#monster prom fluff

[pumpkinsomniac]

I wish to be judged

throw your insults at me

[tristomisto]

So I’ve started writing my first Fanfiction in a while. It’s called Tentacles & Glasses! It’s a self-insert of my self with my f/o Zoe from Monster Prom. I had this idea in a dream about a little overarching plot and mystery and am loving writing it. Right now there are currently six chapters on Fanfiction.net, working on getting an AO3 account to get it on there as well. I’ve rated it as M but it more than likely will end up a T rating when I’m finished. I think it’ll mostly be fluff, I’m not sure how spicy it will be.

My favorite ship of Vicky & Vera also make an appearance. (The scene above absolutely sold me). I may play around with more of that in the story too. While I do have an ending in mind for mine and Zoe’s story, I do love Monster Prom and definitely might write more fluff for it in the future. Feel free to message me about any and all things related to the game or fic, it’s literally one of my favorite things ever. I also get to make stupid memes about it with my friends like this one:

Just a very fun self-indulgent project that brings me lots of joy. Thanks for reading and stopping by my blog. Hope you have a wonderful day <3

[rxttenfish]

monster prom reanimated except its just all of the ROs + color squad holding miranda up like one of those pictures of anacondas

[th1s1sf0ry0ubr0]

A Little Phobia Never Hurt

Oz/Calculester

Summary: Calculester has a phobia on his shoulder for the first time and Oz worries he caused it.

Content warning: Illusions to/mentions of panic attacks

Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a happy ending, fluff

---

Since Calculester gained sentience, he’d wanted to feel real emotions. So, when Oz came to talk with Calc and saw a phobia setting on the robot's shoulder, he was conflicted. On one hand, Oz was ecstatic that Calc was showing genuine emotion and thoughts. He couldn’t have a phobia without that. On the other hand, he was absolutely horrified. Calculester, his beloved, had grown so scared of something that a phobia had formed, and it might very well be because of the time Oz had spent with Calc.

Had he infested Calc with his fear? Did he have such an influence over the environment that he had never noticed before? It was entirely plausible and even probable. He was the embodiment of terror, fear itself. How couldn’t he spread fear into others without even trying, without noticing at all? Oz felt a terror of his own as his that grew tight and his breathing constricted. Panic lit every nerve of his on fire. He had to leave, now.

Calculester had noticed Oz enter the room, freeze, and promptly run out of the room at full speed. There was no reason why, upon a scan of the environment. No common predators were within the vicinity, and nothing that Oz had previously reacted in such a way to seemed to be anywhere near enough to insight such a reaction. It fried Calc’s circuit to try and wrap his head around what the cause of his boyfriend’s reaction could have been. The best course of action, Calc deduced, was to follow Oz to the secondary location he was now in and find more information there.

Oz sat in his room, on the floor with his back to the bed, holding his whips hair in a tight grip as he rocked back and forth. It was a little important display of monster emotion compared to the way his physical form warped and lost shape as panic blinded Oz’s mind and sense. How could he have put that on his partner, the only one he had ever truly loved in his timeless existence? He thought that, because Calc was made of machinery and wire rather than tendon and flesh that he wouldn’t have to worry about this. He thought that he wouldn’t infect Calc with paranoia and fear, with himself, as he apparently had.

Oz hadn’t even looked at what Calc’s phobia was before he was fleeing the scene. What had he made Calculester scared of? Water? Humans? Being damaged beyond repair? Maybe he was fearful of Oz’s true identity. Perhaps Calc was petrified of what Oz could do or even what he had done. Could he even know that? Probably. Oz knew Calc was smart and growing more connected and intelligent by the day. It was only a matter of time before his conscious developed enough that Calc recognized Oz for the abomination he was and left him. As Oz thought more and more about just what the phobia could be and what this meant, his physical form grew warped and spread out until he was a dark fog filling the room with only the subconscious suggestion that the fog was a predator, a source of danger so old it was a primal urge to steer clear.

Calc had knocked on the door three different times, receiving no answer each time. It was customary for monsters to wait to be invited into someone’s personal area but customs only went so far. Calc was worried for Oz and what he could have run from, his screen displaying “:s” as he waited on bated ‘breath’ to hear a response back from his partner. After a few seconds, a long enough time to be considered a reasonable response window but not so long as to suggest that there would be no further actions taken, Calc moved his hand to the doorknob and twisted to reveal Oz’s room. Or well, what should be Oz’s room but seems to be more occupied with Oz himself than any furnishings or decorations.

Calc stepped forward, into Oz and his room, shutting the door behind him before he gave an explanation as to his breach of typical social norms. “I apologize for my intrusion into your dwelling, dear, but I can’t help but share my concern for you. Your reaction upon entering the room was out of character, given there were no harbingers of imminent danger. If you will excuse the further intrusion, what was the reason?” Calc could see and feel Oz’s panic as he was engulfed. He knew Oz was on the verge, if not currently having a full panic attack.

He wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to comfort his beloved but 1.) Oz did not currently have the physical form to do so and 2.) Calc was unsure if that would increase or decrease Oz’s panic. He couldn’t help but to be a little more robotic, formal and tight as he engaged in moments like these. It had worked in his favor before and had statistical backup if the evidence of this method’s effectiveness were ever to be taken into consideration. Calc hated it. It reminded him of his origin and just how un-monsterlike he was, how much he didn’t fit in. But for Oz, a monster he could say with certainty that he loved to the best of his understanding, he would revert just a little, just enough to help.

“Friend Oz,” It was a term Calc had not used in a very long time, “It would be advised in states such as the one you are experiencing to focus on a singular object and describe its characteristics.” Oz’s presence thrummed in a panicked frenzy but no response was given beyond what Calc could only assume was Oz’s breathing. “I suggest this photo taken of us at the time of prom. Would it be of assistance if I started?” Calc hated being so tight and precise with his wording, granted he always spoke formally compared to his monster friends but this mode he could slip into was something entirely else. It wasn’t monster, it was AI. It was how a computer would speak. He pushed the thought aside and waited for a response.

It took nearly a minute before a warped and echoed “…yes.” Reverberated around the room and through Calc’s systems. That was the thing about Oz speaking. He didn’t have a mouth, really. Not every day at least. His speaking and the words he said were more of a concept that everyone around him understood. It really helped with language barriers.

“Of course.” Calc started and looked at the photo. It really was nice, and it reminded him of many fond memories from that night and the week leading up to it. “You are wearing a very complementary orange suit in this photograph.”

“Tie…” Oz’s voice echoed the labored tone, sounding as if the man had just run a marathon in a minute.

“Correct. You are wearing a tie in this photo, and I am wearing a bow tie. The sign behind the two of us reads ‘Monster Prom Night’ in the photo.”

“You’re…” Oz seemed to be just a bit more collected, evident in both the tone of his voice and the growing concentration of his essence on the floor near the edge of his bed. “You’re smiling.”

Calc relaxed just a bit. Oz was coming back to him and he was a step closer to being able to hold his love again. “That’s right. I’m smiling in the photo. The crowd behind us is partying heavily.”

Even in his breathy, slowly declining but still prevalent panic, Oz gave a short laugh. “It was… a- a… wild party… that night.” It took him a little while to get it out, but a full sentence was a vast improvement from the silence Calc had first received.

Calc could feel the pixels in his screen shift into the slightest hint of a smile. Oz began to become a recognizable form rather than a dark fog, and Calc could make out his tense shoulders raising and lowering rapidly with Oz’s frantic breaths, as well as the vague shape of Oz’s legs tucked into his chest.

“Yes, it was quite the party.” Calc was smiling a bit more now and moved closer to sit next to Oz’s forming figure.

“You- you looked really good in that suit…” Calc smiled at that. Even when Oz wasn’t really ok, he was still himself. Calc was glad. Oz was nearly formed by now, save for a few details and the phobias that typically sat on his shoulders. It was as good a time as any to ask what happened, Calc figured. If he waited too long he may never know.

“Oz…” Calc started carefully, not wanting to send his beloved spiraling again “What happened that caused this…? It’s ok if you don’t want to share, of course, I just-” “You’re ok Cal… I just- I was going to go see you and… well, I saw a phobia on your shoulder. I think I’m spreading fear to you, somehow…” Oz, whose features were fully formed and now appeared normal once more, tucked his face away in his knees to avoid having to look at his boyfriend.

“Has that happened before?”

“Well… no, but-“

“Then why would you think that it would suddenly start now?” Oz didn’t have a response to that. He knew Calc was right. If he had never, in his timeless existence, infected someone with fear unintentionally, it probably wasn’t going to start now. That didn’t stop him from worrying. “Can you still see it?” This caused Oz to look at Calc for the first time since he’d been in Oz’s room.

“Yeah…”

“Do you know what my phobia is?” Oz turned to look more directly at the dark little mass on Calc’s shoulder. He listened to its whispering, his eyes shooting wide open as his head darted to look at Calc.

“You’re worried that I’ll leave you? Calc… why?” It was Calc’s turn to shift his gaze away from his partner, mostly in shame because he knew it was an irrational fear. He held himself in his arms, rubbing his hands on his biceps as a form of comfort as he spoke. He wasn’t sure if Oz was up to physical touch, being so recently in an episode.

“You’re a monster that is as old as the universe and will never die. You have an amazing personality and style, and you’re all around the best partner everyone wishes they had. I feel like, one day, you’ll realize that you can do much better than me and you’ll leave.” The silence that hung in the air after Calc’s confession was thick with unsaid thoughts and a thousand questions. Oz shifted to fully face Calc, gently grasping the side of his screen and turning it to make Calc look at Oz again.

“Oz, darling. I don’t want someone better than you. I’ll never want someone better than you. I just want you. You’re funny, incredibly kind, accepting, and you genuinely care for everything around you regardless of if it’s alive or not.” Oz rested his forehead on Calc’s screen gently. “You are perfect Calc, and I love you exactly as you are.” It took Calc a moment to process what his partner had said, feeling like his processors had just stopped working suddenly.

At some point, the two wound up in a tight but comfortable hug, still on the floor of Oz’s bed. It spoke every word of passion the two hadn’t said and made up for every disagreement the two would ever have. Then, sometime after, Calc and Oz wound up cuddling on Oz’s bed. Neither knew who decided to move or who was the first to get up. The heavy emotions of the last little while left the two feeling both content and drained. It was no surprise that they fell asleep shortly after getting in bed. When they wake up, Calc and Oz will find themselves in the same position in the morning, holding each other in an entanglement of endless love, and perhaps they’ll both decide to lay there for just a bit longer to savor the moment with just their partner, away from the rest of the world.

[junovuno]

||𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧

Hii! I'm Juno and I'm here to tell you 🫵 that my requests are now open! Very exciting I know. What I write will be around 1000-2000 words long (or longer depending on the prompt) and I'll also be eternally grateful to get rid of writers block!

||𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 ��𝐨𝐫

☆Genshin Impact

☆Harry Potter (J.K. Rowling sucks)

☆A3

☆PJO series

☆Monster Prom

☆CSM

☆Obey Me

☆Tears of Themis

☆And maybe some original content too!

||𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 ✔︎

☆Any gender of character or reader!

☆Everything x reader

☆Fluff. All the fluff in the world.

☆Romance

☆Platonic

☆Found family or family aus

☆Angst

☆Hopefully stuff that will make me cry writing it

||𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐙𝐨𝐧𝐞 𖨆

☆Character x Character (maybe if I know the ship haha)

☆NSFW! I'll probably write it in the future so you can of course request it! I might not be as likely to write for it though haha

☆Gore writing

☆Yanderes (only if it isn't super weird)

||𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 ☢︎︎

☆Anything illegal like S/A, incest, that kinda stuff

☆Anything that promotes hate

☆Really weird age gaps

☆Anything that I find out of my comfort zone in general!

||𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚

☆I might not get everyone, and please feel free to send another request if I miss yours!

☆I might take 1-3 days to write depending on motivation!

☆If you like what you see, consider following!

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Alot of my high school experience was ruined because my life was rough, i have a request that maybe eddie knows reader didnt get to experience things she wanted to, sneaking around at school to make out, hiding hickeys, a guy sneaking through her window to take her on an adventure, being told in the middle of the night to meet them in the woods so they could fuck, was crying instead of getting fingered on prom night ect so he wants to make the reader feel special and plans all these exciting things for her and does it in a way that feels natural? (Lets be honest eddie doesnt have to be a teenager anymore, he'll crawl through your window regardless)

Request by anon

18+, mdni. Fluff.

