don't think you have any idea just how grateful I am that it was you in there with me, and not some stranger."

You didn't think you could keep it inside forever just what you thought about John's kissing, but you didn't think you'd give up fifteen minutes after the situation, either.

"John, I've kissed boys before, that's no secret between us; but what is is that I've never kissed a boy the way I kissed you tonight, and the attention you were giving back to me, I thought I nearly fell for you in there, and I had no clue it was even you," you laughed a little, the words feeling funny in your mouth, especially when they were for John's ears, only. Those words elicited red faces from the both of you.

"... I never thought I'd ever be nervous looking you in the eye, but to be quite honest, all that comes to mind when I see your face right now is the bubbling of excitement in my chest, and the feel of my legs going wobbly. God, John, would I be crazy to say I want you to kiss me like that all over again?"

You figured if you didn't throw the opportunity out there, you just might lose the chance to experience what you felt again, even if it meant just one last time in your life. But when John remained silent for longer than you hoped, your confidence began to falter. Perhaps John wasn't so comfortable with you anymore.

"... Would I be crazy?" You asked again, this time just above a whisper. John was the kind of person you expected to laugh something like this off. Perhaps he'd tease you for a moment, but ultimately tell you it was no big deal before gently rejecting you.

Instead, his silence indicated something much different. His eyes darted to your lips for a moment, a hand reaching up to hold the back of your head gently as he glanced up into your eyes.

"Love, if you think you're crazy for thinking that, then what I'm thinking must make me completely mad."

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, and John decided not to waste any more time in reconnecting your lips.

At first it was a little strange, his mouth on yours, but it wasn't in any way unpleasant. You found yourself, before long, snaking your arms around John's shoulders as you pulled him ever closer, your chests now flush as he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. You hummed at the contact, but John had to pull away soon after to catch a breath, but he kept your chests flush so he could feel your heartbeat.

The contrast of kissing him knowing full well who he was still didn't change the respect in his movements, and the gentleness of his kisses.

When your eyes met again, you couldn't help but smile nervously at him, biting down on your lip as you noticed his cheeks glowed pink.

"Wow," you sighed.

"I'll say," he responded, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as the pad of his thumb drew invisible patterns from your cheekbone down your jaw.

That's when your smile began to fall slowly, and John noticed this as he was going to dive in for another kiss.

"What's the matter, Love?"

"... I think I like this too much. I think I like you too much," you said bluntly. The more you and John indulged in what you both physically wanted, the more you realized what you were putting on the line.

"... And is that a problem?" John asked you gently, and you raised your eyebrow, pulling away a little more from the embrace.

"It's a problem because this puts our friendship at risk, John. Every time our lips touch, the harder it is to look at you platonically."

"Then don't look at me platonically anymore," His suggestion was so effortless as you felt his other hand reach up to play with your hair.

"... I never expected tonight to go the way it did. But y/n, the more I think about a situation where it was anyone but me in that rocket with you, the more jealous I'm becoming... The more grateful I am that it was me, too."

John took another moment to bask in the silence before clearing his throat, and looking you right in the eyes.

"My eyes are wider than they've ever been before, and my mind is so clear. Why don't we try dating?" He suggested after a moment of deciding whether to ask in the first place.

"Dating?!" You paused. "John, if anything were to happen to what we have..."

"I know you're scared, y/n. So am I. But... I also believe this can be the beginning of something really great."

John let the hand in your hair drop to his shoulder where one of your hands rested. He gave your fingers a squeeze before he raised your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

"We already kind of go on dates, and now that kissing and hand holding is on the list of things we're comfortable with, we might as well just put a label on it."

John paused for a moment. "It's not like we have to scream it from the rooftops unless you wanted to. But... after tonight, it would be a treat to be able to walk around with my arm 'round your waist and proudly announce to the world that you're mine."

That comment of his made you bite back a toothy grin, but your red face really emphasized how his words made you feel. You were expecting a teasing jab from John, but, surprisingly, nothing came. Just hopeful eyes awaiting your response.

