#july drabble game

[angstflayer-council]

July Drabble #3- Make Him Pay

“Make him pay.”

Words inked in grey on Steve’s arm since he was born, the last words he’d ever hear his soulmate say. For a long time, the words didn’t make much sense to Steve, they sounded like someone angry, will someone hurt Steve’s soulmate killing them? Will Steve die making them pay?

Now Steve knows about monsters.

The worst part of the words on his arm is that they’re a curse, you won’t know you found them until it’s too late.

Maybe that’s a good thing, it makes you cherish the one you love.

Steve had hoped he had been wrong, that the words wouldn’t be linked to the hell below them.

Hope didn’t stop the words falling from Eddie’s lips.

Steve wanted to beg him to say something else, anything else, one more joke, one more goodbye, anything to stop Steve from losing him.

Want didn’t stop Robin gently pulling his arm and leading him away.

Robin knew, she was the only other person that did, she knew she was walking with Steve to his death or would be bringing him back to Eddie’s.

As Steve’s head slammed back against the wall, vines pulling tightly around his neck, Steve was almost glad, he wished to be the one to go first, the kids would be fine with Eddie.

Wishes didn’t stop them getting free, it didn’t stop Vecna falling with Steve still standing.

Steve didn’t even wait for the girls; he dropped his axe and ran back down the stairs and through the woods, praying he was wrong.

Prayers didn’t stop the fate he knew awaited back at the trailer.

As the door opened though, Steve thought maybe hope and want and wishes and prayers did fix everything because Eddie was in front of him smiling.

The joy he felt didn’t last long because Steve was confused, Eddie should be dead. Was he not Steve’s soulmate, the thought was more heartbreaking than he’d been prepared for.

“You’re supposed to be dead?”

The shock on Eddie’s face was understandable, he’d surely been expecting a happy reunion after their victory.

Steve pulled down his sleeve, exposing his wrist to Eddie who in turn traced the now black words, proving Eddie was his soulmate.

The boys shared a look of confusion.

“But how is that possible,” Eddie said but Steve felt everything click into place.

“Oh Eds, I think I got my last bad hit to the head.”

Make him pay may be the last words Steve ever heard Eddie say, but their sign language gets better every day.

[timechange]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 — blind spot.

JANUARY 11, 1986

The key turns in the front door, the winter chill rushing into the house. A moment later, the hall light turns on.

“Mom? You awake?” 

Sylvia smiles at the sound of her son’s voice, putting down her crochet things on the end table.  

“We’re in here, Georgie!” 

Carefully, she stands, easing her grandson’s head off her lap and tucking a pillow underneath. She’s pretty sure the kid must’ve been an acrobat in another life; there’s no way he’d be able to sleep all twisted up like a pretzel otherwise. She readjusts the blanket she’d put over him, smoothing down his hair, before meeting her son and daughter-in-law halfway.

“Well, how was the party?” she asks, leaning up against the breakfast bar as George and Lorraine hang up their coats. “You two crazy kids have fun hobnobbin’ with the head honchos at Simon & Schuster?” 

“It was nice, Mom, thanks,” George answers, way too dismissively for a party he’d been talking about for weeks, full of editors and publishers and everything he’d always dreamed of, “but–”

“How was Marty?” Lorraine interrupts, urgently.

Here we go. Finally, some answers.

“Lorrie, honey, you know Artie and I always love bein’ with the kids,” Sylvia begins, and she meant it, even though Artie had called it a night about three hours ago and was now snoring loud enough to shake the walls, “but seventeen goin’ on eighteen’s a little old for a babysitter, don’t you think?” 

“Oh, we’ve just been so worried about him, Sylvia,” Lorraine pleads, eyes wide. “We… we didn’t think it would be a good idea to leave him alone.” 

“For the last few months,” George elaborates, wrapping an arm around his wife and holding her close, “he hasn’t been himself. He doesn’t sleep, he’s been having nightmares… he’s been having memory problems, too, and I know he’s a teenager, but sometimes he’ll get in his own head and it’s like… he’s not even here, like he goes somewhere else instead.”

“He’ll get so confused,” Lorraine agrees, “and-and he used to love thunderstorms but now he’s just so afraid of them and... other things… sometimes it even feels like he's afraid of us…” She bites her lip and buries herself into George. 