❤️

Eddie had a plan. It involved you- his princess.

There was a list that he had made of all of the things you didn't experience in high school that he was determined for you to experience now.

You had confessed all of the things to him a few nights ago and he couldn't stop thinking about it. It kept niggling in his brain until he couldn't take it. He had to do something for you.

Most of your high school life was spent fighting interdimensional monsters with Steve and the rest of Hawkins heroes. No wonder you weren't able to have a normal high school experience.

There were also a few family troubles that caused you to be stressed throughout high school as well.

And so the list was born. Some things were easy, like sneaking around and making out. Granted it wasn't sneaking around and making out all over school like you wished to experience but it was something.

None of your friends knew that the two of you were together, the relationship had only come about after the upside down was finally destroyed and you and everyone else in Hawkins could have peace from all the spooky shit that had been happening the last few years.

❤️

The first experience on the list was just about to begin, Surprise you by climbing through your window and Take you on an adventure.

He was currently trying not to fall off your roof as he made his way to your window.

He smiles when he sees you reading on your bed and gently taps your window. You peer up and a smile caresses your face. "Eddie!" you rush over to open the window and he clambers inside.

"Sweet princess, will you join Eddie the brave on a new quest... a quest for adventure?" you giggle and nod looking delighted.

"Of course my knight" you take his hand and he gestures to the window. He was hinting for the two of you to make your exit out of the window. "Eddie, we can't. What if we fall?" he grins and kisses you.

"Come on sweetheart. This is an adventure after all" he's practically bouncing on the balls of his feet to get started and you couldn't help but feel endeared by his excitement.

"Okay, let's go" he grins and bows to you, then helps you climb out of the window and climb off the roof.

"Where are we going to go Ed's?" you're curious about where exactly the two of you could have an adventure when it was almost midnight.

"That's the point of an adventure sweetheart, we just see where the night takes us, now onwards" he holds your hand all the way as the two of you walk into the night.

...

It's maybe a few hours later when you sneak back into your room feeling flushed and giddy, you collapse on the bed and giggle at how amazing the night was.

You're so exhausted that you fall asleep instantly but not without one final thought that tonight was one of your wishes to experience. If you weren't so tired you would think your boyfriend was up to something using what you told him.

You dismiss the thought and succumb to sleep.

❤️

For the next few days Eddie ticked off a few more things on the list but tries to make it look like they are occurring in a natural way.

Giving you the best prom night- of course there wasn't another prom that you and him could go to but Eddie had talked Steve into throwing an impromptu prom themed party and everyone had to dress in formal wear, drink punch and dance to cheesy as fuck songs; that Eddie would only listen to for you.

To sober up he took you outside where the two of you danced under the stars and the glow of the moonlight.

"I love this. This is amazing Eddie" you murmur as you rest your head on his chest and sway to the music. He kisses your forehead and a Cheshire cat grin forms on his face.

"What do you say that I give you the proper prom experience sweetheart?" He waggles his eyebrows, you giggle and swat him playfully.

"Let's try and sneak past Steve" you whisper and he gapes, clutching his heart in mock horror.

"I feel like I'm a bad influence on you princess" he winks and then the two of you snuck upstairs to one of Steve's guest bedrooms and Eddie drove you wild with his fingers, you clenching so tightly around him that Eddie almost came himself. (The two of you didn't leave the bedroom that night)

Of course if he ended up crossing off another item on the list which was to have a little fun in the woods near Steve's house then that was no one's business but you and Eddie.

"What's that on your neck?" Steve asks as you and Eddie join the others for breakfast, pretending that you've both been fast asleep. Nancy and Robin exchanged knowing looks, Robin shaking her head in amusement as you try to unsuccessfully cover your hickey.

"What does it look like dingus, I know it's been a while since Brenda but you remember a hickey right?" she teases him and he rolls his eyes at her.

"Of course I do, I just didn't realise that her and Eddie were uh...together" he shrugs and Robin snorts.

"Steve, they've been together for three months" at learning this Steve makes a little oh face then goes back to making pancakes.

Nancy delicately pulls something out of your hair and holds out a bright orange leaf. "Busy this morning huh?" you exchange looks with Eddie and both of you erupt with laughter.

Eddie meanwhile is pleased as punch that he's managed to tick all of the things off the list. Maybe he should write a new one?

After all he's never had sex in a pool before and Harrington's one is just right outside...

🤭❤️❤️

[polarisjisung]

PROM DATE

synopsis: when you tell your best friend that you don't have a date for senior prom, you never thought you'd also end up telling him why

wc: 1.1k

pairings: best friend!mark lee x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: like one cuss word maybe

notes: I saw this cute kid on tiktok taking his best friend to prom and my mind instantly went to mark

Insane.

To you, Mark Lee genuinely looked as though he'd gone insane.

His wide eyes bulging from their sockets, hair slicked back with a hand atop his head, mouth agape.

"Dude, you're playing" he confirms another time, and you don't understand what about the situation seems so difficult to grasp for the older, not when the words were spilling from your mouth in front of him.

"No mark, I'm not, I don't have a date" you deadpan and his eyes physically can't grow any wider if they tried to, so instead he begins shaking his head frantically, and shock isn't an expression mark wears regularly but he certainly wears it with full meaning, you realise.

You didn't have a date to prom. It was surprising to most, you had no shortage of people asking you out, no negative attributes to stop people asking you out, no reason for you to politely decline them the way you did, it made no sense to anyone, not your parents who simply didn't understand your logic or your friends who didn't see why you'd turn down the hottest guy in your year, not your best friend, mark, who didn't understand why you of all people didn't have a date to prom.

"Like you really don't have a date? like seriously?" you'd always been impatient and as your eyes bore into his mark puts his hands up in defeat

"okay okay I got it"

He seems tense for a moment, worried, and you know that expression, the one where his brows furrow and his lips turn downwards at the corners so very slightly

"You look constipated" you tease, mark doesn't seem to take notice however, lost in his own world, until you lightly smack the crown of his head.

"What?" he squeaks, staring up through the strands of brown hair that cover his eyes.

Cute

"don't stress markie" you take a seat on your bed next to him, "I'm happy without a date" and mark searches for anything in your voice that proves otherwise, but he can't find a single ounce of hesitance

You giggle at him from across the bed, standing up and marching over to your wardrobe

Mark remembers his prom last year, the one kid who didn't show up with a date ripped to shreds for being a loser, still famous in his uni life for being the nerd who couldn't score a date to prom— he knew your case was a little different, you were well liked at school, but people would talk no doubt

"You can't go without a date," he sighs, the hand in his hair now holding one of your decorative fluffy pillows painfully tight

"yes I can mark" you don't turn around, searching for the long plastic protected dress in your closet.

"people talk a lot of shit, I don't want you to be the brunt of their jokes y/n" he's serious, you can tell from the way he's not using all those mark words he'd use to address you, how he uses your name

"i don't want to go with anyone else, though," you pout, quickly upturning your lips when you find the baby blue dress at the back of your closet

Mark chooses to ignore it, the part of your sentence that awakens the disgusting feeling of the green eyed monster inside of him at just the mention of you having someone who you liked, he certainly didn't need details

"Come on, you know what people are like"

"yeah mark, and I dont care, they'll talk their shit regardless, if not today then another day, its none of their business if I have a date or not, that's all up to me"

He doesn't respond, trying to figure you out, why you're so defensive all of a sudden when, just as you said, you usually didn't give a shit what people had to say, mark included on the matters you'd already made your mind up for

"besides" you're whispering, hoping that Mark only hears your words if they'll end the way you want. "If you want me to have a date so bad, why don't you take me?"

Mark freezes, the pillow in his hands falling to the floor and in the reflection of your floor to ceiling mirror you notice two spots of bright red spreading across his cheeks and over his ears.

He heard you, that was for sure.

"don't ask things of me that you don't want me to do" he scoffs, bright and beady eyes turned dark in a second, when suddenly mark, who'd never been noticeably taller than you seems to tower over your figure.

"and who's to say I don't want you to be my date" you have no fear left in you, you'd hidden it for years, cried yourself to sleep the night mark had taken someone else as his date to prom, sent him those anonymous letters every valentines day, watched as he played volleyball with the guys on the beach with his wet hair matted to his forehead, heart thumping at every sight of him "whos to say you're not the reason I haven't said yes to a single promposal"

"You don't mean that," marks usual excited, enthusiastic voice is gone, a soft tone coming from somewhere within his throat now replacing his carefree way of speaking

"I don't want a date if its not you"

Your own tone drips with sincerity, so genuine, so tender, so sweet that he doesn't know how to respond, not with those eyes of yours staring so expectantly into his, not when he feels the heat of your breath against his neck, not when you take his hands into your own, interlocking your fingers as you flutter your eyelashes with each blink

"I think I love you" he spits out, and this time he freezes in place, not a thought in his mind until your voice breaks through his trance

"Enough to take me to prom?" you smile, those pearly whites that had his heart skipping a beat on perfect show as you pressed your forehead against his

"Enough to take you to a thousand proms"

[jnnul]

[9:12 a.m.]

gif creds: @jaeyxns

PAIRING ▸ husband!jay park x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, domestic love, husband!au, parents!au, a snippet of what i think jay's life would look like in like 15 years

WARNINGS ▸ mentions of (past/others') pregnancy, uhh i think that's it

WORD COUNT ▸ 1k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ nothing super big but i was writing something else and then suddenly i was writing husband!jay. not sure either <3

"good morning, my love," your husband says from behind you, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as he goes about fixing himself a mug of coffee.

"good morning, jay," you say with a smile, flipping the omelette in the pan to ensure both sides were well done before then flipping it into the plate next to the stove.

"when did you get home last night? ria, danny, and i missed you," jay says, taking a seat at the barstool at the counter so that he could be in the same space as you.

you turn to him, only to see him already staring at you as though you had hung the sun itself in the sky. you smile, sliding the plate over so that he could start eating before your rowdy children could come and fight their father for breakfast.

"i think around midnight. i'm sorry i had to miss barbie night," you say with a pout, focused on cracking the next egg in the pan carefully.

"oh don't worry about it. is your friend alright?" jay asks, getting out of his seat to grab the bottle of ketchup from the fridge. you nod absentmindedly, mentally trying to track the number of eggs you needed to feed your hungry little monsters (who were still sound asleep) and yourself and jay.

"yeah. in fact, it turns out that she's pregnant!" you exclaim, and jay can't help but smile at the excitement in your voice. "it would explain the sudden flu-like symptoms."

jay offers you a bite of his omelette as you rush around the kitchen. you accept it happily, giving him a thumbs up as you hurry to flip the next omelette.

"i had a feeling from a couple of weeks ago, honestly. i just didn't want to say anything in case it wasn't something that her and her boyfriend wanted," you explain and jay nods in agreement.

"especially since he's in the army. it's a tough decision. i mean we were married for two years before we even thought of danny," jay says and you smile, nostalgia filling the air.

"do you ever miss that? the honeymoon phases and all of the romantic stuff that we used to do before the kids?" you ask, strangely nervous about jay's answer.

jay ponders for a moment before shaking his head no, finishing off the last of his omelette cleanly.

"no. i mean our life might be a lot less 'romantic' and a lot more chaotic because of ria and danny but there's no place i'd rather be than with my kids and my beautiful, smart, and amazing wife," jay says, getting up to accept the next omelette. he sets down his now refilled plate, wrapping his arms around your waist and rocking the two of you side to side.

"i know. honestly, our teenage years were nice. what, with the sneaking out of the house and the awkward prom pictures and everything but this is perfect. barbie nights and spending time with my perfect husband and my little angels?" you sigh, contended, as jay hums and rests his chin on your shoulder.

"keep saying things like that and we're going to have to add to the list of angels running around the house," jay says, his voice deep and full of promise. you clear your throat, a sudden heat rushing up your spine, about to somehow refute his statement when you hear the telltale signs of little feet padding down the stairs and you just barely manage to push jay off of you in time for danny and ria to come down the stairs.

"mama! dad! i'm hungry! i already brushed my teeth! ria didn't so she's stinky stinky but my teeth are sparkly," danny says, rushing up to jay to show off his pearly white teeth.

ria whines in protest, clamoring with all of her five year old might to show her father her clean teeth as well. "daddy, dandan's lying! i brushed my teeth! even all the way in the back!"