"If you're so confident we'll flourish romantically... then I'm with you, Johnny. We'll give it a go. But under one condition!"

John looked at you expectantly.

"You win me that damned stuffed animal tomorrow night, Lenny."

Now it was John's turn to grin, his arms curling around your body and pulling you into a warm embrace as he mumbled "deal" into your ear.

You were once again surrounded by leather, the crisp night air, the single dim beam of light from the streetlamp, and the faintest scent of whatever John's body wash was.

But most of all, you we're surrounded by young love.

You finally supposed that by the end of the night, you did end up leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You just had no clue you could kill two birds with one stone the way you had.

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A/A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed this! I've had it in the works for LITERALLY four years now, and I am just SO glad it can be out in the world now.

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bbyhoneybee-x · 1 year ago

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Hi! I love your blog! I was wondering, I saw a post you did where they give their someone a black eye or something? And was wondering if you could do Michael, Vincent and Thomas? If it's too much I'm sorry! Thank you so much!

ayyy guess who's back from the dead! i would like to briefly apolgize for being in active on here for so long, i had lost insperation to write for a while but now im back to give it a second shot! hope you all like this

Michael Myers-

To say that Michael was a big man is an overstatement when he so easily towers over you without even having to try so there's gonna be times of where he might bump into you or knock you over without realizing that your there. By the time you had gotten back to your home sweet home it was late and you were just so very tired and all you wanted to do was cuddle up to Michael and go the hell to sleep, grabbing your keys you unlocked the house and made your way inside before you kicked off your shoes and called out for the masked man , " hey! im finally home" you said as you made your way upstairs to the bedroom you both share only to find Micheal laying on the bed his mask abandoned on the floor which has only been some recently that been been doing around you more often. With sleep filling your eyes you trudged on over to the bed and went to lean done to give him a small peak on his cheek. The thing you need to realize is that even though Micheal is a gigantic of a man and could very easily crush your or anyone's skull simply with his hand , without his mask on he feels very vulnerable , since he sleeps like the dead he didn't hear you come in and the gentle pressure of your lips against his cheek had him in a frenzy state where his fist had collided with your face sending you back on the floor in a ball of pain. His eyes widened as he stand up , his chest breathing frantically now , seeing you on the floor holding your face made his cold heart break softly. Without saying anything he gently picks you up in his huge arms and held you to his chest, even though he doesn't speak he tried to comfort you s best as he from what he knows [which isn't a whole lot] gently tilting your face up to meet his gaze seeing what damage he had cause. your eye had already swelled up and a dark purple color was filling the effected area quickly, sensing the panic in his eyes you gently held his hand in a way to not only comfort him but yourself as well " hey its ok mikey , i know you didn't mean to hurt me i startled you " you said as you gently squeezed his hand. Micheal shakes his head softly as he looked at your eye and a deep sigh had left his chest, he gently placed you down on the bed and gestured for you to stay there and he made his way down to the kitchen. after a few long minutes an hearing some concerning bangs downstairs he trudged his way back to you with item in his hands , an frozen bag of peas in one hand and in the other hand carried some ibuprofen and some Halloween candy. A softly smiles came across your face as he held the bag of peas to your eye trying to be careful of not wanting to cause you more pain then he already has , he placed the candy in you lap and open the bottle of the pain relief and place two in your hand before reaching over to the old wooden nightstand and handed you a tall glass of water. Micheal maybe be a stone cold killer and a nightmare to many people but for you he was soft and loving , he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for a while after the accident , his hands would tremble against yours every time you'd go to hold his hand as if he was afraid to hold you like you were made from glass but after a while he would start to com back around with the help of loving words from you and patience, soon enough he'd be back in your arms like the whole thing had never happened but the thought of it happening again is something that not only scares him but also you as well but with being able to put down rules in place and make sure that he knows that your there maybe this might just be a one time nightmare for the both of you

