#no worries i'm safe and at home right now

[megapteraurelia]

Hii ik you said kenma was a bit hard to write for you but im getting on my hands and knees and begging u for more kenma content rn! ur last kenma fic was sooo goood and i need moree

4 + 4 + 4 + 4.

summary | one rule in life: do not force kenma out of his comfort zone. (because it's mean) warnings | anxiety attack, (does that count as angst?), comforting through word count | 1484. a/n | thank you so much, babes!! i hope you like this! i feel like kenma has a lot of suppressed feelings that he always deals with on his own, a lot of them being not wanting to be perceived by people. i'm also working on the final part of the other kenma fic so hopefully that should come soon :0 !! please let me know what you think! -` ♡ ´-

“where is he?”

kuroo tetsurou’s fingers rubbed the space between his eyes, and he nodded up the stairs to kenma’s room, “thanks for coming. he won’t let anyone in. this hasn’t happened in so long.”

“of course,” you said, taking off your shoes, slightly out of breath, having run all the way from your own home at kuroo’s call. even though he hadn’t sounded panicked over the phone, there was a sense of urgency lying in the timbre of his voice; one that told you that he was worried and would really rather not be. when he offered you water, his shoulders were a little tense, and he kept trying to push back his hair, even though everybody knew how futile of an effort that was.

 kuroo’s hair, for all intents and purposes, was a constant in this life; much like a fact to focus and bank on when things turned sour or when you needed a reality check. at least, throughout all the bullshit and the lemons the universe threw at you, kuroo’s bed hair stayed as messy as it was. 

“thanks, kuroo,” you said, walking past him, and he called out after you: “i owe you ice cream.”

“make that chocolate milk, and you have a deal.”

you lost your smile when you stood in front of the wooden door, knowing that the door was unlocked but not daring to open it. kenma’s privacy was holy, his boundaries unshakeable, and when he felt like he needed to retreat most, there was no way in hell you were going to cross any of them.

so you spoke through the door, “kenma. it’s me.”

there was no answer, but you knew he heard you. as quiet and soft-spoken as he was, he was all the more observant to make up for the lack of talking. a sharp listener, even more cutting eyes, but there was a deep vigilance behind the gold, a duty of care that he tried to stuff deep down as much as possible lest he would have to deal with having his emotions spill out into the open, explain their existence, admit that he cared more than he felt comfortable to feel.

allowing your back to slide against the door down, you made yourself comfortable, slinging your arms around your legs, cheek digging into your knee.

“kuroo called me, but i think you already know that,” you said softly and you felt a weight settle on the other side of the door, a dull thump sounding out; the back of a head being leaned against the wood right next to your ear. you chose not to acknowledge it, “he said that the principal made you talk in front of the school, even though he tried not to involve you.”

so close to the door, you could pick up on the little quick breaths he was forcing through his mouth and you purposefully took an audible deep breath in before continuing, “that was pretty shitty of him, but despite being put on the spot, you did really well, kenma,” and exhaled just as loudly.

his breath hitched and you faintly heard the drumming of his fingers on the ground, the nervousness seeping out of his pores, the energy that he usually was able to contain so easily all over the place now. 

another inhale, “you’re not in front of anybody anymore, kenma, it’s over. you’re here, alone and safe, nobody is watching you anymore,” another exhale. slowly he started matching up with you, though his breaths were still tinged with a little despair, heavy and panicked.

you breathed with him for a while, focusing on a specific rhythm, and asked him to hold his breath at times to stop his body from hyperventilating, forcefully pushing out the air as you talked, reminding him that he had suffered through those anxiety attacks before and came out of them fine each time, that he was safe and unharmed.

“my heart—” he breathed out, one, two, three, four, “—hurts.”

“i know, kenma. it will pass, i promise.”

his voice was so quiet, so tired, even more faint through the thickness of the door, “don’t go.”

“i won’t.”

“then why—” long inhale, holding, long exhale, “—do you sound so far away?”

you turned around at that; your fingernails resting on the wood, and you knocked with them, not wanting to startle him with your knuckles nor force him out of the dissociation that wanted to hug him like a cloak, “can i come in, kenma?”

instead of answering, you heard muffled shuffling and then the door knob turning. he didn’t open the door fully, but you knew that the little squeaking of the hinges was invitation enough. 

you wasted no time in pushing it open, not even bothering to get up on your feet, just immediately crawling in, knowing that he hadn’t moved far. and you were right; there he was: kozume kenma with trembling shoulders that he tried to suppress, damp strands clinging to his neck and his temple, fingers incessantly drumming on his legs now, the other clutching his black shirt, fisting the material. 

his eyes, usually so attentive, were far away.

“oh, kenma,” you sighed, forcing yourself to use his name instead of any endearments even though your tongue was used to using all kind of nicknames, but you wanted to ground him, wanted him to come back and not fall down any whirlpools of catastrophic thinking, “is it okay if i touch you, mhm?”

he nodded, quick and almost imperceptible, dragging a deep breath into his body, fingers tensing up then releasing the tension again. his shoulders followed, his abdomen, his legs, trying to let out all the pent up tension that worked itself into his muscles during his anxiety flaring up. your hands found neck and you pressed your fingers into his flesh in a rhythm he could follow, still breathing with him.

“i’m here, you’re okay,” you said quietly, voice calm and controlled, his pulse irregular underneath your fingertips.

his trembling gradually lessened with every second passing that you whispered any words coming to your mind that would be able to wash away his overwhelming thoughts; his breathing smoothing out, pulse calming, allowing his body to step out of the fight-or-flight mode it found itself in after having been forced outside of its comfort zone so harshly.

kenma’s head found the crook of your neck, his forehead tacky with sweat passing its warmth over to you. his voice was considerably calmer, though still a weak imitation of his usual tenor, “i felt like dying.”

“i don’t want you to die.”

“don’t worry, i have enough scrolls of revivify,” he groaned, trying to bury his face deeper into you, nose inhaling your scent, etching it into the folds of his brain.

you leaned back against the door and his body followed you seamlessly, draping his weight on you, one hand of his gripping the hem of your shirt instead, rubbing the new material between his finger tips, and you smiled against his hair, “i thought you can’t revive in honour mode.”

“don’t even remind me.”

you laughed, your fingers still on the back of his neck, nails drawing shapes onto his skin, and you felt goosebumps erupt on his skin. 

he sighed, his eyes closing, hiding the intense golden irises from you, “i’m tired. sleep with me.”

it took you a lot of coaxing to convince him to get up from the floor and the position he was in, knowing he would hurt his neck that way. so even though it was only 6pm in the evening, at the end, you found your body entangled with his on the bed, his face buried in your neck again, a hesitant kiss pressed against your skin, one hand having sneaked up your shirt to hook his finger into your bra. 

“thank you,” a breeze of air, low sound, almost like it wants to hide, but sincere, “everything feels right with you.”

before you could even answer, he had already fallen asleep, breathing softly against you, stray tears having dried on his lashes. your fingers didn’t stop threading through his hair, thumb following the curve of his ear, feeling his steady and now calm heartbeat against your chest, the twitch of his leg in his sleep.

“psst,” a whisper broke you out of daydreaming and your eyes scurried over to the door. the universe’s constant factor stared back at you with furrowed brows, sending a thumbs up poised as a question and you nodded. 

kuroo’s shoulders visibly relaxed, the relief palpable, and he stood there for a moment, hands propped on his hips, shaking his head, exhausted from the worry he had tried to bury deep inside.

he disappeared for a second, before coming back up the stairs to station two milk packs onto kenma’s desk. chocolate milk for you, banana milk for kenma.

[cherrriesinthespring]

72 with dom!spencer pls 😫

again, tried to be inclusive!!

warnings: spanking, punishment, talk of later punishment and a belt but not shown, teasing, marks left on the reader. use of daddy!!

-----------------

a dinner party at rossi's mansion, the third one you'd been to since getting with spencer. you knew his coworkers pretty well, not only based on his perfect descriptions of each, but also you're friends with a few.

earlier that night, spencer had teased you relentlessly as you got ready. it started when you were in the mirror, styling your hair. he came up behind you, whispering in the low tone he knows you love "can't wait to pull on this later.."

you weren't used to him having such an interest in dirty talk, he was never one for it unless you were the one guiding him through something you begged for. one thing is though, he loves seeing you flustered.

slipping on your outfit, he came over again, as you perfected the last touches. "I've watched you put this on so I can figure out how long it'll take to get it off" that rendered you speechless.

you begged him to touch you, he refused. your asks got more and more simple, a kiss on the lips, on the cheek, a hug?! none of it. so you decided to make it impossible for him not to touch you, no matter what kind of touch it was.

the party began, you didn't drink all that much, neither did spencer. one glass of champagne loosened you up enough to put your plan into action. sauntering over to derek, you asked him to dance, why would he deny you?

spencer eyed both of you from across the garden, his hands dangerously close to your hips. the touch wasn't particularly intimate, but enough to set spencer off. derek seemed to notice the way spencer watched closely, fidgeting, his hands gripping his glass so hard it could've broke.

he doesn't say anything though he ignores it when spencer comes up behind you, murmuring something about "need to talk to you" biting back a smirk, you let go of derek and follow spencer inside, his steps are calculated, eager, he knows what he wants and he's going to get it.

once you two are tucked in a guest room, far off from any of the main lounge rooms (just to be safe) he scoffs at the innocent batting of lashes.

"what do you think you're doing, Y/N?" hes agitated, pulling his tie off as he speaks, reaching for his top button. your head tilts, acting all sweet and normal once again, voice light and airy.

"what do you mean?" that spurs him on further. he comes close, lips connecting with yours, his hand wrapping around your neck, practically dwarfing it.

"strip off your bottom half. lay down, ass up. now." as soon as he's finished you begin stripping off like he said, you know he won't ask again. you're also finally relieved you're getting touched.

you strip, he pushes you down over the mattress, your fave buries into the white fabric, it almost reminds you of a hotel bed. the sheets smell better than a hotel bed though, and you know it's rossi's place. it's probably cleaner than a-

'SLAP' and a moan erupts from you. you choke on the breath you attempt to take in and he smirks. another one, he can see the curve of your ass changing colours, the marks visible.

"please- FUCK, fuck- I'm sorry.. I'll be good, daddy i swear!" you're loud, but it's no worry, the party is out back. another loud slap echoes through the room and you hear it before you feel it. you're practically soaked, trying to rut your hips against the bed to feel something, it doesn't work.