It breaks Sylvia’s heart to see them like this; in mourning for the boy who’s alive and breathing and fast asleep on the couch. Just a few hours ago her and Marty were singing along to the radio while making dinner and laughing until they cried trying to play games on his Nintendo while eating Lucky Charms by the bowlful.

“We must’ve missed something,” George murmurs, “something must’ve happened to him and we missed it somehow.”

“We’ve just been so busy,” Lorraine laments, “too busy. I-I thought it was the stress… with college applications and everything changing… but even Jennifer and Doctor Brown don’t know what’s wrong.”  

Sylvia isn’t quite sure she buys that. 

She may not know a lot of things, but she does know that Carl Sagan from 1931 certainly doesn’t look like that nice young man on PBS from a couple years back but did look a whole lot like that whiz kid Emmett and even more like her grandson’s best friend, that nice Doctor Brown, that Emmett grew up to be. 

She also knows that Sonny Crockett (who is pretty much all they talked about at dinner tonight) is from one of Marty’s favorite shows, not that kid from 1931 with her grandson’s sweet blue eyes and a fake mustache.

She even remembers George begging her and Artie to help him get all dolled up for some dance at the last minute and talking all about how he wasn’t going with a date but he was going to meet up with his new friend Marty there.

Not to mention the date on that Bubble Bobble game of his is two years from now.

When you grow up around liars and cheats, you get to be really good at noticing things. 

“So how was he tonight?” George asks again. “Really?”

“Georgie, sweetheart, he was fine,” Sylvia emphasizes. “We had a great time. As for the other stuff… Remember what you were like when you were his age? I sure do. Any time your dad and I got near ya we’d have to promise we weren’t tryin’ to look in your journals. Even if we were just givin’ you a hug!”

They crack a smile at this, George at least having the decency to look sheepish.

“Whatever’s going on with Marty,” she continues, “he’ll tell ya when he’s good and ready. And remember: you’re great parents. He loves you. He’d do anything for you. Just be there for him until then and let him know that you love him too. No matter what.”

Sylvia looks over her shoulder at her sleeping grandson, a fond smile and a mischievous look in her eye.

We got a lot to talk about, kiddo. I’m ready when you are.

[1mnobodywhoareyou]

Can I get a drabble please? ;)

... Thanks.

I hate it.

99 words. You're welcome:

“Hey, hot dog!” Willie greets the studio enthusiastically as he poofs in.

The fake cheer only lasts a moment as he takes in the low-lit space.

It’s just as empty as he expected.

He walks slowly around the space, running his hand lightly over the cymbals of Alex’s drum kit.

If only he’d gotten the chance to see them play. Not some perverse Caleb-controlled show. But them. He can only imagine what this trio of energetic, larger than life boys could bring to a stage.

He coughs out a wry laugh. Larger than life. Dead. Destroyed. What bitter irony.

[bg-sparrow]

mcfly july 2023 || day 21 The Brown Estate

xxi.

For the last two months, when Emmett went to work at the courthouse after school, he swam through angry tides of unemployed, homeless, sometimes starving victims of the stock market crash.

They resented him – for every meal he had, every night he slept in a warm bed. For being untouched by this generation-defining ruin.

Little did they know his father was scrambling to save their home by Christmas.

Emmett was already packing.  

His mother defiantly donned her pearls and bought fresh-cut flowers for the foyer.

“We’re not going anywhere,” she said, arranging the peonies and clover. “This is our home.”

[dreamties]

Sonny is into natural history !! It's something he reads books on and takes notes about his favorite discoveries in a journal jam-packed with all his interests. He spends hours at the library perusing the history section, and then gardening and herbology and science. There is no specific natural history section, though he thinks there should be. He knows at least a dozen books that would fit into that section. Perhaps he should volunteer or get a job there, he thinks. But natural history is a hobby to him, not a career. It's something he loves, will spend an hour telling Leland and Ana about it. He's always patient with Leland, who can be slow with verbal information sometimes (but perfect with written ideas, always) and just needs a breather between topics. Sonny is always willing to respect that. He slows down and he shows Leland the pictures in his books- if he has any on him. He lets him look at the highlighted sections of his journal, doesn't pay too much mind to the scribbles in the margins and the excessive flow of ideas unrelated to the topic. Leland loves how passionate he is about this. Loves how caring he is.

Leland loves his friend nearly as much as Sonny loves his passions, loves his books, loves learning about natural history.