Vincent Sinclair -

Making wax sculptures all day was a very tiring task for Vincent , usually by the time he was almost finished it was already dark outside and way past time bedtime. Normally you wouldn't go downstairs and try to bring him up since he was just a stubborn as Bo was, he'd shoo you off back to bed and he'd soon follow up after a few minute but tonight was different as you had not seen him once except for this morning when he woken you up by giving a small kiss to your head and it was down into the basement he went. He didn't even come up for breakfast,lunch or dinner which wasn't like him at all , it had worried a big hole through your stomach as you stood by the to of the step that led down to his workshop of sorts. You'd never really gone down there unless you really needed him since in his own way that space down there was a safe space for him and you didn't want to really upset him by barging in uninvited. But you were worried so he would come to understand that hopefully you thought to yourself as you started to ascend down in the darken basement. The sounds of your shoes echoed off of the stone walls as you make your way to the opening of the basement , " Vincent?" you called out as you stood by the door with your arms wrapped around your torso in a attempt to comfort your self . Without hearing any type of response you started to advancing deeper in to the room looking around when you finally spot the tall masked man looming over one of the wax figures , the sharp blade of his knife seemingly glows in the dark . you take a few more steps forward as you called his name out once more with no avail , this isn't like him at all . You approach him and gently places a hand on his shoulder and shook him softly " Hey vin-" your words were cut off as he spins around at a quick speed like you've seen before normally when hes trying to get his next victim , the tip of the knife had came across and gashes in to your cheek inflicting a stinging pain that cause you to cry out and fall own on to the floor. Vincent was in his own little world when he created these master pieces and normally he good about not getting to far into his head that much but today was different for him , Bo had given him a deadline to have these pieces down and out into the wax museum and hes not one to disappoint his twin brother he ended up blocking out the urges to eat and see you. His hands trembled as he drop the knife and falls down to his knees where his hand had cradled your face and his eyes widen with pure panic. He reached over to his work table and grab a rag which he held to your cheek , he might not be a man of many words but his eyes do all the speaking for him , he was sorry for hurting you accidentally. You gently placed your hand on top of his in comfort " You didn't mean to do it Vincent it's ok" you said as he began on cleaning up the gash and he could't help but be mad at himself for doing it but your words always had a calming effect on him. Soon the gash was cleaned and bandage up , he sat on the floor with you in his lap and you holding hi hands. In your eyes he's not a monster and you helped him see that from his eyes as well. Eventually you both have came up with a system to ensure that something like this wouldn't happen again , it was a simple belly attached to a string that led in to hr basement so you can ring it from upstairs and he'll know that you'd be coming down.