"I'm going easy on you, you should be getting the belt right now " his hands play with the plush fat of your ass, squeezing and grabbing at what he can. another two slaps across marked skin and he pulls you up by the hair, smirking at the mess between your thighs.

"we're going back out there, keep your hands to yourself, and no more champagne. we need you to be sober for when we get home, eat too, you'll need the energy" you know he means it.

he's gentle as he slips your outfit back on, and can't help roughly shoving you against the wall to make out with you a little before intertwining your hands. you walk out with a smile on your face, as promised, you fill your plate and opt for soft drinks.

[legendofmorons]

Can we have a one-shot where reader is Aryll's and Wind's older sibling, and when the Chain visits them in his era they form a little crush on one of the other Link's? You can choose which one is the crush, but I just want a cute little story of Aryll and Wind teasing/playing wingman for reader.

Absolutely! This was really fun to write!

How to get a boyfriend (ft. Gremlin little siblings)

Rating: T for cursing

Relationships: Wind & Aryll & reader, Time x reader

Genre: fluff (crack?)

Summary: When you meet the chain, you quickly develop a crush on time, and to your horror, Wind and Aryll are both aware and helping.

Warning: Wind locks you in a bathroom, but no particular room description. (It's all in fun as the trope from fics)

Other: Wind is a little shit and I love him.

-------

You are in the middle of sweeping the porch when you hear your little brother, Link, call out to you. It's a relief to know he's safe. His habit of getting dragged into trouble always worried you.

"(Y/n)!" The tween calls, rushing to reach you.

You drop the broom just in time to catch him. You hug him as soon as he throws himself at you. A small grunt escapes you, but you're upright.

"You're so late for dinner." You say with a smile.

"I brought some friends, got enough for eight more? Also, I'm going by Wind right now." Wind asks.

"Excuse me?" You ask, looking up from the hug to see a group of eight heavily armed males.

Wind steps back, letting go of you. "These are my friends."

You immediately hone in on the tallest, who looks like he's fought too many battles. He's looks like a Greek statue.

"Friends?" You ask, pulling your gaze away from the man.

"Yeah, they've watched my back."

"Well, anyone who can keep you safe is a friend in my book." You say. "Come on in, I'll start some dinner."

You lead them inside, holding the door for them. They all say thanks, some more enthusiastic than others.

Wind shuts the door, almost vibrating with excitement.

The large group is clustered in the living room, looking at you and your brother.

"I'm (Y/n), thanks for watching out for my brother." You offer a wave.

"Nice to meet you. I'm time." The tallest says with a nod.

"Warriors."

"I'm Hyrule!"

"Four."

"I'm Twilight, thank you for havin' us."

"I'm Sky, it's nice to meet you."

"I'm Wild."

"Legend."

You look to Wind, silently asking if the weird names are a group thing.

He just grins at you, which means they are.

"I'm sure Aryll is around somewhere, Grandma is out for a few weeks. Make yourselves at home. I'm going to start dinner." You say.

Making your way to the kitchen, you started trying to figure out what you can make that will feed twelve people.

Chili? Soup? Kabobs?

Who knows.

Maybe just soup and sandwiches?

As you consider your options, you hear someone clear their throat. You jump, but only a little.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to know if you wanted help? I know you weren't expecting to cook for so many." Time explains, looking a little awkward.

Huh.

That's actually really sweet, and you aren't going to turn away help.

You smile, maybe a little shy, "I'd love that. Thank you."

Cooking dinner and then serving it goes much faster with a second set of hands helping you.

Time is pretty good at letting you boss him around a little in the name of feeding everyone.

You enjoy dinner conversations, but every time you find yourself looking at Time, you get a nudge from Wind's elbow and a giggle from Aryll.

Dinner ends, and you, of course, offer the group to stay in your house.

You help the group set up sleeping arrangements in the living room, pointedly ignoring the way your sister giggles when you have to ask Time to help you reach something.

Honestly, the way the man comes up behind you to help is- flustering.

You are so grateful when they all go to bed.

-------

From the moment Time offered to help you cook, you've had no hope of being anything but smitten.

Unfortunately for you, Wind has noticed and takes great joy in teasing you. As is the right of younger siblings.

Aryll is, as always, happy to follow the leaf of your brother.

This all leads to them making kisses faces at you from behind Time, suggesting you ask him for help in suggestive voices, and even just whispering his name at you randomly.

Somehow, they even have Wild and Hyrule in on it, too.

Wind also somehow managed to keep leaving you and Time alone with several winks.

Aryll is a little less creative and either giggles or follows Wind's lead.

Although she did ask Time if he was with someone and when he said no, she just gave you a wide grin.

Little brats.

As much as you love them, you could just shake them sometimes.

Like now. Now you'd kind of like to shake them.

Really, you should have seen it coming, but lo and behold, here you are.

Trapped in the bathroom with Time, all thanks to a ploy your siblings cooked up.

They had told you and Time both that the other needed help fixing the shower head, and here you are, trapped.

"We aren't letting you out until you talk!" Wind calls.

"Link! You're so grounded!" You call back loudly while smacking the door with your palm.

Time just sighs, pulling his hand down his face. "This is ridiculous."

"Talk!" Aryll calls.

"Grounded!" You call back.

There's the laughter of your two siblings. They are definitely laughing at the predicament they caused. You know, like jerks.

You lean your forehead against the door with a groan.

Breaking down the door will just cause problems for your grandmother.

"Are you... okay?" Time asks.

You keep your forehead against the door but sigh. "Siblings."

"I've heard they can be... a handful." Time sympathizes to your commiseration.

You snort at that. "They can be, little brats."

"You love them, though."

"Of course I do."

Time hums once.

Giving into the situation, you pull away from the door and straighten up. You turn, facing the man.

He watches you, face soft like usual. (Like it is for you specifically, but you haven't figured that out just yet.)

Well, you suppose now is a good time to tell him you're going with them when they leave again.

"I'm going with you." You say firmly.

"What?" He blinks.

You set your shoulders. "When you leave again, I'm going with you all. My brother is going and I'm going with."

"I don't think -"

"I'm going. You don't have to like it, but it's happening. Besides. Someone should be there to help you boys take care of yourselves."

Time stares at you, mind racing through all the possibilities this could bring. He dosen’t want to put you at risk. That would kill Wind if something happened...

It would kill him, too. He isn't-

Time can admit he's got feelings for you. He just dosen’t know how to push them away because every time he tries ypu go and do something to make them flare up again.

Like now, you stand stubborn and loyal as you announce your intent to join some sort of wild goose chase for an unknown evil.

The worst part is... he wants you to join them. He wants to be around you.

"It's dangerous."

"I don't care. I'm going." You say simply.

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"But you can?"

"That's different." Time says simply.

"Not really."

"I'm a hero -"

"You are a mortal. You are a strong, kind man who needs to learn how to not be self-sacrificing!"

Time stills, gaze fixed on you as something flickers across his face. "I... I didn't know you cared so much."

"Of course I do. You're important to Wind."

"Oh." He says as disappointment wells up.

You give a wry smile. "Besides, I like you myself."

"You... do?"

There's a bang at the door before Wind calls out to you. "TELL THE ACTUAL TRUTH!"

"JUST KISS!" Aryll suggests helpfully.

Time feels cold as the realization that ypur younger siblings know his heart towards you. Oh.

That's embarrassing.

"Oh my Hylia." You groan. "I am so sorry about them."

"It's- okay..."

"This is all so stupid. See... I uh- I have a real big crush on you, and they have it in their heads that you feel the same."

Time feels his heart speed up. He's old enough he shouldn't get caught up in things like this... but he does.

The words you say go right to his heart.

He is left trying to find the words to respond.

"Anyway... sorry, I know that makes things awkward." You say with a strained smile.

"No. It's okay. I actually feel the same." Time manages to say.

"Oh. Well fuck." You laugh a little breathlessly.

"What?"

"They are never going to let me live this down."

"Who- oh! Wind is definitely going to live it up." Time says.

You just shake your head. "He is."

"So... Are you still up to coming with us?"

"Of course. Maybe I can take you on a date sometime while we're out saving the world." You offer, feeling cheesey even as you say it.

Time nods, lips pulling up. "I'd like that. Maybe we can build something good together."

"I'd like that." You echo with a smile.

The bathroom door opens, letting you see the fleeing siblings.

Time offers you a hand and a wink, "Shall we go deal with that?"

"Only if we are getting them back."

"Of course." He says.

You take his hand, letting him lead you out of the room.

This feels like the beginning of something beautiful.

But don't worry, Wind and Aryll spend years and years reminding you of their meddling and matchmaking.

Except now, they tease you about your sappiness and your 'debt' to them.

(Ypu get them back, don't worry.)

[silver---linings]

"I don't doubt it. After the stunt I had pulled, he's going to have other knights watch me like how Lamorak watches money fall into his palms so I don't sneak off again." He chuckles. "I wasn't supposed to come after the dragon in the first place, I was told it was foolish, so I might not allowed to leave [name of King Arthur's home city] on my own for some time, but maybe I can at least convince Percival to come next time."

Galahad's eyes light up when Beithir accepts his offer. "Not to worry, Beithir! I'll drop you off in an obscure spot to keep us out of sight if the dragon were to be returning!"

"Knowing that he just found me, I doubt he's gonna get off my ass, so Gawain may as well be coming with."

"Are you done yet, Galahad?! It shouldn't take long to tell someone goodbye!" Gawain shouts to the knight.

Galahad walked back to Gawain with Beithir in tow. "Gawain, I wish to escort my friend back home."

The other knight raised a brow. "Can't he just walk there? He's walking fine to me."

"But Gawain." Galahad gestured to Beithir's bandages. "My friend is hurt. Not to mention his home is a little ways away from this village. I wouldn't want him to possibly get attacked while he's walking home. I insist you allow me to safely drop him off."

"You are in no position to ask anything of me, Galahad. I don't trust that you won't run off again after the stunt you pulled. Not to mention that the King is expecting me to bring you back in one piece as soon as possible."

"It won't be long, and I swear to you that I will not run off again."

Gawain hesitantly thought about it. "Hmm... I don't know. It sounds to me like you want to delay your punishment."