(Sonny loves Leland more than all those things. Sonny loves him as more than a friend, but not more than his other friends.)

[wr0temyway0ut]

First sentence prompt: He honestly was not expecting no for an answer, in fact, he initially thought his question stupid, like who doesn’t know at least one card game?

"Like, at all?" Willie asks.

His cute cell mate sputters out a few inhuman noises before responding, "I mean, like-- sure, I'm sure I know some, but my brain's a little preoccupied right now with, you know, being in jail."

"Woah, Blondie," Willie chuckles. "Take a breath."

Blondie nods and sucks in a few deep breaths.

Once he calms down, Willie can't resist the urge to add, "You know, you better learn some card games, or you're gonna be bored outta your mind in prison."

"Prison?!" Blondie shrieks.

Willie bursts into laughter as Blondie's cheeks go bright red. "I'm messing with you, dude."

Blondie lets out a relieved sigh.

"Hey," Willie says, nudging his shoulder, "I'm Willie."

"Alex."

(Send me the first sentence of a fic and I'll write the next 5!)

[waynes-multiverse]

Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY

Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH

A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)

Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles

Cruel Summer

“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”

As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.

But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.

“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.

Painfully hard.

“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.

“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.

“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”

Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.

Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.

I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.

Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.

Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.

Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.

On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.

A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.

But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.

Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.

Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.

“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.

A hunter gathering panties.

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.

You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”

“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”

It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.

“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.

The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.

Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:

I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.

You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.

So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.

Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.

Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.

It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.

With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.

As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.

Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.

So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…

“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.

“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”

You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.

“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”

Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”

You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”

“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.

“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.

“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”

“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”

“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”

“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.

Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”

But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.

“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”

Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.

The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.

If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.

As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.

With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.

His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.

As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.

God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.

“Dean?!”

The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.

“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.

“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.

Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”

“Right, uhm…”

“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.

You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.

“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.

Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”

As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”

That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.

“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.

And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.

Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.

“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”

“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.

“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.

Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.

With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.

“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”

You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.

“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.

He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”

“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”

As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”

The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”

You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”

“Well, uhm…”

Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”

“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.

“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.

“You can do that,” you said with a smile.

“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”

You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”

Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.

“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.

You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”

“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.

“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”

“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.

He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.

You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.

“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”

Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”

Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.

With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.

“Hop on, sweetheart.”

And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.

Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.

The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).

And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.

As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.

With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.

His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.

Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.

You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.

As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.

“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.

Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”

Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?

But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”

You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.

“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.

You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”

Was it worth the words? 😝

For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥

PUT YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS HERE

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @imsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou

[vampwritesstuff]

𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩’𝐬 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐬 (1)

a random collection of Ateez fics I have stumbled across and fell in love with. (I am clearly biased towards smau fics)

* marks mature/violent content, please heed warnings posted by the author. MDNI with the fics on this list that are marked like this. You are responsible for the media you consume!

Personal favorites are marked with 💜

Authors will not be tagged multiple times if they have already been tagged once before on this list, this is to ensure that I don’t flood notifications and so I can tag as many different authors as I can!

If any authors would like their works removed from this list or to be untagged, please feel free to tell me!! As well as let me know if any links are not working properly! (I do tend to check them frequently though as this list also helps me keep track of the ongoing fics I am reading)

While you’re here, also feel free to check out my own Ateez smau Forgotten Melodies! (Shameless self promo but oh well, it’s my rec list I can recommend my own fic if I want to)

OT8/Multiple Members

wonderwall * @atzfilm 💜 (ongoing series)

circus * @lani-heart 💜 (ongoing)

inception * @remedyx (ongoing)

hypothesis (woosan) @woneuntonzz (ongoing smau)

ateez mafia au @softsan (ongoing)

this night together * (yungi) @honeyhotteoks 💜 (ongoing)

the essence of youth is summers with you @eightmakesonebraincell 💜 (oneshot)

divine ruination * @seonghwaddict (ongoing)

blinding lights * (seongjoong) @kpoppers-anonymous (ongoing)

when eight becomes nine @bunnliix (ongoing)

for love of the game * (yunwoo) @kitten4sannie (oneshot)

makes him want to give up his sea legs @yeontantrash 💜 (drabble)

that’s what roommates are for * (yunsanmin) @bro-atz (oneshot)

house of cards @moontyun (ongoing)

incomplete @ldysmfrst (ongoing)

our leaves must fall before our flowers can bloom @ eightmakesonebraincell 💜 (oneshot)