Thomas Hewitt-

It's hot summer days like this that makes you want nothing more then to sit in the cool shade and sip on some fresh , ice cold lemonade with your beloved Thomas , but unfortunately today is a day where hoyt had thrown Thomas in to some hard bloody work. Normally he'd do it would out any complaint but the heat was starting to effect him, making him more irritable then he usually is. You stood in the kitchen softly sipping on the refreshing beverage as you heard Thomas grunt loudly in pain and slammed something hard down that caused the floorboards to shake from the forced behind it. Your heart breaks for him , he every rarely get anytime to himself or anytime with you since Hoyt made it his job to get his hands bloody and proved for the family , so you had made the choice to bring him a nice cool glass of lemonade in hope that it could help him feel better. "Poor thing must be suffering down there in the hot basement " you said to yourself as you carefully made your way down the old creaky stairs leading to the basement with the drink in on hand. Thomas came into your eyesight , he was hunch over the wooden work table , his shoulders moving up and down as he breathe heavily, one hand clutching onto the other seemingly had hurt it when he was working. Your eyes had widened a bit as you rushed over to him after setting the glass down on a different spot " Tommy? are you ok darling?" you said as you came over to his side trying to see what had happend to his hand , he grunts angrily and tuned his back to face you " Thomas let me see please" you said softly as your hand reached out to grab his arm but it didn't go to plan. The moment he felt the hand on his elbow his top had blew a fuse, reacting on pure instinct, he shoved you away from him but there are times of where he didn't know his own strength.Your head slammed into the wooden table behind you , black spot had filled your vision as Thomas had seen what his anger had done to his love of his life, any anger that he had immediately went away see you on the floor holding your head in pain. Thomas dropped to his knees and held your head in his giant hands looking closely to see if there was any blood coming out of it , he pulled your hand away from it to see some blood on it and he swear he could feel his heart shatter into million pieces , he picked you up in his arms and ran up stair to the room the both of you shared and lays you on the bed before he grab a basin ad filled it with clean water and grab some rags to help clean the wound. the time he took cleaning your head wound was spent in silence but you could hear his soft sniffles and you knew he didn't mean to ever hurt you on purpose. Once he was done wrapping up your head you turn to face him , he sat on his knee looking down at his hands , gently you sit up and wrap your arms around his neck bringing his head in to your lap gently hushing as he made soft sounds in protest afraid he was gonna hurt you again," Tommy is ok im gonna be fine i promise you said softly making his head rise up to look at you with silent tears in his eyes as his hands gently came up and brushed against your head , you gently grabs his hands and held them to your chest right over your heart, " im still here Thomas , i ain't going no where i know you didn't mean to hurt me me at all it was just an accident'' you said softly with a smile. Thomas leans his head on your chest and held on to you as if your gonna slip through his hands like sand. It'll take Thomas sometime to feel like his hands aren't gonna hurt you every-time he touches you, you can see the bit of fear in his eyes , but each time you reassure him that hes not a monster that he sees himself as, an that you love him regardless of anything that's happened. soon enough your Thomas start to come back around , now his hands are constantly on you all the time , but hey its not like either of ya'll have any complains at all.

{ i hope you guys really enjoyed this! after not writing for a while it defently feels really good to be back! hopefully this is good if not better then my past works but let me know what you guys think!)

#slashers #bubba sawyer #horror #thomas hewitt #bo sinclair #rz michael myers #rz halloween #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #vincent sinclair #slasher imagines #micheal myers x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #thomas hewitt x reader

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moriitis · 3 months ago

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hihi :3 I already saw someone request this on another blog but I wanted to see it in your style, toby with reader who has very long hair? like I mean to the ankles long. especially if it's really thick and poofy, would he help her brush it or braid it? anyways I love your writing!! <3

holy shit I love this??! thank you so much!! hope this satisfies !

TW; vomiting.

Now naturally this all depends on the scenario, are you his helpless victim? A lover? Obviously it'll be fun if we kicked things off with a little horror.

Oh, the idea of long hair, the way it trailed behind you as you ran carelessly through the halls of your empty apartment, it sent shivers of pleasure down his spine.

How careless, how stupid, he thought as he trailed behind you, hungry eyes focused on the way your hair flicked and lashed out.

It took him nothing to take one lunge and reach out, his gloves fingers wrapping around your hair and taking a fistful of it. It was a quick yank, a yank hard enough to send you falling to your back.

There was an urge, an urge to remove his glove, to caress your face, to feel your hair between his fingers.. there was that hungry urge to hack away at it, to cut it off and leave you in a state of dismay.

He stepped over you, his body looming over your own. He'd never met someone with such long hair before, frankly, there was too much of it. He pondered, how the fuck could someone care for such a thing?

His eyes were hungry as he brought the ends of your hair closer up to his face.

With a finger, he slipped it up and over his mask before promptly slipping it off his face, revealing the hideous scar on the side of his cheek.

Then he pressed your hair against his nostrils, sucking in a deep breath.

He shuddered.

Then chuckled a little.

"L- L-" the letter trailed on his tongue as his neck twitched, causing his face to turn and scrunch up briefly. "Long hair like that w-.. will get you k-" he ticked. "Killed."

A shit eating grin appeared across his features.

In one swift move, he had one knee resting just next to your head. His hands removed themselves, untangling from your hair before moving now to your skull.

He took another fistful and forced you up with the aid of your hair.

Your eyes met, faces inches apart. He was quivering, his breath shaky, the eagerness and excitement attacking his body all at once.

He sighed.