Galahad gets a sly grin. "Just like how you delay returning to the castle whenever you're with that bat woman who works at the local tavern?"

"Eh-! DON'T YOU GO SPREADING LIES!"

"Is it a lie, Gawain? Are you sure I'm not telling the truth?" Galahad has him right where he wants him.

Any eyes that were on Galahad were now on Gawain, and villagers were beginning to gossip.

"Sir Gawain has an affair?"

"I thought he was too serious and committed to his knightly duties to be smitten with anyone."

"Ooh, this is juicy."

Hearing the villagers gossiping about him got Gawain to cave into Galahad's request. "F-Fine! I'll allow you to drop your friend off, but I'm coming with you to ensure that you don't run off again!"

"Thank you, Gawain." Galahad turned to Beithir with a grin before snickering. "Getting him flustered works every time." He whispered to the hedgehog.

[At the drop off point]

"This is as far as I will take you. I don't want to risk the dragon possibly seeing us if it were to be returning home."

Galahad watched as Beithir dismounts from Cerise, willing to offer aid if the other asked. Once Beithir is off his horse, the knight stares at him somberly. "This is where we part ways, my friend. May fate treat you well."

He then watched as Beithir started heading off. No matter how hard he tried to not get too close, Galahad inevitably yearned to spend more time with his new companion. If only there was a way to stay connected somehow...

Wait a minute, there IS a way!

"Beithir, wait a moment!" Once he has his attention, he continues. "Letters! We can still keep in contact with letters through Carrier Chao! How does that sound?"

[Sir Galahad starter for @asktheevilgeniusesson ]

Sir Galahad had been tracking down this monstrous dragon for days now. Hearing word that the dragon was terrorizing villages, the young squire set out to go slay the beast.

He was told he was foolish for going after such a beast, and was told stories of this horrid monster and how it burned down villages, but that wasn't enough to deter the young knight, if anything, the stories fueled his determination to put an end to its reign of terror.

His fellow knights also told him he was being foolish and he's to not take on this quest as he was still fairly new, Percival even tried to dissuade him from taking this quest, but he ignored the other knights, and only pretended to listen to Percival, before sneaking away once the knights were at rest to take on his quest.

Thanks to a traveler, Galahad had been given directions to the location of the dragon's den, and now here he was, standing just outside the very cave the beast is said to be in.

It sets in for the young knight. He's really about to do this. He's about to go into the belly of the beast, alone.

There's no turning back now. He didn't come all this way for nothing. He goes in.

Using the glow of his psychic powers, he navigated his way through the dark cavern. Galahad was a ways in until he saw an orange light further in.

This was it.

He takes a deep breath, steels himself, then let out a war cry as he and his blade goes charging forward.

Imagine his confusion when he finds no dragon, but he does find a grumpy blue hedgehog that made this place his home. "What? You're no dragon."

[insomniamamma]

The One That I Call Baby: Marcus Pike x F!reader

A/N: I have no excuse for this. Peri menopause is fucking wild y'all. I got hit by the horny meteor. And who better to explore something you're not sure of with Marcus Pike?

Warnings: Reader is old enough to be divorced. Reader has a shitty ex. Reader has limited sexual experience. Implied infertility. Shame surrounding sex. Look. My period hit like a freight train and I'm making it everyone else's problem. Face fucking. Blowjob. Toys. Soft!Dom Marcus needs his own warning. Egregious use of Baby as a nickname.

“You checked my search history!” You feel your ears and cheeks going hot. You wish with your whole heart you had a nuclear bunker to crawl into, or maybe a way to launch yourself into the sun.

“You fell asleep with your laptop open,” says Marcus. You can barely glance at him because you know what you’ll see. No judgement, just him, those warm eyes that peer into yours, that see right down to the roots of you.

“You weren’t supposed to see-“ you laugh and it comes out high and strangled, “You’re not even supposed to— your flight-“

“There was an empty seat,” he says, “I wanted to get home to you, Baby.” And you melt. As you always do. The first time Marcus called you Baby you’d almost laughed in his face, sharp retort crawling up your throat and then you’d seen his eyes. Childless and divorced, you were nobody’s baby, but the way he looked at you, the way his hand slid soft along your side to rest on your hip, the feather-light brush of his knuckles against the curve of your cheek, Baby, can I kiss you? And you answered the only way you could.

“Is this something you would like to try?” He asks and you nod, embarrassed. Only ever been with your ex before Marcus, and his idea of foreplay was to kiss you and paw at your tits and then rut his way inside. His idea of changing things up in the bedroom was doggy instead of missionary. Made you feel like sex was a mechanical necessity, a way to get a baby out of things and nothing more. Did the bare minimum to get you wet enough for him to jam himself in there. “Use your words, Baby.” And he watches you mull it over, watches you worry at your lip, and when your eyes flick up to his and you say yeah, it fills him with equal parts pride and melancholy. Grief that you were ever so ashamed of your own desires and your lack of experience (rage at the absolute piece of shit who made you feel this way) pride at how far you’ve come, how safe you feel with him now, and a tinge of sadness about how even the mildest of fantasies cause you such consternation. “Yeah. It just—it was really hot.”

“Suck it,” he murmurs, presses the dildo to your lips. You lay on your shared bed and he stands beside you, cock tenting his boxers. There’s comfort in knowing that he’s as turned on as you. “That’s right. Take it real deep.”

You whimper around the intrusion, slow shallow thrust between your lips, his other hand stroking feather light over your panties, “Show me how you’re gonna suck me. Show me you want it.” Shoves deep into your throat and you buck against his fingers, cry out against the silicone and he draws it slow from your mouth, little teasing movements. "You like this,” says Marcus, traces the silicone cock over your collarbones and across your aching nipples, and when your mouth falls open in a soft cry he pushes his fingers in, salt of his skin on your tongue. “There you go. You need something in that mouth, don’t you, Baby?” Presses the spit-slimed dildo into you, sinks it deep and you whimper. “That won’t do at all, will it?” Thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth, mirroring the movement of the fake cock inside you, his other hand grabs yours and guides you to the toy’s flared base.

Marcus takes himself out, grips the back of your head, and slides himself shallow in your waiting mouth and then withdraws, smearing his leaking head over your lips, draws back when you chase him “-please!” “Please, what?” “Marcus-“ “Words, Baby, you need me? You need me to fuck that pretty mouth while you get yourself off?” Teases your lips with the rough pad of his thumb. “Yes.” “Say it.” “Need your cock in my mouth,” “Good girl.” Slides himself into you, salt of pre cum on your tongue, fills you, soft, velvet skin sliding against your lips, but when try to you draw back he doesn’t let you, grips the back of your head and pushes himself deep, filing your mouth, pushing against the back of your throat, remember the signal, he murmurs, and then snaps his hips and you can’t breathe, so full of him, nose pressed into his wiry curls.

“Keep fucking yourself. Did I say you could stop?” And you can breathe again, stuttered sob as he pinches a nipple between his fingers. “So pretty like this. So good for me. You can take it even deeper. I know you can.”

Your body burns, you nipples throb like embers, soft involuntary cries around Marcus’s cock as the thrusts into your mouth, shallow and teasing and then so deep you lose your breath, pinned like a bug as he rocks rocks rocks into you, bright edged spots dancing behind your eyes, and his hand folds over yours, pushing the toy deeper into you, matching the rhythm of his cock in your mouth. You keen, muffled cries around him, need like a coiled spring in your belly, wound ever tighter. “Come for me, Baby,” he says, “Come with my cock in your mouth.” Purr of his voice tips you over the edge and you arch hard against him, even as he spills down your throat, scream around him, voice muffled my him, breath constrained by him. You come. Hard. Pinned. Writhing. And then he’s withdrawing, pulls his softening cock from your mouth, and the toy from your weakly fluttering cunt, feel wetness slip warm from you, and that old embarrassment tries to creep in but he’s there, Marcus is right there, gathering you into his arms, kissing your wanting mouth, dipping his tongue between your trembling lips, soft and languid and unhurried, kisses the crown of your head.

“Pretty Baby,” he speaks into your sweaty hair, cups the back of your head in his warm palm and tucks you into the hollow of his shoulder, “You did so well for me.” And you prickle with a mix of shame and pride.

The rise and fall of his chest, calloused fingers tracing over the curves of your arms, the planes of your shoulders, his breath in your hair lulls you. “Marcus?” “Hmmm?” “I like when you call me Baby. Makes me feel safe. I don’t know why.” His arms tighten around you. “You’re always safe with me. Always.

[rainbowcrowley]

had 3 stressful days at work + 2 triggering situations at school and a mental breakdown due to said triggers today.

yeah no i think i'll stay at home tomorrow, i've had enough this week thanks byeeee

[ruvviks]

I ONCE KNEW A MAN WHO HAD FIRE IN HIS EYES // BLOODY RIGHT HAND, HE HAD TAKEN HIS ENEMIES' LIVES

taglist (opt in/out): @shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart, @vvanessaives, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman, @celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister, @dameaylin, @killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose

[80s-ghost-boy]

.

[adara-et-al]

well. *i* think my response to having something mildly ominous said before the house was left empty and everyone i love is out on the road was actually completely reasonable and the sobbing breakdown in the kitchen because i didn't get to say "I love you" to any of them before they left home was more than well within my rights. It's not like i could do anything if something happened, even without a warning.

gonna blame my dad specifically for this one, and the way he handled fights with my mom when i was little. we're gonna add on the more than once i was left somewhere after pickup time because they were running late and i didn't know why but i knew one of the reasons it could be was Real Real Bad (currently superstitious, scared of invoking problems). Did it ever turn out it was that way? no but that didn't fucking stop me from assuming it could be.

if you're reading this and know who i am, if you could just leave a little explainer by your ominous goodbye statements, especially if you're leaving them before i've woken up, that'd be great.

[pinkkop]

Why I wanted more from Pai -

Cherry Magic Thailand

I'm absolutely loving Cherry Magic Th!!

I love how Tay and New are creating a new version of Adachi and Kurosawa and giving this lovely story a fresh take.

However, I'm struggling with Pai and Rock's story, because as much as I think they're very cute, it's hard for me to ignore the characters they're based on. Specifically the character of Fujisaki from the original Cherry Magic series, which Pai seems to be based on, who in the Japanese version is perfectly happy being single and doesn't want a partner. So why are GMMTV insisting on giving her Thai counterpart one?!