Kim Hongjoong

a wild ride * @bombuni (oneshot)

while you were sleeping @ seonghwaddict (oneshot)

when flowers bloom in the dark @makeitmingi (ongoing)

kindergarten love story @xomakara (oneshot)

your gentle hands @yourlocaljonghoe 💜 (oneshot)

Park Seonghwa

the lamb and the wolf * @ seonghwaddict (oneshot)

the way to his heart * @edenesth (completed series)

the stranger in 43b @jae-bummer (oneshot)

i will wait @hwaightme (oneshot)

let me in @ makeitmingi (oneshot)

Jeong Yunho

espresso for two? @xuchiya (oneshot)

music of the heart @noonaishere 💜 (ongoing smau)

empires @peacheeeliz 💜 (completed smau)

hunted: haunting adeline au * @whatudowhennooneseesyou 💜 (oneshot)

let’s start a podcast @mars101 (ongoing smau)

Kang Yeosang

morning glory * @anyamaris (oneshot)

operation: passenger princess @sungbeam 💜 (oneshot)

yeosang & a situationship @yunhoszn (oneshot smau)

oddeleny @songmingisthighs 💜 (completed smau)

Choi San

online/offline @ noonaishere 💜 (ongoing smau)

leave the window open @ sungbeam (oneshot)

hold me @cheeseceli (oneshot)

no hesitation * @daemour (oneshot)

love beyond barriers @catsannie (ongoing smau)

Song Mingi

preying on you tonight * @bvidzsoo (oneshot)

and july @sara-wishes (oneshot)

wave @sorryimananti-romantic (oneshot)

[ 11:45 p.m. ] @mingtinys (timestamp)

hidden flames @imagine-a-life-like-this & @mxnsxngie (ongoing)

save a horse, ride your best friend @ seonghwaddict (oneshot)

Jung Wooyoung

written in the stars @ennysbookstore (ongoing)

247 @yothangie 💜 (ongoing smau)

unexpectedly @dancinglikebutterflywings 💜 (ongoing smau + currently on hiatus/being rewritten)

lover, please stay * @roomsofangel (ongoing)

that and then @halaboyz (oneshot)

plans changed @ dancinglikebutterflywings (oneshot)

bullseye! @lividstar 💜 (oneshot)

let the heart love again @ makeitmingi 💜 (oneshot)

vivrant thing @hwaslayer (ongoing)

i don’t want your sorrys, i want you safe @dvrktvnnel (oneshot + planned part two)

die for me * @jisungchan (oneshot)

Choi Jongho

oh shit, are we in love? * @mingigoo 💜 (oneshot)

thinking about how… @ cheeseceli (drabble)

the pool * @beenbaanbuun (oneshot)

[hoshinasblade]

presenting: king of swords | hoshina soshiro

description: a multi-chapter fic inspired by this; royal prince au.

pairing: prince!hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: angst, comfort, fiancees to enemies to friends to lovers trope snippet: prince hoshina soshiro was never meant to inherit his father's throne, but he refuses to accept his fate of being wed to you, a woman who he has just met. you were not given the right to choose who to take as husband, yet you had decided long ago that you may forego love but never respect. trapped in a marriage where the currency is hatred, you and the prince would rather wage war against each other than wait for love to bloom. CHAPTER ONE: KING OF SWORDS CHAPTER TWO: FIVE OF WANDS CHAPTER THREE: THREE OF SWORDS CHAPTER FOUR: TWO OF CUPS CHAPTER FIVE: QUEEN OF SWORDS

upload of chapters will commence on july 15th. i might not write other fics in the meantime while this is in the works, but one-shots and drabbles from requests i receive in my asks are still fair game. as always, i appreciate any interactions on my works but please do not repost them anywhere. feel free to drop by my asks and leave me prompts - i always reply though there might be delays, so if you sent me something and i haven't answered, im just taking my time.

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

[promptseverlark]

TWHHA challenge Summer’24

“This Would Have Happened Anyway” Challenge for Summer ‘24

Katniss says it at the end of Mockingjay:

“But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?" I tell him, "Real.”

So let’s explore “What ifs” and send your fics. The theme this time is DISTRICTS APART 🔥 and it can be Pre-Games or Post-Mockingjay… but it could also be pre or port catching fire

Pairing: Everlark

Type: Fan Fiction or Fan Art.