"Took you a l-.." it was like he struggled with the letter 'L', he twitched his head again. "Long time to grow that out, such a f--ffuckin' waste." Then without much care, his hand guided your head to the side of the wall and your vision went black.

Oh, long hair? It wasn't what he expected when he first laid his eyes on you, a blush scattering across his face. He was thankful for his mask, making sure to push it up further in an attempt to drown out his excitement.

Beautiful, long hair on an already beautiful person? Was he dreaming?

Toby blinked once and then twice, shit, were you talking to him?

"Y-Your h-.." Fuck, don't mess this up now! "Your hair is so.. long." Was he being blunt?

He felt compelled to touch it.

Toby couldn't force himself and kept his hands to himself but as weeks turned to months and the ever growing love that was blossoming between the two of you was getting bigger and bigger, he felt more comfortable with the physical touches.

It took awhile before he suddenly blurted out.

"So, obviously I-.. I-- I'm your boyfriend, right? So- So, like.. I can tou-.. touch you, r-right?"

Boundaries were important, he wanted to be careful and tread carefully.

"H-How the ff-fuck do you c-.." twitch. "Control your hair?"

He was naturally curious. The life of a guy and their hair was not much of a drag. Brush it out and wash it once every three two weeks.

So when you two found time alone, when he felt physical, craving the touch, or when he found himself lost in his thoughts, his hands would find themselves entangled in your hair.

He never knew how relaxing it was to brush such long hair, how your hair reacted to the brush. It was like fucking magic.

So when you suggested the idea that he could braid it, he was dumbfounded.

What the fuck is a braid. Like the kinda shit he feels compelled to do with some rope? You can do that to hair?

He scoffed.

"Braid, psh, yep, know how to do that."

Motherfucker just ends up twirling your hair round and round.

He was a flustered fuck when you laughed at his attempt, his brows furrowed as he tried to explain himself.

So when you showed him how to do it, it took a couple attempts.

First attempt, he lost the hair band and became very focused on finding it.

Second attempt, he accidentally let go and it unravelled in his face.

The third attempt he was getting somewhere though, it was starting to look like what you showed him but nothing as perfect as you had it.

Then there were the times where you were uncontrollably sick, heaving into the toilet bowl as he held your hair and caressed it.

He used the trick you taught him and tied it into a braid while you were throwing up.

Was so proud of himself.

Toby, being the lover he is, refused that you bath yourself while this sick, so he had to help you wash your hair.

Jesus it was a nightmare.

He complained the whole time.

"There's t-t- too much hair?!"

sorry if this sucks, i hope its okay ;,)

requests are open!!

#creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #ticci toby #toby rogers #creepypasta headcanons #headcanons #ticci toby headcanons #requests are open #toby rogers headcanons

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kaleldobrev · 1 year ago

Text

The First Butterfly

Pairing: Castiel/Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Cas bond over your current interest in butterflies

Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hey, I just found your blog and it's so pretty! I really like your writing^^ Could I please request something for Castiel x female reader, where maybe they're not on hunts and they're just taking a break, and maybe he sees her reading something like a book about butterflies or something like this and he starts talking about them and it's just fluff? Thank you in advance ^^

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Cursing (1x), Lots of fluff, Dean bothering you (but lovingly like a brother cause he's bored)

Authors Note: I haven’t written Cas in such a long time, but I missed writing him | I hope this is as fluffy as you were hoping my sweet anon friend! | If you want to request something, just send me a message! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

It’s been a little over a week since you and the boys have been on a hunt, and you could tell that Dean was starting to get a little stir crazy despite your best efforts to keep him entertained with various ideas of things he could do besides bother you.

“Are you sure there’s nothing? Not even a vengeful spirit?” Dean asked you, taking a seat across from you in the War Room, propping his feet up on the table.

You looked up from your book - a book that you’d been trying to read for the past week. You gave Dean a look, a slightly annoyed look. “If there was a case Dean, don’t you think I would have told you guys?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He agreed. You nodded, and then went back to trying to read your book, keeping your finger on the edge of the page. “It’s just, it’s never been this quiet.” He said after a few moments of silence between the two of you. You looked up at him with that same annoyed expression you had given him earlier.