Fujisaki was great representation for aro and ace people while also just being a good example that you don't need to be in a relationship to be happy.

Stills from the original Cherry Magic.

Being in a romantic relationship isn't the end all and be all and it's such a rare thing for QLs to show characters just being happy on their own. Instead they have to give everyone a romantic relationship like they're some kind of Asian Oprah.

Don't get me wrong!

I'm often watching QLs for the romantic relationships but sometimes I just wish they didn't have to pair up everyone. "Pair the spare" isn't a good motto to make shows by and I wish less QLs would do so and the character of Pai was the perfect oppotunity for GMMTV to start.

I desperately hoped Pai was going to be representation for people who live outside of social norms but with the latest episode (ep. 11) it doesn't seem like this will be the case. And as an ace person who will probably never find a partner, it honestly hurt to see GMMTV not include that part of Fujisaki's character when they created the character of Pai.

I still have a teeny tiny glimmer of hope left but with how much time the show has spent showing how much Rock adores Pai and how Pai wants a romantic relationship I doubt they'll have Pai break Rock's heart in the final episode(s?).

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Just read your telling the LADS Men you're pregnant hcs and AAAA I loved it so muchhh. the boys r so silly. SOOO May I request LADS men when reader goes into labour when they're away? Sorry I just love chaos 🤭

The Baby is Coming!

Giving your lads man a call when you're going into labor while he's not with you. A/N: Hey nonnie I bet you thought I forgot about this request huh? I didn't sorry I took so long to finish it. Love you 🩵

Zayne

Calling Zaynes' office

Zayne: Dr. Zayne speaking Tara: It’s coming Zayne: What’s coming?

Fumbling noises from you snatching the phone from Tara

MC: Your big headed child Zayne my water just broke

Loud clattering noises on Zaynes' end

Zayne: I’m on my way home now MC: Tara is bringing me to the hospital just stay there Zayne: Right right … I'll report to labor and delivery MC: *groans in pain* Zayne: How bad is the pain MC: I’ll punch you in the nuts so you can experience it firsthand Zayne: I’ll let that one slide because I know it’s the contractions talking

Rafayel

MC: The twins are coming Rafayel: WHAT!? MC: YEA! Rafayel: They’re 3 weeks early MC: No shit sherlock *groans in pain* Rafayel: Tell them I said stop hurting mommy MC: Mommy is gonna curb stomp daddy if he isn’t here within the next 5 minutes Rafayel: Don’t worry your savior is on the way MC: You’re not funny hurry up Rafayel: Can’t you just cross your legs? MC: Nvm I’ll drive myself Rafayel: Okay okay I’m sorry I’m just freaking out MC: I have not one but two crotch goblins trying to rip me in half I need you to lock in or so help me God I will fry you up and serve you with a side of fries and extra tartar sauce you hear me? Rafayel: Yes ma’am

Xavier

Xavier: I have everything ready to read to your tummy tonight MC: You’ll be reading to our son instead Xavier: What do you mean? MC: My water broke while I was at Philos Xavier: Why are you there? MC: I was picking out the flowers I want in my hospital room *groans in pain* Xavier: I’m coming don't worry MC: You coming is what caused all of this but it's fine Jeremiah is driving me to the hospital now Xavier: ……does he drive better than me? MC: Xav please don’t piss me off right now……. Xavier: Right heading there now MC: Make sure you bring the baby bag Xavier: I have it ... unlike Jeremiah MC: NOT NOW!

Sylus

Sylus: I'm getting a distress call from Mephisto what's wrong? MC: The baby is coming Sylus: Is this another case of Braxton Hicks? MC: No its a case of amniotic fluid all over the damn kitchen floor Sylus: I'm on my way don’t move MC: *groaning in pain* I can barely do anything right now Sylus: Remember the breathing techniques MC: This is all your fault Sylus: I know Princess you can squeeze my hand as hard as you want MC: I’m gonna break it Sylus: Good luck with that MC: What did you just say? Sylus: I said I’m sure of that

Caleb

MC: Hey dumbass your big headed child is trying to tear me in two Caleb: Aww are they kicking too hard? MC: Caleb….. Caleb: Don’t tell me MC: Yes my water broke Caleb: Okay don’t worry I’m on my way stay on the phone with me MC: Gideon is already driving me to the hospital meet us there Caleb: ….. MC: You there? Caleb: Is he driving safe? MC: CALEB! Caleb: Right on my way! Uh real quick did you grab the baby bag? MC: Yes Caleb: Do you remember the breathing techniques? MC: Yes Caleb: Did you- MC: STOP WITH THE TWENTY ONE QUESTIONS BEFORE I HANG UP Caleb: Alright I'm done but just so you know you can scream at me all you want I don't mind MC: *Hangs up*

[mmywanda]

Pretty When You Sleep — W.M

——

Pairing: Dark!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Nights are lot more dangerous than you think.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, drugging, blood, murder, stalking, mentions of a knives, strap-on.

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: This is a dark fic, if you find any of the warnings triggering, please do not read. Happy Halloween! men & minors dni.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

——

It started off small.

All the shoes you left in a mess by the door now neatly stacked up, laces undone, just so they were easier to slip on. The lamp you'd accidently leave on before falling asleep, being off when you woke up in the morning. Clothes that were dumped on the floor, suddenly folded up in your drawer.

Then it got weirder.

Your purse being filled with fifty dollar bills on the mornings you worried you wouldn't have enough to afford your groceries. Some of your clothes, specifically underwear, going missing. Your phone being in the other room when you woke up. Waking up with different pyjama bottoms on.

As it got worse, you found yourself confiding in your friend. Well, a little more than a friend, but the two of you had never labelled it. The two of you sat in the corner of a local cafe, coffee warming up your hands. It was a cool autumn day, causing you to wrap up in a scarf and fluffy coat. This crimson coloured scarf had suddenly appeared in your closet, right when you needed it. It should have been wrong to wear something that had inexplicably appeared in your home, but it was cold, and what else were you to do?

"It's just getting weird. Even the leftovers in my fridge that were about to be mouldy are being thrown away. I see it in my garbage bag. And you know me, I don't even throw it out until it's literally gone blue."

Erin laughed, "You're quite careless. And disgusting." Yes, you were, but that wasn't the point!

"Shush. I'm actually worried here. I'm starting to think.. no.. no one can be breaking into my apartment every night, I'd wake up and hear them. God, I think I'm going mad." You mumbled, hand gripping tightly around the coffee mug. It reminded you of the time you'd left a cold cup of tea on the side, and had fallen asleep. When you woke up an hour later, the cup was hot, as if it had just been warmed up again.

"You've added another lock to your door, you don't even have a spare key for it. It's impossible for someone to break in. And you live on the top floor. Honey, you've been exhausted recently, it's not uncommon for people to get forgetful. You probably did those things while sleepy." Erin reassured you, placing a hand over yours.

You sighed deeply, downing the last drops of drink you had left, Erin doing the same. "Yeah, you're probably right. It's just.. strange."

—

As you entered your apartment late at night, instead of throwing your keys carelessly on a table, you decided to tuck them in the nightstand by your bed. Just to be safe, even if it was just for your own peace of mind. You jumped into the shower, cracking open the window so the steam could be let out. You lived on the top floor of your block, no one could look in, which was always a good thing because your bathroom got very steamy, recently the ceiling paper even curling at the side from the condensation. Making a mental note to look up the prices for someone to redecorate.

You really needed a shower today, you and Erin had gotten a little.. excited earlier, and it always made you cringe not showering before bed after an evening of sex. Under the warm water, you hummed a song you'd had stuck in your head all day. It was a song you didn't even recognise, in fact you weren't even sure you'd heard it before. All you knew was that it was in a different language, and it was comforting.

Once clean, you felt overwhelmingly tired, it had been a long day, so you decided to go straight to bed after having your usual cup of camomile tea, with two spoons of sugar. Then you got into bed. Before you could doze off though, you decided to read for a bit, opening up your latest novel of your favourite author. It can't have been too exciting though, because you fell asleep before the first chapter was over.

When dawn broke, the early sun breaking through cracks in your window, you stirred, blinking a few times. Something felt strange, like every morning for the past few months. You felt a stickiness between your thighs, and your pyjama bottoms were definitely not the ones you fell asleep in. You stared down at the light blue shorts, eyebrows furrowed. Were you a sleepwalker? No, your past roommates would have told you. Maybe you'd had a really good dream and just forgotten it? Fuck, this was weird.

Deciding there was nothing you could really do about the situation, you got up, opting to take another shower to get rid of the icky feeling.

It was when you were munching on your chocolate flavoured cereal that you heard your phone ping. Automatically, you put your spoon down, picking up the device you so heavily relied upon. It was a text from an unknown number, causing you to frown. Opening it, you saw there was a picture attached to the text. And when you examined it, your blood ran cold.

It was a picture of you, naked in bed. Your body spread out, intimate area completely exposed.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, reading what had come with it.

Unknown number: Three orgasms in one night, that's your record so far.

You didn't know what to think— someone had.. touched you while you were asleep? They broke in and did this to you? You shivered in fear, your shaky hands typing out a response before you could even think about what the police would say if you went to them; to not engage with a dangerous person.

You: Who the fuck is this?

There was no reply. Not when you left for work, not when you arrived home in the evening.

You were rigid with fear. A sensible person would have called the police, or at least called someone like Erin, asked to stay over, but you just couldn't. Every time you were about to dial a number, something inside you made you stop. You couldn't explain it.

So here you were, sat bolt upright on your couch. It was around eleven, and your eyes were growing heavy. Your camomile tea mug now empty, you blinked a few times, just aching to lay down and rest. No, you had to stay up! You had to see who had been breaking into your home. But.. you were so tired, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over you. Your eyes closed slowly, slumping down and falling into a deep sleep.

—

The next morning the first thing you did was check your phone, seeing if the stranger had replied, and they had. Two images attached to a message. And what you saw horrified you. The first picture, one of you in bed, with a.. strap-on, buried inside you. It made you feel sick, that someone had done this to you unwillingly. Though the expression on your face, clearly asleep but pleasure in your features. You could even see your own arousal dripping down the toy.

The second image quite literally made you throw up, You ran to the bathroom, heaving into the toilet bowl as the picture burned in your mind. It had been someone laying on a floor, covered in blood, a knife wedged in their chest.