Words: Over 1000 words (drabbles, one shots or short multi chapter are welcome, we would like to have submission completed although it isn’t mandatory)

theme this time is DISTRICTS APART

Deadline:

1. You can confirm your to participation until June 23rd (in Tumblr, answering this post) and you will be granted access to the collection to submit your work.

2. You can submit your fics up to July 11th midnight (CET time!)

3. Collection will be live July 13th 2024 as anonymous

4. Writers will be revealed July 20th

@thgcommentfeast

[aclassitag]

Announcing Krem Week!

#kremweek2024 — 22-28 July 2024

background art credit: @xfreischutz [link to original post]

*text prompt list under the readmore

This year will mark 10 years since the release of Dragon Age: Inquisition! In celebration of that anniversary and the game that gave us our first trans character, here is a prompt list - and dates - for any who would like to participate! All sorts of creative content is accepted so long as they are not A/I generated. (See examples below)

*If you want to portray Maevaris Tilani instead, that is also fine!

Please read the guidelines!

If you have any questions, reply to this post and I will do my best to answer :)

Prompt list:

1 — Anniversary 2 — Euphoria / Expression 3 — Casual / Formal 4 — Family / Love 5 — Respite / Fight 6 — Play / Satiate 7 — (Free space!)

Guidelines:

Use the tag: #kremweek2024 (@ this blog is fine too) — If you want to portray Maevaris Tilani instead of Krem, that is also welcome! Please @ me so I can rb :) For non-Tumblr folks that somehow got here: You may post submissions, please link your socials. You may choose one of two prompts in a day or do both. You may also combine as many prompts as you want from any or all of the days into a single work, just mention it somewhere.

Types of content allowed:

Illustration and writing are the most obvious forms of art allowed, but they're not the only ones! Literary arts fanfics, drabbles, poetry, plays, lengthy headcanon/meta posts (for headcanon and meta posts, minimum of 100 words+) Visual arts doodles, paintings, graphic design, photoshop memes, photography, animation, tiktok skits, abstract, fiber arts (embroidery, knitting, etc), ceramics Audio art fanmixes(curated playlists), original or cover songs Other crafts are also welcome! e.g. culinary, resin, woodworking, etc etc ..essentially, whatever type of art it is, I'll accept it so long as it falls within rules and is related to Krem or Maevaris :) For things that are more abstract, do include an explanation of your thought process on how it relates to Krem. E.g. you made Krem's Seheron Fish Wrap or Rice Pudding, take photos of your cooking, and post that (with the explanation that it is Krem's recipes) - that's an acceptable submission! You're allowed to explore different mediums everyday! You don't have to stick to one form of art for the whole week. I will be attempting to schedule reblogs in the 'prime time' for engagement, and in the interest of fairness, things like headcanon posts, fanmixes, and WIPs will not take priority in that time slot over fully rendered illustrations or complete fanfics. They will still be reblogged, but scheduled for other time slots.

Content Rules:

No A/I generated content. (Specifically GenAI content) As above, any and all forms of art is welcome. It must be human made, and by you. The whole point of working off a prompt is to explore a creative process, anyway - do yourself a favour and just enjoy making something! It doesn't have to be pretty! No reposting of other people's works. This must be your own creation. Obviously, no transphobic content. No harrassing others over their specific headcanons - be it in regards to any trait or quirks that come with being a person. People come in all sorts of wonderful variety, please respect that. In addition to above: No whitewashing, racism etc. Please note that Krem is not pale-skinned in canon, and I will not be reblogging content of him being portrayed as pale. 18+ works need to be labelled. On this blog, its tagged as "#adult art". Please add content warnings as appropriate. (E.g. portrayal of binding with bandages should have a warning label of "cw: unsafe binding", etc.) If your post/submission is lengthy, please insert a read more. This helps readability on the dashboard. Progress / WIPs are fine too!

General tips:

First and foremost, do what you are able to! Don't feel pressured to complete a full week if you need to take care of yourself first. Some people work on the prompts before the week even begins, and only post it day of. You are not required to do this, but if you really want to fill something for each day, this helps reduce stress day of.

Mod things:

The mod isn't from the Americas, so due to timezone differences, there may be a delay in reblogging people's works. Either way I will not reblog the moment that it's posted in order to screen properly. Posts will be queued between 30mins-1hr apart, if there are multiple entries being submitted at the same time. All submissions will also be requeued after a week for later perusal :)

[angstflayer-council]

July Drabble #8- One Step Forward

They were never strangers. 

In high school, Eddie watched as the sunshine boy who sat a few tables over from him during lunch grew into a King, and then he watched as he was dethroned with no fanfare, tumbling down from the pedestal as though he’d never been there at all. 

Steve knew of Eddie Munson. He heard his annual Cafeteria Table Speeches, watched from afar as he took in the kids Steve imagined needed to be taken in. Once or twice, he wished he was one of them. Eddie’s group of misfits looked comfortable, solid. No one was left in the dirt there. 

They knew of each other, but didn’t really know each other. 

After Steve graduated, Eddie found himself looking for Steve when he gave his yearly Speech. He found himself looking for Steve a lot, actually, and each time, he was more disappointed not to find him than the last. 

Eddie, too, crossed Steve’s mind frequently, more than he’d care to admit, and at times he didn’t care to admit— just Eddie’s ringed fingers when he was alone in bed, his hips twitching and heart pounding. 

Neither questioned it. It was fine. 

Until they found themselves forced together in a small, rundown boathouse. 

Until Steve watched Eddie jump into Lovers Lake and swing an oar hard enough to break it in half over a demobat. 

Until Eddie discovered that Steve was an alright guy and that maybe he did deserve to be treated like a King. 

—

They were never friends. 

After the battle was won, they found themselves in the same orbit— Steve, a satellite to Eddie’s moon. Eddie and Wayne stayed with Steve, Loch Nora having been spared. The rich really get all the luck, Wayne joked as they moved what was salvaged from the trailer into the otherwise empty house. 

Steve helped Eddie recover, changing his bandages and keeping track of medications. When he started walking again, he held onto Wayne with fingers like a vice grip wrapped around his uncle’s forearm and focused on Steve at the end of the hallway. For weeks, he shuffled towards Steve’s raised eyebrows, enthusiastic nods, and outstretched hands ready to catch him. 

Each day, Steve took one step backwards and Eddie took one more forward. 

Eventually, Eddie reached Steve at the end of the hallway. His fingers wrapped tightly around Steve’s hand and Steve wanted to kiss him. Realization slammed into him like a plate to the head, and all at once, Steve was holding the only hand he wanted to hold for the rest of his life. Eddie smiled, wide and bright, as he stood steady between Steve’s hand and Wayne’s arm. 

—

Many years later, when Eddie walked down an aisle lined with their closest friends and found family, Eddie only let go of his uncle’s arm when they reached Steve. He held onto them both, fingers tight just as he had in 1986. 

They were never strangers, nor were they ever friends. They were just waiting. 

[timechange]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 — out in the desert.

Martin remembers, with great clarity, the first time Citizen Brown took him to the “satellite office.” 

He still hadn’t quite gotten over the novelty of being in a car– as his assistant, he’d accompanied Citizen Brown on some of his rounds, of course, but he’d never been in one for this long– and he’d never been outside the walls of Hill Valley before. Almost as soon as they were out on the open road– and it was really open– he remembered his shoulders falling and taking in the deepest, biggest breath of the fresh air, the free air, he could. 

Then he’d remembered he was in Citizen Brown’s car– sitting next to him!– but when he looked back, an apology at the ready, Citizen Brown had just given him a smile.

“Just wait,” he’d assured, in that low, level tone of his, but with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “you haven’t seen the best part.” 

And he’d been right. The desert was breathtaking.

He’d never realized there were so many stars or noticed how rich the smell of sun and earth and life really was. The thunderstorms were electrifying and awe-inspiring, the days were long and hazy while nights were crisp and bright, and he could rest without needing to look over his shoulder, sleep without feeling eyes glaring at him from a fuzzy CRT screen, monitoring every move. 

It was perfect, especially now that they were hiding his guitar here, too. 

Out here, he could understand why Dave and Linda had left and never looked back, never came back for him in the three long years they’d been gone. If he and Citizen Brown didn’t have to go back– if Citizen Strickland wouldn’t come looking for them and spoil everything– Martin doesn’t think he would, either.

He smiles as he watches Doctor Brown’s reaction to seeing the secret lab, greeting all the inventions and tools like long lost friends. Evening is settling in and there’s a chill in the air, but Martin doesn’t mind; he just draws his Junior Brown Brigade letterman jacket tighter around himself and lets the warmth of the moment take care of the rest.  

When Doctor Brown seems to settle into a familiar rhythm, looking over Citizen Brown’s notes and muttering to himself, hand fisted into his hair, Martin feels the familiar itch in his fingers as he looks at his guitar in the corner. 

He feels the bounce in his toes, the melody unfurling in his head, the beat filling his chest and threatening to burst out any way it can if he doesn’t do something about it soon. He curls his hands into loose fists, flexing them in an attempt to be still and unobtrusive as he weighs his options. 

“Sir– I mean, Doctor Brown?” He grasps his left wrist behind his back, squeezing. “Would it, uh… Would it be okay if I practiced…?” 

Doctor Brown swivels around in his chair, surprised. Almost imperceptibly, as the situation registers, his jaw tightens, and Martin freezes, before the scientist’s expression morphs into one of concern and tenderness.

“You don’t have to ask my permission, Marty,” he returns, kindly, “Where I’m from, you play your music all the time! It helps both of us think. Anyway, I could do with something with a little life in it after that hellish, egotistical panopticon we’ve just escaped from.”  

“Something with a little life in it,” Martin hums, smiling as just the right song pops into his head. “Alright. I got it.”

He grabs the guitar, flicking the amp on, tapping his foot in time before beginning a bouncy riff, fingers strumming the strings as if it’s second nature. As his hand shifts up and down the fingerboard, something inside him knits back together.

“Better stop dreamin’ of the quiet life, ‘cause it’s the one we’ll never know,” 

Before he can stop himself, he’s singing quietly, the lyrics spilling out of him.

“And quit runnin’ for the runaway bus ‘cause those rosy days are few, and…”

The chords become more confident, his hand remembering a dance he’d thought he’d forgotten the steps to.

“Stop apologizing for the things you’ve never done,”  Proud and more than a little taken aback as his voice soars, he grins at Doctor Brown, who, to his amazement, grins back, tapping his foot along to the beat.

“‘Cause time is short and life is cruel and it’s up to us to change 

This town called Malice!” 

Martin imagines his music, now free, filling the lab, filling the desert, the notes reaching all the way up to the thousands of stars in their sky and the millions and billions beyond. 

[ronearoundblindly]

Steve Rogers One-Shot List

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist]

[Steve Rogers Series List]

Romance 🔥 || Smut 🦆 || Author Fave 🍀 || Angst ⛈️ || Fluff 🌼 || Dark Fic 🌘 || *** denotes work for all ages

Mr. & Mrs. (AU with agent!Steve x mob!reader) ⛈️🔥

In Sickness and In Health (longterm illness comfort) *** 🌼⛈️🔥

The Game (Nomad!Steve smut) 🔥🦆

Beg For My Mercy (defiant!Steve x gn!god!reader) ⛈️🦆🌘

Super-Human Resources (Steve x older!reader) 🌼⛈️🔥🍀

Old Dog, New Tricks (soft!Steve x inexperienced!reader) 🌼🔥🦆 Your Dog, His Tricks (follow-up) ⛈️🔥🦆