“I call that a good thing.” You said, looking down at your book again. You turned the page, finally able to read something new.

“I just really need to kill something.” Dean said banging a fist onto the table, the action making you jump in your chair. “Shit.”

“Sorry.” You closed your book with a firm slap, quickly getting up from your chair. “Where ya goin’?” He asked, watching as you started walking away from him.

“To my room!” You stated, loudly. “And with my door shut!” You emphasized.

For about the last hour you had finally found some peace in your room; actually being able to read more than one page - something you hadn’t been able to do due to the distractions Dean had caused you. As much as you loved the man, you wished he had taken some of your advice and did things to keep himself occupied during this weird break you and the boys have had. Despite loving hunting, having a break was something that was a rarity; and it was times like these in which you cherished it.

Lying in bed there was a soft knock on your bedroom door. You let out an annoyed groan, expecting it to be Dean on the other side. “Go away Dean!” You stated, only briefly looking away from your book.

“It’s…me.” A small amount of relief had entered your body at that moment, happy to know that it wasn’t Dean on the other side of the door but in fact Cas. “May I…May I come in?”

“Yeah you can come in.” You said, closing the book in front of you. As much as you had wanted and tried to read the book in front of you for the past week, Cas was someone that you hadn’t seen or spoken to in about two weeks - so for you, this took precedence.

“What’s up?” You asked as Cas walked into your room, closing the door behind him.

“Nothing. It’s been quiet.” He stated, standing awkwardly next to your door.

“Nothing on angel radio uh?” You asked, sitting up now.

He shook his head. “No.” He said simply.

You patted an empty spot on your bed. “Come sit.”

He smiled at your gesture, sitting down on the edge, very much away from the spot that you had touched. As he sat down he eyed the book that you had been reading and picked it up, the smile on his face grew a tad. “I remember when He made the first butterfly. It was truly a sight to behold.” He said opening the book.

For the past week you had been trying to read a book about butterflies, a subject that you had found yourself quite interested in as of late; not really knowing why. “I bet it was.” You said, watching Cas turning the pages of the book. “I haven’t read much, but, I’m really enjoying the book. What makes it interesting, at least to me, is that it tells you a bunch of different things about the various butterfly species around the world. Their habits, characteristics, what makes each of them special in their own unique way.”

“Do you have a favorite?” He asked, looking up from the book to look at you. He had stopped at a page talking about common species of butterflies found in Kansas - a page that you had bookmarked.

“The Red Admiral.” You smiled. “It’s the most common butterfly species to be found in Kansas. And one of the most unique things about them is their diet. Did you know that they love fermented fruit?”

Cas smiled. “That is quite interesting. I didn’t know that.” He said, lying. Of course he knew that fact, but that wasn’t something he was going to disclose to you. For the first time since he had known you, this genuinely seemed like a subject that you were truly interested in, and he wasn’t about to seem like a know-it-all, or seem dismissive when it came to this particular interest of yours.

“Do you have a favorite?” You asked. You knew that Cas had lied to you, but you didn’t care in that moment that he did because you were happy that he was humoring you in your interest.

“The Protocoeliades kristenseni. But, I have to say, I’m a little bias.” He chuckled to himself.

“How so?” It was a species that you hadn’t heard of before, despite your reading.

“They’re the oldest species of butterfly.” He stated, you nodded understanding. Sometimes you had forgotten how old Cas really was; until moments like these had taken place.

“I can see why you’re bias.” Your tone joking.

“I can probably say the same for you when it comes to the Red Admiral.” His tone now joking too.

You shrugged. “What can I say? Kansas as grown on me.”

“It’s honestly so hard to believe that there is over twenty thousand butterfly species in the world.” You said, you and Cas were now lying in your bed now; yourself underneath the covers and him on top. Cas chuckled at your comment. “What?”