You had to go to the police. There was no choice now. For some reason, you looked back at the picture, and your mouth dropped open. That someone was a familiar.

It was Erin.

You just knew, it was her jacket, her brown eyes wide open in fear, her blue dyed hair drenched in her own blood. It caused you to throw up again.

—

"I—I think my best friend has been murdered."

You whispered in a shaky voice to a police officer who had sat you down in a cold grey room. After seeing what you'd been sent, not even reading the message that had come with it, you rushed down to the local police station, practically screaming for someone to talk to.

"Why do you suspect this?" He asked in a gruff voice. He didn't seem to be all that serious about the situation, upsetting you even further.

"I've got pictures! And texts!" Your fingers fumbled around your pocket to retrieve your phone, opening your messages app.

It wasn't there.

"So?" The officer prompted, clearly unimpressed.

"It was.. it was right here.." You mumbled, opening every contact you had in case it had magically gotten messed up.

But no, the messages had vanished.

"Look, lady, I think you should go home and get some rest. You look tired. Our minds make things up when we're lacking sleep."

"But—"

"Listen, if something happens, come back in. But for now, you're making empty claims."

Hanging your head down dejectedly, you fought back tears. You knew Erin was dead. You just knew it.

—

Tonight you weren't going to fall asleep. Just to make sure, you downed two mugs of strong coffee instead of your tea. You hated it, but you couldn't risk falling asleep. The intruder— the murderer, was going to break in, you were sure.

The time ticked on. Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, one o'clock..

Until your phone buzzed. Dread washed over you. There was no one else who would be making your phone light up at this time of night.

Unknown number: How am I meant to enjoy you when you don't have your tea? You look so pretty when you sleep.

This confused you. Why would they be concerned about what beverage you were drinking? You typed out a response quickly.

You: I'm not scared of you.

It was a stupid thing to say, you knew that really. But the only thing you could think of was to pretend you weren't scared. Maybe that would make them bored and leave you alone. All you could think about what Erin's lifeless body. The blood, god.. all that blood..

Unknown number: See you soon, sweetheart.

Your eyes widened in horror; what the fuck did that mean? This person was on their way? Sickness rose up in your throat, and you ran to your kitchen, grabbing the first sharp object you could find— a medium sized kitchen knife. You clutched it to your chest, running to your bedroom, locking the door and panting heavily. You considered pushing some furniture against the door, but you knew you needed to call the police. Then you realised you'd left your phone in the kitchen.

Fuck! Fuck!

You had put yourself in the worst position possible. But before you could panic over that, you felt a gust of cold air. You frowned, turning around to see the window wide open. You definitely hadn't left it like that before, but it was also impossible for anyone else to have opened it. You lived on the top floor for Christ's sake!

Not knowing what to do first; close the window, get your phone, block the door, or just curl up in a ball and hope it would all just go away. You opted for grabbing your phone. If you could call the police, they'd be on their way, hopefully before your stalker could arrive.

Cautiously unlocking the bedroom door, you stepped out into the hallway. The lights that had previously been on, were off, leaving the whole apartment pitch black apart from the moon shining through the windows and the bedroom light.

Your steps were slow, ears straining to hear anything, but there was silence. The only sound heard was the hammering of your heart in your chest.

Until the silence was broken.

"Seeing you awake is strange. But exciting nonetheless."

The voice came from right behind you. Spinning around in horror, you finally came face to face with the person who had been tormenting you.

"Tormenting? That's a bit harsh, sweetheart."

The woman was dressed in all black, a hood covering most of her face. Light from the bedroom accentuated her figure, but more importantly, the silhouette of a knife and a cloth in her hands.

"W—who are you?" It was an attempt at a shout, maybe to attract the attention of the apartment below you, but your voice could barely manage a squeak.

"I've told you before, baby. You're a forgetful thing when you're asleep, mhm?" She stepped forward, causing you to take a step back.

"You've been taking advantage of me! You've been breaking into my home! You killed.. Erin!" You whispered, backing up against the wall. You had no where to go. You were most likely to die, just like Erin.

"Sweet girl, I'm not going to kill you. I could never hurt you." The woman's voice was almost softer as she approached you, only two feet away now. Was she reading your mind?

"But you killed my friend." The images of Erin's body filled your mind, and how you were going to end up just like her.

"Your 'friend'? Please, she was begging for her own life, not for you to be safe." She let out a cold laugh. "It was so satisfying, the sound of my blade tearing through her flesh and tissue." It almost sounded like she'd gotten pleasure from it

Finally, you got some sense and energy into you as she expressed her fucked up feelings. You let out a shattering scream, "HELP! HELP!"

The woman sighed in disappointment. It took her less than a second to raise the cloth up to your face, covering your nose and mouth. The smell of chemicals was overwhelming. You fought against it, until you couldn't anymore. Body falling limp to the ground.

—

The noise that woke you up was the sound of a squeaking. Your eyes wouldn't open, wondering what was going on. You then felt something inside you, a pressure building up in your lower stomach. What—

Finally, your vision became clearer. You blinked a few times, looking around you. The scene became pretty clear.

The woman was in between your legs, a strap-on buried inside you, just like that photo. The squeaking was the bed as she thrusted into you.

You should have screamed, but the pressure in your abdomen was too intense. You let out a whine, trying to move your tired body, but it was useless. You didn't even want to stop it, it felt too.. good.

"You're awake." She stated, a slight pant in her voice. Her hood was down now, revealing her auburn wavy hair, pale skin and deep green eyes.

"Let me.." You trailed off, because you didn't know whether to say 'go' or 'come'.

She let out a chuckle, holding your hips firmly as she thrusted into you. The feeling was delicious. Something about the fact your body was sleepy, heavy, while being fucked by a woman so dangerous..

No! Why are you thinking like this? It almost felt like your thoughts weren't yours anymore. Were you going insane?

The woman grunted, wet noises filling the room, making it very apparent that your body did not hate this at all. "You can come for me, it'll be your third."

Your third? You couldn't even bring yourself to ask about it, your body just trembled, a pending orgasm taking over, making you whimper in delight.

"Fuck!"

Tears filled your eyes from the sheer pleasure, and the fact that you should have hated this. You were filled with so much shame and guilt. This was the person who had killed your best friend, who'd stripped you of your dignity.

"Shh, darling, you don't have to feel guilty. You're allowed to feel pleasure. And your friend, well, she was just in the way."

Her twisted words made you feel sick again, but you didn't have time to dwell on that because the woman's hand suddenly reached down and started to circle your clit while simultaneously thrusting into you. A loud groan escaped your throat, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head.

"You're going to beat your record, four times will be an achievement." Her accented voice was hot and heavy, turning you on even more.

"I— mhm!" You tried to speak, but you didn't know what to say.

"Let go, detka, show me how good I make you feel." She gripped your waist with her spare hand, red manicured nails digging into your skin.

Without warning, you came hard, spilling all over the strap. The woman moaned, slowing down her thrusts and eventually pulling out, leaving you unbearably empty. She slipped the strap off and went to straddle you, leaning her head down to kiss your neck. You felt utter bliss, forgetting how incredibly fucked up and sick this was.

"Seeing as this is the first time we've met while you've been conscious, I'll introduce myself. I'm Wanda." She giggled, as if nothing had just happened, and had been happening for months. Your head spun, recognising that name somehow, as if it had been spoken in your dreams.

"Relax now, sweet thing. I'll be here when you wake up." Wanda said softly, lying beside you, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. Her arm laid loosely across your stomach, hearing her breathing slow down to something calmer than before.

You didn't say anything, too busy feeling a wave of satisfaction, as awful as that sounded. It was like your mind was used to this, and that it was something you'd always wanted.

The last thing you remembered was a soft lullaby, in a language you didn't recognise. You'd heard it before, in your dreams. And it brought you great comfort.

——

Tags: @rezwrites @hatdog96 @ion-news @esposadejoyhuerta @moimmmm @grimlygoblin @lizziesflower @yandereloverb312 @beggingonmykneesforher

——

[classyrbf]

COME HOME! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...you’re afraid one day he won’t come home, leaving you in a constant state of worry and fear of what could happen especially with his family in on the line

INFO...toji fushiguro x ex assassin fem!reader, fluff with some angst, domestic relationship, megumi is readers bio kid, toji an assassin, mentions of blood, sweet ending, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

i'm sorry for being gone for so long and not writing anything or even sticking to my kinktober plan, quite literally fell into a black hole of unmotivation and writing smut was not helping at all lmao

The night was brutal, cold air striking your skin and the winds were sharp. Yet, you sat by the cracked window, your skin felt like it was on fire. Police sirens flooded the silence and the small dim lamp did its best to light up the room. With your knees tucked to your chest, you sat and watched the cars drive by, one of the streetlights flickering every now and again. Little Megumi slept soundly in his room, tucked warmly in his bed with his favorite stuffed dinosaur. You had been up for hours, waiting for Toji to come back home from his job.

You lived with worry that one day he wouldn’t show up, come back home to you and his son. What he did was dangerous, being an assassin and what not. He always brags about how he’s the best, so fast and strong, silent as a mouse that most of them don’t even get the chance. But, what if there’s someone out there who is strong enough to put up a fight? What if he gets caught? Seriously injured? That’s what makes you worry. You knew what you were getting yourself into from the moment you met him because you also used to be an assassin, but as soon as you found out you were pregnant, that lifestyle was cut short. You’d never do anything to put your son in danger.

Many talks between you Toji about changing what he does, doing something better, safer, always led to arguments. It’s like killing was the only thing he knew how to do. It’s sad to say. But you couldn’t help but love him, and worry for him, care for him. You only wanted Megumi to be safe. The job was a dangerous one. Creating enemies along the way, a target painted on your head. You just needed him to come home. Nervously biting at your nails, your eyes scanned the streets and tops of the grungy apartment buildings. You always wanted to move out of this damn city, but Toji said it’d be too obvious if you two moved somewhere nice, somewhere you couldn’t blend in. As much as you hate to admit it, he was right. You just didn’t want Megumi growing up here, turning out like you or his father. You wanted better for your son.

The rattling of the doorknob makes your head spin, jumping to your feet before even thinking. You were on full alert, hoping whoever walks in was your husband and your husband only. Your eyes narrowed, the bulky frame of Toji stumbling through the doorway, his skin pale and shining with sweat. He slammed the door behind him, groaning in pain as he dragged his feet across the floor and to the nearest chair. He didn’t look too well.