"baby, i believe you but remember what i told you? that dandan's gotta watch you brush your teeth just to make sure you're doing it right?" jay says gently, lifting his daughter up to press a kiss to her cheek, laughing when his nine year old son pouts and rushes to your side instead.

"mama, why doesn't dad say 'good job' even though i brushed my teeth?" danny says, fisting your skirt with a heartbroken tone that tugs at your heartstrings and you turn around to fix jay with a glare.

"dandan, good job buddy! i'm so proud of you! in fact, i'm so proud of you that i want you to have the first omelette," jay says, conceding his omelette to danny and ruffling his hair.

your son is easily appeased by the affections of his father and takes his seat at the counter to eat happily and jay gives you a coy wink before pressing another kiss to your forehead.

"let me take my princess to brush her teeth - again," jay adds on at the end when he sees the protest bubbling up in ria's eyes. "you make sure my buddy gets to eat as many omelettes as he wants, okay?"

"daddy! be nice to mommy! you have to say please!" ria scolds jay, pointing her little finger in her father's face.

"yeah! dad, remember a gentleman always says please and thank you to his lady," danny says with a mouthful of omelette and you abandon your post to scoop up your son in a loving embrace.

"oh my god, he's growing up! you used to teach him how to read and now he's telling you how to be a gentleman; soon enough, he'll be telling that to his own kids," you cry out and jay rolls his eyes playfully.

"oh ew! mama, no thanks," danny says, crinkling his nose and making such a funny expression that you and jay can't help but laughing, causing danny and ria to laugh as well.

and your heart is so full. so full because this isn't just today's antics but the beautiful reality you get to experience for the rest of your life.

everything is perfect.

[cheynovak]

Crush Part 3

Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N) &  Sam Winchester (platonic)  

Warnings: Fluff, sexual tension, implied smut, alcohol, trauma, nothing too extreme,  

This story might not follow the SPN timeline.  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

Words:  4458

Short recap of part 2: 

Y/N is a high school crush/friend of Sam, when they were 16 y/o they attended the same school for a while. Sam spends his entire time hanging out with her, trying to ask her to prom, only one problem, Y/N likes Dean. Now years later Dean gets out of hell and decided he wanted Y/N in his life, but desperately trying to hold her away from hunting.  

But how long will that work out?  

Please check out my masterlist for more stories.

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Jump forward in time.  

Y/N and Dean are an item for about a year now. Since the brothers were out hunting a lot of the time it still felt pretty new to both of them. Still learning about each other when they were together. Often feeling it was a long-distance relationship, but they were determent to make it work.  

Y/N felt the bed moving beside her. She turned around opening one eye slightly. “What time is it?” she asked while she saw Dean sitting on the bed, taking of his pants before crawling in bed with her. “Too early to get up yet.” He said wrapping his arm around her. “Go back to sleep sweetheart.” He whispered while giving her a small peck on her temple.  

Y/N knew how much Dean needed their quality time together after a hunt. So, she just nested her face against him, listening to his breath getting heavier until he fell asleep. She stayed a little longer enjoying the embrace of her boyfriend before getting up.  

She made a routine of getting up before Bobby and making sure he had some decent breakfast to start the day. She would clean a little but wouldn’t make the mistake of touching his books and replacing them. Only this morning she had to be move quieter than usual, since Sam was sleeping on the couch.  

Bobby had already cleaned out the guest bedroom for Y/N, because he thought a woman shouldn’t sleep on a couch. But for the boys he was a little tougher. It was indeed pretty early, so instead of starting to make a noise with pots and pans and probably waking up her best friend, Y/N decided to go to the store. For a moment she was tempted to take baby with her, but she didn’t want to give Dean a nervous breakdown if he sees she is gone, so she took bobby’s old car instead. Knowing he wouldn’t mind (as much).  

She walked outside: “Morning Baby, sorry, other time beautiful.”  she was apologising to the car for not driving it. Like Dean would even let her.  

By the time Y/N rolled into town the stores just opened. She liked shopping this early, part from a few school kids there was no rush. As Y/N strolled through the store she heard two teenagers, not older than 15 years, talk. “Oh my god! You are such a Sam girl! Don’t you realise he is a nerd?” - “Maybe but he is sooo cute and tall. I like a smart man with a troubled past.” Ha, Y/N though, looks like all Sam’s in this town are all tall, cute, smart and troubled.  

“Let me guess you are a Dean girl?” - “Yep! Strong older more experience. With monsters and girls.” Both girls started to giggle. Y/N stopped walking being flabbergasted, monsters? Girls? “Hey, eh hi girls?” The blond tall girl and short brunet turned around. “I just overheard you guys talking, about monster... and boys?” She couldn’t believe her saying this. “Yeah! We are reading a novel.” The blond girl answered, “Supernatural” 

“It’s about these two brothers who fight monsters.” - “Really? Can I see it.” They handed her their copies. “Unbelievable.” Y/N mumbled while reading a paragraph. “Incredible isn’t it.” The brunet said. “Where did you buy this?” Y/N asked while handing their book back. “At the bookstore a crossed from here, this is the third book.” - “Ok, thanks.”  

Y/N finished her groceries and practically ran to the bookstore. She asked for the “supernatural series.” and bought all of them immediately. By the time she got home all three men were awake. “What took you so long?” Dean asked while taking the bags out of her hands. “I eh, went to the bookstore.” - “What, has Bobby not enough reading material?” Sam joked.  

“No, it’s not that, I was at the store and heard two kids talk about monsters and stuff and it turned out there are actual books out there with you guys in it!” Y/N turned holding one of the boos showing it to the guys, who didn’t seem to be as surprised as she was. “Yeah, we know.” Sam said rubbing his neck. “What do you mean you know.”  

“We know, Chuck writes those, he is a prophet of the lord.” Dean filled her in. “So, you mean you guys knew this and didn’t bother to tell me? Why?” - “It’s bullshit.” Dean grabbed the book out of her hands. “Please tell me you just bought this one.” - “eh no, actually I bought all of them.” She blushed slightly. “A-all of them?” Dean repeated. “Yes, I want to read about your life story.”  

“You could just ask us what you want to know.” Sam tried to help his brother out. “Sam, I don’t even know what to ask. And this...” She took back the book Dean grabbed from her. “Is something you guys could have told me.” - “Well, don’t get too excited sweetheart, none of it is as accurate as the real deal.“ Dean said. “Besides if neither of you have anything to hide from me, like a, I don’t know fling or long-distance girlfriend or so, you wouldn’t mind me reading it. Would you?” Bobby saw how Y/N was teasing Dean, who’s eyes grew big, probably hoping not all his one nights were mentioned.  

“Y/N is right” Bobby added, “What’s wrong if she has some reading material when you guys are gone.” - Which to my defence, you are a lot, lately.” She wrapped her arms around Dean trying to sway him. Looking all puppy eyes at him. “Alright, fine. I’m going to work on Baby.” He said turning to the back door. 

“Oh eh sweety?” Dean stopped walking, she never used that nickname unless she needs something. He gave her a what now look. “Talking about working on cars, Bobby said I could pick a car out, to stop using his.” - “That’s good for you.” he wanted to move on. “But since I know nothing about that, and you are sooooo good at fixing cars... I thought, you know.” Dean’s head fell in his neck, “I don’t have time to fix an entire shipwreck for you.  

“Oh ok, never mind, you know, next time I could just take baby for a spin.” She heard Sam laughing at the background. “Fine, which one do you want.” - “Don’t care, you choose.” she kissed his cheek before joining Sam on the couch. "Oh and Dean?” - “Hm” - “Take your time it’s not urgent. Thanks.” - “Good cause baby comes first.” - “Deal” She said while he closed the door behind him.  

“You really know how to work that man.” - “I have no choice Sam. You are at least once in a while allowed to drive that car.” - “I have to get into town driving the car everyone knows is Bobby’s. People start to talk.”  

Y/N took a book Chuck wrote and started to read while Sam took his own literature. Y/N really liked spending time with Sam. It felt like when they were in high school again. Where they had their Thursday “book club”. Truth be told it was just Y/N and Sam hanging out reading books together, not even the same book.  

 She looked over at Sam seeing him getting off the couch to grab his laptop. Y/N knew he would come back but decided to tease Sam a little like they used to, by putting her legs on his place. “May I?” He asked when he came back. Y/N ignored him.  

“Real mature Y/N.” She grinned, “Ok. If that’s how you want to play it.” He pulled on her ankles before he lifted her out of the couch. “Hey! What the...” Trying to throw her over his shoulders but her fighting back made that difficult, although she wasn’t strong enough to fight herself out of Sam’s arms.  

Dean walked in, grabbed a beer when he saw his brother holding his girlfriend in his arms, keeping her off the floor while she struggled to get out. “A little help please?” She yelled at Dean who laughed and said “Keep up the good work Sammy. I need a little more time with baby.” and walked out again, Dean got used to their little fights, but Y/N seemed to forget that Sam was almost twice as big as her. She could never win.  

“Fine ok, you can have your seat back.” She gave up. “Just my seat?” He grinned, “ Ugh, the entire couch.” - “No, kidding, just my spot is good.” The peace returned in the living room.  

“Hey Sam?” - “yeah?” He answered without lifting his eyes from the screen. “You and eh, Ruby, did that really happen?” She could see the colour drawn out of his face. “Hey, I’m not judging. I’m just sorry to read you trusted the wrong person.” she took his hand in hers, his lips curled a little hearing her saying that. “Let’s just see it as a learning process.” He answered. “Hey, you’re not the only one who ‘dated’ the wrong person. Both of them were demons in their own way.”  

“You know, you never told me about your ex-boyfriends, why don’t you start with that?” Sam turned to her. 

“Still reading that garbage?” Dean interrupted them while walking back in, covered in oil and dirt. “Still working on Baby?” she answered. “Nope, all done, time to pick out your car sweetheart.” - “Great, then I'm done reading.” before she jumped of the couch, she squeezed Sam’s hand a little. Saying, I'm here for you if you want to talk, without using words. 

“Ok, sweetheart I’ve looked around, there are a few cars here that don’t need to much work. But personally, I would choose this one.” He stopped her in front of a green 1970 Chevrolet Camaro. “Are you sure? Seems like a lot of work.” - “The paint for the body will cost a little, but I checked and I’m sure that what’s inside will last a long time. And Bobby has parts all around this junkyard that I can re-use.”   

“Not what I meant, I thought of, I don’t know a normal small car?” - “My girl gets to drive an American classic. Nothing will last longer. Period.” She hugged him, “Besides, you’re used to driving Bobby’s Chevelle by now, switching to this won’t be difficult.” - “I’m very grateful honey, thank you.” She wiped his cheek before giving a soft peck on it. “I can think of a thing or two how you can thank me” He wiggled his eyebrows before he pulled her into a kiss.  

“Dean!” the love birds heard Sam yelling, waving his hands to tell them to come inside.  

“Chuck just texted me. He needs us.” The older Winchester pinched his nose. “Chuck as in, the guy who writes these books? Great would love to meet him!” - “No, no, no way! You never go out on a hunt with us.” - “Dean baby please. I won’t hunt I’ll stay in the motel and chat with Chuck. Keep him busy while you two do your business.”  

Dean hated the idea of Y/N joining them, but as usual she convinced him with a little help from Sam. 

They arrived at the address Chuck had texted, only to realise they were lured there by Becky. Who was waving from the moment the black impala was in sight. Dean parked the car with a big sigh. “Your girlfriend is here.” - “She is not my... never mind.”  Sam rolled his eyes. “Girlfriend?” Y/N popped her head between the two men. “Who is she?”  

“Becky, another crazy fan of the book you’ve been reading ever since we left.” Dean pointed to the book at the back seat.  

“You didn’t want me to help you with this hunt, so I have to distract myself.” The three of them walked their way to Becky and Chuck who just walked out. “What are you doing here?” He asked. “You texted us.” Sam looked confused. Chuck turned to Becky. “No actually that was me.” she confessed.  

She explained how she was hosting a SPN convention with Chuck as guest and that she wanted Sam to be there as well. Y/N couldn’t hold back a giggle. Becky looked over at her, “who are you?” - “This is Y/N. She is...” Sam started, Becky’s face changed while she interrupted Sam, jealous of Y/N ... “Your old high school crush! The girl you wished you lost your virginity to, the girl you hoped you could be her first as well...” Dean gave her a I really don’t want to hear this, look.  

 

Becky rambled on, “The girl who didn’t like you the way you liked her. Oh, I know. The one who hurt you.” - “Dean’s girlfriend.” Sam finished. “She is Dean’s girlfriend.” 

“Hi.” Y/N waved probably looking as red on her cheeks as Sam by now. 

It’s felt really weird that someone she didn’t know, knew about her. She made it very clear she though Y/N was a villain in this story.  

“H-how do you know that?” Sam asked feeling his cheeks getting redder by the minute. - “I read it.” - “There is only a small part of me in the books." Y/N looked at Sam who shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I wrote a lot of drafts, not everything made the book.” Chuck added. “Let me guess and Becky read all of them? Great” Dean said annoyed.   

“I still think you should have added the part where Y/N ditched Sam on their last book night, their last night in town, pretended to be sick just to sneak out, to fiddle with Dean.” Sam looked at her. 

 “Wait, you said that you stayed on the couch all night.” Y/N opened her mouth but before she could answer Becky did. “Yeah, the backseat of the impala you mean. At the football pitch at night with Dean’s body to keep her warm.” Clearly adding oil to the fire.  

“Wow! That didn’t happen!” Dean interfered “First off, it was the front seat.” - “Not helping!” Y/N gave him an angry look.  

“And second, we didn’t do anything. Did we make out, yes, but that’s all!” He looked at Sam who glanced over at Y/N. “Like I told you before, nothing happened.”  

Becky puffed, “He wanted to, though.” Dean cocked his head while giving Y/N a lopsided smile, clearly not apologising for it. Making her roll her eyes.  

After the awkward introduction they strolled around the convention Becky organised. Y/N stopped Dean by the arm. “Hey, eh I would like to find a motel before the three of us have no choice but to stay in the impala.” She saw the grin on his widen, “Hm, want some sexy time, eh?”  

“What?”- “Were standing in a hotel sweetheart. Enough rooms.” He pulled her in for a small kiss. “I'm not staying the night here, it gives me the creeps, Dean.” 

“Well, I'm hungry, so let’s stay here for the dinner, and if you still feel the same afterwards...’ His hands dropped to her behind, squeezed her flesh. “We’ll leave, let’s take the impala and find our self a nice cosy place to relive that one night.” He winked. Y/N’s head dropped “D, that’s not what I mean!” but he was too focused on food to hear her.  

She noticed Sam standing at the bar, Becky sitting at the table trying to flirt with him. He’s trying to friendly ignore her, but this girl had no idea how to stop. They locked eyes, giving her the please save me stare.  

“She is really into you, isn’t she?” Y/N laughed while she wrapped her arms around his, turning him with his back against her, so now Y/N was facing her. “I really believe she is nice. Just.” - “Weird? Creepy? Obsessed.” - “Yes, yes and yes. You know she writes like her own fictional stories about us.” - “That’s cute.” Y/N looked over seeing her giving Y/N a dead stare.  

“Yeah, maybe if they were, innocent.” - “Wait what?” - “Uhu.” Y/N blinked her eye’s a few times. “You are telling me, that sweet looking girl writes fan fiction porn about you?” Sam nodded “Like I said, uhu.” - “And you read it?” Y/N was in shock.  

“What? No! I read one story she e-mailed to me last time we met. It was innocent but then when I searched her page, I found... weird stuff.”  

“Wait how weird are we talking, like you whipping her or choking?” Sam raised his brow. “Don’t act all innocent Sammy. We both know that is not the worst thing in the world. Bet you even like it!” She rubbed her shoulder against his. “Y/N, seriously.” Sam wasn’t amused “Ok, sorry, what does she write then.”  

“About me and Dean.” - “Ok.” - “Together.” Her face turned pale. “Like, together, together?” - “Yeah.” Y/N looked over Sam’s shoulder to Becky. Sam saw the wheels in Y/N’s head turning. “Please don’t tell me you like that.” He asked nervous. “What? Ew, no, that isn’t even legal!” - “Oh, so if it was you would like it?” - “Oh god no Sam, I’m just trying NOT to picture it. And not to freak out!”  

“Sam, I’m feeling really uncomfortable. I really don’t want to be here tonight, you mind finding us a motel?” - “You want to get out of here?” She nodded quickly. “Please.” She gave him the puppy eyes. “Great!” He looked around, no Dean in sight. “Let’s go. We’ll tell Dean when we get back.” Sam pulled her in front of him, holding his hands on her shoulders to pushed her through the door.  

But Becky saw all of it, she didn’t hear a word, but the fact that they were sitting so close together and now left together made her jealous and suspicious. Sam “borrowed” one of the other cars that were parked outside and left.  

When they arrived at the motel Becky’s jealousy grew, she saw how Sam took the key and opened the door for Y/N following her inside.  

Not long after she sees Sam walking outside when Y/N opened the door in a robe calling him for something. She heard Sam yell. “Just make sure you’re ready, I’ll be right back.”  

Becky couldn’t bear the thought of what was happening inside. So instead of walking up to the room and confront them she drove back. But before she would walk back inside, she called Chuck to come outside.  

“I think Y/N is cheating on Dean.” She said while walking around the premises. ”What?” Chuck couldn't follow her, literally and figuratively. “I think Y/N is cheating on Dean, with my Sam. I saw them at the motel a few minutes ago.” - “You followed them?” - “I HAD to Chuck. I don’t want her to use him. She will break his heart all over again.”  

By the time Chuck and Becky walked back they saw Sam and Y/N walk back to the convention. Y/N wrapped her arm around the tallest brother, hugging him quickly. ”Thanks Sam. For helping, I really needed to get away from this.” - “If feel you. This place is weird, and I don’t want to spend the night too close to Becky.” 

“Sam Winchester, not afraid of ghosts and monsters but scared to dead of a female.” - “You really don’t know her.” He tried to defend himself. “Ha, who knows she might sneak into your bed and you hear her whisper in your ear. ‘Oh Sammy bear, hold me tonight in your strong arms’.” She acted out the scene a little too loud. Sam laughed at her drama performance.” You’re going to give me nightmares.”  

“See?!” Becky looked back to Chuck, “I never saw that as sexual tension. I thought they were just teasing each other. You know like brother and sister.” They ran after Y/N and Sam. “Where were you? The quiz is about to start.” Dean asked while walking up to them. ”By the way the buffet was amazing!” Sam gave a grinned look at Y/N and walked away.  

“I’m happy you filled your tummy.” She padded his stomach and kissed him. “Do you have a new parfum?” Dean asked. “Eh, no why?” - “Dean? Can I talk to you?” He looked over his shoulder seeing Chuck and Becky looking nervous. “I’ll keep a seat for you.” Y/N said while clearly feeling she wasn’t supposed to stay.  

Becky walked towards her turning her away from the room. “I know what you’re doing.”  - “Sorry?” - “You want them both don’t you? Is Dean not good enough for you?” Y/N looked at Dean seeing him looking back at her a little angry.  

“I, no we, saw you with Sam at the motel.” - “Becky, we went to rent a room.” - “Oh, really is that why you screamed “Oh Sammy bear, hold me tonight in your strong arms’?” Dean’s eyes grew big. - “Cheater!” She yelled before walking away leaving Dean and Y/N alone in the lobby. “Y/N?” She could see the fear in his eyes.  

But before they could say another word one of the guests ran towards them screaming, he saw 3 little kids covered in blood. Sam asked Becky if that was part of the convention, but the brothers quickly learned this wasn’t part of the plan. 

Y/N and Becky gathered all the guests and staff at the buffet. “Becky, Salt!” She yelled while throwing it towards her. Both women covered every door and window. Trying to keep the ghosts out.  

Meanwhile Sam and Dean did what they did best. Fight while they were fighting ghosts.  

“So, you’re still not over Y/N are you?” Dean bit towards Sam while they were walking to the graves. “What are you talking about?” - “Becky and Chuck saw you two all cuddly and close.” Sam was confused. “Saw us doing what?” - “Oh you know what I mean!” He turned around standing toe to toe with his younger brother. “Why Sam? Why Y/N?” - “Dean really, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  

Dean started to get frustrated. “Is this because she chose me? Or because we made up a little lie just to get together when we were young?” He walked away again “Dean seriously what are you talking about?” 

“Motel, Sam! They saw you two at the motel.” - “You didn’t want to go with her, you wanted to eat. So, she asked me.” Dean turned back around clocked his brother in his face. The anger behind the punch was enough to make Sam fall on the ground.” 

“The fuck Dean!” Sam placed his hand on his eye. “So, because I didn’t go with her, you thought hey why not, having sex with my brother’s girl was always on my ‘to do’ list? I can’t believe you did this to me. You know I love her!” - “O-of course, but I never ...” - “Dude she smelled like cheap motel soap!” - ”We never did anything Dean! I swear.”  

Dean saw the honesty in his eyes. “She is my friend and I never even think about her that way. I promise!” - “Never?” - “Never!” - “Cause you two are very close and ‘handsy’ sometimes.” - “She is like a sister, we fight constantly.” Sam said still sitting on the ground. “What if things were different? What If she wanted?” - “She doesn’t want me Dean, and I don’t want her.” - “You used to.” - “When I was 16. Please man, we didn’t do anything I swear!”  

The older brother thought for a second. “Then what did she mean by: Oh Sammy bear, hold me tonight in your strong arms’ - “We were laughing, joking what Becky would say if she had a change to sneak into my room. A-and the motel, Y/N was spooked in that old hotel, clearly, she is right. She wanted to book a room before there were no more available. So, I took her.”  

“And the shower?” - “She said it would calm her nerves.” - “What did you do during the shower?” Dean was still not convinced. “Got food, we ate we got back. Ask her!” Dean nodded sticking his hand out to Sam. Lifting him of the ground. “Let’s finish this job first, talk later.”  

Sam and Dean got back at the hotel. Y/N ran towards Dean, clinging on to his neck. “Oh god I'm so glad you are ok.” Dean placed one hand between her shoulders while his other still carried the shovel.  

Dean smelled the unfamiliar scent of soap on her. “I think we need to talk.” He said looking over at Chuck and Sam. Seems like Sam was already giving them a piece of his mind.  

“Dean baby, what Becky said...” he kissed her before she could say more. “It’s ok.” He said. “No, I was teasing Sam, I pretended to be Becky. I would never.” He smiled softly. “I believe you, I never really believed them anyway.” He shrugged his shoulders trying to play it cool.  

“Oh really? Then why does Sam look like he ran into a door?”  Dean grinned “The ghost did that.” He pulled her close. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I just, sometimes I'm a little jealous of the bond you have with him, and Chuck telling me you two went to a motel without telling me... Guess it made me nervous.”  

“Dean, I only want to stay in your strong arms, .” she over did her act again. Dean’s lips curled slightly up. ”Is that a promise?” She nodded slowly. He felt her fingers going through his hair pulling him in.  

“Does your offer of re-living that night still stand?” She asked before biting his bottom lip softly. Dean’s eyes grew big before they changed into his bedroom eyes .  

“Absolutely” He answered with a husky voice.  

--

Let me know what you think! Like, comment, share ❤️

[tristomisto]

(Photo above is from Beautiful Glitch’s Pax announcement)

Chapter 9 of Tentacles & Glasses is up on both AO3 & Fanfiction.net!

Titled: Revelations & Department Stores

This is the meatiest chapter yet! Generally when I write I know where I like a chapter to begin and end, and sometimes it can get pretty fleshed out what happens between then and there. Especially when I make jokes with the characters in Monster Prom. Hope all that follow enjoy!

[holylulusworld]

Caged Bird

Pairing: Michael!Dean x fem!Reader; Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Genre: angst

Written for @little-diable’s 15k celebration.

My sentence (#79): "There is no law that gods must be fair" from The Song of Achilles.  

Warnings: blood, angst, mentions of characters death, imprisonment, being locked in a cage, mentions of starving someone, implied torture, Michael Dean is the worst, a hint of hope and fluff

Words: 1k+

Your world lies in ruins. Only dust and burned ground are left. Blood is soaking the battleground. Feeding it with the red nectar from the fallen ones.

The leader stands over your broken body. Your hope and wings ripped from your dying body. He smiles down at you, his eyes still the same, but so much colder now.