“It’s humorous to me that you find that unbelievable but yet you hunt monsters, things that people do not believe in.” When he had said it out loud, it did in fact sound funny.

“When you put it that way…” you trailed off. “Makes it funnier coming from you. An angel of all things.”

“So, if you were around when the first butterfly was created, what did God originally call them?” You asked. “Did you and the rest of the angels get a vote? Or was it one of those things where he wasn’t taking any suggestions?” You turned on your side now, propping up your head with your hand and elbow.

“We, we didn’t get a vote no.” Cas said, smiling, trying to hold back a small laugh. “It wasn’t…it wasn’t up to us. But, I think Joshua did have some say. He was the gardener after all.”

“So it was always butterflies?” You asked.

“Essentially yes.” He said. “Buterfleoge, but it’s just Old English for butterfly today.”

“So, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it uh?” You said, Cas looked at you confused. “Meaning, why change the name if it makes sense.” You explained. “Butterfly doesn’t make sense though. I mean, I hate to say this but, was God…high when he named them? I mean, no butterfly looks like a stick of butter. And I know for a damn fact that butter wasn’t around yet either when he created them…or named them.”

“Jesus.” You were amazed. “I didn’t think you would actually do it.” You said.

“It’s not that difficult.” He said, as he started playing with his fingers.

“You named every single species of butterfly like it was nothing. That’s…that’s pretty impressive.” And it was. There was over twenty thousand species and Cas was able to name them all in less than 15 minutes, a feat that you didn’t think he would be able to pull off.

“It’s just as impressive to me as when you name every single Queen song like it’s nothing.” He said.

“You can thank Dean for that weird talent I have.” You stated. “Being in the car with that man every day for years will do that to you. Because of him, I know every single band from the 70s and 80s along with all of their members past and present, along with the names of all of their songs. Including, all the lyrics to said songs. Helps when he listens to the same albums over and over and sings along.”

“What got you interested in butterflies? I’ve never seen you read about them before?” Cas asked, he was now underneath the covers with you now, his trench coat hung neatly on the coat rack in your room in the corner.

“I don’t know. I just…for some reason I found myself really into them lately.” You said honestly. You had found butterflies interesting when you were younger, but it wasn’t a subject that you hadn’t delved deep into until recently. “I guess, I guess I really never had the time to look into anything that had interested me because of hunting.”

“Because it’s something that you were born into.” He stared, and you nodded.

“Yeah. While other kids were playing Barbie’s, talking about unicorns and butterflies and I was learning how to hustle pool and how to load a gun.” You were born into a family of hunters, kind of similar to the way Sam and Dean had been.

“I’m sorry.” His apology sincere.

“It’s not your fault. And, I know it seems like I’m complaining about my childhood but, my parents really were good people. Did the best they could.” For a while, you were mad at your parents, mad that they had raised you the way that they did - never letting you get the chance to be a normal kid. But in their own strange way, they raised you that way so you would always be able to protect yourself no matter what.

You had fallen asleep, your head leaning on Cas’ shoulder. The two of you had been talking for hours, and between the actual time and the amount of talking the two of you had done it had started to wear you out. Cas knew that you had wanted to talk to him more, talk to him about everything that you had learned so far from your book, but for the life of you, you couldn’t keep your eyes open. And as you talked about the Monarch Butterfly, your eyes had started to grow heavy. You had tried to fight it, and Cas saw that. As much as he had wanted to try and keep you up, he knew that you needed the sleep. The life of a hunter was tough, and not getting a lot of sleep was a part of the job. That is why he let you drift off into dream land so you could get that sleep that you needed.

He decided to stay there in bed with you. He wanted to enjoy the peacefulness of watching you sleep, something that he had always found fascinating to watch when it came to humans. He had only hoped that you were dreaming of butterflies. With a kiss on the top of your head, he shut his eyes too; not to sleep of course, but to just let them rest as he waited for you to wake up.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 If you'd like to be on a tag list, let me know!

#castiel x reader #castiel x you #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #cas x you #cas x reader #reader insert #female reader

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