Immediately, you walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, assessing him with a worried look in your eye. “Toji, baby?” You nearly fall over when you cup his face, his nose bloody and lip busted. You don’t even notice he’s holding his side. “What the fuck happened?” You’re cupping his face, eyes scanning his finger when you see the copious amounts of blood on his hands. Lifting his shirt, you see the huge gash on his side. “Fucking hell.”

“Missed you too, sweets,” he struggles to even speak, letting out a pained sigh. “Where’s the kid?” He asks, looking at you rummaging through the cabinets for the first aid kit.

“He’s fine, sleeping. Why?” You glance over your shoulder, snatching the first aid off of the shelf. You kneel in front of him, taking the bottle of alcohol and pouring it straight onto the wound.

“Fuck!” He screams, slamming his hand on the table. “Son of a bitch!” He hisses, clenching his eyes shut. “Could’ve warned me, you know?” He breathed heavily, his chest heaving up and down.

“Would’ve been worse if I did. Answer my questions,” you demand, wiping the blood around his wound while applying pressure.

“Fucker that got me knew about you and the kid. Though…shit—thought someone else might’ve came after you two. I tried getting here as fast as I could,” he sighs. His eyes flutter shut, clenching his fists so hard the whites of his knuckles show. “Don’t worry, I killed him. Obviously.”

“Yeah, he still fucked you up pretty good though.” You shake your head, grabbing the bandage and placing it over the gash. “I told you Toji, we need to leave, find somewhere safer, better. You need to quiet this shit, okay? We got a fucking kid to look out for—”

“Mommy? Daddy?” The soft sound of Megumi’s voice made you spin. He rubs his tired eyes, clinging onto his stuffed dinosaur. “Is daddy okay? I heard him yell.”

“I’m okay, Megs.” Toji flashes a smile. “Mommy’s just helping me with something and then I’ll come tuck you back in, alright? Go back to bed.” He points back to his room.

“Daddy’s okay, baby,” you say softly. Megs just nods and tiredly shuffles back into his room. A deep sigh escapes your lips as you wrap the gauze tightly around his torso before cutting it with the scissors and tucking it under. You toss the scissors to the floor, standing back to your feet to rid your hands of his blood. This is what you were afraid of. This is what you didn’t want. You were a mother now and you knew just how cruel this world was.

You take a rag and wet it under the water before gently lifting his chin, and wiping the blood from his nose. You’ve done this too many times before, it was practically like muscle memory. Stitching yourself up, wiping the blood that seeped into your skin and now you’re doing the same for him. His hands find your waist, squeezing gently while you stand between his legs and Toji forgets about the pain for a moment. His glossy eyes look up at you and he realizes what he has. A wife, a son, a family who cares about him, loves him. You’re always so gently yet so affirmative and he’s reminded why he fell in love with you. You make up every part of him that was missing.

“I’m sorry.” His voice and raspy and delicate. “I know I scared you when I walked through the door like this.” He gently grabs your wrist, pulling your hand from his face. “Look at me, baby.” And when your eyes meet his, he can tell just how worried you are, how much you’re hiding just to seem strong. “I’m sorry.”

Tears well up in your eyes and they’re falling before you could blink them away. “I’m so scared you won’t walk through the door one day, Toji. I wait by the window, watching and listening. Looking out for our baby boy. I don’t want that day to come when you’re not here because of this stupid fucking job,” you cry, looking away from him as you sob into your hands.

His heart breaks at your cries, pulling you down into his chest despite the pain he’s in because he couldn’t care less about that right now. He soothingly rubs your back, placing a kiss on your head. “We’ll leave tomorrow. Everything. Move somewhere else. Start a new life. I fucking promise you. I should’ve listened to you before and I’m so sorry.” His voice shakes with each word. “You don’t know how scared I was to walk in here thinking something might’ve happened to you and Megs. Just thinking about that…fuck…I can’t imagine.” He shakes his head. You cling onto him, holding him tightly. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too,” you sniffle. Lifting your head, you gently caress his cheek with the pad of your thumb, searching his eyes and you see is sadness and sincerity. “Tomorrow. Promise?”

“I promise, baby. Me, you, and the kid. We’ll all get outta here. Go somewhere nice. Maybe a beach, watch him play in the sand?” Toji chuckles. You nod, laughing. “There’s that smile,” he says.

“Daddy?” The little patters of Megumi’s feet make their way into the kitchen. “Are you still gonna tuck me in?” He pouts.

Toji looks at you and then at his son. You hop off of his lap and he stands up as if nothing is wrong, but still walking with a slight limp and his hand holding his side. “Come here, kid.” He scoops him up with arm like he weighed nothing. “How about you sleep with me and mommy tonight, huh?” He reaches to ruffle Megumi’s hair. You walk over to the both of them, your chest feeling warm, a smile adorning your face. Megumi leans his head on Toji’s shoulder, quickly shutting his eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

[jadeddangel]

Hello! How about arcane charaters reaction to the reader wearing a pretty dress/outfit?

Please and Thank you

Arcane reacting to the reader in a pretty outfit

Jinx:

Whistles, like straight up

She'll stop whatever she's doing to give you all of her attention and I mean all of it

It's funny that you think that your walking away walking

If your a girl or a trans fem? She's got a strap in her workbench drawer ready for the occasion

You wanna top her? She's alright with that go straight ahead

Your male or trans masc? She will ride you until your shaking or give you head whatever you want

Your either passing out or crawling out of her workshop

"Oh! Hi bab- *whistles* well damn your a pretty thing!" Jinx giggled out excitedly,"cmere cmere! I wanna love on you!" Jinx insisted

"Ok ok ok what's up?" You said walking closer.

And then Jinx pulled you closer, whispering in your ear while letting out little laughs "yknow~ you look so pretty, but what if we just take it off?"

Your neck will be marked and hell she might even get you a collar with her name on it, just for a good precaution yknow?

Vi:

You're now not allowed to go anywhere without her

Your gonna go shopping and it's topside? She's got a hoodie on

You have to go to work? She's staying right where she can see you

Your working for silco? She knows how to follow and be undetected

She marks you, not even in a sexual way, she's just possessive

It's either your getting marked and she's going with you

Or your staying home and changing

"Little mouse? Oh, oh my..where do you think you're going?" Vi asked, leaning her side against the doorway

"Huh? Oh, I was gonna go shopping up topside and wanted to look nice. Why? Do I not look good?" You asked paranoid

"No, you just look a little too good, little mouse." Vi moved closer

Yea, on the other hand, if she decides you look too good, she'll just take it off herself

Silco:

He doesn't care

Like genuinely

He always has someone watching over you to make sure your safe

You insist you can take care of yourself? He'll agree with you(and send sevika after you)

He's borderline asexual and doesn't particularly feel the need to make sure your marked by him or anything

He knows he's feared in the underground, so there's nothing to worry about

You knocked on silco's door carefully hearing a muffled "come in" from behind it

Silco took a moment to glance up from his papers when he heard you walk through the door. "Ah good morning, my dear. I hope you slept well," silco said, setting his pen down

You nodded "yea I was gonna go out, so I was just letting you know "

Silco nodded. "ok dear, have a good time." Silco waited five minutes after you left to call sevika into his office. "Follow them," he ordered sevika

And this is the routine every time

Ekko:

You think your leaving your shared room like that? Hahaha no.

He will lock you in your bedroom till you change or will change you himself

After the day is done he'll insist you put it back on so he can admire you properly

Intimate moments were rather rare due to him running the firelights

So he definitely took advange of this

Those clothes aren't lasting through the night and neither is the grease paint on his face

"Morning firefl- no. Get back in that room now. " Ekko cut himself off, setting his coffee cup down on the counter and pushing you into the room gently

"Ekko nooo! Cmon, I look adorable!" You insisted

"Yea I know and I don't wanna have to deal with certain problems of my own and keep people from looking at you in the way only I'm allowed to, so change" Ekko finished before locking you in the bedroom and standing there until you were done

He loves you so much if you can't tell

[youryanderedaddy]

Summary: You run into your snobby ex boyfriend after a drunken party. Things go south from there. tw: female reader, hinted murder, possessive behavior, condescension, financial(?) abuse, classism

You know this is a stupid, stupid idea. Going home at God knows what time in the pitch black is never a good idea, you think drowsily, head still spinning from the last beer, but even more so when you're tired, pissed off and tipsy. You're freezing, naked shoulders wet from the chilly midnight rain - but instead of soft damp linden, you smell molden concrete and metal. You fucking hate this city. You hate the stupid, flashy, obnoxious parties for rich people, and this shitty university in the middle of nowhere, and even the scholarship that forced you into close proximity with the freakish upper class of east New Hemptison.

"Baby!" A familiar voice sinks into the muddy darkness and you have to physically restrain yourself from emptying your stomach right there on the street - and knowing your neighbours, you'd have to clean it after too. His steps fasten and soon you feel his hand gripping your shoulder to turn you around. Standing before you, glistening just like some prince from a fairy tale, is everything you despise about this town. The fact that he's perfectly prim and proper despite the pounding rain, that his teeth seem almost pearly white in the dark, that his hair is crisp and slicked away tastefully, that even now he's wearing a fucking Armani shirt with the cheesiest pair of jeans (ones you could never afford) - it makes you want to crawl back to the cave you came from, two continents away, and never look back.

"Baby, where have you been?" He sounds terribly concerned as he pulls your shivering body in for a tight bear hug, running his hands through your absolutely soaked hair - murmuring something incomprehensible to your drunken mind. "I was worried sick, missy." His voice drops slightly, but it's all for show. He's playing the part of the good boyfriend, like always - and you fell for it once, you did, but you know better now. "I called you, like, sixty eight times. And nothing." He swallows, big hands trembling around you. "Just radio silence. I thought something bad happened to y-"

"Oh, f-uucking beat it." Your patience finally snaps and you push him off swiftly, barely contained anger starting to resurface again. Today was supposed to be about you, about healing, about feeling better, but just your luck - the very problem had found you, just like always. No matter where you go, your troubles follow. "You know what you did, asshole. Don't you d-aare play innocent with m-me." You hiss drunkenly, stumbling all over your words before hitting the wall all on your own. Mathew, of course, doesn't waste the oppurtunity to get closer to you - just so he can help you regain your balance, of course. The golden boy of Saint Hemptison would never take advantage of an intoxicated girl - much less his ex girlfriend who he's still hopelessly in love with, supposedly. Right.