“Why did you have to do this?” He cocks his head to watch you take your last breaths. “A mere human becoming an angel. This has to end badly.”

“He promised that I’ll be able to defeat you if I give up my human form,” you choke on your blood as your hand reaches out for the man who used to be the love of your life. He swats it away, sneering as a single tear runs down your cheek.

“Father lied,” he stares back at you. His eyes are blue and sparkling now. “God is a good player, isn’t he?”

“Why would he do such a thing? Why would he lie to me?” You whimper as the pain gets unbearable. Your insides feel like your body is on fire while you are shaking from the cold. “God is supposed to be the good guy.”

Michael crouches down next to you to run his hand over your hair. He almost acts like he regrets piercing your heart with his archangel blade. 

“There is no law that gods must be fair," he wraps his hand around the sword in your chest. “Your God is a worse monster than all the things you were hunting all your life.”

“A monster,” you choke on your blood. “Just like you.” Your eyes flutter shut. There is no fight left in you. It’s over, and you succumb to the darkness wanting to drag you away.

“I’m not a monster, but your God. A better one,” his fingertips stroke your cheek, and you feel a spark touch your skin. “I’ll make you my perfect little puppet on a string. Dean will be so happy having you around. Won’t he?”

You dare not open your eyes when he removes the sword from your chest. The pain is excruciating. Images of your family, friends, and lastly Dean and you fill your mind. 

“So many memories, little human,” he coos and touches your chest. Another spark runs through your body, making you cry out in pain. “I’ll keep you to torture Dean with every single kiss you remember. Maybe I’ll put you in a cage only to let him watch you wither away like a flower.”

You wake up in pain, like most days. Your body is not used to being locked in a small cage. On the other hand, no human being is used to being caged like some animal.

“Look at my favorite pet, Dean,” the monster wearing Dean’s body for prom waltzes into the room, his eyes trained on you in the cage. 

You’re too weak to even give him a snarky comment. He didn’t give you food for a few days. Michael likes to test how long you’ll survive without food.

“Sweetheart,” he uses the pet name on purpose, “don’t you want to greet the man you love? Hmm…he has missed you. Right now, he tries to claw his way to the front, but he won’t succeed.”

Michael crouches down in front of the cage. He wants to watch you flinch away, but you won’t give him the satisfaction today. Whatever he has in mind today, you’re too tired and weak to feel the pain.

“Aw, did I finally break you?” Michael unlocks the cage. He reaches out for you to stroke your cheek. The monster smiles as a single tear rolls down your cheek. “I promise, this is not the end.”

You wish his words weren’t true. Every beat of your heart tells you he’s not lying.

“Dean dreams of holding you in his arms again,” Michael easily gets you out of the cage and lifts you into his arms. Your head lolls back, and you hope you’ll lose consciousness before he starts with whatever he planned for you. “I’ll fulfill his wish tonight.”

“Please just kill me,” you breathe against his shoulder. “Please. I can’t…please.” Michael broke the strong woman in you. He won but refuses to show mercy and redeem you.

“I won’t let you go, little bird. It’s so much fun feeling Dean despair every day more…”

Michael smiles widely as you lie on the soft sheets, looking like an angel covered in red.

Your body is littered with cuts from his archangel blade. You can’t whimper or move. He made sure of it.

His hand slides over your torn body to heal the damage he did to you tonight.

“Beautiful yet so broken. Do you want to feel her, Dean?” Michael leans over your body to brush his lips over yours. “I could break her neck or rip her heart out and you cannot stop me. Give in, and I’ll end her life painless and fast.”

“Do it! Kill me,” your eyes snap open, and you grab Michael’s hand on your cheek. “Stop toying with me.”

“There she is,” Michael coos and brushes his thumb over your cheek. “I knew there was still fight left in you. Dean would be so proud of you, sweetheart.”

“You’re a fucking creep,” you spit in his face. “Dean would rip your ass open, you sonofabitch!”

You can’t see it, but Dean stopped fighting Michael’s grip on him for a moment to chuckle at your response. “I’ll get out of here, sweetheart,” he says before fighting Michael again.

“You’re nothing but insects!” You can hear Michael yell outside your prison. There’s a commotion, and then the door flies open. You can see a young woman pierce Michael’s upper arm, and then blinding light fills the room.

“Y/N,” the last thing you recognize is Sam’s voice and the worry in his eyes as he steps toward the cage. “Fuck, Cas, Rowena I need your help.”

Waking up feels different this time. You’re not in pain, and someone gently runs his hand over your hair. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Dean—” you croak as you struggle to open your eyes. “What a pleasant dream. Please don’t leave me. Stay with me.”

“I’ll stay with you,” he moves closer to press his lips to your temple, “until the very end. I promise to make him suffer for what he’s done to you…” 

Tags in reblog.

[timeofjuly]

Trick or Heat

Summary: You’re sitting at the kitchen counter, laptop in front of you and trying to get a little work done before you’re pulled away for the evening, but you’ve written and rewritten the same sentence six times now, and each rephrasing is clumsier than the last. You just can’t focus. It’s like first date jitters, maybe, if the first date in question involved an hours-long, magically fuelled sex-fest that’s been scribbled in underneath October 31st ever since the calendar was purchased. You feel hot (ha) at the very thought of it. Whether it’s a sexy hot or a nervous, sweaty hot remains to be seen.

Sans' first heat with you happens to fall on Halloween. Missing out on trick-or-treating, you find, is a worthwhile trade-off.

Notes: Merry Halloween lmao here's 5k of horrortale sans/reader porn with feelings

Tags: NSFW!!!! Smut with feelings, heat cycles, established relationship, fluff, oral sex, unrealistically enjoyable shower sex, face-sitting, multiple orgasms, size kink, reader has a vagina.

Read it on AO3 or read it below the cut!

Before moving in with your boyfriend and his brother, you didn’t use a physical calendar. You never felt the need to; your phone kept track of your various appointments and commitments and why bother pencilling in haircut at 11am when you’d get a reminder text from the salon the day before anyway?

That fast-and-loose attitude served you well when you were single, but these days, a calendar sits smack-dab in the middle of your fridge. Sans’ occupational therapist had been the one to suggest it; she’d rightly pointed out that leaving sticky notes for himself around the house isn’t a very effective memory aid, considering that he’s prone to forgetting about the notes themselves.

Sans had been less resistant to the idea than he’d been to the other mnemonics the OT had suggested, and so the refrigerator calendar had gone up. It wouldn’t be out of place in the home of a WASP mom of four; Live, Laugh, Love is proudly proclaimed in flowy script at the top of each page and the image for each month is themed in accordance of whatever holiday happens to fall in it. For March, there’d been a picture of a rabbit surrounded by colourful eggs with ‘Hoppy Easter, every bunny!’ written beneath it. For October, there’s a scowling cartoon woman, broomstick in tow, with a speech bubble saying, ‘this is my resting witch face’.

Sans, obviously, had been the one to pick it out. You’ve peeked ahead and you’re looking forward to watching him flip it over onto November tomorrow; the Thanksgiving-themed ‘Thankful, blessed, and mashed potato obsessed!’ spread will undoubtedly give him a laugh.

First, though, you need to get through tonight.

You’re not nervous, exactly, but what you’re feeling is too sharp to purely be called anticipation. The feeling flutters against your sternum, a lightness that sets your heart ticking just a little faster than normal.

You’re sitting at the kitchen counter, laptop in front of you and trying to get a little work done before you’re pulled away for the evening, but you’ve written and rewritten the same sentence six times now, and each rephrasing is clumsier than the last. You just can’t focus.

It’s like first date jitters, maybe, if the first date in question involved an hours-long, magically fuelled sex-fest that’s been scribbled in underneath October 31st ever since the calendar had been purchased.

There are four things written underneath that date. The first, in your handwriting, is Halloween! and the second, also in your handwriting, is pay power bill (shit, you better do that now).

The third, in Papyrus’ handwriting and taking up almost all of the room, is PAPYRUS’ SPECTACULAR HALLOWEEN EXTRAVAGANZA!!!

Then, written at the bottom, so small that your eyes strain to read it, is heat.

You feel hot (ha) at the very thought of it. Whether it’s a sexy hot or a nervous, sweaty hot remains to be seen.

Either way, you feel like a virgin on prom night. All of the monsters in your life – even Papyrus, mortifyingly, who is the last person you want to talk to about your sex life – has assured you that you’ve got nothing to worry about, and you’re not, not really, save some lingering concerns about your stamina and your ability to walk tomorrow.

This is just new and new things are inherently a little scary, but you’re not going to let your irrational fear of failure ruin this for you. Not today, insecurities, not today.

Papyrus left for the Halloween festivities over an hour ago and Sans is napping on the living room couch – apparently tonight’ll take a lot out of him and it’s normal for monsters to sleep more than usual in the days preceding and following a heat. For Sans, who already dozes off at the drop of a hat, this means that this is his third nap of the day.

You close your laptop with a sigh, giving up the pretence of actually getting any work done. No point bullshitting yourself for any longer.

You decide that you’re going to have a long, hot shower. There’s some personal grooming you want to do before Sans wakes up and you’ve got lingerie that you purchased for this specific occasion to change into. You don’t normally bother with frills like that - neither of you are particularly fancy people – but you feel like you should make this special.

Sans is still asleep when you creep through the living room to get to your shared bedroom, sprawled adorably across the couch. A little line of drool leaks from his slightly open mouth and the sight of it makes your chest feel all warm and soupy.

God, he’s so cute. You love seeing him like this, so unguarded and peaceful and soft.

Once in your ensuite, you strip off your clothes and turn on the shower. You test the temperature of the water with your palm. Steam is billowing in soft sheets from the water by the time that you deem it to be an acceptable heat.

You step into the shower, sighing as the heat cascades over your head. Your hair sticks in wet tendrils to your face and neck. You hope that you can get it dry before your boyfriend wakes up.

Washing your hair is always a pain, but at least it gives you something hands-on to do to distract you from the tension slowly curling in your belly.

You and Sans have had dozens of conversations about today. In the beginning, he hadn’t wanted you to be here at all, worried that he’d be too rough with you. You’d scoffed at that, certain that he’d never hurt you, even by accident, and you still stand by that sentiment but after he’d explained this heat business to you properly, you’d understood his concerns.

It still feels like a strange term to use: heat. Too animalistic. Too wild.

Neither of those words are ones you’d use to describe Sans. He’s always so careful with you, so cautious. So afraid of hurting you, or even scaring you. Even in the throes of passion, he always has a firm leash on himself, no matter how hard you try to shake it off.

The idea of him, uninhibited, unrestrained –

You press your thighs together. Shit, you’re getting ahead of yourself.

Sans has explained the biological side of it to you a few times, but so much of the explanation had ultimately boiled down to it’s just magic, babe, so you’re still not sure that you entirely get it.

You have the basics down pat, you think; some monsters go into heat roughly once every twelve months.

Why some monsters and why every twelve months, you have no idea. The fact is that Sans ticks the first box and it’s been the allotted time. Even without checking the date he can tell, apparently, when a heat is coming; his already sharp senses have grown even keener over the past week and of course there’s the sleeping. There’s been some other stuff, too; he’s been all over you for the past week, even more so than usual, bringing you blankets and food and drinks. Making sure that you’re happy and comfortable. It’s been really nice, but he’s bashful about it, so you’ve done your best to not make a big deal about it.

Thank stars you managed to convince him to let you stick around for it. It had taken a lot of cajoling and promises that you’d leave if you so much as felt uncomfortable, but you’d done it.

The only downside is that you’re missing Halloween, but whatever. You can gorge yourself on candy any day of the year. The kind of ravaging you’re expecting is well worth that sacrifice.  

You finish scrubbing shampoo into the roots of your hair, your head haloed in suds. You’ve washed the rest of your body in the time that you let the shampoo sit on your head and it’s well and truly time to wash it out. You turn the cold water tap a bit higher to temper the water a little and then close your eyes and duck your head beneath the spray.

The water feels lovely against your face, soothing the tension between your brows. Eyes still closed, you bring your hands up to your head and begin rinsing the suds from your hair, going section by section to make sure nothing stays soapy. The sounds of the shower fill your ears, raining down on your senses.

Hard phalanges scrape against your waist from behind and you gasp, eyes flying open. You’re immediately assailed by a blast of water directly to the face, a little going into your mouth but most of it mixing with the shampoo and flowing into your eyes.

“Fuck!” you hiss, vision gone blurry. The hands immediately fall from your sides.

You grope forward blindly, searching for the towel you’d slung over the shower door. The soft fabric meets your fingertips and you drag it towards you, wiping your stinging eyes.

“sorry, sorry, sorry,” a deep voice chants into your ear and the words are familiar, but the tone isn’t, filled with a new urgency. “you okay? didn’t mean to scare ya’.”

“It’s okay,” you say hurriedly, feeling awful at how torn-up about it he sounds. “It’s just soap.”

“sorry,” Sans repeats. “thought you would’ve heard the door open.”

You blink a few times until your vision clears. “Nah, I was totally spaced out.” You throw the towel back over the shower door and turn around to face him.

Sans is completely naked, the majority of the space in the large shower taken up by his bulk. How the fuck he manages to move so quietly, you’ll never understand. It probably doesn’t speak well to your situational awareness that he managed to just sneak into the shower without you realising, but that’s a worry for another time.

He’s looking at you with a concern that makes your chest hurt, his single eyelight unusually fuzzy and scanning your expression for pain or panic. There’s none to be found, of course, but you’re sure that the shampoo’s made your eyes a little red, which might be giving the wrong impression.

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching up to press your hand against his skull. He’s warm to the touch, even to your shower-flushed skin. “Everything alright with you?”

He doesn’t reply verbally, but he leans into your palm with a sigh and some of the tension fades. You let him nuzzle into your hand for a moment, enjoying the intimacy, but then you remember that you’ve got half-rinsed shampoo in your hair that you need to finish washing out; it’ll make your hair go dry if you leave it sitting for too long.

“I’ve got to finish rinsing this out,” you explain, gesturing at your sudsy head.

“can i do it?” he asks you, hands fluttering towards you. “i wanna do something for you. i wanna take care of you.”

Aw, that’s sweet. You’ve showered together before, of course, but Sans has never offered to wash your hair for you. For a moment, you wonder what’s prompted the offer, but his hands drop back to his sides – you must’ve taken too long to answer – and your eyes follow them down and land on –

Oh. Yes. Right. The heat.

Well, that makes more sense. It’s clearly started. No wonder he’s climbed into the shower with you in the nude. Hell, no wonder he wants to wash your hair; he’d warned you that he might be a little more demonstratively affectionate and attentive.

Your gaze lingers on the slate-blue erection straining towards you for only a second before it shoots back up to his face. The same blue colour lightly stains his zygomatic arches.

“Sure,” you say, voice gone a little husky. “Hold on, I’ll turn back around.”

You step back under the spray and spin around, your backside to Sans, and tip your head back so your hair is under the cascade of the showerhead, but your face stays somewhat dry.

“Go for it,” you say over the sound of the water.

Heat prickles across your scalp when sharp phalanges slip into your hair. You hum, staticky pleasure flowing from your head and down your neck. You let your eyes flutter closed. The pressure and lack of give in Sans’ bony fingers make him great at giving head massages.

He must step a little closer, because something hot and hard bumps against the small of your back. You shiver, goosebumps tingling across your skin.

It’s difficult not to relax completely into the head massage, but as nice as it feels, you realise that all of the shampoo isn’t actually being washed away. No wonder: it’s not like Sans has any hair to wash and you can’t imagine that he’d have done this for anyone else before.

“You’ve got to part it a little to get all the soap out,” you say. You tip your head a little further back and to the side to demonstrate, letting the water wash away another pocket of shampoo.

His fingers comb through your hair and then begin to wash a little more rigorously, going section-by-section. “don’t worry, babe, i’ll do a sud-sational job.”

That startles a laugh out of you. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m rooting for you.”

The remaining shampoo is soon washed away, but Sans continues with his ministrations to your scalp with one hand. The other hand drops to your hip, where he rubs little circles with his thumb into the slick flesh. You cant your hips back towards him, pressing his cock more firmly against your lower back.

The hand at your hip tightens, sending a thrill shivering through you. His hand is so big that you can feel the tips of his phalanges digging in close to where your thigh joins your pubic mound, whilst the base of his hand rests on the outer curve of your ass. The reminder of how big he is compared to you – fuck, it always gets you going.

Looks like your hair is going unconditioned today. Ah well; you’ll use a hair mask tomorrow to make up for it. You have far more pressing issues at hand.

You step back through the water – keeping your eyes firmly shut – and into Sans’ embrace, his hand dropping from your hair to curl around your torso. It wraps around your chest and settles on the curve of your breast, his fingers toying with your nipple. You can feel his cock throbbing against your back, so hard, especially considering that neither of you have touched it yet.

“This heat thing is no joke, huh?” you say.

His fingers pause on your breast – you and your big mouth. “nope. are you sure that you’re okay with this? i can stop-.”

“Absolutely, one million percent sure,” you say firmly. “Never been surer of anything in my life. I want this.”

“yeah?” his voice has gone a little shivery. You much prefer this to the worried, hesitant tone of before. “yeah, you want this? want me to make you feel good?”

The hand at your hip dips a little lower, brushing at the cleft of your pussy. It reminds you of how very badly you want to be touched there.

“Yes, please,” you say and because you know that it gets him every time you use his name, you continue, “please touch me, Sans.”

You hear him exhale shakily and then blessedly, finally, his hand slips between your thighs. You groan, head tipping back to rest against his sternum. His phalanges trace along your outer labia, using your wetness to glide against the sensitive skin, before moving inwards to slowly circle your clit.

“i'll take good care of you, i promise,” he mutters against your ear. “spread your legs a little for me, babe, that’s it.”

The words send heat spiralling in your core and pull your muscles tight. It normally takes loads of foreplay to get Sans talking like that, voice pitched even deeper with need, and even more to for him to take the lead like this.

You hurry to spread your legs, glad for his arms around you to keep you from slipping on the shower tile.

He uses the extra room between your thighs to play with your clit a little more firmly, touching you exactly the way you like. Even over the roar of the shower – which you should really turn off, neither of you are really underneath the showerhead and water isn’t cheap – you can hear how wet you are, hear how his fingers slip against you.

“Fuck, that’s good,” you sigh, feeling him gently slip a finger inside of you to gently press against your g-spot.

Your eyes had been closed but you force them open now. You want to watch.

You look down the plain of your body, taking in the hand cupping your breast, the other between your thighs. His hands look huge between your legs, bones thick and long, pleasantly textured against your skin.

“say it again,” he urges you, hands speeding up. “tell me how good i make you feel.”

“So good,” you gasp, feeling the heat tighten in your belly. “So fucking good. Please don’t stop, oh my god.”

Another finger is slid inside of you and they both tap in tandem against your g-spot whilst his thumb rubs tight circles against your clit and it only takes a few moments for the dual stimulation to build into a crescendo. You let out a strangled moan as you come, feeling yourself tremble around his fingers and letting your head thud back against his sternum.

Sans groans against the top of your head and you feel his cock pulse against your back, warmth seeping into your skin.

It takes you a moment to catch your breath and trust that your legs aren’t about to collapse underneath you.

“I like this heat thing,” you breath.

Sans huffs out a laugh behind you. “aw, you tuckered out already? told ya you should’ve napped with me before.”

You turn around to face him, pulling faux indignation to your face. “Hey, don’t count me out yet. It’ll take more than one orgasm to wear me out.”

His browbone quirks, an expression you see on him so rarely, and sweet affection rushes into your chest, overlapping with the lingering buzz of your orgasm. God, you love him so much.

“is that a challenge?” he says.

You get the feeling that you might be biting off a little more than you can chew, but you’re not backing down now. “Sure is, baby. I’ve got stamina for days. I wanna touch you first, though. I owe you one.”

His smirk gives way to bashfulness. “i – uh, no you don’t, babe. we’re both one-for-one.”

“What do you mean? I haven’t even -.” You pause, remembering how he’d ground against you as you’d come. You twist your head back to see if any evidence remains on your back, but you’ve been standing under the water, so there’s nothing, but Sans’ face says it all.  

“… holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” you say. “Bed now, please and thank you.”

The water is hastily switched off – Papyrus is going to flip his lid when he sees the water bill for October – and then you’re shrieking with delight as Sans lifts you clear off your feet and into his arms. You blink and then you’re being gently deposited into the soft sheets of your bed, still completely soaked.

Sans looms over you, knees caging your hips with his arms bracketed around your shoulders. His single eyelight huge and fuzzy. It’s trained on your face, unmoving. His ribcage heaves. Something crackles in the air around you, so palpable that even you, human and magic-less as you are, can feel it dancing across your skin.

“I think that takes the record for the shortest shortcut to date, lazybones,” you say breathlessly.

You’re expecting a clever quip in return, or perhaps a joke or a particularly horrific pun, but he just sucks in a low, unsteady breath, eyelight moving down from your face to laze down the length of your body. You can’t help it: you squirm under his discerning gaze. Your heart is racing, beating a frantic staccato beat against your ribcage and even though your skin is wet and rapidly cooling, you feel hot.

“See something you like?” You’re trying for coy and cocky, but it comes out a little strangled.

“fuck yeah,” he breathes, and then his mouth crashes onto yours.

The kiss is intense, but not as urgent as you’d expected it to be. If anything, you’re the one moving things along, wrapping your arms around his clavicles and hooking your leg around his pelvis to draw him closer. That’s one thing you’ve always loved about sex with Sans; everything is deliberate and considered, never hurried, never rushed. Apparently even heat can’t speed him up.

His tongue licks a wet stripe up the column of your throat, making you hiss. His breath comes out in hot pants against your neck and his teeth just barely scrape against your skin.

“I want to -,” you start, sliding a hand between your bodies to find his cock.

Your wrist is caught in a bony grip before you can reach far enough, and your hand is pinned above your head. His face is still buried in your chest, laving wet kisses against your collarbones and between your breasts and you can hear him mumbling, you think, whispering something against your skin.

You give a cursory tug at your wrist – you’re not interested in breaking free because this is way too fucking hot, but you want to see the reaction the token resistance gets.

Sans fucking growls against your skin and holy shit, you need him to touch you, right now.

He pulls away from your neck, leaving your chest heaving.

“sit up,” he says. “wanna eat that fucking pussy.”

Sounds good to you!

You rush to sit. You’re a little confused when he lies down in the place you just vacated but then you squeal as Sans grasps your thighs and uses his hold to abruptly flip you around and then up, towards the pillows, towards his face, hauling one of your knees over his head.

Off balance, you curl forward and brace your hands on his iliac crests, chest heaving. It’s a struggle to stay upright.

Your hips ache with the delicious stretch, knees planted firmly on either side of his skull. His phalanges dig into your ass, guiding you to press more firmly against him. You try to pull yourself a little higher to give the poor guy some breathing room but he just tugs you down even more and, to your delighted surprise, actually gives your ass a little slap.

It's barely a slap at all, really, all sound and no sting, but coming from your normally shy boyfriend, it sends new pleasure throbbing through you.

Okay, then; if he wants you to ride his face, then you’re going to ride his fucking face.

You roll your hips against him, feeling the soft slickness of his tongue and the unyielding press of bone against your sensitive flesh. You’re tentative at first, but his hands start moving in tandem with your undulations, urging you on, so you take that as a green light to speed things up.

It feels so fucking good. The wet slide of your pussy against his mouth, the way his tongue follows your motions to stimulate your clit. Your thighs tremble around his head.

God, you must be making a fucking mess of his face and just picturing it makes you clench.

You can feel your second orgasm gradually building, waves of heat pulsing in time with your hips. Then you’d be two to one, you realise. Pretty unfair, considering that he’s the one with the raging biological (magical?) need to fuck.

You’re loathe to move from your position on his face, though, so you’re gonna have to get creative.

He’s too tall for you to reach his cock with your mouth – you love the size difference ninety-nine percent of the time, but it makes certain positions impossible – but luckily, you’ve got two perfectly good hands.

He grunts against your pussy when you wrap your hand around his cock, the other still gripping his hipbone to keep yourself upright. It’s so hard, twitching in your grip, and when you trace a single finger up the underside, it drips with a bead of precum.

Trying to time your strokes with the rhythm of your hips, you touch him the way you know he likes best; slow, firm motions, lingering at the head. You’d normally use two hands for this, but you don’t trust yourself to stay seated with your core strength alone.