Sweet Charity (drabble; Steve likes your laugh) *** 🌼

Mastery (Steve x artist!reader) *** 🌼

Succubus!Reader (1, 2, 3) 🌼🔥🦆 Vampire!Reader 🌼🔥 Shapeshifter!Reader 🌼⛈️🔥

Steve x short male!reader (headcanon) *** 🌼🔥

Ties (long-haired!reader x Steve learning to braid) *** 🌼

Period Comfort *** 🌼 not-Baker!Steve (cake decorating) *** 🌼🔥 

Warning Signs (after-mission grief/comfort) ⛈️ (semi🌘) Yield (follow up) 🌼⛈️🔥

Not Today (Steve x workaholic!reader) *** ⛈️🌼

Lloyd Hansen x reader x Steve 🔥🦆

Dirty Doodle (Stucky x artist!reader drabble) 🌼🦆

Midnight Kiss (New Year's Eve party) 🌼🔥

A Kiss On A Scar (Valentine's prompt) *** 🌼🔥

I'm So, So Sorry (a kiss as an apology; Nomad steve) 🌼🦆

A Dark Day & A Bright Night (a kiss where it hurts) ⛈️🌼🍀

Dirty Headcanons: Alone Time 🌼🔥🦆 Bondage and Foodplay ⛈️🌼🔥

Lease (Steve x best friend!roommate!reader) *** 🌼🔥

Steve is tired (bday ask) ***⛈️🌼

He Needs the Calories (4th of July crack fic) ***🌼

Entwined (bondage w/Nomad) ⛈️🔥🦆

Let Me See You (1940s!skinny!Steve) ⛈️🔥🦆

Big Pharma (sex pollen) ⛈️🔥🦆🌼

To Tire Is Human (cooking and loving care) ***⛈️🌼

This Lonely Place (poetic drabble) ⛈️🔥🦆

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[bg-sparrow]

mcfly july 2021 || day 2 Arcade Games at 7-Eleven

ii.

Wild Gunman was a wild success when the 7-Eleven on the corner of John F. Kennedy Drive decided to swap out Donkey Kong for one of the popular “light gun” games.

Marty couldn’t get enough of it. With every quarter he deposited, his low-key love of cowboys and proficient hand-eye coordination paired well, quickly ascending him to CRACK SHOT status.

But the top of the leaderboard eluded him.

“JGV” sat at number one.

Doc peered over Marty’s shoulder when happening upon him there one afternoon.

“Any closer?”

“No,” Marty growled at the screen.

Doc smirked.

“I’m sure you’ll get there.”

[gluion]

the perfect pair ➵ masterlist

esports player!kim sunwoo x esports player!reader

being a woman in the esports league is hard, but dealing with cocky kim sunwoo is unmatched. with the valorant champions tour about to commence, you two are forced to team up to retrieve the trophy. what will be tested—team morale or your patience around sunwoo?

general genre/warnings ➵ enemies to lovers, afab reader (they/them pronouns), slow burn, slight angst, crack, fake relationships (you two pretend to be friends) sexual tension, smut aka porn with plot (just know sunwoo whines), esports team au specifically during valorant champions tour, misogynistic & sexist remarks and behaviors, drinking, pet names, bets are made, a lot of gamer lingo, one bed trope™, also probably wrong format and flow of vct but who gaf!

word count ➵ currently 10.5k words, expected to be 20-40k (sorry i cant help it + vct is pretty long)

playlist ➵ yuck by charli xcx // stop talking by day6 // constant repeat by charli xcx // happier than ever by billie eilish // take a hint by victoria justice & elizabeth gillies // jealous by nick jonas // useless by omar apollo // somebody else by the 1975 // and july by dean fy. heize // talk by beabadoobee // teeth by 5sos // motive by ariana grande ft. doja cat // i wanna be your slave by måneskin // cologne by beabadoobee // a little death by the neighbourhood // the perfect pair by beabadoobee // babydoll by dominic fike // bet u wanna by sabrina carpenter// not in the same way by 5sos // just friends by keshi // sugar by men i trust // disaster by conan grey // shouldn’t couldn’t wouldn’t by niki // it’s you by zayn // die for you by the weeknd ft. ariana grande // flash forward by le sserafim // plot twist by niki

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu @tbzhub @stealanity @wooluv09 @deobi0412 @untilsunset @hiefisch @blue-rainydays @maessseongs @wonuroyal @sunkitti

a/n ➵ i made this masterlist post because i dont think tumblr will be able to handle all the parts i need to pump out :’) my headcanon of sunwoo being a shit gamer will forever live, but i’ll make an exception for this story <3 major shoutout to @shegotthewoobies for guiding me throughout the process <3 lots of love always to my val duo for life! do reblog and leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

guides

➵ the guide: “welcome to valorant.”

your official guide to “the perfect pair” universe, from gaming lingo all the way to vct timeline

➵ the players: “wáchale güey, my crew is coming through.”

your official guide to the main characters of “the perfect pair” universe

official parts

➵ one: “ew, is that sunwoo over there? 저리 꺼져.”

being a woman in the esports league is hard, but dealing with cocky kim sunwoo is unmatched. with the valorant champions tour about to commence, you two are forced to team up to retrieve the trophy. what will be tested—team morale or your patience around sunwoo?

➵ two: “okay kids, we’ve got company. pretend you all get along.”

➵ three: “sunwoo, we are the perfect pair.”

extras/drabbles

number and names of chapters are subject to change!