"Baby, please, you're drunk - you're not making any sense." The man whispers softly, placing his hand at your hip. "Let's go to the penthouse. We can talk about this in the morning when you are more aware of your thoughts."

When you're more aware of your thoughts? You almost laugh. It's quite bittersweet when it hits you that he doesn't respect you even now - maybe he never has in the duration of your miserable relationshop, that in his eyes you'll always be the poor girl in need of a white knight. Just a little trophy to show off, if a bit broken in certain spots.

"I am not going anywhere with you." You mumble, trying to calm down - to appear cold and collected, the complete opposite of what he wants you to be. "Look, I know that you're mad at me, babygirl, but I'm sure your little temper tantrum can wait until tomorrow. You know I don't like this neighbourhood. Let me take you to a safe place for the night, okay?" He reaches for your hand again, but this time you swat it away in fury.

"Who are you to act so worried about me, huh?" You can hear your voice breaking as the tears prick at your eyes - hot and shameful. Crying in front of him is the last thing you want to do, but god, it's so hard not to when this whole night has been a disaster after a disaster. You're truly at your wits' end. "After what you did? You are truly shameless." You squeal, and admittedly, it feels fucking great to finally say it.

Your former lover's face twists into an unrecognizable grimace as he watches you tear into his heart with ease - and as you turn to leave, he grabs your wrist painfully. This time something is different about his eyes - they're not longer smiling. Now they're two bottomless gray pits devoid of kindness, the same eyes you saw the night of the accident as he caressed your cold cheek with bloody knuckles.

"And what did I do, love? Hm?" He tilts your chin up by squeezing your throat, forcing you to meet his eerie gaze. Suddenly all your tipsy bravado evaporates into thin air. "Please, refresh my memory. I really can't recall the events of the past two weeks - since you've been avoiding me and all..." His fingers dig into your skin and you wince just like a kicked puppy - but he doesn't bulge an inch. Suddenly everything comes flooding back - the touches you convinced yourself were sensual, not possesive, the glances you once thought of as romantic, the constant interrogations, the strange emails, the cryptic calls, the dead roses at your door. "I couldn't sleep - or eat for that matter. I am half a man without you. I lose myself completely."

It all makes sense now. You feel like crying, because it's so crystal clear... and you've been a willing fool. You had closed your eyes, because it was easier to lie than to accept the truth bubbling just under his surface - under the dimples and the smiles, and the hundred jewelry boxes still lying unopened under your bed.

"You - you killed him! You monster!" You gasp, unable to stop your lips from uttering the lethal. You thrash around to no avail, you're stuck. "How could you? Jack was your friend!" You hide your face in the crook of his neck to stop the sobs, too scared to look at the crazed man holding you. He simply rolls his eyes, letting you soak his shirt with your pretty tears. "Don't be so dramatic - it's just some broken bones. He'll be fine... as long as he stays away from my things."

You raise your head shakily - you're drowning between hatred, fear and misery. The adrenaline is making you even more disoriented than the liquor percentage in your bloodstream.

"I am not a fucking thing for you to-" You hiccup, growing woozy as you hit weakly against his chest. The corners of his lips curl up slightly as he chuckles at the pitiful display. "For you to just own!" You keep going, cheeks purple from pent up fury - there's something tearing at your insides like you want to scream, you need it to come out, but you find yourself unable to push it off your flesh like it's been ingrained with glue and a shovel.

"You're wrong, baby. I do own you." Mathew says with the sweetest, softest voice you've heard in your life, sugary and bitter like poisonous honey. "Let's say you want to break up-"

"We already broke u-"

His eyes pierce you mid-sentence. You quickly close your mouth.

"Let's say," He repeats through gritted teeth, holding you so tightly you might just merge into one being. "That you want to break up with me." He inhales deeply, nostrils flaring. "Hypothetically. Then what? You have no place to live. I know you're staying at that shithole of a hotel down the street right now - it's filthier than a brothel, no?"

You want to say something - to argue, to scream. To tell him that he's being a rich, condescending asshole again, that you like the hotel - despite the mold and the cockroaches and the way there never seems to be hot water. Despite having to lock your door four times so you don't get assaulted in your sleep.

You say nothing.

"You don't have to confirm it. My agent tracked you down a week ago. Whatever - you'll run out of money in, approximately, 9 days." He smirks maliciously, with unhidden spite - just like a little devil. "Then what? You don't even have an address. And you know the city hall will take their sweet fucking time to help you register - if they don't make you pay a fine first." He strokes your chin cruelly. "We both know just how much they care about clueless little foreigners with less than a penny to their name." He whispers, twisting the dagger in. "Hell, they may even cut your scholarship. And. then. what." Your ex pronounces each word slowly - making sure you can understand it, feel it - fear it.

You imagine your family back at home. You can hear their voices over the phone, your mom smiling as you tell her about your day, your father asking you what you plan to do after college - whether you will still remember them, whether you'd take care of them once they have nothing left, since you took everything with you. The money, the hopes, the happiness...

"F-fuck you..." You whimper faintly, falling against him. You feel defeated, and the sharp words are all you have left. "Why are you doing this to me?" You mumble to yourself, suddenly feeling drained to the very bone. The man begins stroking your hair as he rocks you gently to the side. "Because I love you." He slowly kisses down your neck. "Because I'm the only one in this city who gives a fuck about you, and-" You can feel his smile against your burning cheek. "Because you're mine."

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Still You Want Me

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pregnancy, a little angst if you squint, pre-established relationship.

Summary/Warnings: Dean's fought the worst evil in the world, but only one thing has really managed to scare him. His pregnant wife.

Author's Note: Request from an anon!! I got emotional with it, and I'm very sorry about that but I couldn't help myself. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.9k

“We got three hours left.” Dean returned to the parked Impala, sorting through the bags in his hands. “But we can make it back in two if I-“

Sam shook his head, taking his bag of bird feed—trail mix, but the pointless kind without any M&Ms—from Dean with a frown. “Two’s a bit stretch, don’t you think? I mean even for you, Dean, and it’s not like we’re in a rush-“

“You’re not in a rush, Sammy.” Dean muttered, dumping the rest of the snacks in the backseat. “I got a pregnant wife who’s left me three voicemails about how she’s either gonna castrate me or give me head, and-“

“Gross, dude.” Sam walked around the car, making a scrunched bitch-face of disgusting. “All you needed to say was that’s she’s got mood swings-“

“Don’t call them mood swings.” Dean dropped behind Baby’s wheel, saying Her name with a sigh. “She hates that. And you can’t charm your way out of like I can.”

“I think I could.” Sam shrugged. “She likes me more.”

“She’s my freakin’ wife-“

“She loves you.” Sam grabbed his phone as they pulled out of the lot. “She likes me. I’ve never been threatened with castration-“

“Yet.” Dean muttered. “Cas thought he was safe until he got a shade of yellow that was too red for the nursery. I mean, yellow is yellow, Sammy, but she threatened to cut off his wings-“

Sam frowned. “I don’t think she could do that-“

“Trust me, man.” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “She’d find a way.”

Sam just nodded, because they both knew Dean was right. He was pretty goddamn sure that, if She wanted—or if Dean pissed Her off enough—She’d figure out how to send him somewhere worse than the Empty, bring him back, then start sobbing and apologizing on Her knees all within a ten-minute span. Then She’d probably give him a blowjob, he’d saying the exact wrong dirty talk, and she’d bite off Little Dean. Shit, he’d only been gone four days for the hunt, but half that time had been spent on the phone, reassuring Her he was being safe, the hunt wasn’t a part of any world-ending scheme from a new big bad, and he’d be home soon. The time that Dean wasn’t on the phone, Sam was, promising he wouldn’t let anything happen, that Dean was sleeping well and looking at the baby names list She’d sent, and that he’d called Eileen so she wouldn’t worry either.

Annoyingly, Sam had been keeping his promises to Her. Dean read the baby names list because Sam wouldn’t let him leave the table until he did, Eileen had gotten two calls, and Dean was being safer than he’d ever been in his freaking life. At this point, he was pretty sure the pregnancy was just one long scam to make him take care of himself. He was drinking and hunting less after Her breakdown that she’d lose him, driving a little slower—just a little, he wasn’t a blind old lady—after the ice incident got him the silent treatment for three days, and he’d even tried some of Sam’s rabbit food. He’d spat it out, but he’d tried it. For Her, for the baby, and because he was terrified for his life.

Dean loved Her more than every pie in the freaking universe, but She was freaking terrifying right now. She might be the only thing he’d ever really been afraid of. Planes he could avoid. Ghosts and monster he could kill. Hell, even Lucifer had been better. At least the son of a bitch hadn’t begged to give Dean a hand job, then started sobbing because Dean tried to move it to sex and they didn’t feel pretty enough for sex. And if Lucifer had done that, Dean wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t give a shit about Lucifer. 

But he gave a shit about Her. Every time She cried it felt like someone was stabbing him, but he had less and less of a damn clue for how to help her the more pregnant She got. She’d said she felt ugly, he’d told Her she was beautiful, and that her tits looked better than ever, and She’d started accusing him of not loving her tits before. He’d missed one phone call and She’d sent Cas to teleport him home. He’d gotten the wrong candy bar and She’d had a breakdown about him not loving her enough to get the right one.

That last one was why the gas station had taken so long. Dean had triple checked every single snack he’d bought, and added a few extras just in case she changed Her mind. He’d even had Cas text him a second list after She’d told him all her requests over the phone, out of fear that he’d missed even a single one. Even now, on the road, he was running through everything one last time, because he’d gotten five different Gatorade colors, but maybe She’d want a sixth, or two of the same color, or only one color and he’d get yelled at because She didn’t even like orange-

“Hey!” Sam pulled Dean out of his thoughts with a shout. “Phone!”