He seems to be enjoying himself just fine anyway; even muffled through your body, you can hear his grunts and moans. The sounds and the feel of him in your hand barrel you closer to orgasm, heat pulling tight in your belly. You’re still a little sensitive from your first orgasm but with you controlling the pace, the extra sensation only makes it better.

A particularly firm slide of his tongue against your clit pushes you over the edge and you come with a cry, grinding down onto his mouth.

You’re shaking as you slide off of his face, rolling to the side to burry your face into the pillows. Your thighs slide wetly against each other and the whole of you is singing with pleasure.

You crane your neck to look back at Sans, but he’s already grabbing your hips and hauling them upwards and backwards towards him, your ass high in the air and your face buried deep into the pillows.

You go to pull yourself up onto your elbows but then you feel his fingers carding through the sweaty hair at the back of your neck, the base of his hand ghosting along the top of your spine. It’s only the tiniest suggestion of pressure, but you get the message all the time.

You let your elbows collapse underneath you and fall back onto the bed.

A wet, toothy kiss is pressed to your hip. “so good for me,” he says.

You moan something insensible into the pillows and spread your legs a little wider. A huge hand presses between them, spreading your wetness along your thighs. Everything feels oversensitive and tingly; you’re not sure if you’ll be able to come again quickly, but you’re excited to find out.

The blunt head of his cock bumps up against your pussy, glancing away from your entrance. It rubs along your clit, slow and lazy and so fucking huge.

It can fit inside of you – mostly, anyway - but it takes hours of careful prep-work and rivers of lube good quality silicone lube, and as relaxed and ready as you’re feeling right now, trying for penetrative sex without some dedicated stretching is just a bad idea.

You press your thighs together, wedging his cock between them. The base of it is hot against your clit and the head nudges at your lower belly. His hands grip your ass and slowly, he begins moving.

The slick grind against your clit is just enough to make new arousal spiral through you. You press yourself back against him as much as you’re able – not a whole lot you can do with just your ass in the air – but you’re soon lost to the sensations.

“fuck, babe, you feel so good,” he says, hands tight around your hips. “so fuckin’ good.”

Your response is lost to the pillows. You’re drooling, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

He starts to speed up and you press your thighs together even tighter, increasing the friction on your clit. You feel – you feel fucking wild, out of control, lost to the incomprehensible magic thrumming through the air. God, you can’t believe that you were nervous about this, that you were worried that you’d fuck it up. This is perfect.

A hand grips your shoulder and tugs you upwards – you’re loving all the manhandling tonight – and you pull your hands beneath you, leaving you on all fours. Sans curls over you, ribcage pressed to your back and skull pressed to the side of your neck.

“love you, so much,” he rasps, scraping his teeth down your neck. “you’re all mine, aren’t’cha? tell me.”

“I’m all yours,” you agree. You decide to risk losing your balance and snake your hand down to touch him. “Want you to come for me, baby, make me yours.”

The combination of your words and touch makes him cry out. He throbs in your hand and thrusts harder. Such indirect stimulation wouldn’t normally be enough to get you off, but you’re so turned on that you careen over the edge anyway, tired muscles clenching around nothing. It’s the softest orgasm of the night, the least intense, but no less satisfying for it. You feel him coming too, spilling on your hand and belly.

When the orgasm fades away, it leaves bone-deep exhaustion in its wake. Your arms collapse underneath you and your bottom half soon follows suit, your shaking thighs failing to hold up your weight.

“need a break?” he asks you. You can hear the amusement in his voice and as annoyed as you are to prove him right, it makes you so happy to hear him sound so happy.

You groan in response. Speech is beyond your capacity.

It takes you a second, but eventually you unearth your face from the pillows to look at him with bleary eyes. Part of you wants to insist that you’re good to keep going, to push through the overstimulation, but your bits are starting to go numb.

“Maybe just a little one,” you concede. You roll over onto your back to face him, careful to avoid the wet patch.

He looks so pleased with himself. So satisfied.

Warm fondness unspools in your belly, bringing a flush to your cheeks that has nothing to do with physical exertion. You’re so fucking lucky.

“what’s that look for?” he asks you, tilting his head the way he always does when he’s trying to work you out and fuck, how can one person be this cute?

You resist the urge to grab him by the zygomatic arches to smoosh his face between your hands, but it’s a near thing.

“I just love you a lot,” you say. You look back down at his pelvis; no dick. Satiated for now, apparently. “Wanna have a quick nap before the next round?”

“stars, you’re perfect,” he mutters, making you grin.

“Yeah, I’m the best,” you agree. “C’mere, lazybones.”

He curls up next to you and you snuggle against his side. It’s always a bit of challenge to navigate your soft, fleshy bits with his sharp, pointy ones, but you make it work. He lets out a contented sigh as you settle in his arms, your legs thrown over his femurs.

You doze for a few minutes, soothed by the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your head.

“sorry that you’re missing Halloween,” he says. “could’ve bagged some good candy.”

“I’d take staying in with you over squeezing myself into some Party City costume to totter around the city in this freezing weather any day. Trick-or-treating is overrated,” you say. “And I’m sure Paps’ll be happy to share.”

Sans hums. “hope he brings back some of those hershey’s things.”

“Kisses, you mean?”

“well, if you’re offering.”

You sigh into his clavicle. “That was one a stretch, even for you.”

But you press a quick kiss to his teeth all the same.  

Sleep tugs at your eyelids; loathe as you are to concede defeat, you really are tuckered out. The bed is so comfortable and warm - the company’s not too bad either - and the room is perfectly dark, save the gentle shine of the glow-in-the-dark stars Sans has stuck to the roof.

“Shit.” You sit up. “Fuck, I forgot!”

“what’s wrong?” His voice is a little groggy.

“I forgot to pay the power bill.” You’re going to have to get up - and put clothes on, horror of all horrors - and go into the cold kitchen to get your laptop. “Urgh, sorry, I’ve got do it, otherwise they’ll hit us with a late fee.”

Sans tugs at your arm. “relax, babe, i already did it.”

You pause your attempts to wiggle out of his grip. “What?”

“i already paid it,” he explains. “saw that it was on the calendar. you can chill.”

“Oh, thank you, calendar,” you say.

“hey, what about me? do you doubt my cents of responsibility?”

“Thank you to you too, then. I really don’t want to get up,” you say, settling back down next to him and curving your body into his.

He huffs a laugh against the top of your head. “good, ‘cause ‘m not letting you outta this bed for the foreseeable future.”

You can only muster up a yawn in response. That sounds perfect to you.

[trashcornertully]

Plugging my Kinktober (Kinkcomboctober) again! [18+]

I've updated my personal Kinktober over on AO3. Now 4 fills are out (I've started updating according to the Australian time-zone), plus the full list of prompts included at the start for you to view. Enjoy!

Go check out @terrencemcterrence as well, who is writing a parallel Kinkcomboctober which is extremely good!

[sparks-olivarpente]

Fun Fluffy Fics

Super long list of fun byler fics! We all need fun and fluff don't we? Reblog to add your favorites :)

if you kissed me now by astrobi (@astrobei) “Huddling. For warmth.” “Like penguins,” Mike offers, and then rests his head on Will’s shoulder like this is supposed to be helping, or something. Or: Will Byers and the harrowing experience of being snowed in with your mom, your almost-stepdad, all of your friends, and your (kind of) (secret) boyfriend.

sealed with a kiss by @astrobei too Listen. No one should ever let Mike make decisions right after he wakes up from a nap, okay? Especially not decisions where Will is concerned. This is so not his fault.

cheer up, baby by @perexcri Will is working at Melvald’s to help carry his own weight in the Byers-Hopper household. It’s his junior year, and everything is going fine. That is, until someone tries to ask Mike to prom in the office supplies aisle of Melvald’s during one of Will’s afternoon shifts…

sweetheart, you're so cruel by @perexcri too A music snob and the frontman of his most-hated local band walk into a bar for a date. It’s either the beginning of a really good joke or a really shitty love story.

pull of an ocean by @magentamee Will goes on a Hopper-Byers family East coast vacation for a week. He finds himself missing Mike a lot sooner than expected and ends up getting swept off his feet when he gives Mike a call.

what a crabby, little guy by dragons_like_smores (@howtobecomeadragon) Will gets sloppy drunk after a break up with his boyfriend and sits very sadly on the beach. Mike meets him there to find out what happened.

honey-mouthed by @smoosnoom According to everyone in his life, Mike has a voice reserved just for Will. He tries to figure out what that says about him.

eyecatcher by @smoosnoom too While volunteering at the Hawkins' help center, it seems like every girl around has a newfound interest in Will Byers, and Mike doesn't know why he feels the way he does.

lying on the floor (typing your name into the internet) by @andiwriteordie The one in which Will and Mike are just friends on Tumblr… until they aren't.

kiss me, kiss me with your eyes closed by bxni "Does anyone else think their partner is… edible?” Mike asks, aka; mike wants to eat Will affectionately, the party knows this but not their relationship, and he's so, so whipped.

the walls we crashed through by delusionaltogether (@parkitaco) Mike Wheeler is not good at keeping secrets.

Positive Forces (all I need) by @eightfifteen Having a secret relationship is easier than it seems. Except for the 'secret' part, apparently.

everything about him by endlesslytea Maybe all the monster fighting did a number of Mike, because he cannot for the life of him remember Will coming out to him. Either his memory is messed up, or he woke up in the alternative reality in which it isn’t a taboo subject, because Will just casually mentioned liking guys and Mike is not taking it personally at all.

Only Thing On My Mind by FoodieHoodie (@foodiewithdahoodie) Mike and Will have been dating for a while and it's their 6 month anniversary. They still want to keep it a secret, but they're also very handsy with each other after finally getting the boy of their dreams… Featuring the self-proclaimed Hickey King.

When Should I Have Noticed? by Matto (@mattuhoh) Michael Wheeler is equally jealous and desperately in love with Will, and the party just wants to live their lives Post-Vecna. Secret relationship.

[thewritersaddictions]

Prom Night ‘86: Steve Harrington- All Over

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Aged up, 18+, Steve fucking Harrington, Season 4 Steve vibes, soft and sweet.

Summary: You'd rather not go prom, you'd rather spend with your older boyfriend.

A/n- firefly-graphics for dividers; This is the last in the '86 Series.

WC- 2.4k

Stranger Things Master List // The Adults Master List // Series Master List // Prom Night '8 Master List

Prom was made out to the best thing in your life, but not everything was like that and you knew that. More than you really honestly should at this point in your life. New at the whole adult thing you had been through the ringer with Steve already.   

The upside down had been a part of your life for the past few years. You had watched from the side lines as Steve kept every single one of those kids safe. He’d put his life on the line for any of them, but especially Dustin and it showed in everything that Steve did for the kids. Drives to the mall, pick-up and drop-offs. This was your last year in high school, having been pushed back for some reason your parents were in a happy enough mood to explain to you.  

Spending most of your time in your class, and at Steve house. Yes, here was another set of parents with their heads so far up their asses, they didn’t even notice when their daughter was missing from dinner, missing from her bed in the morning, or to even notice that she didn’t yell back when the two of them slipped out of the front door to another important business meeting.  

That’s what Steve and you had connected on. The imbalance of your parents never being home, and the balance of how you fell in the large friend group. “You know you’re like those kids' dad, right?” I asked Steve one day; he looked over at me with a face of bewilderment. Crazy that I had even said those words.  

“Yeah, and you’re like their mom you know that.” Steve came back with. I could only smile something about his words busted you up with a larger ego, but pride. You felt prideful, not only had Steve saved those kids but so had you. Saved them when they all came over to Steve and needed advice. When El came over with a complicated feeling, when Max had no one else to turn to about her home-life, oh poor Will had even showed up his puppy eyes casting down on the ground. You knew what he was trying to say without him having to say it all.  

Yeah, you had saved them. Not from scary upside-down monsters but from the human emotion, the human mistake, and just plainly being human and having no fucking clue what they were doing. Whatever made Steve Harrington attracted to you, was something you hadn’t seen before. Something you never loved about yourself, something you would never be able to see.  

A great heart that Steve had beating in his chest. The man made up of gold but giving it to everyone else. That’s what Steve was. Regardless of that the end of the school year was coming about. Your last year in high school already having spent a little too long in the shaky old building of Hawkins High. A senior and a junior had bumped in the hallways.  

Steve and Y/n.  

The power couple of the school, but once Steve left a graduating senior of the glass of ‘85. It all was very slow, a durry kind of feeling drifted over the school. You walked alone in the hallways, and mostly kept to yourself besides a grateful friend that you and Steve shared.  

Robin Buckley and had nearly forced her way into your lives. Nearly forcing her every waking breath talking to you. You just wanted the year to be done, you wanted out of the life you were living stuck in the small building, stuck knowing that while you were here getting your diploma. Steve was out working, at the family video store.  

“You know prom is coming up?” Robin said as she ran towards you in the all. You carried yourself with such grace, such a powerful mask of grace without Steve by your side. “Prom?” You let the conversation continue. “Yeah, you know where you dress up, go out and get “drunk”, and whatever else you do.” Robin said quoting drunk. You rolled my eyes. “You going?” She continued on. “What? I don’t know. I just learned that we even were going to have prom.” You said as you finally made it to your next classroom door. Robin left you with a wave.  

For the rest of the day, all you thought about was prom, and asking Steve what he thought about it. But of course, that was not what happened. Instead, Robin had gotten to Steve who was parked in the parking lot. Leaning up against the hood of his car. “So, are you going to take her?” I heard Robin ask. I walked slowly up to the two of them. “I don’t know Rob, if she doesn’t want to go that’s fine by me. We can spend the night at my house, do anything else.” Steve said, his eye catching me as I walked towards the two of them. “Why don’t you worry about asking out Vickie to prom huh/” Steve said wrapping his arm around my waist. Settling the both of us against the hood.  

A stumbling Robin was always funny, even if she could never manage to get her words out after that. Spring wasn’t that far along, and according to Robin prom was just in a week, but I had already decided that you weren’t going. I didn’t really need that part of the high school experience.  

The rest of the week past by with a breeze. A few tests here and there, and always the busy talking Robin that walked beside me during transitions. “Whatever do you think about going to prom?” She asked you again. Rolling your eyes around Robin had just become your norm. She was always so crazy, talking like a bee. Constant. “I still haven’t.... I haven’t talked to Steve about it yet.” You spoke.  

Again, Robin and Steve stood at his car waiting for you to travel out of the old Hawkins building. “What are you doing now, Robin?” Steve asked as Robin run up towards you. “I’m asking her now since she just won’t do it.” Robin said as she dragged you closer to the car. “So, are you going to prom?” She asked. Her eyes big with curiosity.  

Steve looked down at you. A small smile on his face. You licked your lips. The thought of having to get all balled up wasn’t your style, and the thought of dragging Steve back into this bullshit wasn’t something you wanted to do either.  

“No.” You, said. Your voice small. “What?? Why??” Robin said next to you. “Steve, you aren’t really going to let her not go to her prom, right?” She questioned him. With a roll of his eyes, he looked over her a arched brow. “Yes, sure I am. Y/n and I can have a lot more fun without a bunch of drunk assholes at prom.” Steve said kissing your head softly.  

Just like you said instead of getting dressed up and running into prom looking like a dumb princess. Steve picked you up, sweats and an old sweatshirt that Steve had sort of given you. It fit you perfectly. Steve smiled as you got into the passenger side of the car. “So, what so you have planned for us tonight?” You asked. A happy smile crossing your face. “Oh, you just wait, I’ve got a few great movies from family video. Oh, and a shit ton of food since I gather, you’ll be staying the night.” Steve said looking down at your duffel.  

“Yeah, I assumed that it would be okay if I stayed the night. I don’t really wanna leave your house once I’m all comfy.” You spoke. Steve had already backed out of your drive way. Steve shook his head, and drove back to his house, the drive wasn’t too long, but the longer you sat in his car the longer you leaned into his side. His arm coming to wrap around your shoulder pulling you even closer.  

Closer then humanly possible, but still. The radio wasn’t on, you watched the trees go by as the car’s headlights streamed past the dark road. Your eyes closed as the warmth of Steve engulfed you. The car came to a slow stop, and when you opened your eyes there you were at Steves.  

Steve being the ever so gentle person he was, shook you softly awake. “We are here babe.” He said before taking the key out of the car. You walked slowly next to Steve has he carried your bag to the front door. He walked you towards the couch. Letting you flop down on the rather hard couch. Steve was gone for only a bit, and as your sobered up to being awake again you settled better on the couch.  

When Steve came back it was with a few cans of soda, a bowl of popcorn and a few of the VHS that he had said he picked out for the two of you. “So, what do you think about Top Gun or Little Shop of Horrors.” Said Steve as he sat down next to you. “Whatever you babe.” You said with a small yawn.  

The movie went on without a hitch. Top Gun was what Steve had chosen. His eyes were never so kept on the tv like they had been. He had cried a little bit getting deep into the story line. “Haven’t you already watched this movie three times already.” You spoke. You were sure that the kids had dragged him to see it at least once already. “Well... that was just for the kids you see.” Steve said digging into the bowl of popcorn.  

You shifted on the couch. Instead getting into his lap. He was so warm, that you couldn’t help yourself with getting closer to him. Steve didn’t stop you, helping you get settled into his touch. An arm slung around your waist keeping your close as possible.  

The next movie played; thought you think that neither one of you were paying attention to it. The music could be heard from behind you, but as you clung to Steve you started to want more and more attention. Steve crept both of his hands towards you’re your rear. Resting them there before going back to watch the next movie. You couldn’t help but feel left out even though he was holding you.  

You sighed heavily in his ear. “What are you doing Y/n?” Steve questioned you. His hand coming to slowly rub a circle in your back. “Nothing... Nothing at all. I promise you.” You said in his ear. “Whatever Y/n.” Steve said going back to his movie.  

From there it only got worse. The attention you were so desperately craving was something that Steve wasn’t giving you. So, you did what any lady would do. Something dramatic, something crazy because well that’s the only way.  

You climbed from Steve grasp. You thought for a moment. You didn’t have the nicest clothes on underneath. You had just your normal panties on and an old ragged bra. Honestly though you didn’t care, Steve would take you for whatever you had on, it didn’t take much for him to get distracted and ravage you.  

Climbing from Steve grasp had caused attention to be brought to you and your plan. “Where are you going?” He asked you. “Nowhere baby.” You whispered. As you stood in front of the tv you stripped out of your sweatshirt. That old blue bra that no matter what caught Steve attention.  

“Y/n?” Steve questioned you. A raised brow, suspicion written all over your face. “What are you doing?” He asked leaning forwards. Practically following ever action, as I threw the old sweatshirt into the hallway. I walked away; he was forced to follow behind me. Up the stairs I walked and with that a pair of sweatpants came falling behind me.  

He was practically climbing the stairs to reach me. You winked down at me. All I was wearing at this point was panties and a bra, yet there was Steve following up behind me. A desperate man chasing that endless feeling. I was already in Steves bedroom by the time he had made it up the stairs. His clothes were also discarded in the hallway. “Look at you big boy.” You said seductively. Words mixed with an effortless motion of your body.  

There you two were. In the bed, Steve hovering over you. His hands roaming all over your body without even thinking. His hands coming up to cup your breasts through the loose fabric of the bra. Nipple’s taunt, pushing through the fabric. A smirk played over Steve face, a snarky expression. Steve knew what he was doing, doing to your body and to your mind.  

“Come on, play with me.” You said through soft moans. Steves touch never got to rough, just enough pressure as he teased your clit through the wet fabric of your panties. He was loving the control you were giving to him. There you were loving the control you didn’t have. You had teased Steve with laying his lap, and then the strip tease. It all had led to Steve cock sitting uncomfortably in his boxers. A huge bulge pushing against the fabric of his boxers.  

Before you know it, Steve was stripping you of your panties, and bra. Throwing them in his room, the heat between your bodies was great. Grand even, the sweat of sex seeping between us as Steve lined himself up. His cock sleeving itself in your soaked pussy. Tights and painful even just for a moment, you would never get used to the size of Steves cock has he pumped himself into you.  

Moans bouncing off of Steves bedroom walls. Nail marks falling down Steves back, purple hickeys on your skin. All around your neck, down the valley of your breasts. Some were placed on your stomach. An aching feeling coming to erupt sooner rather than later in the pit of your stomach. You clawed at Steves back. Your legs wrapping around Steve waist, dragging and pulling him closer.  

“Come now, baby. I know you wanna let go. Just let go for me.” Steve whispered in your ear. With that you let go around each other. Falling in perfect harmony. Your moans and screams on Steves name and curses. Steve falling was great, loud and just about you as it was about himself. Curses mixed with your names screamed louder then you.  

You laid together in your arms. Breath trying to catch on. “Now wasn’t that much better than some lame dancing party.” Steve said. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer. “Of course, this is better than some lame party.” You answered back. “I like your company more than others.” You said.  

Completed on: 12/26/22

Posted On: 12/27/22

The Adults- @yourfavdummy

[bea-does-stuff]

House prom (Shinsou x reader)

Warnings: mentions of bullying, insecure shinsou and fluff

Word count: 772

Summary: Shinsou doesn’t want to go to the ua prom, he hates social events, but you can’t just let him be all alone~

You will always be a mystery to Shinsou, from day one, you were weirdly nice to him, even if he was in class 1-c and you 1-a, you always tried to get his attention or spend time with him.

           Why are you talking to me? 

           Why are you being so nice?

Those were his main thoughts whenever you spent time with him, for the longest time he was cold to you, tried to make you leave, told you he didn’t want or need friends, but somehow you kept on persisting, and after a while, his attitude slightly changed.

You soon became his… friend? I guess? He started talking more about his life, his issues and his interests. But of course, he just had to fall for you, great, now at night not only will he have thoughts that keep him awake, but they'll also be about you

“Oh come on! You're really not going?” you pouted, Shinsou nodded, you had asked him what he was planning on wearing for the U.A prom next week, only to learn that he didn’t want to go “But Toshi~ It’ll be fun!” Despite your attempts at convincing him he wouldn’t budge, he didn’t want to go to prom if you weren’t his partner, and even if you did choose to go with him, what if people looked down on you for it? He already has a reputation as a “villain”, he doesn’t need people harassing you too.

You never knew that Shinsou was bullied, he didn’t want to tell you, because he knew you would do something about it, he knew you would beat the shit out of anyone who dared make fun of him. And he didn’t wanna risk the chance of you getting in trouble.

Anyway, even after practically begging him to come to prom, you eventually scoffed “Fine! Stay at home then dummy!” Shinsou knew you were kidding, but that did kinda hurt, but yea, he was planning on staying home on prom day, social events stressed him out, and it’s not like you wanted to go with him as anything more than friends, so what was the point? There wasn’t any.

it was prom night, and as Shinsou said, he stayed home, he wrapped a blanket around himself, staring at the ceiling of his empty house, he was trying to get some sleep for once but of course he couldn’t, instead he just drowned himself in his thoughts and imagination, like he always did.

He began thinking about his training session with Aizawa, then about you, it began with warm memories of you smiling and laughing, but slowly morphed into a nightmare. Shinsou began to let his insecurities dominate his thoughts, what if you didn’t actually like him? What if you talked bad about him behind his back? What if you think he’s a villain…?”

His racing thoughts began to devour him slowly, shoving his face against a couch pillow in search of comfort. God, he wanted to see you so bad, he wanted to ask you if you thought he was a monster, but he couldn’t, because you were out there, at the prom.

Or so he thought. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his front door “Toshi? Ya there?” your soft voice called, Shinsou’s mind went blank for a second, holy shit, you’re actually here, he immediately got up and opened the door.

“Uhm.. y/n?” he tilted his head “Why are you here?” You could only smile at Shinsou's question, but after stepping into the house you looked back at him “Yea.. I guess I missed you a lot at the party, so I wanted to hang out with you!” 

Shinsou’s heart skipped a beat, you left prom to hang out with.. Him? Well, he wasn’t complaining. you suddenly looked back at him “I mean- if you don’t mind” Shinsou smiled, it was a small but beautiful smile “No.. it’s ok, i’m not really doing much” You hummed in content at his response.

For the next few hours, all you did was watch a movie on Shinsou’s television, you had already fallen asleep within the first hour of the movie, but shinsou was still awake, trying not to stare at your beautiful sleeping face, he also tried to ignore the fact that you were leaning on him.

He turned off the TV when the movie ended, looking back at your sleeping self, something about how comfortable you looked made his stomach feel weird, kinda like someone was tickling his guts, he instantly looked away from you when it hit him

          “Fuck. I truly am in love...”