“Wha-“

Sam said Her name, holding Dean’s phone in front of his face. “She’s calling you-“

“I got that.” Dean snatched the phone, shooting Sam a glare. “And that’s not safe, Sammy. Gonna get us fuckin’ killed-“

“Yeah, sure, Dean.” Sam just shrugged—even though Dean was right, that was dangerous—and nodded to the phone. “I’d pick up if I were you-“

“Shut up.” Dean muttered, ignoring Sam’s laugh as he answered the call. “Hey, baby, we’re-“

“Dean!” Her voice was a half-shriek through the phone, and Dean winced. “Holy shit, you’re alive, that’s good-“

“Course I’m alive, I promised I would be-“

“But it’s not up to you!” She was pacing. Her voice had grown frantic and high, so She was pacing. “Monsters don’t ask before they kill you, and they’d defiantly want to kill you, and Sam told me he’d take that bullet but I don’t want him to die either, and you’re both amazing hunters but if you die now, you can’t come back, and I’d miss you, I miss you now, why aren’t you home, you dick, I fucking hate you-“

Dean swallowed, saying Her name slowly as Sam snickered at his side. Asshole. “Take a breath-“

“Don’t tell me how to breathe, Winchester, I’ve been breathing my whole fucking life-“

“I know, sweetheart, I have too-“

“You’ve never had to breathe while pregnant-“

“And I’m not planning to, ever, but- just listen-“

“We should get you pregnant, it’s only fair-“

Sam started to cackle, Her voice loud enough he could obviously hear every word. It wasn’t really helpful. 

“That’s not gonna happen,” Dean muttered, giving Sam a death glare that just made him laugh more. “Sweetheart, we’ll be there soon. I promise.“

“Okay, but don’t go too fast, if you’re far, because you promised me you’d drive carefully, and you need to be safer. I don’t want to lose you.” She started to sniffle. Shit. “I can’t lose you, De, I need you, the baby needs you, and Sam and Cas are cool but they’re not you and I want you and the baby wants you. It wants you more, it hates when your gone, it just keeps kicking me and if you die I’ll be a terrible mother with a baby who hates me-“

Dean snapped Her name, pressing the Impala’s pedal to the floor. He needed to be home soon. “Listen to me. I’m not gonna do anything stupid like die, and you’re never gonna lose me. Plus, our baby won’t hate you. It’s half me. It can’t.”

There was a slightly static hum from the other side, and Dean sighed.

“I know you miss me, baby, and we can get you whatever you’re craving, but-“

“I do miss you, De.” Her voice was soft and pleading through the phone. 

But it wasn’t Her crying voice. That was her-

“I miss your cock, too. I miss touching you, and why is your bed so stupid and big-“

Dean chuckled, shaking off the whiplash. “Because I’m stupid and big-“

He could hear Her pout through the phone. “Don’t say that. You’re not stupid, and our baby’s gonna be a genius-“

“Because they’ll get their brains from you, pretty girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean leaned slightly forward, checking a highway sign. “Hour and a half, okay? Then I’ll be home.”

“Fine.” She mumbled. “I love you. Be careful.”

“I love you too, baby. And I’m always safe.” Dean waited for Her sigh, letting her hang up first. He’d learned to do that the hard way. “Not a word, Sammy, or I’ll shoot you.”

Sam raised his hands, palms up. “I didn’t even open my- got it.”

Dean turned his scowl back to the road, and he could be safe and get home in an hour. Both could be possible, and She’d never have to know that he’d been going 15 over the speed limit. And if She started to catch on, Dean could distract Her with his hands and dick and mouth, because—as hot as she was when she was pissed—Sam said stress wasn’t good for the baby.

They made it forty-five minutes of mostly safe driving—Dean’s hands gripping the wheel and listening to the music at a deafening volume, Sam texting Eileen and pretending he wasn’t bothered by the deafening music—before another incident.

Cas appeared in the back seat, said Her name instead of hello, Dean—already a bad sign—and looked almost genuinely scared. Dean had never seen his face do that before—red and sheepish like a child being scolded by a dinosaur—and it was a little off-putting.

He was used to Cas doing this enough to not swerve off the road, but he was still pissed. “Fucking hell, Cas, a warning would be nice-“

Cas frowned, then leaned forward, turning down the music. “Did you not hear what I said.”

“No, the music was on, I know you said-“

Cas said Her name again with Dean. “It was her message. I would, ah, prefer not to repeat it.”

Sam blinked, turning in his seat. “Why, is she-“

“She is well.” Cas’ eyes stayed on Dean in the rearview mirror. “She is feeling some very… confusing emotions. Towards Dean.”

Sam frowned. “Confusing? How-“

“She told me to relay to Dean that she hates him, and she hates hunting, and if he’s not home in forty-five minutes she’ll leave him, but she can’t leave him because she loves him more than life and she cannot live without him. Specifically his smile, voice, hands, stupid flirting that did this in the first place, and,” Cas swallowed, his voice dropping slightly as his face grew red. “Big cock.”

Dean smirked slightly—she was a menace, but damn it if he didn’t love his girl—as Sam paled next to him.

“By this,” Cas mumbled. “I assume she was referring to the baby. Which is in good health. I checked this morning.”

“Good. Thanks, Cas, but,” Dean sighed. “This could’ve been a phone call-“

“I was instructed to deliver it in person. To make sure you were safe, and driving carefully.” Cas leaned forward with a frown. “The speed limit on this highway is meant to be-“

“I know what the speed limit is.” Dean grumbled, refusing to ease his foot off the gas. “I’m tryin’ to get home, Cas.”

“I believe she would prefer you get home slower, rather than sacrificing your safety.” Cas let out a long sigh. “Although, I will admit I’d prefer you return quickly. I am not equipped to handle a pregnant woman alone, despite reading all of the books on the subject I could find. And, uh,” Cas said Her name with a red face. “Is frightening in this state.” 

Dean sighed. “Thirty minutes, dude, can you hold down the fort-“

“He could take you now?” Sam cut in with a small frown. “Cas could zap you back to the bunker, and I could drive Baby home.”

“Sammy-“

Cas nodded. “I agree with Sam’s plan. If you could pull over, Dean-“

“I’m not gonna pull over!” Dean snapped. “I can get back just fine myself!”

“But I could-“

“You won’t always be there, Cas.” Dean grunted through his teeth. “I gotta be able to take care of my family by myself. Shit, I’m doing all the safety bullcrap for it, and I’m hunting less.” He said Her name, his grip on the wheel painful. “She’s gotta know I can take care of her, and the baby. I said I’d drive home, so-“

Sam cut Dean off a sigh. “Dude, she’s gonna care way more that you’re home with her.”

“Sam is correct.” Cas said, and Dean could feel his gaze through the mirror. “I attempted to make her breakfast this morning, and she started crying. When asked, she told me that you make it better.” Cas frowned. “It was cereal.”

“C’mon, man. Let Cas take you home.”

Dean glanced over to find Sam giving him puppy eyes—the bitch—and groaned. “Fine. But if I see one scratch on Baby-“

“You’ll kill me, yeah, I know.” Sam unbuckled as Dean pulled over, not sounding nearly threatened enough. “Let’s move.”

It took a minute for Dean to get all the snacks, but the moment the last bag was in his arms Cas grabbed him by the shoulder, the world because a spinning rush, and he was home.”

“Dean!” 

He was barely on steady legs when She slammed into him, sending him stumbling slightly back as his arms wrapped around her, careful not to push too far into the baby bump.

“Hey, Sweetheart. I heard you missed me-“

“Of course I missed you, you asshole!” She pushed off of him, shoving his chest slightly. “Do you have any idea how many pies are just rotting in the fridge for you! You said the hunt would be fast, Dean, but I was stuck alone for four fucking days-“

Dean frowned. “Wasn’t Cas-“

“Cas doesn’t count!” She screamed, and over her shoulder, Cas didn’t look that offended. He’d probably gotten this outburst—and the following, tearful apology—at least twice already. “Cas isn’t you! He didn’t knock me up and then leave me-“

Dean thought about pointing out that he had not left Her, but thought better of it and let her keep shouting. She usually calmed herself down. 

Usually.

“And Cas is an angel, and he’s been okay, and I feel so bad because I was such a bitch to him, but he deserved it! He wasn’t you! And I missed you and I hate you, Dean, I fucking hate you, why weren’t you home-“

Dean caught Her hands in his, pressing a gentle kiss to Her knuckles. “I’m home now, baby-“

“I know.” She whispered, crumbling in half a second into Dean, clinging to him like a koala. “And I missed you so much, De. I can’t do the laundry with this stupid bump, I can’t do anything, I’m useless and I’m a bitch and I think made Cas cry-“

“I’d pay to see you make Cas cry,” Dean muttered Her name, running a slow hand through her hair. “And you’re not useless. You’re growing a person, that freaking awesome and insane-“

She tilted her head back, pretty eyes glossy and wide on Dean’s. “But what if I mess it up? What if I fuck the baby up and you leave me-“

“I’m never gonna leave you.”

“But I’ve been mean-“

“You’re always mean, baby.” Dean grinned at her, letting his affection show in his voice. “And it’s always pretty freakin’ hot. And you aren’t gonna fuck up the baby, and I’m not gonna leave you, but,” he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “If you wanna make Sammy cry a little more, I think he’ll deserve it.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I’m not making Sam cry-“

“He said you had mood swings.”

She gasped, hitting Dean’s chest.  “You’re a snitch-“

“Gotta spread the love somehow.” Dean shrugged, squeezing his hands on Her as he dropped his voice down. “But I can think of a few other ways, just you and me, to spread some better love.”

She flushed—already putty in Dean’s arms—and almost dragged him back to their room. 

And this made it worth it. All the screaming and flying objects and threats, all the living in cautious fear in his own damn home, was more than worth it for this. Not just the awesome sex—sex was always awesome, sex with Her was better than almost anything, and sex with pregnant Her was what Dean imagined crack was like—but the way that, in the end, She smiled at him no matter what. She smiled and giggled and moaned, proving to Dean in a million ways both between the sheets and after that she didn’t really hate him, and he got to rest his head on her stomach and feel a small kick near his brow. Her fingers combed through his hair peacefully, all her noises made of content, and everything was more than worth it.

Worth pushing through the worst of the screaming and moods—just like She’d pushed through all of his world-saving bullshit—to see Her peaceful face as she slept by his side. Worth letting Sam drive the Impala just once, so Dean could get home faster.

Worth the family he was finally getting to have, and being here with them. 

End Note: Sam Winchester once again being a true trooper in my stories.

Title from Next to Me by Imagine Dragons

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Taglist

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature @sthefferrete @lyarr24

@deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr

@Youdontknowwe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @elle14-blog1

@impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @itsdearapril @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused